One Good Turn (13 page)

She recalled the way he had felt inside her the first time they’d made love. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he’d whispered when he’d realized how small she was. But he hadn’t hurt her. He’d felt wonderful.

And as he rose fully on top of her, as his legs nudged hers apart and his body surged deep within her, he felt wonderful again. Better than wonderful. He felt like life itself, energy and light, desire and need, fear and the exhilaration of overcoming fear. She held him, loved him, rose to meet his fierce thrusts until the painfully sweet sensations broke free and pulsed through her, taking her somewhere she’d never been before, somewhere she hadn’t known existed.

Until tonight. Until Luke shared it with her.

“MARRY ME,” HE
said again, a long time later.

They were breathing normally at last, resting side by side in the shadowy bedroom, facing each other on the pillow with their hands clasped between them. The sun had set, throwing the room into near-darkness, but Jenny was still able to make out the details of Luke’s face just inches from hers.

He wasn’t smiling.

“Is this some kind of plot?” she teased. “You think if you make love to me enough times I’ll say yes to anything?”

“That’s an interesting idea.” He gently wedged his knee between her thighs. “Will it work?”

She almost dared him to try it and see. She fantasized about making love with him over and over until they were too exhausted to continue. She fantasized about marrying him. That was all it was, of course—a fantasy. She couldn’t possibly take him seriously.

Her stomach made a faint growl, just loud enough to remind her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. Reality was intruding; she had to set aside the fantasies. “I love you, Luke,” she said, gazing steadily at him. “But we’re so young. We have to finish college, at least, don’t you think?”

“We can still finish college if we’re married.”

“If you’re in New Jersey and I’m in Massachusetts, it’s not going to be much of a marriage.”

“Where’s your optimism?” he asked, a hint of accusation filtering through his voice. “You don’t think we could work it out?”

“I think we could,” she assured him. “I think we can. But I have to finish college first. And I’ll need a master’s degree if I want to teach. I have a ton of educational loans to pay off—”

“In that case, I retract the proposal,” Luke said wryly. “I don’t want to get stuck paying off your loans.”

She was relieved by the return of his sense of humor. Smiling, she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I’m not saying no, Luke. I’m saying maybe yes. But we need time. You know I’m right.”

“You’re always right,” he muttered, mirroring her smile. “I’m going to have to think this thing through a little more. I don’t know if I can stand being married to someone who’s always right.”

“Oh, you can stand it just fine,” she joked. “Trust me, Luke—I’m right about this. As always.” Then she cuddled up to him, cushioning her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes again.

He wanted to marry her. He really wanted to.

His life was in a state of upheaval right now. His professional future had just been thrown into turmoil, his father was infuriated with him, his brother lived halfway around the world... In his position she wouldn’t know what to do or where to turn.

Luke knew where to turn: to Jenny. He knew what to do: hold onto her, any way he could. Her love was the only constant, the one thing he could rely on in his turbulent universe.

She did love him. As she’d said to Sybil that very evening, if she made love with Luke she would be his forever. That premonition seemed as true now as it had been when she’d spoken it.

She and Luke were too young. So many things were waiting to happen to them, so much growing remained to be done. She couldn’t marry him, not yet.

But she was his. She couldn’t deny it. She was his.

TWO DAYS LATER,
he left Washington.

His father was gone when he returned to the duplex the following morning to shower and change his clothes before work. Not a sign of the old man, not a trace, not even a dirty cup in the kitchen sink. The swanky modern furnishings looked colder and more stark than ever. Moving through the duplex to the upstairs bedroom he’d been using, Luke felt like a trespasser.

The call came at work: not his father, not his mother, not even Elliott. “Luke,” his grandfather proclaimed, “you’d better come home.” No explanation offered; none needed.

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he promised.

