Edward Ashley’s surgical gown was stained with blood. He looked at the monitor. The heart was strong and steady.
“Thanks.”
Edward Ashley had showered and changed clothes and was in his office writing up the required medical report. It was a pleasant office, filled with bookcases containing medical tomes and athletic trophies. It contained a desk, an easy chair, and a small table with two straight chairs. On the walls were his diplomas, neatly framed.
Edward’s body felt stiff and tired from the tension he had just gone through. At the same time, he felt sexually aroused, as he always did after major surgery. It’s coming face-to-face with death that magnifies the values of the life force, a psychiatrist had once explained to Edward. Making love is the affirmation of nature’s continuum. Whatever the reason, Edward thought, I wish Mary were here.
He selected a pipe from the pipe rack on his desk, lighted it, and sank into the easy chair and stretched out his legs. Thinking about Mary made him feel guilty. He was responsible for her turning down the President’s offer, and his reasons were valid. But there’s more to it than that, Edward admitted to himself. I was jealous. I reacted like a spoiled brat. What would have happened if the President had made me an offer like that? I’d probably have jumped at it. Jesus! All I could think of was that I wanted Mary to stay home and take care of me and the kids. Talk about your genuine male chauvinist pig!
He sat there, smoking his pipe, upset with himself. Too late, he thought. But I’ll make it up to her. I’ll surprise her this summer with a trip to Paris and London. Maybe I’ll take her to Romania. We’ll have a real honeymoon.
The Junction City Country Club is a three-level limestone building set in the midst of lush hills. The club has an eighteen-hole golf course, two tennis courts, a swimming pool, a bar and dining room with a large fireplace at one end, a card room upstairs, and locker rooms downstairs.
Edward’s father had belonged to the club, as had Mary’s father, and Edward and Mary had been taken there since they were children. The town was a closely knit community, and the country club was its symbol.
When Edward and Mary arrived, it was late, and there was only a sprinkling of guests left in the dining room. They stared, watching as Mary sat down, and whispered to one another. Mary was getting used to it.
Edward looked at his wife. “Any regrets?”
Of course there were regrets. But they were castles-in-Spain regrets about the kind of glamorous, impossible dreams that everyone has. If I had been born a princess; if I were a millionnairess; if I received the Nobel Prize for curing cancer; if…if…if…
Mary smiled. “None, darling. It was a fluke that they even asked me. Anyhow, there’s no way I would ever leave you or the children.” She took his hand in hers. “No regrets. I’m glad I refused the offer.”
He leaned across to her and whispered, “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Let’s go.” Mary smiled.
In the beginning, when they were first married, their lovemaking had been fierce and demanding. They had a constant physical need for each other that could not be satisfied until they were both completely spent. The urgency had mellowed with time, but the emotions were still there, constant and sweet and fulfilling.
When they returned home now, they undressed without haste and got into bed. Edward held her close to him, then began to stroke her body gently, playing with her breasts, teasing the nipples with his fingers, moving his hand down toward the velvety softness.
Mary moaned with pleasure. “That feels wonderful.”
She moved on top of him and began flicking her tongue down his body, feeling him become hard. When they were both ready, they made love until they were exhausted. Edward held his wife tightly in his arms. “I love you so much, Mary.”
“I love you twice as much. Good night, darling.”
At three o’clock in the morning, the phone exploded into sound. Edward sleepily reached for the instrument and brought it to his ear. “Hello…”