"You didn't go to bed with ... ?"

"No." Did I really need to elaborate? Hadn't I been honest enough? Yes, I decided.

I stole a glimpse at Jack. I saw Jack's face tighten. Instead of hitting something, he looked like he himself had been hit. He was gripping the edge of the table.

"Is this someone... would this happen again?" he asked finally, his voice very hoarse.

"No," I told him. "Never."

Gradually, his grip on the table relaxed. Gradually, his face looked human.

"How old are you, Lily?" he asked, out of the blue.

"Thirty-one," I said. "Thirty-two, soon."

"I'm thirty-six." He took a deep breath. "We've both been through some times."

I nodded. Our names still cropped up in the news every now and then. ("After a brutal gang rape mirroring that of Memphis resident Lily Bard's, a Pine Bluff woman was admitted to University Hospital..." or "Today Undercover Officer Lonny Todd was dismissed from the Memphis police force after charges he had an improper relationship with an informant. Todd is the latest in a string of dismissals in the past four years on similar charges, beginning with the firing of Officer Jack Leeds, whose relationship with the wife of a fellow officer led to her murder.")

"This is the best I've ever had it," Jack said. He was turning white as a sheet, but he went on. "You had a..." and he floundered there, stuck for a word.

"I had a moment of sheer stupidity."

"Okay." He smiled, and it wasn't a funny smile. "You had a moment of stupidity. But it won't ever happen again, because you said it wouldn't and you always keep your word."

I hadn't ever thought of myself as the epitome of honor, but it was true that I kept my word. I was trying not to be surprised that Jack was being so calm and level about this.

He seemed to be waiting.

"I said it wouldn't," I repeated. "And I always keep my word."

Jack seemed to relax just a little. He gave himself a little shake, picked up his fork and took a bite of his pancake. "Just don't ever tell me who," he said, not looking at me.

"You're getting so wise." Jack had a real problem with impulse control.

"It's taken me long enough." But his smile this time was a real smile. "So, you never answered me."

I took a deep breath. "Yes. I want you to move in. Do you think we'll have enough room here?"

"Could I put an office in the exercise room?"

A little stunned by how easily it had been settled, I nodded silently. I'd hung a punch-and-kick bag in the middle of the second bedroom. I could live without it. I'd use the kicking pads in the aerobics room at Body Time.

Then I tried to imagine Jack sharing my bathroom full-time. It was very small, and counter space was next to none. I wondered what we would do with his furniture. How would we divide the bills?

We had just complicated our lives enormously, and I was scared of the change. There were so many details to work out.

"You don't look very happy," Jack said. He was eyeing me from the other side of the table.

"But I am." I smiled at him, and he got that witless look on his face again. "I'm scared, too," I admitted. "Are you, a little?"

"Yeah," He confessed. "It's been a while."

"At least one of us has had prior experience. I've never done this."

Jack took a deep breath. "Would you rather just go on and get married?" he asked, every muscle in his body rigid. "That might be good, huh?"

I had to take my own deep breath while I groped for the right words to tell him what I felt. I hate explaining myself, and only the fact that I simply couldn't hurt Jack impelled me go through the discomfort of it.

"If it wasn't for other people, I would marry you today," I said slowly. "You know how happy the papers would be if they found out? You know how people would pat us on the backs and congratulate us? ‘Those two poor wounded souls, they've found each other.' "

Jack's face was beginning to collapse, so I hurried on with the rest. "But that's no reason for us to bypass any happiness we can have. You know what I would really like? I'd like to be married to you with not another soul in the world knowing about it, at least until it was old news."

Jack didn't know if I'd said yes or no. He was struggling to understand. I could tell by the way he learned toward me, his eyes focused on my face.

"It would be just for us," I said, sure I'd failed in what I was trying to convey. I had always been a private person.

"Married is what you would like?"

"Yes," I said, surprised at myself. "That's what I would like."

"To be kept secret?"

"Just for a while. I'd just like to get used to it before we told anyone."

"Now?"

"No." I shrugged. "Anytime. But they put the names of people who've applied for marriage licenses in the paper. How could we get around that? Providing you... ?" I felt very anxious as I waited for him to speak.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I'd like that, too." He looked sort of surprised to discover that he would, though. He put his hand over mine where it was resting on the table. "Soon," he finished.

I tried to imagine that Jack did not feel about me the way I felt about him. I tried picturing Jack tiring of me in a month or two, opting for some woman in Little Rock who was more convenient and less prickly. I projected myself into that position of pain and rejection.

But I couldn't imagine it,-

I didn't count on much in this life, but I counted on Jack's love. Though he'd just confessed it this morning, I'd known Jack loved me, and I'd known it with certainty.

I wasn't going to jump up and down and scream and run home to tell my mother we needed to pick out china and reserve the church. The time in my life I might have done that had long since passed by. Now that I had Jack, I had everything I needed. I didn't need the congratulations and gifts of other people to confirm that.

"Damn," Jack said, grinning like a maniac. He jumped up and began swinging his arms as if he didn't quite know what to do. "Damn!"

I felt as radiant as if I'd been painted with light. Without knowing I was standing or moving I found myself glued to Jack from head to foot, our arms wrapped around each other, the smiles on our faces too silly for words.

We'd always had electricity between us, and the high emotion we felt turned us into dynamos.

We celebrated exceptionally well.

Afterward, the kitchen was in an even worse mess. Since he'd cooked, I cleaned while Jack made the bed. Then, with the unusual prospect of a free day stretching ahead of us, we decided to take a walk together.

It was a perfect morning, both in the perimeters of our life together and in the weather outside. The spring morning was just warm enough, and the sky was bright and clear. I hadn't felt this way in years. I hadn't even come close. I was so happy it almost hurt, and I was scared to death.

After we'd gone a few blocks, I began telling Jack about Deedra. I told him about the new sheriff, and her brother; about Lacey asking me for help, and the embarrassing items I'd found in Deedra's apartment; about Becca and Janet and the funeral, and the fire at Joe C's house; about the will Bobo had read when he was prying in the rolltop desk.

"Joe C's not leaving Calla anything?" Jack was incredulous. "After she's taken care of him for the past fifteen years or however long he's been too frail?"

"At least fifteen," I said. "According to what she's told me. He's leaving the more distant kids, the great-niece and great-nephews—Bobo, Amber Jean, and Howell Three, the Winthrop kids—an item of furniture apiece. Of course, that's probably not going to happen now, though there may be something worth saving in the house. I don't know. And the direct descendants are going to split the proceeds from the sale of the house."

"Who are the direct descendants again?"