August had begun, and the halls of Congress were emptying as Senators and Representatives left town. Lee Pappelli could have found tasks to keep Luke occupied—just because Congress was in recess didn’t mean Senator Milford stopped receiving constituent communications and no longer needed up-to-date research on the bills coming up for a vote during the fall session. But when Luke explained that he had some family problems to attend to, Lee thanked him for a productive June and July, wished him well and sent him on his way. The busy-work Luke had been doing could be handled by any literate human being. Surely some other lobbyist was waiting in the wings, ready to finger Howard Milford for a job for his kid.

Saying good-bye to his summer job was easy enough. Saying good-bye to Jenny, however, would be agony. Luke met her at the C Street exit from her building after work and they walked together to the Mall, where they bought hot dogs and sodas from a street vendor. Among the many things he’d learned from Jenny this summer was how to simplify a picnic.

“I have to go home,” he told her.

They sat on a bench near the Freer Gallery. The air was hot and muggy, sour with the smell of auto exhausts. Yet in her loose, sleeveless cotton shift with its delicate pattern of yellow and green flowers, and with her hair pulled back from her face in a pony-tail, Jenny looked cool and refreshed. Sipping her soda through a straw, she studied him intently, her eyes reflecting the green in her dress. “Is it bad?” she finally asked.

“I think so. My grandfather called.”

“It’s my fault, isn’t it,” she concluded mournfully.

“No, Jenny, it’s not.” In spite of the heat he wrapped his arm snugly around her. “You saved my life. You made me see the light. Don’t ever apologize.”

“But your father—”

“My father is pissed at me. It’s something I’m going to have to deal with.” He ought to have felt some trepidation about returning to the family estate in Larchmont and going head to head with his father, but he didn’t. He no longer had to prostrate himself before the old man. He no longer had to go begging for love. Jenny loved him for who he was, not for who she wanted him to be. She gave her love freely, without stipulations or riders.

After all these years, Luke finally understood what love was all about. He loved his father, but the only love he would accept from his father in return was unconditional love. He would always, always long for his father’s love, but he would no longer barter his soul for it. Love wasn’t a bargaining chip. It was non-negotiable.

“I wish I could come with you,” Jenny murmured.

He let out a short laugh. “And do what? Deflect the bullets? Taste my food for poison?”

She remained solemn. “I could give you moral support.”

“You can give me moral support even if you’re in Washington.”

“And you can come back to Washington after you work things out with your father,” she added, brightening.

“
If
I work things out with him.”

“Is there a chance you won’t?”

He issued another brief, humorless laugh. “I don’t know. He’s already blown it with Elliott. Maybe he’ll be more willing to compromise with me. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Who am I kidding? I’ve known the guy for twenty-one years; I’m not going to be able to work things out with him in a few days.” Giving Jenny’s shoulders a squeeze, he added, “But I’m not going to run away like Elliott. I’m going to stick around and see it through.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You’ll make your peace with your father,” she insisted. “I’ve got faith in you. Everything’s going to turn out just fine.”

If he let himself, he could almost believe her. Rising from the bench, discarding their napkins and cans in a trash bin and then strolling along one of the unpaved paths across the Mall with her, he could very nearly believe that things would work out.

At least
this
would work out, he vowed to himself. At least he and Jenny would have each other. He would keep in close touch with her, and they would date long-distance during their final year of college, and then, wherever she decided to go to graduate school, he’d go there, too. Perhaps he would also go to graduate school—not law school but a decent Ph.D. program. He would devote himself this year to his studies instead of preparing for the law boards, and then he would earn himself a doctorate. He and Jenny would move into a married-students dorm. They could graduate as Mr. and Mrs. Benning—or Dr. and Mrs., or—why not?—Dr. and Dr.

Or else he’d take a job. With a degree from Princeton he ought to be able to find some sort of reputable employment, something that paid well enough to cover his new bride’s education loans. Once he was with Jenny, the particulars would fall into place.

They continued to walk, passing joggers and tourists and other young couples out for the evening. Jenny’s pony-tail began to unravel, leaking wavy tendrils that softened the angles of her face. “I think it’s a good thing that you’re going,” she remarked. “Not that I want you to leave, Luke—I’m going to miss you. But it’s good for you to go and get things settled.”

