“I don’t know why I still love you, Bobo,” she said quietly. “But I do. I do love you. I always have. All these years, I’ve loved you. With joy, Bobo. With joy.”

We made love—slowly, wonderfully, discovering one another with bodies that were young and powerful from the memory of another time. She was as giving as I had always known she would be. We moved from the den to her bed and we lay close and we talked and we touched and we did not sleep. She wore her silver necklace with the blue love stone. We watched the graying of morning from the window and we made love again.

As I was leaving, after a shower and breakfast, Amy asked, “Do you have any regrets?”

“No,” I told her. “Do you?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve wanted last night since we said good-bye in Avrum’s room. I don’t think that day has ever left me.”

CHAPTER

17
 

LILA WAS SITTING ON THE FRONT PORCH OF THE INN, SMOKING a cigarette, drinking coffee, an eager smile set deep into her face.

“Well?” she said.

“Are you going to lecture me?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied playfully. “Why don’t you just lie to me and get it out of the way.”

I sat in a lounge chair beside her, rooting my shoulders against the cushion. She poured a cup of coffee from the thermos she had with her.

“I’m afraid I fell asleep on the sofa,” I said. “Too much wine, too much good talk. Amy threw a blanket over me and let me sleep it off.”

Lila laughed and handed me the coffee. “Oh, that’s good, Bobo. Very well done. I almost believe you. I don’t, but I almost do. But I can give you some advice.”

“I’m sure you can, and you will.”

“If you ever try that same bullshit on Carolyn, don’t show up with your hair still damp from the shower. In fact, don’t even take a shower. I can smell the soap, and I know it’s not the same cheap brand we supply.”

I laughed. “I pity Sammy,” I said. “By the way, where is he?”

“Still asleep. He worked most of the night and then waited up to show you his latest creation.”

“Amy?” I asked.

“If it is, I don’t think she’s going to age very well. I took a peek this morning.” She pushed her cigarette dead in the ashtray. “But speaking of other women in your life, I think you’d better get inside and give the one in Georgia a call.”

I sat up. “Carolyn called?”

“Up until one o’clock. She wasn’t a happy camper, Bobo.”

“What did you tell her?”