Best Kept Secrets(48)

that she was a woman. No children came to her asking for

lunch money or help with homework. No husband demanded

to know what she had cooked for dinner, or if she'd picked

up his cleaning, or if he could expect sex that night.

Daily she lamented not having all that glorious chaos in

her life. As regularly as some people said prayers, Stacey

enumerated to God the amenities of life that he had denied

her. She longed for the racket of children running through

the house. She yearned to have a husband reach for her in

the night, to nuzzle her breasts and satisfy her hungering,

restless body.

Like a priest who takes up self-flagellation, she went to

her bureau, opened the third drawer, and took out the photograph

album with the embossed white leather cover.

She opened it with reverence. One by one, she fondled the

precious mementos--a yellowed newspaper clipping with her

picture, a small square paper napkin with silver letters spelling

out two names in one corner, a crumbling rose.



She leafed through the plastic binders, gazing at the photographs

pressed between them. The people posing for the

pictures in front of the altar had changed very little over the

years.

After nearly an hour of masochistic reverie, Stacey closed

the album and replaced it in its sacred drawer. Stepping out

of her shoes so as not to spoil the comforter on her bed, she

lay down and drew her pillow against her chest, snuggling it

against her curved body like a lover.

Hot, salty tears leaked from her eyes. She whispered a

name, urgently and repeatedly. She ground the heel of her

hand over her lower body to relieve the pain of emptiness

inside her womb, which had been a receptacle for his body,

but never his love.



Fourteen



"Hey, what the hell, you two?" Junior exclaimed, dividing

his puzzled glance between Alex and Reede. Then, buffeted

by a gust of wind, he moved out of the doorway and urged

them inside. "Come in. I couldn't imagine who'd come calling

on a day like this. Reede, you ought to have your head

examined for dragging Alex all the way out here."

He was wearing an ancient pair of jeans with the knees

worn through, a cotton sweater, and thick white socks. It

looked like he hadn't been up very long. In one hand he was

holding a steaming mug of coffee; in the other, a trashy

paperback novel. His hair was appealingly mussed. Stubble

shadowed the lower half of his face.

Having recovered from the surprise of finding them on his



doorstep, he smiled down at Alex. She thought he looked

terrific and figured that most of the women in the world would

agree with her. He looked lazy and rich, sexy and rumpled,

comfortable and cushy. He invited snuggling, and his slow

smile suggested that's what he'd been doing when they had

interrupted.

"I didn't drag her out here," Reede said touchily. "It was

the other way around."

"I was willing to come alone," Alex snapped.

"Well, I wasn't willing to let you become a highway statistic

in my county," he shouted. Turning to Junior, who was

bemusedly taking in their heated exchange, Reede said, "To

make a long story short, I drove her out here because she

was determined to come and I was afraid she'd kill herself

--or worse, somebody else--on these roads. So, here we

are."

"Well, I'm damned glad you're here," Junior said. "I

had resigned myself to spending a boring day here alone.

I've got a great fire going in the living room, and all

the makings for hot toddies. Follow me." He set off, but

turned and added, "Oops, Reede, you know how Mother

is about having the floors tracked up. Better take your boots

off."

"Fuck that. Is Lupe in the kitchen? I'm gonna try and

sweet-talk her out of some breakfast." Giving no regard to

Sarah Jo's floors, he tramped toward the back of the house

as though he still lived there.

Alex watched him disappear through a doorway. "Did he

say sweet talk!" she asked caustically.

"Oh, he's in a sunny mood today," Junior remarked negligently.

"You ought to see him when he's really pissed.

Leave Reede to Lupe. She knows how he likes his eggs. He'll

feel better once he eats."

Alex let him help her off with her coat. "I hope this isn't

too much of an intrusion."

"Hell, no. I wasn't kidding when I said I'm glad you're

here." He threw his arm across her shoulders. "Let's--"



"Actually," Alex said, shrugging off his arm, "this isn't

a social call."

"Business, huh?"

"Yes, and extremely important. Is Angus here?"

"He's in his den." His smile was still in place, but it had