The Happiest Day Page 12

  “I don’t know how to say no to him. I’m sorry.”

  Peter sat back, his mind working to find a way from losing her again. “Can’t we just go back to the way things were, before that night?”

  “Can we?”

  He knew they couldn’t but he wasn’t about to admit to it. “Of course we can. If Norris doesn’t want us to be alone, fine. Just stop avoiding me. It’s not what you want, I’m sure of it.”

  “Of course it’s not what I want.” She came closer to him. “I love being with you. You know that.”

  “You’ll stop running like a scared rabbit every time I get near you?”

  She looked at him with serious eyes. “You’ll not try to seduce me?”

  “I swear to you, I’ll not force you. If you come to me, though, that’s a different story.”

  She nodded. “I won’t come to you. I can’t.”

  He accepted her proclamation with a solemn nod, but knew he had every intention of making her come to him.

  Chapter 11

  In June of 1923, the family headed for vacation in South Carolina. Norris had bought a beach home on Myrtle Beach. He had gone to South Carolina on business the year before and had toured the up and coming beach community. He had arranged for a home to be built there, envisioning family summers filled with memory-making days. Peter and Bert could only get away from work for a week but Rachel was happy for the time she would get to spend with them. Her relationship with Maryanne was back on solid ground and she cherished time she spent with little Alan. The beach home had five bedrooms, a large kitchen, and a wrap-around porch. It was a home built for a family.

  Upon arrival, Rachel immediately changed into her new swimsuit. It was a two-piece outfit consisting of a white jersey shirt, navy blue flannel trousers that ended just above her knee and a white belt. After changing Alan, Maryanne put on her one piece suit consisting of a black satin frock with knickers. They felt very chic and very daring. The men, excluding Norris, all wore knee length shorts with tank tops.

  They set up umbrellas and blankets and settled back to enjoy the summer breeze and the sound of the surf. Norris sat on a lounge chair, not willing to change from his white linen slacks and shirt, reading a local newspaper. Laurie and Geoff headed for the water while Maryanne kept a close eye on her son as he played in the sand.

  “Daddy, this was the best idea,” she called over to Norris. “I think I’ll stay all summer.”

  Norris looked over his newspaper. “You’re more than welcome to stay the summer, darling. When I built this house, I hoped the family would want to spend a lot of time here.”

  “Could you live without me all summer, Bert?” Maryanne asked with a laugh.

  “Hey, if you’re staying, I’m staying,” Bert answered, stretching out on a blanket, crossing his arms under his head. “Mac, can you cover for me this summer?”

  Peter dropped on the blanket next to Rachel. “Haven’t I been covering for you for years?”

  “Hey!” Bert protested. “So, is that a yes or a no?”

  Peter threw a look at Rachel. “Why do I get the sinking feeling that he’s serious?”

  Rachel laughed. “Not everyone is as dedicated to work as you are.”

  “Norris is,” he said softly and nodded to his step-father who was making marks in the newspaper.

  Rachel watched her husband for a moment, and then turned back to Peter. “Work is his life. I guess, though, if he wasn’t like this, we wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

  “True.”

  “Why didn’t Blanche come?”

  “I didn’t invite her. She would have just made everyone miserable.”

  “Am I a horrible person for saying that I’m glad she’s not here?”

  “The worst. I’m ashamed of you.” He lay back on the blanket. “Come on, Spider, relax with me.”

  Her relationship with Peter had grown deeper and into something she wasn’t willing to define. He and Norris appeared to have found peace with each other and he continued to visit the estate almost every day when not tied up in a case. Peter was overt in his concern for her and often asked her if she was happy. She didn’t know how to explain to him that, in some ways, she had never been happier. She knew he had feelings for her, maybe even loved her. He had obeyed the boundaries she had set on their relationship but there were times that she ached so badly for him, she could barely breathe. She thought that her life was very strange. She was married to a man who no longer was interested in touching her and in love with a man who had no right to touch her. She didn’t indulge herself in fantasies of being with Peter because she felt that there was no reason to dream of things she couldn’t, or shouldn’t have.

  He looked at her now, quizzically. “Relax, dear.”

  She lay back with him, shielding her eyes from the sun by placing her arm over her face. She listened to the sounds of summer and the sounds of family. She could hear Alan squealing and laughing, Maryanne’s gentle voice as she interacted with him. Bert’s deeper voice floated across the sand as he abandoned his blanket to help them build a sand castle. In the distance, she heard Laurie and Geoff’s teenage voices, maturing into men’s tones, as they roughhoused in the waves. The occasional rustle of paper let her know that Norris still sat near her, his attention focused on the layout and content of the newspaper.

  Then she blocked out all of the sounds to focus on the man next to her. She could smell his unique male essence, hear his even breathing, and feel the hair on his arm brushing hers lightly. She felt an incredible sense of well being and the hurt of the past two years began to float away on the ocean breeze. She turned her head and could feel that her lips lay just millimeters from Peter’s salty shoulder. She inhaled deeply, and then opened her eyes.

