Read Online Three Women at the Water's Edge by Nancy Thayer - Free Book Online Page A

the scotch, and reached out to set the glass on the bath mat, her arm dripping water and suds onto the floor. Then she sank back into the heat of the water and pressed both hands against her heart, and thought: she would lie in the tub until she was completely warm, and then she would put on her warmest nightgown and robe and slippers, and then she would eat the beef stew, and drink a glass of red wine, and then she would help Carol with the dishes, and then she would grade papers, and eat a crisp pear and drink coffee. And when would Hank Kennedy call: when she was tying the sash of her robe? Or biting into the sweet white flesh of the pear?
    —
    He called just as Dale had finished grading all the papers, when she had almost given up hope. When the phone rang, she nearly screamed. “I’ll get it,” she said to Carol.
    His voice was very low, very male. “Dale Wallace?” he said. “This is Hank Kennedy. I’m not sure you know who I am—”
    “I know who you are,” Dale said evenly.
I know who you are: I’m in love with you
.
    “Well, then,” he said, “I was wondering—I’d like to see you sometime.”
    “Yes,” Dale said. “I’d like that, too.” Was she being too obvious, too forward? She didn’t care.
    “When?” he asked. “I mean, when would be good for you?”
    Tonight
, she yearned to say,
now
. But instead she put it in his charge: “Well, almost any time is fine. When would be good for you?”
    “Well—perhaps tomorrow? After school? I could pick you up and we could go have dinner together. There are several nice restaurants around—”
    “That would be fine,” Dale said. “That would be really fine.”
    “I’ll pick you up in front of the high school tomorrow. What is a good time?”
    “Five,” she said. “Five would be good. I can get everything cleaned up and in order by then.”
    “All right,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”
    “Yes. See you then,” Dale said, and hung up. She turned to Carol and smiled. “That was Hank Kennedy,” she said calmly.
    “Well, good,” Carol said, smiling back at her. “And just think what we’ll save on the electric bill. All we’ll have to do is set our appliances next to you and they’ll run full speed.”
    “Carol,” Dale said in drawn-out syllables, pleadingly. She wanted every ounce of Carol’s attention and understanding and good warm humor, because it was true: Dale was radiant, she was electric. She was shaking. She could not imagine how she could sleep, and so she sat with Carol and talked about her years in Europe, and her college days, and her high school days, until Carol finally said, “I’m sorry, Dale, but I’ve got to get some sleep. And you should, too.”
    So Dale dutifully climbed into bed to sleep. But it seemed to her that she spent the entire night lying on her back, smiling up at the ceiling with anticipation and great delight, never closing her eyes.
    —
    They had dinner at a small seafood restaurant in Ogunquit. As the day had drawn on toward five o’clock, Dale had come to be more and more apprehensive, afraid that when she finally was close to Hank Kennedy, something would be wrong: he would have bad teeth, bad breath, or he would be dull or silly, or have some enormous imperfection that would ruin everything. So as the evening went on, she became more and more giddy with relief, because he was not imperfect, he was perfect: he was beautiful, and intelligent, and in control. Her heart thumped up when she first saw him, and for the rest of the evening she was in a frenzy, wanting to touch him, wanting to touch him. She wanted it all right away, she wanted to squeeze across the bench seat of the cab of his red pickup truck to press her thigh against his, she wanted to reach across the table at the restaurant to touch his hand. Yet his words were of vital interest to her, too.
    At the beginning of the evening they talked about the obvious things: his job, her job, what they thought of various