in her ear, “Let’s skip breakfast. I have a place reserved just for us,” did she suspect what he had in mind. Naïvely, she’d thought that in order to be alone with her he’d planned to take her to Denny’s in Delton for pancakes and sausages.
It had all been as natural as a bee finding its rose. There had been nothing self-conscious or awkward about undressing in front of each other. It was as if they’d been hanging up their clothes together all their lives. Their eyes had never left each other’s until every piece of clothing was removed, and then he had drawn her to the bed, his eyes devouring her, but in the most reverent and caring way. “CatherineAnn…,” he murmured, over and over like a prayer as he held and caressed her, and his body had felt so
right
, so
perfect
, next to hers that she’d hardly noticed the prick of pain in the moment the ocean had surged to the shore and sand and sea became one. It had been so wonderful that afterwards she’d been astonished—horrified—to feel wetness on her cheek and had turned in his arms to see tears on his face. “Trey!” she’d exclaimed, her heart seizing. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said, clutching her fiercely to him. “Nothing is the matter. It’s just that I… don’t feel like an orphan anymore.”
E MMA HEARD C ATHY COME IN and tiptoe down the hall to her room, Rufus following behind, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, making stealth impossible. Emma had been awake all night, the blinds of a window open to allow her to see the stars. A night sky of stars was comforting, for some reason. She had a habit of looking at them when she was troubled as she was now. Maybe
sad
better described her feelings. It had happened. She was sure of it. Her granddaughter had been deflowered. A grandmother sensed these things. Cathy and Trey had not gone to the breakfast hosted by the Kiwanis Club after the prom. One of the sponsors had called, concerned when the belle and beau of the ball had not shown up. If what Emma feared had happened, Monday morning, first thing, she’d make an appointment with Dr. Thomas for Catherine Ann to get a prescription for birth control pills.
M ABEL CHECKED HER ALARM CLOCK . Three fifteen in the morning. Trey was home. Her bedroom was next to the garage, and she’d heard him drive in. She felt depressed. Often when he was gone from the house, she checked his room for contraband—things like drugs, girly magazines, alcohol, lurid diaries—all for the responsible purpose of knowing what was going on in her nephew’s life. She’d found the box of condoms long ago, tucked into a desk drawer, and drawna sigh of relief. Trey had refused her pleas to go back for the tests Dr. Thomas had recommended, and Mabel had never felt her lack of influence over her nephew more. “When I’m ready,” he told her, but at least he was taking precautions against a favorable prognosis. From time to time, the number of condoms had decreased, but never when he had a date with Cathy. Tonight there were several missing.
She hoped Trey had been gentle with Cathy and that he would continue to love her as he always had, but her nephew was of such a mercurial nature. However, Cathy had a hold on him that no other girl was likely ever to have. Cathy was one of a kind, the kind he required to make him whole.
J OHN LET HIMSELF INTO HIS HOUSE , struck by the smell of greasy cooking that always greeted him when his father was home. He had left the light burning under the stove hood for him, and it shone on the pan of bacon fat and splatters remaining from his supper. John looked at the stove top, the sink of dirty dishes, the grimy dish towel hanging from the oven door, his father’s holey socks and scuffed boots under the table where he’d removed and left them, and felt the sickness spread through him that he’d fought all night. He pulled at his tie and passed through the kitchen without stopping for a drink of water to
It had all been as natural as a bee finding its rose. There had been nothing self-conscious or awkward about undressing in front of each other. It was as if they’d been hanging up their clothes together all their lives. Their eyes had never left each other’s until every piece of clothing was removed, and then he had drawn her to the bed, his eyes devouring her, but in the most reverent and caring way. “CatherineAnn…,” he murmured, over and over like a prayer as he held and caressed her, and his body had felt so
right
, so
perfect
, next to hers that she’d hardly noticed the prick of pain in the moment the ocean had surged to the shore and sand and sea became one. It had been so wonderful that afterwards she’d been astonished—horrified—to feel wetness on her cheek and had turned in his arms to see tears on his face. “Trey!” she’d exclaimed, her heart seizing. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said, clutching her fiercely to him. “Nothing is the matter. It’s just that I… don’t feel like an orphan anymore.”
E MMA HEARD C ATHY COME IN and tiptoe down the hall to her room, Rufus following behind, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, making stealth impossible. Emma had been awake all night, the blinds of a window open to allow her to see the stars. A night sky of stars was comforting, for some reason. She had a habit of looking at them when she was troubled as she was now. Maybe
sad
better described her feelings. It had happened. She was sure of it. Her granddaughter had been deflowered. A grandmother sensed these things. Cathy and Trey had not gone to the breakfast hosted by the Kiwanis Club after the prom. One of the sponsors had called, concerned when the belle and beau of the ball had not shown up. If what Emma feared had happened, Monday morning, first thing, she’d make an appointment with Dr. Thomas for Catherine Ann to get a prescription for birth control pills.
M ABEL CHECKED HER ALARM CLOCK . Three fifteen in the morning. Trey was home. Her bedroom was next to the garage, and she’d heard him drive in. She felt depressed. Often when he was gone from the house, she checked his room for contraband—things like drugs, girly magazines, alcohol, lurid diaries—all for the responsible purpose of knowing what was going on in her nephew’s life. She’d found the box of condoms long ago, tucked into a desk drawer, and drawna sigh of relief. Trey had refused her pleas to go back for the tests Dr. Thomas had recommended, and Mabel had never felt her lack of influence over her nephew more. “When I’m ready,” he told her, but at least he was taking precautions against a favorable prognosis. From time to time, the number of condoms had decreased, but never when he had a date with Cathy. Tonight there were several missing.
She hoped Trey had been gentle with Cathy and that he would continue to love her as he always had, but her nephew was of such a mercurial nature. However, Cathy had a hold on him that no other girl was likely ever to have. Cathy was one of a kind, the kind he required to make him whole.
J OHN LET HIMSELF INTO HIS HOUSE , struck by the smell of greasy cooking that always greeted him when his father was home. He had left the light burning under the stove hood for him, and it shone on the pan of bacon fat and splatters remaining from his supper. John looked at the stove top, the sink of dirty dishes, the grimy dish towel hanging from the oven door, his father’s holey socks and scuffed boots under the table where he’d removed and left them, and felt the sickness spread through him that he’d fought all night. He pulled at his tie and passed through the kitchen without stopping for a drink of water to
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