  Peter’s eyes were opened as well and they held eye contact for what seemed an eternity. His hand slid over on the blanket and touched hers. She moved her fingers slightly and his lips turned up a bit of the corners. His eyes closed and he turned his head back to the original position. Rachel followed suit.

  “Do you ever read Poe?” Peter asked surprisingly.

  “He’s not my style,” she answered. “Too dark, too sad. Real life is sad enough.”

  “He wrote a poem when he was a young man called The Happiest Day. Ever heard of it?”

  “No. What is it about?”

  “Poe talks about the emotional downfall after you experience your happiest moment. He said that the higher you fly, the harder you fall.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “I think about that poem a lot. Every time I wish things could be better, be happier, I remember Poe’s words. Maybe it’s a good thing that happiness seems to elude this family.”

  “Peter…don’t say that. I’m happy right now.”

  “Are you?”

  “I am. In fact, this is my happiest day.”

  He was silent for a long time and she thought he may have fallen asleep. He squeezed her fingers, though, and said, “I agree, Spider. This is my happiest day, too, because I’m here with you.”

  They spent the day on the beach then fixed a big dinner with plenty of wine flowing. There was laughter and music and Rachel often found Peter’s eyes on her. He possessed an intensity tonight that was overwhelming to her. She began to feel flushed, and pushed away the wine glass, blaming it for the powerful feelings coursing through her veins. Norris went to bed around ten o’clock, kissing her gently on the forehead.

  “Come to bed whenever you like, my sweet. You know how heavily I sleep. You won’t bother me.”

  She nodded and smiled up at him, hating the charade they had to play. They couldn’t avoid sharing a room, but she knew that Norris would sleep on the chaise lounge.

  Maryanne retired as well, needing to nurse the baby and put him down for the night. Bert enjoyed a cigar with Peter on the dark porch then left to join his wife. Around midnight, Laurie and Geoff couldn’t stifle their yawns and Peter encouraged them to go to bed. “We have a week,” he told them
. “We don’t have to cram everything into one night.”

  They acquiesced and left Peter and Rachel alone on the large porch and she felt a strange thrill when he stubbed out his cigar and stared at her. His white linen shirt was stark against his suntanned chest, his forearms strong below the rolled up sleeves.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

  “I don’t think so,” she responded in a light, teasing voice.

  The air was charged between them with an electricity Rachel hadn’t felt for many months. “Come here,” he ordered lightly. She remembered his words a few months ago that if she came to him, all promises were null and void. She knew that her future hung in the balance of this very moment.

  She moved, as if in a dream, over to the porch swing where he sat and he pulled her gently down to him, drawing her against his body, under the crook of his arm.

  “I think I drank too much wine,” she said, barely recognizing her voice. She realized with a start that she was slick and warm between her legs. She felt a flush working its way down her body and she knew that a dangerous situation was forming.

  “I think we both did,” he said, and lowered her face into her hair. “You smell like salt water and sunshine.”

  “Are you trying to be poetic?”

  He moved his lips to the shell of her ear and whispered, “Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be…Browning had a way with words, didn’t he?” His lips nuzzled her ear. “Should I continue?”

  She turned to look him in the face straight on, wanting to ask him what was going to happen next. Had Norris been right? Had this all been a game with the reward being Peter’s seduction of her? Did he love her? If they made love, how would they look at each other in the morning?

  “Rae,” he said, tilting her chin up, with a smile. “You’re thinking too hard. The first rule of love-making is to turn off your brain.”

  “Is that what this is?” Her voice trembled.

  “That’s what this has been since we were on the blanket on the beach and you looked at me.”

  “I don’t know if this is right…”

  “Stop thinking,” he ordered gently.

  “How do I do that?”

  “Just feel.” He ran his hands through her hair. “Close your eyes, just feel. Tell me what feels good.” He massaged through her hair. “Do you like this?”

  “Mm, yes.” She tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering shut.

  His hands moved to her throat and he stroked it lovingly, and then pressed his lips to where her pulse beat a rapid tattoo. “Do you like this?”

  “Yes,” she cried, her voice breaking a little.

  His hands came up to cup her breasts. “This?”

  “Oh, God…”

  He continued the sensual assault on her and she felt herself melting in his arms. He hauled her up against him and buried his face in her hair. “I want to take you to my bed. Will you come with me?”

  She only nodded, afraid to talk. He stood and held his hand out to her which she took willingly. He led her through the house, turning off lights as he went. They entered his room and he locked the door behind them. It was dark in his room, but the light of the moon shone in through the window, allowing them to see each other a little. They simply stood and stared.

  “I’d like to take your dress off,” he said several moments later. “May I?”

  “Yes, as long as I can take your shirt off.” She smiled a little, the dimple deepening just a bit.

  His heart jumped and he knew then that she had set aside any reservations. She was his for the night. He couldn’t even remember when he started wanting her—maybe even before he even knew it. All he knew was that he couldn’t survive without her in his life.

  “Be my guest, sweetheart.” He held his arms out in mock surrender. “Undress away.”

