Authors: Again the Magic
Still sitting in the curve of his arm, facing him with her legs curled up under her, she fixed her eyes on her hands as they abstractedly toyed with the top buttons on his shirt while she tried to pull together her drifting thoughts. Her mind felt sluggish, as if it were resisting her efforts to delve into its deepest recesses and uncover its hidden fears. She groped for the words to explain an apprehension that, in this day and age, should not even exist. Theoretically, she knew it was stupid. But in her experience—and that was the problem. It was her experience that had thrown her back into this state of primitive, visceral, female fear of—
"He's much bigger than Leon." It was a thready whisper.
Ez waited a moment to see if she were going to add anything. He brought his big hand down from her neck to clasp and still her agitated fingers, watching the gilded lashes come down to hide her eyes, while he interpreted her slightly ambiguous statement. Nibbling on his lower lip, he rapidly considered his options. It was obvious that this was no time for either clinical discussions or locker-room terminology. Plain speaking was going to sound too insensitive to her in her overwrought state. It was a time for indirection and a very, very careful choice of terms.
"O'Mara?" She nodded, and he said, faintly questioning, "I take it we're not talking about height or muscular development?"
"No." It was still a whisper, but perhaps a bit stronger. "It... he... Leon wasn't entirely... in proportion. I mean, for such a big man he was... uh... not as big as you might expect... or as he wanted to be, but he said...."
He saw her lashes flicker and felt the clenching of her fingers within his clasp. Soft-voiced, he helped her out, phrasing his questions carefully. "Are you saying that he was... built on the small side where it usually counts with a man?" She nodded. "And that seemed to bother him?" Another nod. "And he said that it's not how much you've got that counts but how you use it?"
Her head came up, her eyes opening wide in surprise. "How did you know?"
The corners of his mouth twitched as he answered, "It's a typical boast of an insecure male. As an educated guess, I'd say that sometime in his early years, perhaps in his first attempt at a sexual experience, a girl laughed at him or ridiculed him, which could have made him so self-conscious that he fumbled his next attempts and gained some more negative comments. Add to that some of the crude teasing that goes on in locker rooms, and you've got all the ingredients for turning a basically insecure adolescent boy into an insecure man with a highly developed, but well hidden, sense of sexual inadequacy and a desire to 'get even' with all those girls who laughed at him."
"Why me? I never laughed at him."
"You were the prize, a woman whom all his friends admired and liked. He scored points by winning you. But then he made damn sure you would never have any desire to laugh at him. That's probably only part of the story. It would have taken a psychiatrist to dig out all the causes and effects. It's no good raking over the ashes now. You were originally making some point about O'Mara."
She dropped her eyes to study his chin, murmuring, "He's... bigger. Much."
"Well... it's been some years since I've seen him stripped. Not since the last time a gang of us went for a midnight swim at Crofts Pond. Remember it?"
"Sure. You guys always chased all the girls away so you could go skinny dipping. What about it?"
"Just that, as I recall, O'Mara was pretty much built to scale—all over—and since he was already twenty-two at the time, I don't imagine he's changed."
"No." She looked at him uncertainly. "If...."
"Say it," he coaxed softly. "I can't answer you until you ask me the question."
She stiffened her back, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let the words tumble out. "If Leon was so small and he hurt me so badly, how can O'Mara help but hurt me even more since he's much larger even if he's as careful as he can be because I must be small too or Leon wouldn't have hurt so much and it won't do any good to be sure I'm ready if—"
"Whoa, Kitt. All right, I've got the question."
"Yeah. But do you have an answer?"
"Oh, yes," he said thoughtfully. He shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, but still facing her, and took her hands in a firm clasp with both of his.
"Out of idle curiosity, Sis, if this size business has been bothering you, why didn't you ask your doctor about it on one of those annual checkups you have?"
"It wasn't. Before, I mean. I never thought about it until... until O'Mara... I took him by surprise a couple of times. Oh, that sounds... what I mean is that I got carried away and... sort of pressed up against him when he wasn't expecting it and... he reacted. Just for a minute, and then he moved us apart before I panicked or anything. But for those few seconds I could... feel him against me... you know?... and I... Well, later, when I was remembering how he felt, I realized suddenly that he was much bigger than Leon, and then I... remembered some basic biology and things I'd heard some of the girls in the dorm back in college joking about and...." Her voice trailed off and she looked at him hopefully. "So what do we do?"
