much better today," she said and James could hear the
relief in her voice. "And I want to thank you again for last night." She
paused and he could easily picture the blood rushing to her cheeks
as the double meaning of her words became apparent. "Um, about last night ... I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but what we
did felt really natural and, well, pretty damned wonderful! I've
been acting like a pre-teen girl with a serious crush all day-wearing this goofy smile and writing your name all over my desk calendar... " she chuckled. "Okay, I'm trying not to make you blush or
anything. I just wanted to say that you make me happy. Bye!"
James smiled. He felt buoyant, as though everything in his life
was neatly falling into place. His reconnection with Jane had been
a unique experience. After all, they had been married, but she had
been a self-centered lover when they'd been together and had often seemed dissatisfied with their sex life. Last night, she was a different woman in bed. Playful and giving, she'd quickly put aside
her shyness and allowed him to explore her voluptuous body. In
return, she'd loved him with a mixture of tenderness and passion
she'd never shown during their marriage.
James could feel his pulse racing as he replayed the night over
and over, but then doubts began to worm their way into his mind,
disturbing his reminisces and causing him to question the wisdom
of being led by his libido.
We can't mess around like teenagers, he thought. No matter how
good it feels. There's Eliot to consider. If Jane and I are going to be together, it must be for all the right reasons. I've got to be one hundred
percent sure she and I are the real deal this time.
And therein lay the rub, James thought. He believed they'd been
the genuine article the first time around. He'd been so certain of
their future the night he'd knelt down and proposed. After he and
Jane divorced, he thought Lucy might be the love he'd waited for.
And then there was Murphy.
He'd been wrong about all of them.
"Let's face it," he remarked glumly to the photo of Jackson and
Milla on his desk. "I don't have clear judgment when it comes to
women. Yet you!" he pointed at his father. "You got it right-not
once but twice! And you're a cantankerous old man! How'd you
win the hearts of such wonderful women, Pop?"
"Talking to yourself again?" A teasing voice inquired.
James looked up to see Murphy Alistair standing in the threshold, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, mouth
upturned in amusement. If not for that expression, he might not
have recognized her right away, for she no longer looked like the
small-town reporter he'd once dated. Her hair had been dyed
to a rich, molasses-brown, chic Chanel frames had replaced her
academic-looking glasses, and she'd grown shockingly thin. Her
angular body was encased in a black sheath dress and she wore
a multi-strand red coral necklace. To James, she resembled a
younger version of Sarah Palin.
Out of politeness, he rose from his seat. "You look very cosmopolitan."
Murphy laughed. "Everyone really does wear black in New
York. I'd forgotten how all the Quincy's Gap ladies wear Pepto-
Bismol suits and Beatrix Potter hats."
"The whole Valley is more colorful than your concrete jungle."
James felt defensive of his beloved berg. "And there's a great pizza
place in town now, so I don't think The Big Apple's got much on
us.
"Right. Except for Broadway, the Met, unparalleled architecture, dozens of fabulous restaurants, and the latest trends in fashion, I guess Manhattan can't hold a candle to this place" She gestured out the window with a mocking smile.
James frowned. "If New York is such a utopia, why come back
to the sticks?"
Murphy smoothed her glossy hair. "In all honesty, it wasn't
easy to make friends there. I couldn't enjoy my success in a sea of
anonymity. My family is here in Shenandoah and frankly, I missed
the hustle and bustle of putting
relief in her voice. "And I want to thank you again for last night." She
paused and he could easily picture the blood rushing to her cheeks
as the double meaning of her words became apparent. "Um, about last night ... I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but what we
did felt really natural and, well, pretty damned wonderful! I've
been acting like a pre-teen girl with a serious crush all day-wearing this goofy smile and writing your name all over my desk calendar... " she chuckled. "Okay, I'm trying not to make you blush or
anything. I just wanted to say that you make me happy. Bye!"
James smiled. He felt buoyant, as though everything in his life
was neatly falling into place. His reconnection with Jane had been
a unique experience. After all, they had been married, but she had
been a self-centered lover when they'd been together and had often seemed dissatisfied with their sex life. Last night, she was a different woman in bed. Playful and giving, she'd quickly put aside
her shyness and allowed him to explore her voluptuous body. In
return, she'd loved him with a mixture of tenderness and passion
she'd never shown during their marriage.
James could feel his pulse racing as he replayed the night over
and over, but then doubts began to worm their way into his mind,
disturbing his reminisces and causing him to question the wisdom
of being led by his libido.
We can't mess around like teenagers, he thought. No matter how
good it feels. There's Eliot to consider. If Jane and I are going to be together, it must be for all the right reasons. I've got to be one hundred
percent sure she and I are the real deal this time.
And therein lay the rub, James thought. He believed they'd been
the genuine article the first time around. He'd been so certain of
their future the night he'd knelt down and proposed. After he and
Jane divorced, he thought Lucy might be the love he'd waited for.
And then there was Murphy.
He'd been wrong about all of them.
"Let's face it," he remarked glumly to the photo of Jackson and
Milla on his desk. "I don't have clear judgment when it comes to
women. Yet you!" he pointed at his father. "You got it right-not
once but twice! And you're a cantankerous old man! How'd you
win the hearts of such wonderful women, Pop?"
"Talking to yourself again?" A teasing voice inquired.
James looked up to see Murphy Alistair standing in the threshold, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, mouth
upturned in amusement. If not for that expression, he might not
have recognized her right away, for she no longer looked like the
small-town reporter he'd once dated. Her hair had been dyed
to a rich, molasses-brown, chic Chanel frames had replaced her
academic-looking glasses, and she'd grown shockingly thin. Her
angular body was encased in a black sheath dress and she wore
a multi-strand red coral necklace. To James, she resembled a
younger version of Sarah Palin.
Out of politeness, he rose from his seat. "You look very cosmopolitan."
Murphy laughed. "Everyone really does wear black in New
York. I'd forgotten how all the Quincy's Gap ladies wear Pepto-
Bismol suits and Beatrix Potter hats."
"The whole Valley is more colorful than your concrete jungle."
James felt defensive of his beloved berg. "And there's a great pizza
place in town now, so I don't think The Big Apple's got much on
us.
"Right. Except for Broadway, the Met, unparalleled architecture, dozens of fabulous restaurants, and the latest trends in fashion, I guess Manhattan can't hold a candle to this place" She gestured out the window with a mocking smile.
James frowned. "If New York is such a utopia, why come back
to the sticks?"
Murphy smoothed her glossy hair. "In all honesty, it wasn't
easy to make friends there. I couldn't enjoy my success in a sea of
anonymity. My family is here in Shenandoah and frankly, I missed
the hustle and bustle of putting
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