  Her fingers flew down the buttons of his shirt and she pushed it off of his shoulders. “Oh, it’s nice,” she breathed, running her hands over his chest.

  “You’ve seen me without a shirt before,” he reminded her. “We’ve swam together more time than I can count.”

  “This is hardly the same,” she laughed. “I wasn’t allowed to touch you like this. You’re so strong...so hard…”

  Her words seem to take the breath from him and he said in a weak voice, “Woman, you are going to make me lose control.”

  One by one, their clothes fell to the floor and when she stood only in her underwear, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He continued to worship her body with his mouth and his hands, shocking her when he placed his mouth between her legs.

  “No,” she cried without conviction, waves of pleasure rolling over her.

  “Yes,” he insisted. “When will you learn to trust me?”

  “I’ll be quiet, I promise,” she said with a breathless laugh.

  “I wish you didn’t have to be. I want you to scream and moan and anything else you want to do, but we need to be careful.” The lash of his tongue elicited an immediate moan from her and she laid her arm over her mouth to stifle the sounds.

  When he lifted his body up to cover hers, he pressed his lips to hers comfortingly. “What’s your pleasure? Gentle or hard?”

  She laughed and pressed her hands through his hair to cup the base of his skull. “It doesn’t matter. Just make me yours.”

  His eyes darkened and he thrust into her. They moved together, their sweat slickened skin sliding against each other, building an intense friction. Their foreplay had been building all day so neither of them lasted longer than a few minutes. She felt him losing control first and it excited her so much she arched against him, shattering and crying out loudly. He brought a hand up, covering her mouth with it to prevent waking anyone else in the house.

  “Oh God, Rachel,” he moaned into her ear, thrusting into her one last time. Rachel felt his hot seed spill into her and she linked her arms and legs around him, never wanting to let go. He had cried her name, something her husband had never been able to do.

  When their heartbeats returned to normal, she whispered, “Was I too loud? Do you think anyone heard us?”

  “I think everyone is asleep. We should be fine.”

  Two doors down, Norris sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes blank.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, Rachel rose before Norris. He had been restless all night, tossing and turning on the chaise lounge, but now he slept heavily. She dressed in a light-weight white dress and pulled her hair back in a ribbon. Glancing at herself in a mirror, she couldn’t help but notice that her skin was glowing and her eyes held a sparkle that hadn’t been there for months, if ever. She saw a small mark high on her neck and hurriedly pulled down a piece of hair to cover it.

  The glimmer in her eyes died. She was an adulteress. There was no turning back from last night. Even if she could, she wasn’t sure that she would.

  She slipped out of the bedroom noiselessly and padded into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and opened the sliding glass door to step out on the porch. The smell of salt hair hit her and she inhaled deeply. A soft, warm breeze was blowing and she felt the loose lock of hair move and she reached up self-consciously. She would have to tell Peter to be more careful next time. Next time. If she returned to his bed, she was accepting that this had not just been one night fueled by the romance of the beach and a few glasses of wine. She was choosing an affair.

  “Hey.”

  She looked over her shoulder. It was Geoff. “Good morning. You’re up early. Did you sleep well?”

  “Like a rock,” he affirmed. He sat down on the nearest patio chair and lifted his legs to rest on the porch railing.

  Rachel studied the young man who been as close as a brother to her. He looked so much like his father, but had the youth and vitality that was absent in Norris. He had a charismatic personality, drawing people to him like a moth to light. Rachel wondered what his future held.

  “So, you’re fin
ished with school.” She sat down next to him. “You must be pretty happy about that.”

  He shrugged. “I guess. I’ll miss my friends at school, though. I’m thinking about going back to Boston for college. I applied to Harvard Business School and I was accepted. I just haven’t told Dad, though.”

  “He’d be proud of you.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. He was pretty sure that I was going to go to school at home and work for him. I don’t think he’ll like that I did something without telling him first.” The breeze ruffled his blond hair. “Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is Dad O.K.?”

  “What do you mean? His health?”

  “I guess. It’s just that he seems to be under a lot of stress. I mean, he’s always worked hard but when he was with us, he would relax a bit. Now, he just seems unhappy most of the time.”

  Rachel stared into her glass of juice, unsure of how to answer him. “I…I don’t think that our marriage has turned out like he thought it would,” she finally answered truthfully.

  Geoff made a little sound, somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. “Of course it isn’t. I don’t know what he was thinking when he did it. You’re like a daughter to him.” He threw her a look filled with scrutiny. “I know that you two weren’t having an affair before Mother died. What I can’t figure out is why you agreed to lie.”

  She was silent for a long time. “Your father saved me once, Geoff. I owed him the same.”

  He dropped his legs and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his head down. “What were you saving him from, Rae?” he asked quietly, his tone hesitant.

  She was taken aback. “He…well, you know. He was being accused of killing your mother and Frederick.”

  He looked up at her, his eyes serious. “Did he?”

  “No,” she lied firmly. “Geoff, everything was as he said. Please don’t re-open this wound. We’re all trying to heal.”