"You
stop worrying, for one thing." Ez smiled at her, shaking his head slowly. "Really, Kitt, the things that pop into your head sometimes. Listen to me carefully, you noodle. First, the question of size is easily resolved. If you were thinking with your usual efficiency, you'd have figured it out for yourself. We're twins. Right? As close to identical as male and female can be. Right? Same hair, same eyes, same facial structure, same coordination, same long bones. I'm tall for a man; you're proportionately tall for a woman. Right? Right?" He waited for her wide-eyed nod of agreement, noting the dawning of understanding deep in the smoky eyes.
"Yes. Well, like O'Mara,
all
of me is definitely in proportion. Understand? Therefore, it's logical to assume that all of you is in proportion, too. Hmmm?"
"Ohhhh."
"Indeedy."
"I never thought of that, Ez." Her mouth widened in a delighted smile. "How could I have been so dense?"
"Hah! Because you've been walking around mush-minded ever since O'Mara strolled into the shop that first day."
Kitt's smile suddenly faded. "Wait a minute. If you're right about this, how come it was so painful with Leon?"
"Just what I told you before. Size wouldn't matter if you were... dry... and your muscles were tight with fear. Which leads us to the second point I want to make. O'Mara has undoubtedly had considerable experience. He's not the celibate type."
"I know that," Kitt said hastily. "He used to take out a sandpiper now and then during those summers, and I know he's had a number of casual relationships over the years. He told me. It doesn't bother me, Ez. After all, one of us should know what we're doing."
"True. And knowing the type of man he is, I'd say he does it very well. He'll be very careful with you, and he's got enough control and experience to know how to judge your pace and match it. He won't try to hurry you. It would help both of you, I think, if you could tell him beforehand just what you've been telling me about your fears. Especially about this size thing. I doubt if he's guessed that one; I didn't. He can reassure you about that in ways that a brother can't. Do you understand?"
"I think so," she said slowly. "At least, I've got the drift of what you're talking about. Enough so I'll leave it to him to explain the rest."
She freed one of her hands to push her hair back in a characteristic gesture, and then reached for her brandy snifter. Ez waited patiently while she took a couple of slow sips, his eyes moving from the slight frown between her brows to the white teeth nibbling at her bottom lip.
Finally, she looked at him, her face relaxing into serene smoothness, her eyes clear and direct. "What you said before about my thinking in terms of an instrument of pain rather than pleasure... I think you're right. That's just how I've been feeling about it. I haven't been able to see it any other way because— No, it's more than that. Everything is tied in together. I've been trying to overcome that instinctive panic, but at the same time I've been building up another fear that's feeding that one, and I've managed to dump myself into an endless whirlpool. As soon as a little bit of one fear drains out of the bottom, I add another one to the top."
"Well, we're making progress," Ez said encouragingly. "Now that we've identified all the elements, what are you going to do about them?"
"Oh, psych myself out of them, I guess. You've lifted a weight by explaining away that size thing I got hung up on. That should help me reason through the rest of it, as long as I keep the emphasis on O'Mara and how we feel about each other. I do trust him, you know. We've made a lot of progress, and I was sure that everything would be okay until I started worrying that he wouldn't be able to help but hurt me. However,
now
I'm sure we can overcome whatever's left."
"One thing that will help right now is sleep," declared Ez, standing up and pulling Kitt to her feet. Flipping off lights, he pushed her ahead of him toward the hall.
"By the way," he said idly as he detoured into the kitchen to deposit glasses and mugs in the sink, "have you met your neighbors yet?"
"Which ones? The houses on both sides belong to summer residents, and I don't think any of them have been up yet."
"Oh? Hmm. There was a car parked against the front fence of that house when I came home." Ez waved a hand toward the east, indicating the old saltbox-style house on the downriver side of the shop.
"Odd," Kitt said musingly. "Wonder why they'd leave it out front? There's a driveway on the far side. I'd think they'd want it off the street."
