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“The wedding was something, huh?”
Hmm. He sounded cautious. Not too cautious, she hoped, to tell her what he thought of the oh-so-moving ceremony they’d attended this afternoon.
Something had been different over the past hours, whenthey’dbeenmakinglove,andsnoozingineach other’s arms, and making love, and dozing in each other’s arms. She’d like to know more about what was different, or why, or how. It wasn’t always easy to find out what was going on inside Van’s head.
She repeated after him. “Yeah, the wedding was something.”
Van stroked her arm as though he was bemused and distracted as he reveled in the feel of her skin on his fingertips. Her skin reveled right back.
“Aunt Cynthia and Brock,” Van finally said, “look like they think what they have will last.”
“Cyn does, that’s for sure. Uncle Brock — I think it’ll take some time before he believes, way down deep, she won’t leave him. I’d say, though, she has persuaded him to fake it until he makes it. Or she’s got him thinking about using the handcuffs.”
It would be a long time before Mary stopped laughing about those handcuffs. They were shocking pink andvelvet-lined.Inaquietmomentbetweentheceremony and the reception, Cyn had presented them to Brock with an impish grin and a card saying: “In case of flight, lock around the wrists of the bride and groom, respectively.”
Van joined her in a chuckle, and she relished her headbouncinggentlyonhischest.Ahh,notjustthat. She relished everything about him.
Including the surprise of what he was taking away from the wedding. She’d expected that, if he were going to dwell on anything about it, it would be wallowing happily at palming off the responsibility forCyn’shappinessontoUncleBrock.ButVanhadn’t yet given an inkling he was glad to demolish one more obstacle in his path to artistic solitude.
She hoped she could teach him a little more about this artistic-solitude dream of his before he left her.
First, she wasn’t at all sure sculpting in stone was his thing. To her, his hands were made for beautiful things that nourished the body and soul of someone, whether two-legged or four. Being close to this someone in turn nourished his art.
Second, he needed to learn that being close didn’t mean he could and should run someone else’s life. Nobody could nurture and protect everybody they cared about, make them all happy, the way Van tried to do. No wonder the man thought he had to run away from all his responsibilities to have anything left for himself.
But that was Van. All or nothing. Haagen-Dazs ice cream or Melba toast. No, make that starvation.
It didn’t make much sense to Mary that he felt so responsible, although it made him infinitely special that he did. What a wonderful father he would make if ...
“Do you think they’d consider having kids if it weren’t a moot point for Aunt Cynthia at her age?” Van asked.
So, both Mary and Van had kids on the mind. It was par for the course for her. Her biological clock was starting to tick now and then, but it was strange for Van to be thinking of kids in any way.
“Yeah, I think they would be thinking about children,” Mary said. “With or without them, though, I think it will last for Cyn and Brock. In fact, I’m sure of it. Cyn will make sure of it. And she might even convinceUncleBrocktobelieve.”Marygrinned.“Did you see his face when she gave him the handcuffs?”
He chuckled.
“You’re the guy, so tell me. How did he take that gift? Was he reassured or convinced or anything, do you think? Or just embarrassed?”
“He wouldn’t admit to any of them.”
“Hey, no copping out. Answer me.”
He chuckled again, but he wouldn’t look her in the eye, and his forehead creased. Finally, he changed the subject altogether. “Aunt Cynthia asked me about a dog.”
Mary hadn’t seen that one coming.
“She said I had a dog when I was a kid.”
Strange. That sounded as though he wondered whether his aunt was right. Surely he’d know whether he had a dog when he was a kid. “Did you?”
“We had a dog. After Aunt Cyn mentioned it, I remembered that. I don’t think I had a dog, though. A kid would love a dog if it was his, wouldn’t he? I don’t remember much about this dog at all. Just that itappearedinthehouseoneday,anditwasaround.”
“Boy or girl dog?”
“I don’t remember. That’s not something a little boy would forget, is it?”
“No, it’s not. Did you ask Cyn about that?”
