Chapter Twenty-eight
At about six P.M., Keith was in the living room, reading and drinking his Burgundy, which was at room temperature now. He'd found a box of his old college books in the attic and had chosen Edith Wharton's Ethan Frame. He'd enjoyed Wharton in college, as well as other American writers from that period, including Henry James, Theodore Dreiser, and Ohio's native son, Sherwood Anderson. He suspected, however, that no one read these people any longer. He made a mental note to ask the Porters if Anderson was still required reading at Antioch.
His reading since college had been mostly current affairs and political nonfiction, the sort of stuff that appeared on the Washington Post bestseller list and probably nowhere else. He looked forward to spending the next twenty-five years reading things that had no immediate relevance whatsoever.
He had the radio tuned to a Toledo station that played oldies, and Van Morrison had just finished "Brown Eyed Girl," which he liked, and Percy Sledge was now crooning "When a Man Loves a Woman," which Keith considered one of his favorite songs to make love by.
It was dusk, made darker by the rolling clouds, and he saw the headlights of a vehicle turn into his driveway before he saw the car. A few seconds later, he heard the tires on the gravel.
He put down his book, shut off the radio, and looked out the window. A white Lincoln passed by the house and went around to the side.
Keith went into the kitchen and out the back door as the Lincoln came to a stop. The driver's-side door opened, and Annie got out, wearing a white turtleneck, brown tweed skirt, and matching jacket. With her was an energetic gray mongrel who jumped out of the car and began running around the yard.
Keith and Annie stood a few feet apart, and she smiled. "You made me lose my place in the hymnal."
He said, "You looked and sounded like an angel."
"Some angel. You should know what I was thinking up there. I must have turned as red as my robe."
He walked over to her, and they kissed, not passionately, but tentatively, neither knowing where this was going.
She said, "My Aunt Harriet says you send me your regards."
"I do. I like her. I want you to send her a postcard from Rome."
Annie didn't respond to that directly but said, "She told me she had Sunday dinner with you at your aunt's. She went on about what a handsome, cultured man you were." Annie added, "She even used the word sexy."
"My goodness. I'll send her a postcard from Rome."
She wasn't smiling, Keith saw, and looked as though she had a lot on her mind.
Keith happened to notice a blue and white bumper sticker on her car that read, "Support Your Local Police."
She saw where he was looking and said, "You want one? I have extras."
"Let me think about it."
She smiled, then frowned. "I don't have much choice."
"I know that."
There were a few seconds of silence again, then Keith asked the obvious, unromantic question. "Where is your husband?"
"He's still at the lodge on Grey Lake. He called yesterday afternoon and said he was staying overnight. He'll be back around midnight, he said." She added, "He doesn't give me much notice. He probably knew he was staying over."
Keith nodded to himself, recalling Baxter's note to him indicating he'd be coming around on Monday. Keith asked, "And are you sure you weren't followed?"
"I didn't see any police cars, city or county, and I know the unmarked cars. Anyway, I'm leaving in a few minutes, and we can stand here behind the house."
"Okay." He asked, "Should I explain about Washington?"
"No. No need." She said, "I heard about the hurricane on the car radio after I left Terry's. I just got myself upset, then I was going to come back, but I thought Cliff would be home, and I figured you and I needed a running start." She added, "Then he calls and says he's staying over. I could have killed him... I cried myself to sleep last night, thinking about you and what could have happened yesterday."
"It's not too late."
She looked at him a moment, then said, "My sister told me you're leaving tomorrow."
"You asked me to leave."
"Oh, and you do what I ask you to do? Since when?"
He smiled. "I used to do about half the things you asked me to do. That's not bad."
"Depends on which half."
"You're tough."
"No, I'm a pushover. That's my problem."
"I know a good assertiveness-training course for women in Washington. Every woman I knew in D.C. took it. I'll get you a brochure."
"Poor Keith. Did they give you a hard time?"
"Are we having a fight?"
"Not yet." She stayed silent a moment, then said, "Okay, I do want to know about Washington."
"All right. On Thursday, my old boss, Charlie Adair, came here — right here to the farm — and informed me that my former employers wanted me back. I said, 'No, I'm madly in love with the girl next door.' He said, 'Fine, bring her along.' I explained about your small-minded husband not letting you travel with former lovers..."
She suppressed a smile and said, "So this was business?"
"Yes. What did you think it was? A Washington holiday before my elopement to Washington?"
"I didn't know what... well... you know... I just got myself..." She looked at him. "It had nothing to do with a woman?"
"Oh... I see... no, it didn't. Do we have a jealous streak?"
"You know I do. But only with you."
"Well, all the more reason for me to turn down this job, then. They wanted me to fly around the world seducing female heads of state."
"Don't tease. I was a wreck. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never felt like this... well, once. I used to be insanely in love with this guy years ago."
"Was he faithful?"
"Faithful as a puppy."
"Was he good in bed?"
"Best lay in Ohio."
"Who dumped who?"
"We'll never really know."
"That's a sad story."
She nodded, then looked at him. "So the government wants you back?"
"They do, and I had to go there in person to say no..."
"Keith, if you want to go back to Washington, don't let me stand in your way..."
"I don't want..."
"Listen. You can go back, and if we decide to be together, if you want me there and if I want to come, then I'll come to Washington."
"You wouldn't like it. Believe me."
"I might."
"Annie, if I'm asking you to leave your world, then I have to leave mine. I have no regrets, and I hope you won't, either."
"No, Keith, you listen to me — this was your world here, and it could have been again. But you can't stay here because of me, and I won't be responsible for you not going back to Washington."
"Are we both through being noble? Good. Let's be selfish, because I think we both want the same thing."
"Maybe. I have to go."
"Where are you supposed to be?"
"Nowhere. He could be home anytime. He does that. Whenever he bothers to tell me when he'll be home, he always shows up a few hours earlier, like he expects to find me in bed with the milkman or something."
"How about a farmer? Let's go to your house and give him something to get annoyed about."
Again she suppressed a smile, then said, "I just stopped by to see you before you left, and I wanted you to meet Denise."
"Who?"
She called out to the dog, who came running, licked Annie's hand, then sniffed at Keith and put her paws on his knee. Keith knelt down and played with the dog, who was friendly and who looked like a wire-haired terrier.