Chapter Forty-Nine
Jane had no desire whatsoever to return to work the next morning. Her foot ached. Well,
all
of her ached, she realized, smiling and stretching--carefully--as she lay in bed. Plus she had rug burns on her back and behind. Peter had kept her up very late last night and had made it obvious that he had taken her instruction about not touching himself while she'd been away very seriously.
He had been insatiable, making love to her not only on the rug, but bent over the counter next to the cash register--lifting her by the hips so she wouldn't have to put any weight on her sore foot--and then sprawled over a table from which he'd removed the books with a sweep of his arm.
And again, slowly and tenderly, in the back seat of his car as they parked in their usual place along the driveway to her house.
They had hardly spoken at all, so wrapped up were they in each other; hadn't talked about what she'd done in Cape Cod or what he'd done while she was away. It was all murmured endearments and ceaseless touching and the sweetness of being together again.
It had been hard to say good night, even late as it was, so reluctant were they to part from each other. But finally Peter had pulled himself away long enough to take her bicycle out of the car's trunk and stand it beside her. Then they'd kissed good night--several times. If it hadn't been for her foot, Jane smiled to herself, they might still be standing there now.
As it was, they had plans to meet as soon as they both got off work--which was reason enough to get out of bed, Jane thought.
After showering and getting dressed, she hobbled down the stairs with a bag of the laundry that had accumulated while she was in Cape Cod. Her parents were already having breakfast in the kitchen. Her father jumped up when he saw her limping in with the laundry bag and offered to take it downstairs for her but she smiled and waved him back into his seat and told him she was fine.
She made her way down the basement stairs and over to the area where the washer and dryer were.
And stopped, staring, at the clothing draped over the sawhorse. She could see at a glance that they didn't belong to her, and she was pretty sure they weren't her mother's. Why would she have arranged an entire outfit, including pantyhose and shoes, over the sawhorse? It must have been...
That's why the door was open!
Jane let the laundry bag fall to the floor. She thought furiously, trying to figure out the meaning of what she saw. Chrissy had gotten into the house, that much was obvious. But what had she done there? And more importantly, had she been alone? Had she and Peter... No, he wouldn't have done that without discussing it with Jane first.
Unless...
Jane knew how obsessed Chrissy had been with seeing 'Father Brian' again. And Jane
had
discussed the possibility with Peter. Chrissy had somehow convinced Peter that Jane had arranged it--that was it.
Jane's gaze fell upon the workbench. She wasn't positive, but she was pretty sure she had coiled the ropes neatly after the last time--and now they were spread carelessly across the workbench.
What the hell was going on?
There wasn't time to sort it out now; she had to get to work. She quickly stuffed her laundry into the washing machine and started it, then put Chrissy's things into the laundry bag and hid it under the workbench.
As she climbed back up the stairs Jane made up her mind that she would get to the bottom of this before the day was over or know the reason why.
Chapter Fifty
"...And Mom was out so we had the house to ourselves, and we both just looked at each other, you know? And we started kissing before we even sat down on the couch."
They were at their usual lunchtime spot, and Suzy was telling Jane, in conspiratorial whispers, the latest installment of her adventures with Joe. The moment Jane had entered the store that morning Suzy had run over and hugged her in greeting and whispered, "I can't
wait
to talk to you. There's no one else I can tell," and given Jane such a triumphant grin that Jane knew right away what it was about.
But Jane was only half-listening; for once she wasn't enjoying Suzy's bright chatter. She'd thought about making an excuse and slipping away to call Peter but had decided it was something they needed to discuss face-to-face; it would wait until the end of the day. But it didn't make the time pass any faster or the nagging questions stop chasing each other around in her head.
She tried to focus on what Suzy was saying. It
was
pretty interesting...
"...I asked him if he ever thought about the night I took my dress off in the window and he said, 'Only all the time.' Isn't that sweet, Janey? Then he said he'd give anything to see me like that again and of course I pretended to be all reluctant and said, 'Oh, no you don't, Joe Haworth.' Then I started kissing him again like I wasn't even thinking about it any more.
"Then I said, 'If I did...' and then I shook my head and went back to kissing him, but I knew he wouldn't let it go now. And he said, 'What? What?' and I said 'No, I don't trust you, mister. It's one thing to be up in my room while you're outside...' And Janey, he jumped up like a jack-in-the-box and said, 'Fine, I'll go!' It made me laugh. But I pulled him back down again and said, "You big dope, do you think you're gonna stand out in my yard in broad daylight looking up at my window when my mom's gonna be home any minute?'
"Oh Janey, he looked so sad! And you know I really wanted to do it anyway. That's when I remembered what you said."
Jane blinked. "What
I
said?"
Suzy grinned impishly. "Yes--about tying him to a chair? I guess you were joking, but I thought, why not? So I didn't say a thing, Janey, I just stood up and led him over to a chair and made him sit there. There was a basket of laundry waiting to go upstairs so I took a pair of my knee-socks and... Janey, I tied his hands to the chair behind him! It was so much fun! It was like we were playing pirates or something! And all the time, Joe kept asking, 'What are you doing? Suzy, what are you doing?' I think he was a little scared, to tell you the truth.
