Enchanted Again by Nancy Madore

mind. Their kiss was lazy and affectionate but quickly becoming more passionate. Pressed up so close against Harvey, she could feel him growing hard against her. She slipped her hand down inside the band in his boxer shorts and grasped his growing hardness. Stroking him all the while, she brazenly turned her body on its side, facing away from him, and pulled up her nightdress while simultaneously pressing her bare bottom into the curve of his groin, wiggling around his hardness so that it settled in between her cheeks. Needing no further encouragement Harvey pressed himself into her soft wetness from behind, holding her firmly in his arms while he found his pace with her in this position. She lay on her side with her legs bent toward her body to accommodate him better. They had not exchanged a single word. Harvey took her swiftly and urgently this time, holding back only until she was satisfied and then releasing himself inside her with a groan.
    Neither moved away afterward; they merely drifted back to sleep while still joined in the embrace of their lovemaking. Carol lay silently in Harvey’s arms, feeling truly safe and protected for the first time in her life. His warmth was almost overwhelming with the blankets over their bodies, holding the heat in, but she could not bring herself to move away from him. She would rather suffocate than move away. Yes, at long last this was where she belonged.
     
    Several weeks later no one would have guessed that she had been through any kind of trauma at all when Carol stepped into the little café with a confident air, swishing her lovely curls this way and that as she looked around the room.
    “Surely this can’t be the Carol I’ve come to know and love,” someone asked her from behind. She turned to see Mary laughing at her. “I don’t think in all the time I have known you, you’ve ever been on time!”
    Carol laughed. “A near-death experience will do that to a girl.”
    “You look amazing.”
    “I feel amazing,” Carol responded happily. “Let’s get a table.”
    Mary stared openly at Carol with an almost incredulous expression on her face. She seemed to sense something different about her.
    “A Shirley Temple for me,” Carol told the waitress when they were seated. When Mary heard this her expression became one of genuine shock. Carol laughed. “I’m driving.”
    “Of course,” said Mary. “You’re perfectly right.” Things seemed to be changing too quickly for Mary to comfortably absorb.
    There was silence for several moments. Neither appeared to know exactly how to broach the subject that was uppermost on their minds. A palpable sadness hung in the air around them.
    “I went to see Jane,” Mary said at last.
    “Oh?” queried Carol, keeping her expression fixed. “How was she?”
    “The same.”
    “What’s going to happen to her?” Carol wondered halfheartedly.
    Mary sighed. “I don’t know. I guess for the time being they’ll keep her in that place.”
    There was another pregnant silence. Mary seemed to be struggling for the right words. “What on earth happened that night?” she asked at last.
    “I have no idea,” Carol said, also carefully choosing her words. “I was so drugged up during that time it’s all kind of fuzzy,” she lied. “All I really remember is Jane freaking out.” She shuddered all of a sudden and that was genuine. She looked at Mary, repeating the account that she knew Mary had already heard from Harvey and the nursing staff. “She kept screaming that she was me, over and over again.”
    “Did she say anything else?” Mary wanted to know.
    “Not that I can recall,” Carol said, pretending to consider the question at length. She paused a moment and then asked in a casual tone, “Did Jane say anything to you?”
    Mary shook her head. She had noticeably paled. “I do remember thinking she seemed a little overly interested in your recovery, but I had no idea she was so affected by what happened. I thought she