Foul Play - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,39
soaped a leg and realized the water had gotten cold. Hormones, she thought, pulling the plug. It had to be hormones that made her so droopy. She’d used up all her hormones this morning and now she was empty.
She dropped a pale-pink dress over her head and felt a little better. It was her favorite dress. Romantic feeling and romantic looking, with a softly flared skirt, a clingy bodice, low scoop neck, and slightly ruffled cap sleeves. She slipped her feet into strappy bone sandals and finished the outfit with a pair of antique pearl earrings.
“Very nice,” Jake said when he saw her. His eyes said more. They were liquid and admiring, filled with pride and infinite love for the woman standing before him. He was almost overwhelmed with a feeling of fiercely possessive tenderness. She seemed so delicate and vulnerable in the simple little dress that subtly molded to her body.
Jake locked the front door and waved to the van. “We’re going out to dinner,” he shouted. “Hope you’ve got a tie!” He turned to Amy. “Don’t they ever give up?”
Amy shook her head. “I suppose you have to admire their tenacity, if not their judgment. What I can’t understand is, why me? There must be a real news void in Fairfax County.”
Jake gunned the motor of the sporty red car. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not used to a car that starts the first time.”
He backed out of the driveway and reached for Amy’s hand as he slowly drove through her neighborhood.
It was a stable, family-oriented subdivision that took pride in its appearance. Lots were large, having been carved at a time when land was readily available. Trees planted by those first homeowners, some twenty years previously, were mature and plentiful. Lawns and shrubbery were lush from spring rains and an unseasonably warm May. Flowers grew everywhere. Huge thick beds of impatiens nestled in red-and-white glory at the base of azalea bushes, dwarf hollies, and juniper. Clematis vined over mailboxes, geraniums grew in oak tubs on porches, and lavender phlox marched along sidewalks.
A good place to raise children, Jake thought. Good schools, good people. He could easily afford to buy the Cape Cod, and with three bedrooms and bath upstairs, it was large enough for a whole passel of kids. He wondered about Amy’s views on having a family. Maybe she wanted a career. That was okay. Whatever Amy wanted. If they couldn’t have kids, they’d raise dogs.
Amy felt contentment creeping into her. It radiated from Jake’s hand, up her arm to her heart. He was smiling, thinking secret thoughts, and he generated peace and well-being. She was an alarmist, she decided. A few cancellations didn’t mean the end of the world. She should listen to Jake. Everything would be fine. It was all absurd, anyway. Wasn’t it?
Jake’s hand tightened on hers. “What is it, Amy? What are you thinking? First, you’re tense, then you relax, then you’re tense. Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?”
“Remember I told you my dad was in the service? Well, when I was a kid, we were always moving. It seemed like I was constantly struggling to prove myself. I had to prove I was smart to new teachers. I had to prove I was trustworthy to new friends. Every time I reached that spot where things started to come together, we’d move. I developed a kind of sense about it, like an animal that can feel earth tremors before they’re recorded on a seismograph. I’d get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and sure enough, my dad would come home and announce his new orders. I keep getting that feeling, Jake. Little tremors. I can’t get rid of them.”
He didn’t know what to say. He could hear pain in her voice and wanted to soothe it away, but he’d felt the tremors, too. Probably that was why they were going out to dinner. A big loud show of happiness and solidarity. It’s like the big bad wolf trying to blow my house down, Jake thought. There was something out there, something foolish and threatening, and Jake hoped his good solid house of brick could withstand all that huffing and puffing. He drove past George Mason University and into the town of Fairfax. He turned onto a back street and parked in a small lot, pleased to see there wasn’t room for the van.
They walked hand in hand through a quaint alley to the sidewalk and the front of