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sting for a while about what we did, but you'll get over it. Nothing happened, Lang. We just made love.
People do it all the time. No big deal."
"It was to me," he said shortly, glowering down at her. "And if it was no big deal, why haven't you done
it before now with some other man?"
She leaned her head against the seat and looked at him quietly. "You know why. You've always known.
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It's because I belong to you."
His heart shivered in his chest. He couldn't look at her again. She was tying him in knots, but they were
of his own making.
He didn't want her to belong to him. He didn't want to be a prisoner of his conscience or even of love.
She withdrew her hand and looked out the windshield. She'd embarrassed him. At the very least, she'd
made him uncomfortable. "Don't torture yourself," she said quietly. "I'm not asking for anything."
"I know that," he said tersely.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the company and the darkness as they sped toward Floresville. If only
they could keep driving forever, she thought. It would be lovely not to have to go back to all her
problems and the future, when Lang would be out of her life again, and forever this time.
She was dreaming. Lang had made love to her, and they were sprawled under a big oak tree by a
beautiful stream in a meadow, holding each other. He was whispering how much he loved her...
"Will you wake up?" he demanded curtly, shaking her. "We're here, and all hell has broken loose from
the sound of things!"
She sat up, her dream shattered by his harsh tone. "What?" she asked, confused.
"Listen!"
The car was sitting in the driveway of the old Victorian house where the Pattons lived. A loud
voice Bob's was disclaiming some accusation that came from Connie. In the background, a soft
Spanish voice was trying to assert reason.
"Housekeeper, my blue elbow! You were kissing her!" Connie was raging.
"I was holding her while she cried, because you hurt her feelings!" Bob yelled. All three of them were
outlined on the front porch. "You didn't have to accuse her of being a home-wrecker!"
"Well, she is!" Connie said. "She's even taken over Mikey! He wants Teresa to read to him, he wants
Teresa to take him to school, he wants Teresa to sit by him when we eat.. .he'smy son!"
"He'd never know it, would he, when you've got your nose stuck in engines all day and half the night!"
"Oh!" Connie threw up her hands and started to say something else when she noticed the car in the
driveway. She smoothed down her greasy coveralls and glanced from the car to Bob.
"Lang!" his brother exclaimed, grateful for the diversion. "Lang, is that you?"
"Looks like it," Lang said ruefully. He got out and waited for Kirry to join him at the steps. "We just got
engaged and thought we'd come and tell you. This doesn't look like the best time for an announcement."
"Engaged?" Connie stumbled. "You and Kirry? Again?"
"We weren't actually engaged then," Lang said irritably. "We were almost engaged."
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Connie's face softened. "Well, well. And when are you getting married, soon?"
"I wish everybody would stop asking that!" Lang burst out, running an irritated big hand through his hair.
"We haven't set a date," Kirry said quicklv. "It was very sudden. We haven't really had a lot of time to
talk about it, what with our jobs..."
"Well, of course they haven't," Bob told his wife. "Can't you stop throwing questions at them when
they've only just gotten here? Teresa, make some coffee and slice some cake, will you?!"
"Si, Senor Bob," Teresa's soft voice came back, followed by the scurrying of feet.
"She's a sweetheart," Bob said with a smile. It faded when he looked at his haggard wife. "She doesn't
think so. She doesn't even appreciate all the hard work Teresa does here to save her work."
"I'm sure Connie appreciates it, Bob," Kirry interjected. "Can we go inside? I'm cold."
"It's all but summer," Lang muttered. "How can you have chills?"
"Are you feverish?" Connie felt Kirry's forehead. "Not at all, thank goodness. You know, I had chills
when I got pregnant with Mikey..."
"There's no possibility whatsoever that Kirry's pregnant," Lang said shortly.
"Oh, I know that, for heaven's sake," Connie muttered at him. "I was just making a statement."
Lang flushed, but no one noticed except Kirry. She averted her eyes. They'd taken precautions, and it
had only been the one time. She couldn't be pregnant. The thing was, precautions did fail one time out of
a hundred.... But, no, she wouldn't think about it.
"This is Teresa." Bob introduced the young Mexican-American woman with a smile. His eyes were
twinkling as he looked at her."Ninita, éste es mi hermano, Lang."
"Mucho gusto enconocerlo, señor,"she said with a smile. She had a lovely round figure and big brown
eyes in a frame of long, jet black hair. She was a beauty. No wonder Connie was furious!
"Ymi," Lang replied."Se alegro de trabajar aquí, señorita?" he added.
"Oh, sí,"she said without enthusiasm, and she looked worried."Este familia es muy simpático,
especialamente el ninito."
She liked Mikey. She didn't mention liking Connie, who was glaring at everybody who spoke Spanish,
because she didn't.
"Speak English," Connie said harshly.
"She's learning. It takes time." Bob shot back the words. "Stop being so unpleasant!"
Connie put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I will not. You're imagining yourself in love with
her, aren't you?"
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Bob flushed. "For heaven's sake...!"
"Admit it, you coward!" Connie goaded him. "Come on, admit it!"
"She's a sweet, kind little thing who likes kids and housework and men!" he said finally, his dark eyes
glaring at her. "How do you expect me to feel about her, when my wife looks and smells like a grease pit
and never has time for me or her son?"
Connie gasped and suddenly turned and ran for the bedroom, where she slammed the door with a loud
sob.
Bob grimaced. "Now I've done it."
Lang and Kirry exchanged looks. "I think we picked a bad night to come," Lang began.
"There aren't any good ones," he muttered. He saw Teresa's huge eyes fill with tears and moved to put
an arm around her."No sea triste, amada,"he said softly."Todo es bien."
"Everything is not well," Lang replied darkly. "And she should be sad, since it seems to me that she's
about to break up your marriage. You're a married man. Bob. Why don't you act like it? The person
who needs comforting is your wife, not your housekeeper."
Bob's face flamed. He took his arm from around Teresa and glowered at Lang. "I don't need you to tell
me how to conduct my marriage!"
"No?" Lang looked past him. Connie was coming out of the bedroom with a suitcase in one hand and
Mikey by the other.
"Where are we going. Mom?" he asked sleepily.
"To my sister's!" she informed the world. She glared at Bob. "When you come to your senses, if you do,
I'll be at Louise's."
"What about your precious business out back?" he asked.
"Put up a Closed sign. You can spell that, can't you?"she asked sweetly. "In the meanwhile, Todd Steele
has a vacancy for a mechanic in his garage, and he'll hire me in a minute."
His eyes bulged. "I won't have you working for your ex-sweetheart who just got divorced!" he told her.
"Why not? I'm about to be divorced myself!"
"Connie!" he wailed.
"Mom, why are you yelling at daddy?" Mikey asked, still drowsy and not making much sense of the
confrontation.
"Because he's deaf," Connie replied, glaring at her husband. "He doesn't understand simple language like
'fire her'!"
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"You can't tell me who to fire in my own house," Bob informed her.
"It used to be my house, too, and Mikeys," Connie returned proudly. "Now it seems to be Teresa's."
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