For All Their Lives (48 page)

She continued to laugh as she stepped over and around them while she straightened the kitchen, fluffed the pillows, and prepared the coffeepot for Luke's arrival. As soon as he called, she was going to brave the rain again and run to the supermarket and liquor store for food and wine. Beer too. Hopefully, she would have time for a quick shower.

Hating to tie up the phone, Casey placed a call to the studio and asked for Steve Harper. When his voice boomed on the wire, she lied and said she was sick and would be out for a few days.

“You sound terrible,” Steve said, which made her
feel
terrible. “Stay in bed and drink lots of juice, and whatever you do, don't go out in this rain. It's supposed to be like this for the next few days. April showers ten days ahead of schedule. We'll make do around here. Izzy is going to miss you.” Sam took that moment to yip at her feet. “Is that a dog I hear? You didn't tell me you had a dog,” he said in an injured tone.

“I have a cat too. Sam and Gracie. You never asked me, Steve.”

“Yeah, I know. I meant to ask you to dinner too, but I didn't. We'll do dinner when you're feeling better. Take care of yourself. If you need anything, give me a call.” She promised she would.

When the phone rang twenty minutes later, Sam leaped into Casey's arms. Gracie arched her back and circled Casey's feet. She whispered soft words as she picked up the phone to say hello.

“Meet me at Kennedy, three-ten. I'll be the guy with the stupid grin, and I'd know you anywhere. Gotta run.” Casey stared at the phone. He'd never recognize her, not in a hundred years. She smiled. It might be fun to fool him.

Casey smiled all the way to the supermarket and was still smiling while she showered and applied her special makeup. “Oh, Luke, it's going to be so good to see you.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. She refused to allow them to drop below her lashes. She'd cried enough. There would be no more tears. Unless, of course, both she and Luke wanted to cry on one another's shoulders.

It was hard to pick the right outfit. She wanted to look special for Luke, so she finally chose a soft white wool skirt and a periwinkle-blue sweater. She brushed her hair till it shimmered, adding small pearls to her ears for the final touch.

She spent another full ten minutes instructing her new roommates on apartment living. She explained that things were tidy and she liked them that way. She led them to the pantry to show them the litter box again and the thick wad of paper strategically placed.

“It might be a good idea if you took a nap now until I get back.” Two sets of eyes stared at her. The Yorkie yipped, the cat purred. She tickled their bellies one last time before she let herself out of the apartment. She could hear them scratching at the door as she walked down the hall to the elevator. Luke was going to like Sam and Gracie. Oh, they had so much to talk about. She could hardly wait to see her old friend.

Casey almost ran down the concourse. Only ten more minutes. The monitor said his plane was on time. She had it all planned. She would be waiting right at his gate but wouldn't say anything until he walked past her. Then she would call him by name, he would turn, gasp, and then they would hug each other.

He looks the same, she thought giddily as she watched the tall doctor shoulder his way through the slow-moving passengers. His eyes were searching for her, that much she could see. They locked with hers before they moved on. She smiled and let him get a little ahead of her before she called his name. He whirled, his eyes searching for the voice and a familiar face. He stared at her again. “Luke,” she said softly.

“Casey?” His face crumpled into something that was supposed to be a smile. His tears matched her own.

“Don't make me cry, please. If you do, this special makeup will rub off and my scars will be visible,” she whispered.

“Who gives a damn,” he said, crushing her to him. “I'm just so glad you're alive, Casey. So very glad.” He buried his face in her hair, hugging her so tight that she squealed.

“Jeez, I'm sorry. Come on, let's get out of here. I only brought this carry-on bag. How'd you get here?”

“Taxi,” Casey mumbled. “I own a car, but I don't know how to drive.”

“That figures. Who wants to drive in this crazy town anyway,” he said, linking his arm with hers.

“Luke, thank you for coming. I can't tell you what it means to me to have you here. I've missed you, everyone . . .”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke said softly.

 

“N
ICE DIGS
,” L
UKE
said as he entered Casey's apartment. “Sure is quiet. I always leave the television or radio on. I like noise,” he said flatly. “Oh,
my
God!”

