The Bracelet. Karen Smith Rose
that fell below her calves. Her tummy tumbled as her gaze met his again. What was she doing?
Suddenly he came around to her side of the car and opened the door. The gesture was his personal invitation. She couldn’t resist it. She couldn’t resist him. She slid into the low, blue vinyl bucket seat, and when he closed her door, a happy feeling warmed her.
Over the next hour, they’d eaten and gotten to know each other. They’d stayed away from discussing the demonstration and the war, sensing they were on opposite sides, if not by belief then by circumstance. She loved listening to Brady’s deep voice. She liked studying his interesting face with the slight bump on his nose, the scar along the right side of his mouth, the beard line growing darker on his jaw.
It distracted her so. She yearned to touch it. Instead she tried to focus her mind on the conversation.
“So your parents were killed when you were twelve?” he asked, finishing a slice of coconut cake.
When she nodded, an old weight filled her heart. The deep cavern of missing would never have a bottom no matter how many years passed. “Yes, and my aunt Marcia took me in. It wasn’t a free choice. She was my only relative. She let me live with her because she knew I wouldn’t give her any trouble.”
“That’s not a reason to take in a child who’s lost her parents.”
“It’s been okay. I’m hoping by next year to be promoted to department manager. When I get that jump in salary, I can rent my own apartment.”
He reached across the table, and she thought he was going to take her hand. But he backed off. “You’ve been through some tough times. I can’t imagine only having an aunt for family. I have two younger brothers and a younger sister. I always have family around. Holidays at our house are wild.”
“Holidays at my aunt’s are quiet. In fact, she went away over Christmas and I spent it with a friend.” Laura mentioned it as if it was no big deal. The truth was, she’d had a great time with her best high-school friend and her mother, better than she would have had with her aunt. But she longed for a family of her own. More than anything, she wanted to be a mother. But she couldn’t tell Brady that. Not yet. Maybe someday.
They talked until the restaurant emptied, asking for refills on coffee to occupy the waitress. They had so much to say. All the while Brady had gazed at her with a focus she’d never felt from a man. They listened to much of the same music, and after dinner when “Aquarius” played on the car radio as he drove through Elmwood, they sang along—“Let the sunshine in.”
Laura loved the unselfconscious way she felt around Brady. It was as if she’d known him for years instead of hours. Her sixth sense told her he wasn’t leading her on.
After he drove down her street and she pointed out her house, he parked at the curb, then came around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. She was terrifically aware of him as they walked up the path to the three concrete steps.
“Is your aunt strict?” he asked. “I mean, does she expect you home at a certain time?”
Laura checked her watch. “My aunt spends Saturday nights with friends. She won’t be home for a while.”
A corner of his lips quirked up. “Does that mean you’re going to invite me in?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You shouldn’t have been involved in an antiwar demonstration that could have landed you in jail,” he muttered, obviously disappointed with her answer.
“I stand up for what I believe in,” she replied quietly. He’d better understand that about her.
The porch light her aunt had left on backlit him. After a thoughtful pause and a frown, he stared into her eyes. “Do you believe we should get to know each other better?”
She was feeling too much already and realized she should be smart. “If you’re going into the service, is there any point?”
Moving closer to her then—just a step, yet it seemed to cover a mile—he enveloped her hands with his. “It would be nice to have someone to write to, someone who mattered.”
“You don’t have anyone who matters?”
“I have my parents, sister and brothers. But family is one thing—a pretty girl with a flower in her hair another.”
Laura had nosy neighbors. An older couple sat on a porch a few doors down, and who knew how many other neighbors had noticed them.
Pulling one hand from Brady’s, she took a key from her pocket. Still holding his hand, she tugged him up the steps onto the porch and to the door. Then she unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The living room was unremarkable, and Brady would probably consider it plain. The low-pile carpet and flowered upholstered furniture were ordinary.
But Brady didn’t seem to care. He put his arms around her and drew her toward him. “Do you believe in free love?”
The heat and hunger in his eyes sparked a like response in her. But she wasn’t going to be foolish. “Love isn’t free.”
Her conclusion made his brows raise. “You’ve learned that already?”
She nodded. “I have a friend who sleeps with every guy who asks her out. She’s not happy. I have another friend who’s saving herself for marriage. And she’s not happy, either. Neither is her boyfriend.”
A slow smile slipped across Brady’s lips. “So what’s your philosophy?”
“I don’t have one. I just know I have to be careful, I have to be cautious and I have to be sure that whatever I do is right for me.”
“Of all the girls I could have found at the demonstration, I had to choose one with common sense.”
Although she smiled, she asked, “Is that why you were there? To find a date?”
His expression sobered. “No. I’m not sure why I was there. I guess I had to get a feel for both sides. I wanted to know that going to fight over there was the right thing for me to do.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. My dad said he has a friend who could pull strings so I don’t get sent to Nam. That’s what my mother wants. But I can’t let him do that. I have a classmate who came back without his leg. I have to help finish what the guys before us started.” His sober expression changed. “But in the meantime—”
He was waiting for some sign from her that they should take whatever was happening between them further, that she wouldn’t back away.
She pictured him in uniform, imagined him leaving, thought about him fighting in a war he felt he had a duty to fight. In spite of the warning voice in her head, she let her fingers follow her heart. She lifted her hand and traced a line down the side of Brady’s face. She felt his jaw tense and his body go taut.
Her caress was obviously the sign he’d wanted. He kissed her until she was dizzy.
Eventually he murmured, “I’d better go. When can I see you again? I’m going back to school tomorrow night, but I can pick you up after church and you can meet my family.”
“Won’t they mind if I barge in?”
“They won’t mind. You can stay for dinner. Mom cooks enough for an army.”
“Oh, Brady, I don’t know. You’re just going to take me home—?”
“Yeah, I am, unless you’d rather not meet everyone.”
All day this man had projected confidence and self-assurance, but now he seemed uncertain. “Unless you’d rather I just go back to college and forget today ever happened.”
“No! I want to see you again. And I’d like to meet your family. But I don’t want to feel like an intruder.”
“You