“I studied in Madrid most of the time. It’s so lovely there, even though it’s not Spain. You have to go out in the country to see Spain. I went to some of the small villages to paint. The people are terribly poor, but they’re friendly and simple and they like Americans. I got some wonderful sketches in Granada and Sevilla. The old Moorish buildings are like lacework, and the cafés and parks are splendid.”
She sat down on the sofa beside him. The wind was cool through the open door. She ran her fingers over the stem of the wineglass.
“Would you like to go out?” he said.
“Let’s stay here.”
“Won’t your roommate be home?”
“She has a date with some graduate student from Tulane.”
He could feel it growing inside him. He wanted to hold it back but he knew he wouldn’t be able. He looked at her fingers on the wineglass. She set the glass on the table and put her hands in her lap. She crossed her legs and the edge of her slip showed at the knee. He watched her hand curve around the wine bottle as she picked it up to pour in his glass. He leaned over and kissed her. She put her palm lightly on the back of his neck. He could smell the slight scent of perfume in her hair. She turned her face up and he kissed her again. He couldn’t stop it now. He tried to pull her down on the sofa. She pressed one hand against his chest.
“You knew it would be like this when I came over,” he said. He still held her.
“You can’t drop something for three years and then pick it up again just like that.”
“You want it as much as I do.”
“Yes. But we can’t. Please, Avery.”
“It’s all right.”
“No. Please.”
He kissed her and held himself close to her and ran his hand along her thighs. He heard her breathing increase.
“You’ll hurt both of us,” she said. “You must know that. We’ll both feel bad about it when it’s over.” Her eyes were wet. She relaxed and didn’t try to push him away anymore. He put his hand inside her blouse and felt her breasts. He unbuttoned the blouse and tried to pull it back off her shoulders. “Let me up. We can’t do it here,” she said.
He had to wait a moment in order not to embarrass himself before he could stand up and follow her into the bedroom. His shirt stuck to his back with perspiration. She drew the curtains on the window and undressed and lay on the bed with her hair spread out on the pillow. Her skin was white and her waist was slender and she wore the gold cross and chain around her throat, and when he looked at her he felt something drop inside him. He lay beside her and kissed her. She reminded him of how she had looked the night they had the argument in Biloxi.
“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he said.
She put her arms around his neck and held her cheek to his.
“I always loved you. I was never as happy as when I was with you,” she said.
“You’re a swell girl.”
“Do it to me. I want you so badly.”
“You won’t cry anymore?”
“No. I promise. It was just because I didn’t want everything to turn out bad again. Oh, Avery.”
“Does it hurt you?”
“It’s lovely. I’d forgotten how good it is. Do you still like me?”
“You’re wonderful. Was there anyone between?” he said.
“No.”
“You’re my lady.”
“I was always your lady.”
“My darling lady.”
She kissed him hard on the mouth and he felt her body tense as her arms tightened around his back.
“Hold me. Do it harder. Oh Avery darling hurt me please hurt me. It’s so good. My lovely sweet darling hold me. I love you terribly.”
They lay in bed and drank wine and smoked cigarettes. He pulled her to him and kissed her on the cheek and bit the lobe of her ear. The back of her neck was damp. She held herself close to him and put her forehead under his chin.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” she said.
“You don’t feel bad about it?”
“Of course not. Do it to me once more.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“I could never be tired of this.”
“Your roommate might come home.”
“We have time. Let me do it to you. We’ve never done it like this. I want to do it every way we can.”
She changed her position. He looked up at the gold cross swinging from her throat and her hair on her shoulders.
“Am I good like this?” she said.
“It’s fine.”
“I want to always make it good for you.”
“You’re nice inside,” he said.
“You’re being bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I want you to be bad. I want you to say bad things.”
“I like your thighs,” he said.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Very much?” she said.
“I love your thighs.”
“Now you are treating me bad.”
“I do love you.”
He pulled her down on him and felt the softness of her breasts against him and rubbed his hands over her back and down the insides of her legs. She propped herself on her arms again and smiled down at him, and he looked at the whiteness of her breasts and the curve of her neck and her dark Creole eyes and then he held her very tightly and he felt his loins grow warm and then hot and everything went out and away from him. She leaned down and kissed him and then lay beside him and put her arm across his chest. He felt empty and cool inside, breathing her perfume and the smell of her hair, and he didn’t want to move or get up or even talk.
“We’ll have to get dressed, darling,” she said later. “I’m sorry.”
“Let’s go to a hotel.”
“It’s too late. You have to work tomorrow.”
“Lock your roommate out,” he said.
“You’re unkind.”
“Your roommate is unkind.”
“We’ll go to a hotel tomorrow evening and stay together all night.”
“Do you promise?” he said.
“We can get some good wine and you can drink and I’ll take care of you.”
“You’re my wonderful lady.”
“I’ll always be your lady.”
They dressed and she made up the bed and combed her hair. She took the two glasses and the wine bottle into the dining room and put them on the table.
“Good night,” he said.
“Good night. I love you.”
“You’re very pretty.”
“Come over as soon as you get off from work,” she said.
“Will you keep your promise?”
“Yes. Kiss me good night.”
“Pretty lady.”
“Good night,” she said.
“Good night.”
He met her at the apartment the next evening, and they had dinner at a small French restaurant on Burgundy Street that had red-checkered cloths on the tables, and they sat at the bar and ate oysters on the half shell and drank beer, and the Negro waiter opened the oysters with a knife and squeezed a lemon on the muscle and if it didn’t twitch he threw it away and opened another. They bought a bottle of Liebfraumilch from a package store and they stayed in a hotel outside the Vieux Carré and she was there beside him whenever he wanted her. They finally went to sleep after midnight, and he awoke later and felt it grow in him again. Her body was cool from the breeze through the window and her legs were long and white. They lay undressed on top of the sheets with the green wine bottle in an ice bucket by the side of the bed, and when the sky turned dark blue just before morning he didn’t want to see the sun come up and the night to end.
The following afternoon he had to check in with the parole board, and afterwards they went to the beach and rented a cabana under some palm trees. They watched the waves roll up on the sand and the crimson sun going down beyond the water’s edge and a single sailboat with a red sail tacking in the wind. They brought their bathing suits and dressed inside the canvas cabana, and after dark they went swimming in the surf. The moon reflected off the water and the palm trees hissed in the breeze. In the distance they could see the glow of the city. She ran through the breakers and swam out quite far from shore and then swam back and knelt in the shallows, sitting on her heels, laughing and panting for breath, with the small waves breaking around her waist. They went back to the cabana and lay down in the sand. He kissed her on the mouth and smelled the salt in her hair. The moonlight came through the open flap of the cabana and shone on her ankles, and he wanted to do it right there but there were other people farther down the beach.