"Maybe they think it's more protected under those trees." Ez yawned hugely as he pushed open his bedroom door. "Oh, well, maybe you'll meet them tomorrow. You okay now? Try to get some sleep, owl eyes. Once O'Mara's back, it'll all work out much easier than you think. Good night, Sis."
"Night." Kitt hesitated in the doorway and looked back at him. "Ez? Thank you."
"Any time." His mischievous grin flashed as he added, "But it would be a restful change if we could sometime have one of these analytical discussions before two in the morning."
Chapter 18
As the days of O'Mara's absence continued to pass in their erratic stop-start way, Kitt began to feel as if she were on a ferris wheel. Her mood would lighten and rise to hopeful heights as she dreamed of the life they would have together: of Gus playing big brother to a smaller version of himself and a coltish, laughing little girl; of the beautiful house on the Rock filled with love and the sound of happy children; of the private world that she and O'Mara would find in that exotic suite on the second floor. But sometimes, when she closed her eyes and thought about being with him in that big bed, her fears would start to shadow the joy, and she'd wonder if she really would be able to overcome her inhibitions and anxieties. Stopping and starting, rising and falling, the wheels of mood and time moved forward through one week and into the next.
Periodically, Kitt forced herself to blank O'Mara and her sexual hang-ups out of her mind and tend to business. Ez had left his wagon for her and taken her Camaro back for a week, so she was able to make two fruitful trips to the distributor's warehouse in Portsmouth and restock the shop. Midge's friend, Joanne, who had filled in on those afternoons of Kitt's shopping spree, had expressed interest in working on a regular basis in the afternoons until her college semester was finished, and then full time for the summer. With Midge's enthusiastic encouragement, Kitt hired the quiet, dark-haired girl, and quickly decided that Joanne was just what they had needed.
The three women worked very well together. Kitt and Midge furnished the flair and imagination necessary to design interesting, innovative displays and to select the kind of stock that would appeal to the broad range of tastes catered to by a resort-town bookshop. Joanne, much to Kitt's delight, actually enjoyed keeping records, filing and generally organizing paper work and catalogs. With a sigh of relief, Kitt happily let her take it all over, and they set up a schedule so that Joanne had time to spend upstairs in Kitt's study as well as down in the shop.
For most of that week and into the next, they were all busy rearranging the shop to accommodate the new stock, one of the major chores being to shift the paperback area around to make room for a new, extensive romance section and to expand the sections for science fiction and westerns. Aside from answering inquiries and waiting on customers, they didn't have time to pay much attention to idle browsers except to ask if they needed assistance. It was the beginning of May and the weather was good, so there was an unusual number of early tourists in town, most of whom seemed to spend part of their time in the bookshop. Neither Kitt, Midge nor Joanne took any notice of one particular young man among the several strangers who visited the shop more than once over that week and a half.
Kitt's evenings were becoming divided between the Rock and her apartment. Gus's after-school visits continued on the days that he didn't have baseball practice, and Kitt usually ended up taking him home in time to join Andy for supper. Gus had taken his father's admonitions to "look after Kitt" seriously, and he urged her to go home early so that she wouldn't be driving after dark. Although she wouldn't have minded going a bit later so that she could spend some time with Andy, she laughingly gave in to Gus's scoldings and went home early and safely to spend the evening alone. Until the Monday night almost two weeks after O'Mara had left.
It had been a strenuous weekend. Ez and Midge were in top form and had insisted on taking Kitt along to a wildly exuberant birthday party for a friend of Midge's which had lasted most of Saturday night. After a few hours of sleep, they hauled her out Sunday morning to go jogging and then to meet "the gang" for a morning-after brunch which ended up in a hilarious game of touch football. By this time, Kitt was totally relaxed with these friends of Midge's. It had been made clear that she was considered "Mike Talbot's girl" by the men, and that no one was going to get too close. If anyone did have an urge in her direction, Ez's size and narrow-eyed just-try-it smile were enough to banish the thought. Easy with these new friends, Kitt agreed Sunday evening to go along with Midge, Ez and the crowd to dinner and a disco in Portland. It was another enjoyable but late night, and she drifted through Monday half-asleep.