Milton Granby - Four to a bed

Terrible visions rose up in her mind of Harry being flung into a dirty, crowded cell, maybe even victimized by the other inmates. Worse still, accused of something terrible which of course he didn’t do. And all because of that stupid demonstration!

“You can’t put him in jail just for speeding!” she’d almost yelled at the policeman, who’d answered the phone when she called first thing on Saturday. But they could and did, with a few choice remarks about guys who were speeding and giving them something else to do when their hands were already full.

Sandy felt full of an unreasonable dislike for the demonstrators, whom she had seen on television. Normally, she felt somewhat in sympathy with their views, although of course, she kept this well hidden from Harry, who harbored no such sentiments, but now she cold-heartedly wished them all in jail. To make matters worse, in her eyes, the demonstration had been remarkably peaceful, and except for a few scattered and very minor incidents, the police had nothing to do but keep watch. If there had been a lot of rioting and fighting, Sandy reasoned, there might be some justification for Harry being in jail, but she didn’t even have the solace of that.

But now, it was all over, and Harry was released. She could hardly wait to see him again. The weekend was like an eternity, and she missed him all the more because since their marriage, her whole existence was centered on him. He was her lifeline to the outside world, and she was temporarily cut off, a frightening experience. She knew she shouldn’t be so dependent on him, but assured herself that once she was used to the married state, and things were running smoothly, she could afford to develop other interests. But Harry came first and foremost. She could still hardly believe that they were actually married! She had been amazed when he, the college senior, had deigned to notice her, just out of high school. But he had, and had fallen in love with her. From the moment she set eyes on him, she knew he was the man for her, and that she wanted nothing more than to marry him. And so she had got her way, and she was happy… wasn’t she?

Yes! Yes! her mind proclaimed. She had everything she wanted – a lovely apartment, a wonderful husband, lots of free time to cook wonderful dishes, and do the needlepoint she loved to do. She knew it was rather an old-fashioned hobby, and her girlfriends used to laugh at her for it, but Harry had been delighted when he found out, and loved to point out the cushion covers and napkins she had worked. Yes, everything was perfect, except for…

She couldn’t help expressing a sigh of disappointment at the realization that the intimate side of marriage was not all she had hoped it would be. In fact, the first night, which she had looked forward to so eagerly, and planned in such detail, turned into a terrible fiasco, which gave her a twinge of terror every time she thought about it. And things hadn’t improved. She had a feeling it was all her fault, but she couldn’t help it. Harry was more experienced than she, who had no experience at all, and she couldn’t help feeling that he should be more patient and explicit with her. She had reconciled herself to the knowledge that in the past Harry had sexual relations with other women, and had nurtured the hope that he would be able to initiate and guide her all the better because of that. But sometimes, she got the impression that he was impatient with her timidity and her restraint, which she felt was only natural.

With a little sigh, she turned her attention back to the wall design she was stitching, which she was going to have framed and sent to Harry’s mother in Rockford. Things will work out. I know they will! she assured herself, almost fiercely, as she began to place the intricate little stitches, her ear attuned for the sound of her husband’s homecoming.

Harry pressed the button for the seventeenth floor and watched the automatic doors close in front of him. He was alone in the elevator, and a little in awe of the sumptuousness of the building. Somehow, he had never imagined Jeff living in a beautiful high-rise like this one, right on Lake Shore Drive. Of course, now that he thought about it, Jeff had kept himself impeccably clean and tidy while he was in the cell and seemed to have a real love of luxury. I wouldn’t mind living here myself ! Harry grinned as he stepped out on the seventeenth floor, and made his way along the luxuriantly carpeted floor to Apartment Number 1708, where the Greens lived. Harry still hadn’t got used to being a free man, and wondered what former convicts, who had spent years behind bars, must feel like after emerging. He knew for sure he wouldn’t take his freedom for granted again, the way he did before the weekend. He felt like crying with relief when the guard had come and told him he could go. He was so jubilant for a moment, that he forgot about his friend Jeff who was still being detained.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeff had assured him, “it won’t be long now till something happens.”

Harry felt deflated at that, wondering what it must be like to have no notion of when you would be released.

“It’s Ann I’m worried about, though,” Jeff had continued, “They don’t let her visit me as yet, and she must be going out of her mind with worry. Of course, she phones and finds out how I’m doing, but that’s not the same thing!”

“If you like, I’ll go and see her,” Harry heard himself suggesting, “and let her know you’re okay.”

“Would you?” Jeff’s face was visibly relieved. “It would really set my mind at rest, and I know it would do Ann the world of good to get the word firsthand more or less!”

“I'd be glad to!” Harry assured him gallantly.

“I'd really appreciate it, old buddy,” Jeff thanked him, squeezing his hand in a tight handshake.

As soon as he had stepped out on the pavement, Harry decided to go visit Mrs. Green, give her her husband’s message, and then hurry home to spend the whole day, and night, with Sandy. He wondered briefly if he should call his wife, and let her know he was on his way, but decided against it. I’ll surprise her , he smiled to himself…

He rang the bell to No. 1708, his mind still full of his wife, and how glad he would be to see her. He hoped she’d be happy to see him too, and maybe they could start anew. Perhaps the weekend he’d spent away in jail would be like a purging, giving them a chance to make a fresh start…

“Hello! Can I help you?” A rich sultry voice broke in on his thoughts, and Harry looked up to find himself confronting the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. For a moment, he could just stand there, staring at her open-mouthedly, his eyes widening as he took in the full voluptuousity of her spectacular figure, clad strikingly in a tight red sweater and clinging black toreador pants.

After a moment, his voice returned to him and he gulped a reply.

“Y-yes, I’m Harry Pitt… I’m… I’m a friend of Jeff’s!”

“Well, come in, Harry,” the gorgeous raven-haired woman chuckled, “I’m always glad to meet a friend of Jeff’s!”

Harry followed her into the apartment, and his eyes stared in disbelief as they took in the utter sumptuousness of the living room. A long low couch ran the length of one wall, and was matched by several occasional chairs of the same modern style, all covered in a restful beige material. A stunning marble and wrought iron coffee table was placed in front of the couch, and the beautiful dark wood parquet floor was almost covered by a deep shaggy rug in off-white, made from some exotic animal which Harry couldn’t. place. It’s wool was almost like Astrakhan but somehow longer and even curlier From the splendor of the rug, Harry’s attention was drawn to the magnificent window, really a solid glass wall, which gave a breathtaking view out onto Lake Michigan, with Lake Shore Drive and the verdant expanse of Lincoln Park below. Harry had never seen an apartment like it. If his lovely hostess noticed his astonishment, she didn’t show it.