It was a quiet ride home. Lizabeth pulled into the dusky interior of the carriage house, cut the engine, and sat studying the steering wheel, feeling swallowed up by the sudden silence. She was physically and mentally exhausted, but she felt at peace. It was as If she'd tossed a box of puzzle pieces into the air and when the pieces had fallen to the ground they'd all fit together.
Matt had his knees pressed against the dashboard. "Lizabeth, I don't fit in this car."
Lizabeth smiled. "I suppose that means you're going to buy me a new one."
Matt laughed. "I suppose it does. I hope I get more use out of it than the bed."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about the bed."
Matt didn't want to hear it. She was going to tell him to take it back, or she was going to tell him she'd pay for it by taking in laundry or something equally ridiculous. Things weren't going well for him. First Elsie came home early and now they'd settled the problem of the flasher. Staying at Lizabeth's house to protect her from the flasher had been a pretty flimsy excuse, but now he was left with nothing. He was going to have to move out. His sweat socks would get gray again. He'd be lonely at night, and lonely in the morning, and feverish with frustration all day at work. Man, life was the pits. He'd trade with Ferguson any day of the week. So Ferguson had a broken leg. Big deal. Ferguson got to live with Lizabeth. "Okay, what about the bed?"
"It's too big. I don't fit in it all by myself."
"Uh-huh."
"And another thing. It doesn't look right for people who are married to sleep apart. I mean, what will the kids think? They'll think Mom and Dad don't like each other."
"That's true. I've always said that. What are we talking about?"
Lizabeth rolled her eyes. Men were so dense. "We're talking about us."
"But we're not really married," Matt said.
"I know, and I think that's something we should correct as soon as possible."
It took a full minute for the realization to hit home. She wanted to marry him! He felt giddy with relief and happiness.
Matt pinned her against the inside of the car door. "Couldn't stand it any longer, huh?" He nuzzled her neck and kissed her just below her earlobe. "What was it that finally pushed you over the edge? Was it my washed-out jeans? The ones with the hole in the knee?" He slid the strap to her sundress off her shoulder and kissed her collarbone. "Maybe it was the way I handled the kitchen fire. So masterfully." The sundress slid lower, exposing her breast. Matt drew a line around the sensitive tip with his finger, causing Lizabeth to shiver. "Ah, Lizabeth," he whispered. "How I've missed you."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him, arching in pleasure when his hand took possession of her breast. There would always be time for Matt, she thought. When their days were insanely busy there would still be the night. There would always be the night. And there would be an occasional dalliance in the garage. "Maybe you should lock the garage doors," Lizabeth said. "I hate being interrupted."
Matt levered himself out of the import. "What a hussy!"
She was in a suggestive position on the trunk when he returned. "Do you think this is undignified for a mother?"
He pulled her panties down. "I think this is perfect for a mother."
Epilogue
Lizabeth put Elsie's suitcase in the backseat of the Cadillac and hugged her aunt. "Are you sure you won't stay? Matt said he'd turn the carriage house into an apartment for you."
"That's nice of him, but I just came for the summer, and the summer is over. Now that the pervert problem is solved there isn't much excitement here. No bingo games. And you don't have any old men. My love life has gone down the toilet. I need to go where there's more action."
Ferguson impatiently sat on the front porch, his leg still encased in the plaster cast. He flopped onto his side with a clunk of the cast and watched with detached interest as Elsie drove away. At an earlier time he might have chased her car or chomped into her suitcase, but today he was reduced to the role of spectator. His ears pricked up and his tail thumped against the wood floor when Lizabeth turned his way.
She sat down with a sigh and draped an arm around the dog. Across the street the sun was setting behind the Newsomes' TV antenna. "What a great sunset," Lizabeth said to Ferguson. "'We're lucky we get to sit here and watch it."
Ferguson made a desperate sound and pushed against her until she scratched his neck. Next week the cast would come off, and Lizabeth guessed Ferguson would be as obnoxious as ever. She was almost looking forward to it.
She twisted the gold band on her finger and felt a rush of happiness. Her life was perfect. She amended that to almost perfect. There was still the motorcycle. It was a terrific motorcycle-if you liked motorcycles. After all. it was a hog. "I'm never going to be a motorcycle person," she admitted to Ferguson. "We aren't going to tell that to Matt, because he dearly loves the blasted thing." She anxiously looked up the street. Matt and Billy had taken the Harley out two hours ago. They weren't usually gone this long, and she was worried. She always worried when Matt was out on the Harley. He'd told her how safe it was and explained about quality construction, but she worried all the same.
The screen door slammed and Jason ran out and flopped down next to Ferguson. "This is so-o-o-o boring. Nobody can play, and there's nothing on television. How come Billy got to go out on the Harley and I didn't?"
"Because you went out yesterday."
"It isn't fair."
Lizabeth's eyes were drawn back to the street. They'd been gone too long. Something was wrong. Usually she heard the Harley rumbling around the neighborhood. You could hear it a mile away. Today everything was quiet. "Why don't you get a book," Lizabeth said to Jason. "Well read a story together."
He looked past her, down the street, and his eyes got wide. "Wow!" he said. "Look at this! This is awesome!" He scrambled to his feet and took off across the lawn.
Lizabeth followed. There was a car pulling into her driveway. A brand-new, shiny, black-and-burgundy jeep-type thing that had 4x4 written in big black letters across its flank. It sat high on slightly oversize tires and had bug-eye spotlights attached to the roof. There was a hitch attached to the jeep thing, and attached to the hitch was a boat. A big, glistening white boat. Matt and Billy jumped out of the burgundy jeep.
"What do you think?" Matt asked. He wiped at a smudge on the boat with his shirttail. "It's a beauty, isn't it?"
Lizabeth had a hard time finding her voice. "What happened to the Harley?"
"I traded it in. Billy and I were cruising down the highway and we passed this boat place, and I said to myself. That's what we need! We need a boat! We can all go out together on a boat. Nobody has to get left at home anymore."
"Can we afford a boat?"
"I had some money set aside for the house I was always going to build myself. I thought I'd get a new toy instead, and well put the rest in a trust fund for college expenses."
Lizabeth almost passed out from relief. No more motorcycle. No more speeding around. "What about the car? It looks like a new car, too."
"I needed it to pull the boat"
"Of course."
Jason had climbed into the boat and was sitting in the captain's chair behind the wheel. "This is so cool. Can we take it out now? Can we take it down to the river?"
"You bet," Matt said. "We're going to take your mother for a spin. Wait'll you see what this honey can do. Lizabeth. It's a sportcruiser. Thirty feet of sleek balsa wood and fiberglass."
"It's got a deep V-hull design," Billy said. "That's for racing. This hummer can move, Mom!"
"Three hundred horsepower inboard marine motor," Matt told her. "The next best thing to good sex," he whispered in her ear.