There was no way to describe the living room except to say it was a total disaster. The rainbow-colored pillows were torn and shredded with colorful strips of fabric dotting the floor and the backs of the sofa and chairs. The plants were upended, bits of greenery were strewn about, and dirt was everywhere. In the hallway, in the bedroom, bits and pieces of toilet tissue littered the floor. For a moment Casey was reminded of Vietnam. One look told her that Luke had the same feeling. She reached out to clutch at his arm, which felt tight as a ripcord.

“Guess this will teach you not to unroll the toilet paper,” Luke said in a choked voice. “Reminds me of those pamphlets the VC used to drop.”

“Where
are
they?” Casey groaned, glancing around for the puppy and the kitten.

“Probably worn-out with all the work they did.” He was his old self again, Casey thought in relief. She felt better too. It was just that one intense bad moment. She motioned for Luke to follow her as she searched out her new roommates. When she finally found them, she had to clap her hand over her mouth so she wouldn't laugh. The Yorkie was curled comfortably in one well-worn slipper, the kitten in the other. Both were sound asleep. Luke, Casey noticed, was grinning broadly.

“At least you were smart enough to go out and get pets. I meant to do it, wanted to do it, but never got around to it.”

“I just did it today when . . . when I couldn't handle it anymore,” Casey said quietly. “You can still do it. It's the silence and the quietness I can't adjust to. Like you, I need noise. We need to talk about this, Luke.”

“I'm ready. Actually, I've been ready for a long time, but it had to be with the right person. No one understands. Sometimes I don't understand either. Unless you were there . . .” He left the rest of what he was going to say hanging in the air. Instead he started to clean the litter.

“Listen, why don't you start that dinner you said you were going to cook for me, and I'll make a stab at cleaning up this mess.”

It was seven o‘clock when Casey slid the steaks from under the broiler and onto heated dinner plates. They toasted each other with their first glass of wine, and then they talked. They were still talking when the clock in the kitchen said it was midnight. At three o'clock they adjourned to the living room, where they settled themselves on the floor. As the first streaks of dawn crept up over the windowsill, Luke's expression became distant. “Rick crashed and burned a few weeks before I rotated back to the States. I think of that guy every day. I tell myself he couldn't make it back here. Flying dead and wounded was all he knew how to do. I heard scuttlebutt that he was going to be forced to come back home. I wonder if he—”

“Shhh,” Casey said, placing her finger on his lips. “Don't even think it.”

Luke started to shake. Casey put her arms around him. “It was so damn . . . it was the heavy rains . . . that chopper. . .”

“Was put together with spit, glue, and Silly Putty. He made the choice, Luke. It's okay to cry.” She sobbed. “I think that's half our problem. We didn't get a chance to grieve. We had no one to grieve with. Now, we have each other. Am I right?” Casey asked in a choked voice. Luke continued to shake. She held him tight, bringing him as close to her as she could. She stroked his head, he stroked hers. She kissed his wet cheek, he kissed hers. They touched and whispered between sobs of anger and frustration. Together they punched and gouged the ruined pillows until they fell against one another, exhausted.

Casey's lips trembled as she leaned down to kiss Luke on the lips, her arms cradling his head against her chest. It was a sweet kiss, full of sadness and relief. Moments later she whispered, “No, no, I don't want you to see . . . I have so many scars. Please, don't look at me. I can't bear it. Oh yes, yes, I do want you, but my body is so ugly, I can't bear it, Luke.”

“Shhh, it makes no difference. How can you even think . . . don't cry, please don't cry. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. Shhh, don't cry, Casey, please. It's all right for me to love you, and I do. I can accept anything as long as I know you're alive and well.” Casey cried harder, her sobs muffled against his chest. He kissed away the tears and tasted his own on her lips.

“I want to make love to you,” Luke whispered hoarsely.

“Oh yes, Luke, yes, yes,” she whispered against his cheek.

