"All right. I promise."
"I love you." She leaned forward and kissed him.
He stood and said, "Let me walk you back."
"Let's walk in the stream."
"Okay." He pulled off his shoes and socks and left them on the bank, rolled up his jeans, and slung his rifle over his shoulder while she gathered up her panty hose and shoes.
They walked down the stream toward the pond, hand in hand. She said, "I need a week to get my affairs in order. Is that too long?"
"Not after twenty-five years."
She squeezed his hand. "Where will we go?"
"Do you have a passport?"
"No. But I can apply for one."
"Not at this post office, you can't."
"No, I can't. I'll go up to Toledo."
"We'll go to Washington first. Bring all your personal papers."
"Okay. I've never been to Washington."
"What city did you like best in Europe?"
"Rome."
"Rome it is."
"Are you serious?"
"If you are, I am."
She thought a moment, then said, "I am."
He glanced at her and asked, "Do you understand what it means to leave home?"
"No, but if I'm with you, I'm home. How's that for lovesick?"
"I know the feeling. But have you thought about what it's like to miss your children, your family, and community?"
"Yes. I've thought about that. But it's time I did something that Annie Prentis wants to do."
"And your job? Do you still manage the hospital thrift store?"
"Yes, and I like it, but it's hardly challenging." She added, "It's a husband-approved job. No men, no money, no weekends, flexible hours, and down the street from his office."
Keith nodded. "I saw it when I was downtown."
"Would you mind if I worked?"
"You can do whatever you want."
"Can I work long hours in an office, bring work home on weekends, and go on business trips with men?"
"Don't push it, Prentis."
She smiled and squeezed his hand.
They continued through the ankle-deep stream, picking their way around the stones, and Keith liked the feel of the silt on his bare feet and her hand in his.
Annie said, "Maybe someday we can return to visit."
"Maybe."
"And how about you, Keith? This is your home, too. Did you want to stay?"
"I did, but I knew I couldn't. But maybe someday."
She thought awhile, then said, "If... he wasn't here..."
"What would he do if he got sacked?"
She replied, "He wouldn't stay. He couldn't. He'd be humiliated. And too many people secretly hate him." She thought a moment, then said, "You know, if Mrs. Baxter runs off with another man, he may actually be embarrassed enough to resign and leave town. Then we can return if we want to."
Keith nodded, then asked her, "Where would he go?"
"Grey Lake. In fact, that's where he said we were going if and when he retires." She smiled. "That may be sooner than he thinks. Only, he'll be going alone. He knows he can't stay in Spencerville as the ex-chief of police."
"You mean there'd be no more testimonial dinners at the Elks Lodge?"
She glanced at him, then said, "I guess you read about that in the papers. God, that was one of the worst nights of my life." When he didn't respond, she said, "Did that make you jealous?"
"I had some unhealthy emotion or another. Couldn't figure out what it was."
"Well, sweetheart, I thought about you all that night and wondered what you were doing on a Saturday night. Do you know how many Saturday nights I wondered where you were after we first separated?"
"I was having fun in basic infantry training." He added, "I stood in long pay phone lines on Saturday nights to call you. You weren't in."
"I sure was. But I wasn't going to answer it." She added, "Pride and stubbornness are sins, and we paid for them."
"We did."
"Jealousy is also a sin. I'm not jealous, but... you know I called you from the Elks Lodge. I just wanted to hear your voice that night. But you weren't in."
"I went to the high school and shot some baskets, then got home around nine, took a very cold shower, and went to bed."
"Good. Did you dream about me?"
"Probably. I know that the first thing on my mind every morning is you."
"Me, too."
They got to the edge of the trees where the stream widened and flowed into the big pond. They climbed the bank and looked out over the grassland and water. There were other cars parked near Annie's now, and a few bicycles lay in the tall grass.
Keith watched a few kids floating on a big rubber raft and saw two older men fishing. Two mothers with toddlers were playing with toy boats at the water's edge.
It was a placid pond with a mirrored surface, but now and then a small fish broke the water, sending out concentric ripples. Dragonflies hovered over the water and cattails swayed in the breeze. There was a clump of pond lilies near the shore whose sweet roots could be cooked and eaten, and Keith wondered if kids knew about that anymore.
Reeves Pond didn't look much different than Keith remembered it on any warm Saturday thirty years before, except that there used to be a lot more kids; the organized-activity generation, maybe the last of the Huckleberry Finn-type kids who cooked lily root and chewed smartweed, and fished with bamboo poles and used old inner tubes for floats, and annoyed small animals and adults with slingshots, and got around on iron bikes that weighed more than they did.
Annie asked, "What are you smiling about?"
"I was just remembering that the guys used to skinny-dip here on hot summer nights. We smoked cigarettes, drank beer, and talked about girls."
"I know. We used to lie in the high grass up there and watch."
"You did not."
She laughed. "We did. Twice. We couldn't see too much, but we all said we did."
"Why didn't you join us?"
"We probably should have. One night we were going to steal your clothes, but we got chicken."
"Well, I'll tell you what some summer night you and I will come back here and go skinny-dipping."
"It's a date."
They stood quietly awhile, not wanting this time to end. She said, "This is probably the last weekend of warm weather."
"Yes, I can smell a touch of autumn."
"Me, too."
They watched the people around the pond, then Keith said, "You know Pastor Wilkes at St. James, don't you?"
"Yes."
"I spoke to him the night of the meeting at St. James."
"How is he?"
"Old, But still in there pitching."
"What's he pitching?"
"Sliders and curves."
"Meaning?"
"He advised me not to covet my neighbor's wife."
"Did he? Well, if he means Mrs. Jenkins or Mrs. Muller, that's very good advice. But I guess he was referring to me. How embarrassing."
"He likes you. He didn't seem to be judgmental toward me, but he advised me to wait until you get a divorce. Then I can covet."
"He really said that?"
"He did. He's an old romantic underneath it all."
She thought about this, then said, "I didn't think you'd go to anyone, not even a pastor, for advice."
"As a matter of fact, I didn't. He broached the subject."
"You mean he knew about... how would he know?.."
"From your pastor, the Reverend Schenk. I'm only telling you this in case you thought about going to Pastor Schenk for advice or absolution, or something."
"I... I have discussed my marriage with him." She hesitated, then said, "To be honest, I spoke to him about you."
"Did you? Did you tell him you had sexual fantasies about me?"
"Certainly not." She laughed. "Not in so many words."
"Well, if you speak to him again, he'll tell you what Wilkes told me get a divorce and, meantime, do not commit adultery."
"A little late for that."
"Also, these things do get around."
She nodded. "I'm friends with Pastor Schenk's wife, Marge... what else did Pastor Wilkes tell you?"
"I can't say, but with all their good intentions, they know too much."