The Lake

SEVENTY-SIX

“Mom!”

“Yes, honey. We’re back.”

Leigh didn’t want to believe her ears.

“Er… How was Boulder?” she asked faintly. “And Aunt Abby, of course.”

Drinking black coffee in the living room, Deana and Mattie perked up.

“Fine, dear. Boulder’s hot and Abby’s taking her beta blockers. But I have to tell you, honey, it’s wonderful to be home again!”

“Sure, Mom. Dad okay?”

Jack West broke in. “I’m fine—and how’s that granddaughter of ours? She been behaving herself?”

“Sure, Dad. Deana’s okay, and she’s right here. Want a word?”

Leigh caught Deana’s eye, jiggled the phone at her, and mouthed, “It’s Pops. You wanta say hello?” Deana nodded, made a face at Mattie, and walked over to Leigh. She took the phone.

“Hi, Pops. How ya doin? Aunt Abby better?”

“She sure is, darlin’. But, like your gran says, we’re real glad to be home. So, what’s my favorite granddaughter been doing all summer?”

“Well, er… Oh, just messin’ around.”

“Just messin’ around, huh? When your gran and I are unpacked and showered, we’ll be right over, then we can have a nice long chat. So don’t go rushing off, young lady. Like you did at my birthday dinner!”

“Okay, Pops. I’ll be here…”

The doorbell jangled.

Mattie raised her brows. Deana and Leigh exchanged glances. Leigh’s heart sank. How could she ever explain to Mom and Dad all that had happened since they went away to Boulder?

With a resigned sigh, Leigh went down the hallway and opened the door.

“Oh… Hi, guys!” Her voice picked up a notch when she saw Warren, Sheena, and Sabre on the stoop. Warren was holding a couple of books.

“It’s so good to see you both again!” Leigh was saying in a relieved voice. Warren stepped inside, and Sheena followed. Sabre trotted behind.

When they were all in the living room, Warren told Deana, “I brought the books you asked for. Elmore Leonard for you, and Dylan Thomas for Leigh. Maybe you’ll get a chance to read them now.”

Deana threw him a wink. “Nice timing, Warren,” she said. “Gran and Pops are back from Boulder and they’re due here any minute.”

They arrived a half hour later.

Deana made for the kitchen to heat up the coffee.

Warren followed.

After the introductions, Mom lowered herself down on the sofa. Shooting a fearful look at Mattie and Sheena—Mattie in her MVPD sweatshirt, denim cutoffs, and gun holster, and Sheena, Amazon-like… long flowing hair, tight black tee, leather shorts, and studded belt.

Leigh glanced at Mom’s face—red and mottled as she stared, first at the women, then at Sabre, tucked in tight, by Sheena’s bare legs.

Leigh rushed over to the wet bar and poured out liberal measures of J.D.’s into two balloon glasses. She handed them to her parents.

There was an awkward silence.

Leigh’s bruised face glowed as she met Mom’s glance.

“Now, young lady.” Dad, glass in one hand, massaging the back of Mom’s neck with the other, threw a meaningful look at his daughter. “I think you have some explaining to do…”

Christ Jesus, Leigh groaned inwardly. It’s Wahconda and Charlie all over again.

Not quite.

It’s Wahconda and Charlie, eighteen years on.

What goes around comes around…

Clear as crystal, the words of the song popped into her head, making her smile. She felt a million years old. Very wise, and somehow philosophical about all that had happened this summer.

Sitting cross-legged at the far end of the sofa, she smiled at Mom, took a deep breath, and said:

“Remember Nelson? He of beef Willington fame?”

Taking a sip of brandy, Mom nodded slowly…

In the kitchen, Deana gave Warren a cheeky grin. “Looks like we got ourselves a situation out there!” She paused, head tilted to one side, then said, “So, lover boy, you came over to deliver our books?”

“Right.”

“That sure is one lousy excuse! Admit it, Warren Hastings, you just couldn’t keep away!”

They smiled broadly, and their eyes met.

Suddenly, they weren’t laughing anymore. They were deadly serious.

“God, Deana. It’s been a helluva long time.” Warren’s voice was low, breathy. “Too long.” He held out his arms. “Wanta finish off our… unfinished business?”

“Mmmm. Don’t I just…”

Deana snugged into him, pressing close, her arms tight around him. Their lips met. His searching, impatient; hers puffy, bruised, and hurting like hell. She pressed into him some more, feeling him stir and rise against her belly. Moaning, she felt the teasing ache between her thighs.

Damn right, she thought. It’s been a long, long time…

Too long…

She trembled as his hand stole inside her blouse, shivering as he reached for her naked breast. He held it, squeezed it a little, his thumb stroking her taut nipple beneath the filmy cloth.

She moaned, squirming, wanting more—did a little exploring of her own. Easing in against him, she peeled down the zipper of his pants. Her hand closed around him, feeling his hard-on, strong and warm… They moved against each other in a steady rhythm.

Then, abruptly drawing away, she whispered, “Later, Warren. Later. Soon as Gran and Pops are gone, we can…”

“Promise?”

“Mmmmm,” she sighed, a surge of joy welling inside her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

She smiled softly, and her arms tightened around him…