The sun was sinking toward the Virginia horizon, glazing the sky with gold.

“Your father will have had a little time to cool off and think about things, too,” she went on. “He’ll probably feel more comfortable hearing you out when he’s at home. A public dining room isn’t the right place to sort out a family disagreement.”

Luke didn’t bother to point out that James Benning was used to doing the bulk of his wheeling and dealing in public places, or that he considered the City Tavern one of his homes away from home. Jenny’s pep-talk encouraged him. He wouldn’t interrupt.

“Under all his bluff and bluster, Luke, your father is a good man. I’m sure of it. I know he doesn’t like me—he’s coming from a different place than I am. But I think he’s basically good inside.”

I love you,
Luke whispered into her hair. After his father had browbeaten and insulted her, after he’d behaved so rudely to her, she still saw the good in him. More than anything, more even than the splendors they had shared in her bed last night, Luke loved her for her unshakable faith in others.

“Look at the sunset,” she said, halting on the grass and gazing toward the west. The Washington Monument rose in a proud silhouette against the sky, which was streaked with pink and dark blue and gold. “It’s so beautiful. There’s so much beauty in this world, Luke.”

Any world that had Jenny in it had to be beautiful, he thought. Whatever the outcome of his showdown with his father, Luke knew he would survive, even triumph. His world had Jenny in it; he needed nothing else.

HE HAD NEVER
guessed that merely returning to Princeton to finish his undergraduate work would constitute a major victory. His homecoming had gone much worse than he’d anticipated. At times he’d found it almost impossible to hang on to the optimism Jenny had instilled in him.

By the time he pulled onto the broad circular driveway in front of his parents’ stately home in Larchmont, some forty-eight hours after he’d stormed out of the City Tavern with Jenny, his father had all but declared him dead. “After everything I’ve done to you, you turned your back on me!” he shouted. “You’re a selfish ingrate. You’re as bad as your brother. Even worse. Get the hell out of my sight. I don’t want to see you again.”

Perhaps all the old man needed was a longer cooling-off period, but in the meantime the bill for Luke’s senior-year tuition had come due. James refused to pay it. “Not another cent,” his father railed. Luke took refuge in his bedroom, but even there he was unable to escape his father’s raging, which reached his ears through the closed door, through the walls and floorboards. After a couple of days he moved out, accepting his grandfather’s reluctant offer of hospitality.

His mother snuck him some money from a household account, and his grandfather, who believed Luke had made the wrong choice but admired his nerve, gave him twice the amount his mother had come up with. He sold the BMW for a bargain-basement price, applied for a loan, and took the bus down to Princeton two weeks before the fall term began so he could find himself a part-time job near campus. Upon hearing what Luke had done, Elliott sent him a check for six-hundred seventy two dollars. “It’s all I can spare,” he wrote. “You’ve got more guts than me, kid. Go for it.”

He landed a job working the graveyard shift three nights a week at a convenience store a few blocks from the campus. Never before had he had to budget every penny—and every minute—but he didn’t mind. Sometimes he would cheer himself with the thought that hard work built character. At one-thirty in the morning, when the convenience store was empty of customers but still open, Luke could get a great deal of studying done while getting paid. If he was chronically exhausted, if he was a little ragged at the edges, so be it. He was going to get his damned degree—with honors, if he could manage it—and thumb his nose at his father.

He had two secret weapons. One was his best friend Taylor, who sent him to his night shift behind the counter with portable gourmet feasts—overstuffed sandwiches, reheatable meat pies, slices of mocha cheesecake. “Hey, man, if you’ve got to stay awake till two in the morning, you may as well have some Fettucini Alfredo to keep you company,” Taylor would say as he packed various concoctions in microwavable containers for his friend.

Luke’s other secret weapon was Jenny. He would have liked to talk to her every night, but he couldn’t afford to run up exorbitant phone bills. So he called her every Saturday morning, and she called him every Tuesday evening. “I miss you,” he’d tell her. “If only I hadn’t had to sell my car, I could come up and visit you.”