H. Hawkes - For couples only

"Just one," she said contentedly. "Over easy." Then she lay back and watched Boyd leave for the kitchen again. She sipped at the coffee.

It was nice. Boyd was right to insist they forget about it. She felt an extra warmth in her breast at the sound of cracking egg shells, an almost overflowing of love for Boyd.

But something puzzled her, didn't seem to fit. Boyd's smile? It was such a strange smile, such a knowing smile. He'd never smiled at her quite like that before, yet she had seen it. That first night she met him. He'd smiled exactly that way when her father signed the papers of the insurance policy Boyd had come to sell him. Could that mean anything, she wondered?

Reproaching herself for being so suspicious, for wanting to analyze everything until it made sense, she took another swallow of coffee. The coffee seemed to stick in her throat and form a lump. Some of the warm liquid went down her windpipe, causing her to cough and sputter. That it might be a bad omen flashed across her mind. She shook her head and laughed. That's silly, she thought. But still it bothered her.

What had Lucia said about Boyd last night? She couldn't recall the older woman's words. The words were not so important anyway. It was the way Lucia'd said it. Faith had felt that Lucia was in reality telling her much more than her few words had conveyed.

"Quit it, Faith!" she said aloud, to herself. "Cud chewing is for cows, not people."

Monday morning. A beautiful day. The radio blared triumphantly in the laundry room. Faith hummed happily along with the voice coming from the radio. She pulled a load of freshly washed clothes from the washer. In time to the beat of the music, she dropped the still steaming clothes into a plastic basket. At last her probing hand found nothing. She peered down into the washer and saw one of Boyd's socks sticking to the side. Pulling it loose, she stepped over to the last load of dirty clothes. She rolled the damp sock between her hands until it was a warm ball, then pitched it basketball fashion on top of the clean clothes in the basket.

"You're the one I've been looking for," she accused, bending over to scoop up a double armload of the final pile of wash.

She dropped the last load into the washer, retrieved the three pieces still on the floor, basketballed them into the washer also, and set the dials on the machine. She added detergent and stood watching until the machine seemed capable of finishing without her.

Hoisting and hipping the basket of wet clothes, Faith went out the back door and across the yard to the already partly full clothesline at the rear of their lot. Still singing gaily, she hung the clothes one piece at a time to dry under the hot Alabama sun.

The world was a wonderful place to live. Faith felt it in every nerve of her being. Boyd had been so considerate of her, so loving and tender. Like a queen – that's how he'd made her feel. Breakfast in bed, then taking her part when Dad gave her a bad time at supper. And last night – wow! The way Boyd had made love to her so passionately, so long and drawn out! On the couch in the den, ignoring his favorite TV programs and bringing her to orgasm after orgasm before he would allow himself any pleasure at all. Lazing about in love's afterglow, they had never felt closer.

It was the same this morning. She'd made breakfast and it was eaten at the table, but the closeness was still between them, the feeling of oneness, of fusion one with the other. It was like their honeymoon all over again, only better. The memory of Dirk and Saturday night was like a long-ago nightmare, pushed so far back in her mind that it had a feeling of unreality about it. It was as though it had never actually happened.

Faith was hanging the last piece of wash when she felt eyes on her back. She put the last clothespin in place before turning toward the woman opening her gate. It was Lucia. A sense of apprehension flooded over Faith. She didn't want to see Lucia, wouldn't know what to say to her under the circumstances. For an uncomfortable moment she considered fleeing out the back gate and running down the alley.

Then it was too late. Lucia called a friendly hello and waved as she came toward her. Hesitantly Faith returned the smile. She picked up her empty basket and went toward the house. They met midway in the back yard. Embarrassedly, Faith invited Lucia in for coffee.

Not a word about Saturday night. Lucia rattled on and on about one thing after another, never once mentioning the degrading scene that ended the patio barbecue. It was disarming to Faith. Lucia acted so natural, so friendly, as if nothing at all had happened.

When the coffee cups became empty, Lucia took them over to the pot and refilled them, chatting all the while about the week-long mission that Dirk and his flight crew had left on from the Air Force base that morning. Lucia admitted that she envied Dirk and his career. It wasn't that she minded him being away from home when he had to fly. Not at all. She was jealous, she confided. Secretly she longed to be a pilot, a colonel like Dirk. He got all the fun – going to so many different places, ordering those men under him about, feeling the awesome power of those monstrous jet engines and knowing that he controlled such a force completely, had it right at his fingertips.

An intense expression came over Lucia's face as she talked about the power of the big bomber that Dirk flew. She saw it as an extension of her husband himself, and readily admitted that she would gladly change places with him, if it were only possible.

The look in Lucia's eyes unnerved Faith. She awkwardly and abruptly switched the conversation to another subject, a more feminine topic. Occasionally she thought of bringing up Saturday night. She wanted to talk about it, yet she didn't want to. Things were going so smoothly. Lucia seemed not to remember it. Boyd had told her to forget it, and gave every indication that he had forgotten it himself. Yet it troubled Faith. Seeing Lucia had brought it back into her mind.

After awhile Lucia stood up and announced that she had to go out to the commissary. She invited Faith along. After Lucia told her how much cheaper groceries and cigarettes were at the base, Faith gladly accepted. It was a chance to save money, and Faith prided herself on her thrifty nature. Had she known that it was illegal for a civilian to shop at a military commissary, she would not have gone. In her naiveness, however, Faith quickly changed out of her housedress and wrote a quick note for Boyd in case he should come home unexpectedly for lunch, then tucked her purse under her arm and went with Lucia.

The air policeman at the base gate snapped to attention when he saw Lucia's red Volkswagen coming at him. He motioned the car on through the gate without stopping them, then brought his hand up in a salute as they came nearer. As he recognized Lucia, he smiled broadly and winked, still holding the salute. Smiling back at the tall, handsome airman, Lucia threw him a kiss as the car swept past and into the base.

"They sure are friendly," commented Faith.

"They aren't all that friendly," Lucia chuckled. "That one's a doll, though."

"He is good-looking. Is he a friend of yours and Dirks?"

"Just mine. Dirk doesn't know him."

"Oh."

"No, no, baby. Not like that. He teaches karate to a group of us wives one afternoon a week."

"Oh," Faith said again, relief telling in her voice this time.

Lucia drove slower now that they were on the base. Finally she pulled into a parking lot and nosed the bug into a slot. "Come on," she said, getting out of the car.

As soon as they were inside the building, Faith knew it couldn't be the commissary. It was dark and music was playing on a jukebox. It was a cocktail lounge!

"What's the matter, baby?"