he laughed. Through the crack in the door she watched Carol get a beer from the kitchen and take it into the bedroom. Then she scurried down the hall and took up her usual position outside Donovan and Carol’s door. She sat down, crossed her legs Indian-style, and pressed her ear to the door.
Unaware of the one-person audience outside the door, Donovan walked out of the shower and playfully flicked his towel at Carol. “Let’s see, what should we do first? Swing from the chandelier or roll on the floor? How come you’re still wearing all those clothes, woman?”
Carol giggled. “We don’t have a chandelier, and the floor is drafty. How’s about we just get into bed?” she asked as she began removing her clothes. “You up for an all-nighter?”
Donovan groaned. “Frankly, my dear,” he said in his Clark Gable voice, “I think it would kill me.”
Carol unhooked her bra, tossed it aside, and motioned him toward her. “Make love to me, Donovan,” she said in a low, seductive voice. “Slow and easy. With all the magic words. Let’s put everything out of our minds except you and me.” She felt her throat constrict and her eyes mist. “God, I loveyou. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you. There was never anyone else for me but you.”
He pulled her tight against him. “I must be the luckiest guy in the world. John said you were the best thing that ever happened to me and warned me not to let you get away. I’m glad I listened to him.”
Carol stared at him, speechless.
“What’s the matter? What did I say?”
“Oh, nothing—It’s—” she stammered. “It’s just that I never knew he felt that way. I’m flattered.”
Donovan smiled. “John pretty much kept his feelings to himself, except around me.”
“You must miss him terribly.”
“Yeah, he was the best buddy a guy could ask for. And you’re the best wife a guy could ask for,” he said, moving his lips downward.
In the aftermath of their lovemaking, with Donovan asleep in her arms and wine softening her heart, all thoughts of leaving disappeared. Things would be better tomorrow. She would see to it.
“Uncle Donovan, how come you’re late this morning?” Abby asked as she attacked the pile of pancakes on her plate.
“Because I wanted to see my girls before I left for work. Have you been behaving for Carol? Christmas is only a few days away, and Santa is watching,” he reminded them.
“I know, I know,” Abby squealed, bouncing up and down in her chair. “I’m being really good. Ask Aunt Carol. Are you sure Santa will bring me that pink bike?”
“I can almost guarantee it, Abby. How about you, Mallory? What did you put on your list for Santa to bring you?”
“A whole closet full of pretty dresses like my mama used to buy me. My own telephone and my own television, and a purse with real money in it.”
“That’s a pretty tall order. There are a lot of children in the world for Santa to remember. Sometimes he doesn’t bring everything on a little boy’s or girl’s list.”
“My mama said he would bring everything I ask for. Last year, he even brought stuff I didn’t ask for. Mama said Santa likes me because I’m so pretty.”
“Mama did say that to Mallory. I heard her, Uncle Donovan,” Abby said as she poured more syrup on her pancakes.
Carol turned back to the stove. Donovan stared at the stiff set of her shoulders. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
“You two better hurry or you’ll miss the bus,” Carol said, holding out two lunch boxes. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Have a good day.”
Mallory stomped from the room without looking back. Abby hugged both Donovan and Carol. “See ya,” she called.
The moment the door closed, Donovan said, “Okay, let’s hear it. The whole enchilada. I knew the minute I walked in the door last night that something was bothering you, but you didn’t seem to want to talk about it so I didn’t ask. Tell me. Maybe I can help.”
She slumped down in
Unaware of the one-person audience outside the door, Donovan walked out of the shower and playfully flicked his towel at Carol. “Let’s see, what should we do first? Swing from the chandelier or roll on the floor? How come you’re still wearing all those clothes, woman?”
Carol giggled. “We don’t have a chandelier, and the floor is drafty. How’s about we just get into bed?” she asked as she began removing her clothes. “You up for an all-nighter?”
Donovan groaned. “Frankly, my dear,” he said in his Clark Gable voice, “I think it would kill me.”
Carol unhooked her bra, tossed it aside, and motioned him toward her. “Make love to me, Donovan,” she said in a low, seductive voice. “Slow and easy. With all the magic words. Let’s put everything out of our minds except you and me.” She felt her throat constrict and her eyes mist. “God, I loveyou. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you. There was never anyone else for me but you.”
He pulled her tight against him. “I must be the luckiest guy in the world. John said you were the best thing that ever happened to me and warned me not to let you get away. I’m glad I listened to him.”
Carol stared at him, speechless.
“What’s the matter? What did I say?”
“Oh, nothing—It’s—” she stammered. “It’s just that I never knew he felt that way. I’m flattered.”
Donovan smiled. “John pretty much kept his feelings to himself, except around me.”
“You must miss him terribly.”
“Yeah, he was the best buddy a guy could ask for. And you’re the best wife a guy could ask for,” he said, moving his lips downward.
In the aftermath of their lovemaking, with Donovan asleep in her arms and wine softening her heart, all thoughts of leaving disappeared. Things would be better tomorrow. She would see to it.
“Uncle Donovan, how come you’re late this morning?” Abby asked as she attacked the pile of pancakes on her plate.
“Because I wanted to see my girls before I left for work. Have you been behaving for Carol? Christmas is only a few days away, and Santa is watching,” he reminded them.
“I know, I know,” Abby squealed, bouncing up and down in her chair. “I’m being really good. Ask Aunt Carol. Are you sure Santa will bring me that pink bike?”
“I can almost guarantee it, Abby. How about you, Mallory? What did you put on your list for Santa to bring you?”
“A whole closet full of pretty dresses like my mama used to buy me. My own telephone and my own television, and a purse with real money in it.”
“That’s a pretty tall order. There are a lot of children in the world for Santa to remember. Sometimes he doesn’t bring everything on a little boy’s or girl’s list.”
“My mama said he would bring everything I ask for. Last year, he even brought stuff I didn’t ask for. Mama said Santa likes me because I’m so pretty.”
“Mama did say that to Mallory. I heard her, Uncle Donovan,” Abby said as she poured more syrup on her pancakes.
Carol turned back to the stove. Donovan stared at the stiff set of her shoulders. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
“You two better hurry or you’ll miss the bus,” Carol said, holding out two lunch boxes. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Have a good day.”
Mallory stomped from the room without looking back. Abby hugged both Donovan and Carol. “See ya,” she called.
The moment the door closed, Donovan said, “Okay, let’s hear it. The whole enchilada. I knew the minute I walked in the door last night that something was bothering you, but you didn’t seem to want to talk about it so I didn’t ask. Tell me. Maybe I can help.”
She slumped down in
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