Flying High by Gwynne Forster Page B

over his shoulder before she had time to wipe the grin off her face and realized that she enjoyed joshing him. “Would you call Audrey and ask her to bring Ricky home?”
    “Yes sir-ree. Right now.”
    He went to his room and closed the door. He wasn’t in the mood to do battle with his emotions, and he didn’t feel like going to bed hard and aching.
    About an hour later, he had reason to question his sanity. Ricky’s squeals made the house come alive, and an insane kind of madness skated through him. He jumped up from his desk chair, flung open his room door and dashed to the stairs, where he saw Ricky tugging at Audrey’s hand as if urging her to climb the stairs with him.
    “Unca Nelson. Unca Nelson,” Ricky yelled, dropping Audrey’s hand and running up the stairs to meet him. He held out his arms and the child sailed into them, giggling and hugging him—and teaching him the wonder and purity of a child’s love. As he held Ricky—his only living blood relative—to his chest, the measure of his love for the boy startled him, and he closed his eyes as he dealt with the moment.
    Ricky’s tugging at his necktie triggered a change in his mood, and he opened his eyes only to have his heart lurch when his gaze fell on Audrey, who watched them from where she stood several steps below them. His right hand gripped the bannister. All that she felt, needed and desired of him blanketed her face. If only he could know for certain that she wouldn’t let him down!
    “Hello, Audrey,” he managed at last. “Thanks for bringing Ricky home and for taking care of him.” He put Ricky on his feet.
    “Unca Nelson, I wanna show Audie my room.”
    “She’s seen your room, Ricky.”
    “But she didn’t see my harp.”
    “Yes, I did,” Audrey said. “Hello, Nelson. Keeping Ricky was a pleasure.”
    He looked down at the anxious expression on Ricky’s face. “I don’t see why Audrey can’t have a look at your harp. Ask her to come up.” He looked at Audrey, making sure that they understood each other. “I’ll be in my room. Got some work to do.”
    Pain shot through his neck and shoulders and, without thinking, he grabbed the top of his right shoulder, grimacing as he did so. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it, but he didn’t see an alternative. Days would pass when he felt like a normal man, and then the gnawing ache, the piercing, stabbing, and pricking like hot arrows into his flesh would set in and torment him for a time. As soon as Audrey left the house, he’d take a hot shower and enjoy some relief.
    Unable to work as the pain intensified, he waited for Audrey to leave, for he didn’t want to meet her in the hall while only wearing a towel around his hips. The light tap on his door startled him; Ricky didn’t knock on his room door, but called out instead. He got up and went to open it.
    “Mind if I come in?”
    “It isn’t wise, Audrey.”
    “I know, but you’re in pain, and I can give you some relief even if it’s only temporary.”
    He didn’t know how he would react if she put her hands on him. “It’s not a good idea.”
    “Are you telling me you’d rather suffer than use a little self-control?”
    She had to know he wouldn’t shy away from that kind of challenge. With a shrug of his right shoulder, he stared down at her. “Okay. Shoot your best shot. What do you want me to do?”
    He could see her professionalism asserting itself. “Pull off your shirt and stretch out on that bed facedown.”
    He walked toward the bed and began pulling off his shirt. Then, for some unfathomable reason, he began to laugh.
    “What amuses you?” she asked, obviously nettled.
    “I was thinking about the legion of non-commissioned Marines who at one time or another would have liked to say that or something similar to me.” He stretched out. “Darling, please be gentle.” The words barely escaped his lips before he sat upright, shaking with laughter.
    “It never occurred to me that