Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

I retreated, feeling I had won as much as I could from her at the moment. When I told Cary, he was ecstatic.

"I'll bring some lobsters and clams for dinner," he said. "We'll have May with us for a while, but I'll take her home in the afternoon."

"That's fine, Cary."

"She wants to know if she can bike out to Kenneth's with you one day. I explained how dangerous it is for her to go on the road by herself. She can't hear cars and trucks."

"I'll come by and get her one day. We'll be all right."

"It'll be a real treat for her," he said. "I haven't been able to do much for her these days and with Ma the way she is . . ."

"It's no problem, Cary. I want to do it," I assured him.

The next day Theresa and I made our final plans at school. The first time I met Theresa I thought she was a very serious girl, pretty but dour to the point of being angry. Since I was new in school, the principal asked her to show me around. We got off to a bad start because she assumed I would look down on her the way other so-called blue bloods did.

I thought she was one of the prettiest girls in the school, with her caramel complexion, black pearl eyes and ebony hair. After she realized I wasn't like the others, she permitted me to get closer to her and we quickly became good friends.

Theresa enjoyed the idea that we were conspiring against my grandmother. She thought of her just as most others did, The Iron Lady, Queen of Snob Hill.

"If she calls for you on the phone, I'll have my mother say we went to the library. Don't worry about my father. He won't ask questions. Since my mother died, he treats me like an adult. Are you going to spend the whole night with Cary?" she asked, her eyes bright with interest.

"No, I have to be back at your house before ten. That's when Grandma Olivia is sending Raymond to pick me up."

"Bummer," she moaned for me. "But, at least you'll have some time alone."

"Theresa Patterson, just hear you," I teased and we laughed. Everyone in the cafeteria gazed at us with jealousy, wondering what delicious secret we shared. Our sealed lips only stirred their curiosity more.

When Saturday came, I was so nervous I was positive Grandma Olivia would become suspicious, but she was preoccupied with a dinner party she was having for Congressman Dunlap and two of his legal aides. The only thing she said that put butterflies in my stomach was that she was sorry I wasn't going to be at the dinner.

"It's important for you to meet important people now," she declared. I thought she would insist I attend the dinner, but she hesitated and added, "but being named class valedictorian is important too. You'll be the first Logan to do so."

The tone of her voice was explicit: Don't fail to do it. Shaking when I got into the limousine, I took deep breaths and tried to calm down all the way to Theresa's.

As soon as Raymond dropped me off and left, Theresa gave me her bike and I started for the beach. Cary and May were already there, Cary working on the boat. He looked like Adonis, shirtless, his muscles glimmering in the sunlight.

"I was afraid you weren't coming," he said as I walked Theresa's bike over the sandy part of the road. May came running to me. We hugged and I looked at Cary. Neither of us had to say much to each other; it was all in our eyes.

I spent most of the afternoon with May, walking along the beach, searching for shells, telling her about school. She wanted to know more about boys. If any girl needed a big sister, it was May. Aunt Sara wasn't very comfortable explaining things to her. Sex, love and romance embarrassed her. I was the one who had explained what a menstrual cycle was, what changes would happen to her body, what her feelings would be like. Once, we had a long talk about what it meant to fall in love and she told me about a classmate she liked, a boy who had kissed her. Apparently, since I had been away, she had learned much more from her girlfriends at school, for when she looked at Cary and me and the way we spoke, touched and looked at each other, she smiled at us knowingly.

While Cary was bringing May home, I prepared our dinner and set the table. Constantly aware of my curfew, we savored the hours and minutes we had. I waited in front of the beach house, watching the twilight flood the sky with its rosy farewell to the day, flaming the clouds crimson, streaking violet shot through with saffron. Cary returned in the quickest time ever, his truck bouncing hard over the beach ruts.

"Everything's almost ready," I said when he hopped out of his truck and followed me into the house.

"Looks great," he said, but his eyes never left my face. Every time I turned, every time I lifted my gaze from the pots and dishes, I found him staring at me hungrily. My body filled with an ache, a hunger for his lips and his touch. Perhaps it was because we were so far from anyone, alone, in a domestic setting, behaving like married people, whatever the reason, I never felt more desire and passion for him than I did that night. We could barely eat, neither of us saying very much.

Cary leaped out of his seat at the end of the meal to help me clean up. Everything we did seemed designed to keep us under control. It was as if we both understood that the minute we were free of any other distraction, the moment we turned to each other, we would be in danger of consuming each other. Finally, I dried the last dish.

He stood back, gazing at me.

"Melody," he said softly and held out his hand. I took it and he led me out to the guest bedroom. Next to the bed, we kissed and held each other tightly. "I love you," he said.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and nodded. "I love you, too, Cary. Very much."

I kept my eyes closed as his fingers undid the buttons of my blouse. In fact, I stood there, unmoving, waiting as he peeled my blouse down my arms, undid my skirt and drew it below my knees, lifting my leg gently for me to step out of it. Then he kissed my shoulders, my neck and undid my bra, drawing it from me while at the same time, he brought his lips to my nipples and nudged my breasts with his cheeks. My heart pounded hot blood through my body. When his hands lifted from my breasts or my shoulders, I cried out for their return.

Gently, almost in inches, he slipped my panties off. Naked, I stood before him, my eyes locked on his.

"Kenneth couldn't come close to portraying your beauty," he said. "Even if he worked every day for the rest of his life."