The gray day with the driving rain against the windowpanes turned to night. Only the rustling of their bodies against the remains of the rainbow-colored cushions, and the soft sound of their murmuring, broke the silence. She nestled against him, burrowing her head into the hollow of his neck, the silky strands of her pale blond hair falling over his shoulder. She breathed the scent of him, mingled with the fragrance of her own perfume. Her fingers teased the light fur of his chest hair. Her leg, thrown intimately over his, felt the lean, sinewy muscles of his thigh.

They were like light and shadow—she silver, the color of moonlight, and he dark, like the night. He held her, his gentle hands soothing her, promising silently all the things lovers promise.

One moment his arms cradled her, the next they became her prison—hard, strong, inescapable. She felt the wildness and loved him for it. She felt a sense of power to know she could arouse these instincts in him. She yielded to his need for her, welcoming his weight upon her, flexing her thighs to bring him closer.

His hands were in her hair, on her breasts, on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. He stirred her, demanded of her, rewarded her with the adoring attention of his lips to those territories he wished to claim. And when he possessed her, it was with a joyful abandon that evoked a like response in her: hard, fast, then becoming slower and sweeter.

She murmured with pleasure and gave him caresses he loved. Release was there, within their grasp, but like two moths romancing a flame, they played in the heat and postponed that exquisite instant when they would plunge into the inferno.

He held her then, soothing her back down from erotic heights.

It was the best of all times, this moment after lovemaking, when all barriers were down and satiny skin melted into masculine hardness. This closeness, Casey thought, was the true communion of lovers who had brought peace and satisfaction to one another.

Casey burrowed deeper into the nest of Luke's arms. He drew her closer and she smiled. She didn't want the moment to end. This man who came to her out of nowhere when she needed him the most. Right now, this very second, if he asked her to die for him, she would. He seemed good for her in every way, understanding her, accepting her, even to the scars she would carry for the rest of her life.

“Do you want to talk about Mac now?” Luke asked quietly.

“He betrayed me, Luke, he lied to me,” she said quietly. “There's no need to talk about Mac, not now, not ever. There's no place in my life for Mac, and there isn't a place for me in his. Let's leave it at that and not spoil what we have.”

“You're the boss,” Luke said lightly. He recoiled a moment later in mock horror when two fur balls pounced on the mound of pillows.

Casey thought she'd never been happier than in that moment as she watched Luke tussle with the Yorkie and the tiger cat. The animals loved his long arms as he gently pushed and shoved them, trying to teach them to roll over. “Treats for everyone,” he shouted boyishly as he walked naked back to the kitchen for cookies. Casey watched him and wondered if she had the nerve to stand up, to expose her nakedness and her scars to this man who had just made love to her. She made her decision the moment Luke walked back into the living room, the prancing puppy and kitten trailing behind him. She stood up, a look of panic on her face. He smiled.

“They don't matter,” he said gently. “Haven't you learned anything from me?”

“More than you'll ever know. Last one in the shower stinks!” she called gaily.

They scrubbed and soaked one another, touching and kissing under the pelting water, but they didn't make love. “Later,” Luke said against her cheek. “Later, we'll do it like normal people, in a bed with covers where I don't freeze my ass off. Don't you have any heat in this goddamn apartment?”

“It was cold out there, wasn't it?” Casey giggled.

“Damn right.” He pushed her gently out of the shower. “Get dressed and make breakfast. And feed those animals before they tear this place apart again.”

When the bathroom door closed, Luke leaned against the shower wall, the steam and driving spray covering him like a dense gray fog. He took great, heaving gulps of steamy air into his lungs as he cringed against the wall. She'd said scars. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the ravages of her young body. He could have killed for what was done to her, but anger was useless now. He'd learned that the hard way.

Luke stepped out of the shower into the steamy bathroom. He'd found her again. How was he going to walk away, go back to his empty life in Pennsylvania? Their lovemaking had been a spontaneous thing that grew out of their need to draw something from each other. Now, what was he supposed to do? Stick around and . . . what? Go back and . . . what? Was this a “fling” for both of them? He'd heard his sister use the word once. He didn't like the sound of it. It didn't have any notion of permanence in it. Another day. He'd stay another day, maybe two. They still had a lot of talking to do. He wanted to tell her about the support group he started in Pittsburgh and suggest that she start one here in New York. He'd offer to help.