her to Romania. We’ll have a real honeymoon.
The Junction City Country Club is a three-level limestone building set in the midst of lush hills. The club has an eighteen-hole golf course, two tennis courts, a swimming pool, a bar and dining room with a large fireplace at one end, a card room upstairs, and locker rooms downstairs.
Edward’s father had belonged to the club, as had Mary’s father, and Edward and Mary had been taken there since they were children. The town was a closely knit community, and the country club was its symbol.
When Edward and Mary arrived, it was late, and there was only a sprinkling of guests left in the dining room. They stared, watching as Mary sat down, and whispered to one another. Mary was getting used to it.
Edward looked at his wife. “Any regrets?”
Of course there were regrets. But they were castles-in-Spain regrets about the kind of glamorous, impossible dreams that everyone has. If I had been born a princess; if I were a millionnairess; if I received the Nobel Prize for curing cancer; if…if…if…
Mary smiled. “None, darling. It was a fluke that they even asked me. Anyhow, there’s no way I would ever leave you or the children.” She took his hand in hers. “No regrets. I’m glad I refused the offer.”
He leaned across to her and whispered, “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Let’s go.” Mary smiled.
In the beginning, when they were first married, their lovemaking had been fierce and demanding. They had a constant physical need for each other that could not be satisfied until they were both completely spent. The urgency had mellowed with time, but the emotions were still there, constant and sweet and fulfilling.
When they returned home now, they undressed without haste and got into bed. Edward held her close to him, then began to stroke her body gently, playing with her breasts, teasing the nipples with his fingers, moving his hand down toward the velvety softness.
Mary moaned with pleasure. “That feels wonderful.”
She moved on top of him and began flicking her tongue down his body, feeling him become hard. When they were both ready, they made love until they were exhausted. Edward held his wife tightly in his arms. “I love you so much, Mary.”
“I love you twice as much. Good night, darling.”
At three o’clock in the morning, the phone exploded into sound. Edward sleepily reached for the instrument and brought it to his ear. “Hello…”
A woman’s urgent voice said, “Dr. Ashley?”
“Yes…”
“Pete Grimes is havin’ a heart attack. He’s in pain somethin’ awful. I think he’s dyin’. I don’t know what to do.”
Edward sat up in bed, trying to blink the sleep away. “Don’t do anything. Keep him still. I’ll be there in half an hour.” He replaced the receiver, slid out of bed, and started to dress.
“Edward…”
He looked over at Mary. Her eyes were half open.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
“Wake me up when you come back,” Mary mumbled. “I think I’m going to feel sexy again.”
Edward grinned. “I’ll hurry.”
Five minutes later, he was on his way to the Grimes farm.
He drove down the hill on Old Milford Road toward J Hill Road. It was a cold and raw morning, with a northwesterly wind driving the temperature well below zero. Edward turned up the car heater. As he drove, he wondered whether he should have called for an ambulance before he left the house. The last two “heart attacks” Pete Grimes had had turned out to be bleeding ulcers. No. He would check it out first.
He turned the car onto Route 18, the two-lane highway that went through Junction City. The town was asleep, its houses huddled against the bitter, frigid wind.
When Edward came to the end of Sixth Street, he made the turn that took him onto Route 57 and headed toward Grandview Plaza. How many times had he driven over these roads on hot summer days with the sweet smell of
The Junction City Country Club is a three-level limestone building set in the midst of lush hills. The club has an eighteen-hole golf course, two tennis courts, a swimming pool, a bar and dining room with a large fireplace at one end, a card room upstairs, and locker rooms downstairs.
Edward’s father had belonged to the club, as had Mary’s father, and Edward and Mary had been taken there since they were children. The town was a closely knit community, and the country club was its symbol.
When Edward and Mary arrived, it was late, and there was only a sprinkling of guests left in the dining room. They stared, watching as Mary sat down, and whispered to one another. Mary was getting used to it.
Edward looked at his wife. “Any regrets?”
Of course there were regrets. But they were castles-in-Spain regrets about the kind of glamorous, impossible dreams that everyone has. If I had been born a princess; if I were a millionnairess; if I received the Nobel Prize for curing cancer; if…if…if…
Mary smiled. “None, darling. It was a fluke that they even asked me. Anyhow, there’s no way I would ever leave you or the children.” She took his hand in hers. “No regrets. I’m glad I refused the offer.”
He leaned across to her and whispered, “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Let’s go.” Mary smiled.
In the beginning, when they were first married, their lovemaking had been fierce and demanding. They had a constant physical need for each other that could not be satisfied until they were both completely spent. The urgency had mellowed with time, but the emotions were still there, constant and sweet and fulfilling.
When they returned home now, they undressed without haste and got into bed. Edward held her close to him, then began to stroke her body gently, playing with her breasts, teasing the nipples with his fingers, moving his hand down toward the velvety softness.
Mary moaned with pleasure. “That feels wonderful.”
She moved on top of him and began flicking her tongue down his body, feeling him become hard. When they were both ready, they made love until they were exhausted. Edward held his wife tightly in his arms. “I love you so much, Mary.”
“I love you twice as much. Good night, darling.”
At three o’clock in the morning, the phone exploded into sound. Edward sleepily reached for the instrument and brought it to his ear. “Hello…”
A woman’s urgent voice said, “Dr. Ashley?”
“Yes…”
“Pete Grimes is havin’ a heart attack. He’s in pain somethin’ awful. I think he’s dyin’. I don’t know what to do.”
Edward sat up in bed, trying to blink the sleep away. “Don’t do anything. Keep him still. I’ll be there in half an hour.” He replaced the receiver, slid out of bed, and started to dress.
“Edward…”
He looked over at Mary. Her eyes were half open.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
“Wake me up when you come back,” Mary mumbled. “I think I’m going to feel sexy again.”
Edward grinned. “I’ll hurry.”
Five minutes later, he was on his way to the Grimes farm.
He drove down the hill on Old Milford Road toward J Hill Road. It was a cold and raw morning, with a northwesterly wind driving the temperature well below zero. Edward turned up the car heater. As he drove, he wondered whether he should have called for an ambulance before he left the house. The last two “heart attacks” Pete Grimes had had turned out to be bleeding ulcers. No. He would check it out first.
He turned the car onto Route 18, the two-lane highway that went through Junction City. The town was asleep, its houses huddled against the bitter, frigid wind.
When Edward came to the end of Sixth Street, he made the turn that took him onto Route 57 and headed toward Grandview Plaza. How many times had he driven over these roads on hot summer days with the sweet smell of
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