Chet Williamson - Reign

His metaphysical musings were delightfully interrupted by Ann stirring next to him. Her eyes opened, and he saw for a moment that she did not know where she was. In a second, clarity came, and she sighed and smiled, then leaned over and kissed him.

"Good morning," she said.

"It is indeed," he agreed. "The best morning I've had in a long time."

"It was wonderful," she said, "to fall asleep in your arms. I didn't think it would ever happen, and in a way I always knew it would."

"I knew too. I love you, Ann."

"I love you."

She hugged him, and in another moment they were together, their bodies molded as one, and they made love again. This time there was less of the feeling of discovery that had added such a sweet sense of tension to their joining of the night before, but that was more than made up for by the sheer joy that now possessed them both. To wait so long and then find that their sexual coupling was so perfect, only a physical extension of the love that had remained all those years, was more than either could have asked. But it had been true, and it had been wonderful. In Dennis's arms, Ann was able to forget the terrors of her husband's death, and in Ann's arms, Dennis found the peace he needed as well.

Finally they lay, sweating and happy, the covers thrown back from the bed, looking at each other's bodies. "You look wonderful," Dennis said. "You look like a girl."

"You're an actor, but it's all right. And you look damned good yourself. How do you keep your stomach so flat?"

"A carefully designed program of exercise, diet, mental tension, pressure, and guilt. It works wonders. Now, how about some breakfast to fatten us both up?" He picked up the phone and pushed two numbers, then waited.

"Who are you calling?"

"Sid." Ann gasped, and pulled the sheet over her body. "Don't worry," Dennis laughed. "It's not a picture phone."

"But I don't want him to know that I'm -"

"That you're here?" He broke off and turned his attention to the phone. "Sid. Could we have two breakfasts please? Big ones… Yes, that's right. Two." Then to Ann, "How do you like your eggs?"

"Poached," she said, with a sigh of acceptance.

"Poached… sure, orange juice is fine. Thanks, Sid." He hung up the phone and smiled at her. "Sid is my right hand. He knows more about me than anyone else, maybe even me. He is also as circumspect as a clam."

"But, Dennis, I work with him. How will he act when he knows about us?"

"He already does. Now don't look so surprised. Over the years I talked about you a lot to Sid. There are a lot of lonely nights on the road when all you want to do is talk. And remember. He knows how I feel about you. He has for a long time."

"It's just that it's been such a short time since…"

"Since Robin's death. I know. But I can't tell my feelings to wait another two months. This is the 1990's, Ann. No one is going to criticize us for being in love."

She nodded, though her discomfort with the situation was evident. With all his heart he wanted to make her more comfortable, wanted to remove that look of doubt that wrinkled her lovely features. "And no one," he said, "is going to criticize us when we get married."

He didn't know what to make of her reaction, which began with wide-eyed surprise just short of shock. Then she laughed as if she had not believed what he had just said. "Married?"

"It's what we should have done twenty-five years ago. Things would have been very different for both of us. Better."

"Dennis, I -"

"Don't say no, Ann. You do love me."

"Yes, of course I love you…”

She paused, and in the silence he thought he could hear his heart pounding with dread. "I hear a 'but' coming."

"It's too soon," she said, and he thought he saw tears forming in her eyes. "It's just too soon. Oh, Dennis, I love you, how much I love you, but we can't get married now, not now."

"When?"

" Please, don't push me," she pleaded. "Sometime, I swear it. I want to marry you, Dennis. But it's too soon."

"Then you will?" he asked, touching her soft hair.

"You know I will."

"That's all I ask," he said. "It doesn't matter when. I've waited all these years, I can wait a few more months. And don't worry about what people will think. I can be as circumspect as Sid can. No one even has to know." He kissed her tenderly, and thought he had never tasted anything so wonderful as her mouth. Then he smiled. "We'd better get dressed."

Her face fell. "God, I'm going to look real businesslike in the dress I wore last night. So much for keeping secrets."

"Don't worry about it."

"I could call Terri… she probably hasn't left yet… ask her to bring…”

And then it hit her – Terri. She had realized, when she made her decision to spend the night with Dennis, that Terri would certainly know, but her need to be with Dennis had completely freed her mind of seeing her daughter afterward, that snide look of Terri's, the dry and bitter words that Ann tried not to hear in her mind. Perhaps, she thought, it would be better to call, ask her to bring a change of clothing. The girl could not be nearly as vicious over the phone as she could be in person.

"I'll get a shower," Dennis said. "Go ahead and call her if you like, but frankly I liked that dress last night." He kissed her again and vanished into the bathroom.

She steeled herself, pulled the covers higher over her body as if Terri could see her, and dialed her number, but there was no answer. Had she left already? Ann wondered. But no, it was only seven o'clock, and they never left the house before seven-thirty. It was possible that she had had breakfast out, but not likely. No matter how Terri criticized Mary, their live-in maid and cook, she had always loved her very English breakfasts. Ann hung up the phone, and waited for Dennis to finish his shower.

When Sid brought breakfast, she tactfully remained in the bedroom until he had gone, then joined Dennis in a breakfast nook that overlooked the plaza below. "Much cozier than the dining room," Dennis said, and Ann agreed.

"Do you eat this way every morning?" Ann asked, looking at the table filled with eggs, sausage, home fries, bagels and toast, and fresh fruit. "Your arteries must be as thick as cream."

"Not really," he said. "Robin always had big breakfasts, but she was able to work it off and not gain any weight. I usually just have a little fruit and some toast. But this morning calls for something a bit more festive."

The mention of Robin was disturbing. Ann could imagine her sitting across from Dennis where she was sitting now, eating like a trencherman, filled with life and happiness, at least before Ann had come along and unintentionally changed everything, making her jealous enough to kill, if what Dennis thought was true.

"I'm sorry," Dennis said. "I shouldn't have mentioned her."

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. It's a part of your life, like Eddie's a part of mine. Neither one of them will go away, not ever. But it's all right. I don't think we'd ever want them to."

"No," Dennis said. "They won't go away. But they don't have to come between us."

After breakfast, they sat and continued to talk, trying to make up for years of separation, and Ann knew that despite the guilt, despite her upcoming confrontation with Terri, despite everything, she was happy. At nine o'clock Ann told Dennis that she had better go down to the office.

"Do you want me to walk you down?"

"No," she said quickly. "I want to go in alone."

They decided to have dinner together again that weekend, and she kissed him at the door, then stepped into the hall. He waved, smiled, and closed the door rather reluctantly, she thought. She was glad of it.

But now she was alone, alone in the halls of the Venetian Theatre, and although she knew that Dennis would make good on his promise to bring it to life again, now, with the closing of that door, it once more felt full of phantoms. No matter how she struggled to shake off the feeling, the oppressiveness hung in the air like mist. She bit back her dread and began to walk the short distance down the hall to the elevator.