Joan Pickart - Body of Evidence

“This could take a while. I might be very late.”

“Evan, I’ve waited a lifetime for you. A few more hours are fine. I’ll be there…waiting for you to come home.”

Evan smiled, brushed his lips over Jennifer’s, then picked up his briefcase.

“I’ll get there as soon as I possibly can,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, I… No, wait a minute,” Jennifer said, pointing one finger in the air. “I have one teeny-tiny question first.”

“Whip it on me.”

“What dog and cat?”

Their mingled laughter echoed through the big, empty room as Evan encircled Jennifer’s shoulders with one arm and they walked through the double doors, taking the first steps toward their future, their forever…together.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Yes,” Jennifer said, then watched her future husband stride out of view down the corridor.

It was nearly nine o’clock when Evan knocked on the door of Jennifer’s apartment. She rushed to greet him, frowning when she saw the exhaustion etched on his rugged features.

“You’re so tired,” she said, as Evan sank onto the sofa.

“You should have called and told me you were going home to get some sleep.”

“Not a chance,” he said, tugging on her hand so she’d settle next to him, which Jennifer did willingly. “Today the woman I love agreed to marry me, spend the rest of her life with me. Sleep can wait. Seeing you tonight definitely could not.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiled at him warmly. “Now, tell me what happened.”

“His lawyer wasted a lot of time with bluster and blow,” Evan said, yanking the knot of his tie down and undoing the two top buttons of his shirt. “You know, what does a ring prove? Anyone could have been wearing it the night Franklin Gardner was killed to frame Lyle and blah, blah, blah. But anyone didn’t pawn it, Lyle did, and he finally confessed to the whole thing.

“To make a long story short, my Jenny, they copped a plea for manslaughter in the second degree due to the fact that Franklin actually died from whacking his head on the table, not from being beat up by Lyle, or stabbed with the ice pick.”

“Well, it’s better than having the creep walking the streets.”

“True. Oh, Cecelia was there during the negotiations, which was interesting.”

“Why? What did she say?”

“Nothing. She… I don’t know how to explain it…but she seemed to shrink, turn old before my eyes. I think it finally hit her that all the money in the world couldn’t solve this problem. When we reached an agreement of fifteen years with no parole, she got up and walked out of the room. Lyle called to her, but she didn’t even look at him. Lyle just put his head down on the table and started to cry.”

“My goodness.”

“Chalk up one for the good guys. We won. Justice has been served. But, Jenny? That isn’t why this day will always be very special to me, why I’ll see this date on the calendar in years to come and smile, remembering. Remembering that the classy lady who stole my heart, the wonderful woman, the mother of my son, agreed to be my wife on this day.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” Jennifer said, then sniffled.

“No, I’m going to make love to you, with you, if you’re willing,” Evan said, then brushed his lips over hers. “I love you, Jenny.”

“And I love you, Evan.”

Evan kissed Jennifer deeply, then with no more words spoken and none needed, they went down the hallway to her bedroom.

And it was magic.

Clothes seemed to float away with a mere thought, and the blankets on the bed were swept back by an invisible hand to reveal cool mint-green sheets that beckoned.

They tumbled onto the bed, then stilled, sweeping their gazes over each other in the golden glow of the small lamp on the nightstand. A body soft and womanly, with a tummy just beginning to show a gentle rise where a son was being nurtured. A body hard and masculine and taut with muscles. Perfect counterparts. And minds that matched with the knowledge that this was theirs to have, to rejoice in, because…

“We’re in love for all time,” Jennifer said, her voice ringing with awe and wonder. “That’s where the magic comes from, Evan…our love. This is how it should be. This is the difference between when we made love the first time and now…the love, the commitment to forever, the pledge.”

“We’ll always have the magic, Jenny.”

They kissed, caressed, explored and discovered anew the mysteries of each other, marveling, savoring, memorizing. The desire within them burned hotter, causing breathing to quicken and hearts to race.

When they could bear no more they joined, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping from Jennifer’s lips as a groan rumbled deep in Evan’s chest. He began to move within her, deep so deep, increasing the tempo, taking her with him as she matched him beat for beat. The heat coiled tighter, hotter. The moment of release neared. It was ecstasy. It was theirs.

And now…it was very, very right.

They were flung into oblivion seconds apart, each calling the name of the other, holding tightly through the wondrous journey, then drifting slowly back to lay close, not speaking, just feeling. Remembering. Tucking it all away in private chambers of hearts that wished to keep the memories of what they had just shared.

They slept. Heads resting on the same pillow and hands splayed on the other’s moist, cooling skin. Neither dreamed because no fantasy produced by subconscious minds could be more glorious than the reality of what had transpired.

When fingers of sunlight inched beneath the curtains on the window at dawn and tiptoed across the bed to wake Jennifer, she opened her eyes, then turned her head on the pillow to see Evan sleeping peacefully beside her.

“That’s your daddy, baby boy,” she whispered, spreading one hand over her bare stomach. “That magnificent, warm, funny, intelligent, loving man is your daddy.”

“Who is in love with your mommy, baby boy,” Evan said, as he slowly opened his eyes, then smiled at Jennifer. “Forever.”

A week later Jennifer stood in front of her open closet door wearing a silky slip and a frown.

“I don’t have a thing to wear,” she said aloud.

A newspaper suddenly appeared inches before her nose and she gasped in surprise before smiling and tilting her head back to look up at Evan who stood behind her.

“You want me to wear a creation made of newspaper to this shindig?” she said.

“No,” Evan said, chuckling. “I just thought you’d like to see yet another rave review about your documentary. It was aired three nights ago and the accolades are still pouring in.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her freshly shampooed hair. “Congratulations…again. May I have your autograph?”

“I think I should ask for your autograph,” she said. “After all, you were the star of the famous flick. Evan, move that paper before you get news-print on my nose. Oh, I really don’t have a thing to wear.”

Evan tossed the paper onto the bed, then narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the clothing choices on the hangers. He lifted the material of the full skirt of a silk, teal-blue dress with a pleated top and long sleeves.

“This is the dress you wore the night the mayor ordered us to have dinner together. I like it. It’s very pretty. Simple but classy.”

“You remember what I wore that night? That was several months ago.”

“I remember,” he said, looking directly into her eyes, “every detail of that night.”

“Really? You’re so sentimental. I don’t remember that you wore a dark brown suit that did wonderful things for your thick brown hair and fudge-sauce eyes. Nor do I recall that you added a tan shirt, chocolate-colored tie with a matching handkerchief peeking above the pocket of your jacket.”