(no subject)
“Goodness me!” said Gramma, flustered, wide-eyed. She was in her housecoat and cold cream, with her hair all up in curlers. “Sorry, sorry, didn’t realize you were both still out here, so sorry, oh my!”
She popped back in. The door clicked shut.
A second later, probably after some frantic indecisive dithering, the porch light switched off.
They were plunged into enveloping shadow.
Ammy and Arthur, who’d been standing there stunned speechless, continued standing there stunned speechless.
Finally, Ammy broke down and fell against Arthur’s chest, shaking so hard and making such hysterical gasping noises that at first he mistook the outburst for one of crying, and got alarmed.
“Hey,” he said, putting his arms around her, hugging her. “Hey, hey. C’mon. Are you …?”
Then he caught on that she was laughing, helplessly laughing until tears streamed down her face to wet the collar of his letter jacket.
“Oh-em-gee,” she wheezed, clinging to him. “What next? Alien invasion? Earthquake? Asteroid strike?”
Arthur laughed too, though sounding more relieved than amused. “No kidding, jeez.”
“Whew, gosh.” She got herself composed, then smiled at him, a trifle sadly. “It’s … not going to work, is it?”
Arthur paused. His laughter faded into a sigh. “Right now, this time?” He shrugged, and admitted, “Maybe not?”
She bit her lip. “Maybe not, yeah.”
He fished the car keys from his pocket, gave them to her. “Can … can I call you tomorrow?” he asked.
“I’d like that,” she said.
“Great.” He darted in quick to kiss her cheek. “’Night.”
“G’night.”
He dimpled, descended the steps in his light/fleet\catlike way, and went out through the gate. Ammy watched from the porch landing, hugging herself, head tipped to her own shoulder. At the end of the driveway, he looked back and waved. She waved in return.
But as he headed down the street in the direction of the train station, the upwelling emotion got too much for her and all at once she just couldn’t stand it any more. She plunged down the stairs, flung the gate open, and rushed after him.
“Arthur!”
At her anxious call, he stopped at once, turned eagerly around.
Penny loafers smacking the sidewalk, ponytail bouncing, skirt flying, Gramma’s keychain jangling in her fist, she ran up to him.
And, at the last minute, nerve failing. She stopped a few feet away, overcome with a blush.
“I … um …”
Blue eyes anxious, encouraging. “Yeah?”
“I … had just the … best time, the nicest time … tonight,” she said. Twining her free hand fitfully against her skirt. Only able to sneak bashful little glances at him.
“Me, too.” More dimples. “Time of my life.”
She blushed even more, ducking her head to hide her face. Her fingers twitched hesitantly, then crept out in a tentative, offering gesture. Arthur reached out at once, folding her hand into his as if they were about to dance. He gently drew her a step nearer.
“Amelia, I … really …” he began.
“Uh-huh …?”
“… really want to kiss you.”
“I want that too,” she said in a whispered rush.
He brought his other hand up, slowly, and stroked the back of it along her cheek. Ammy caught her breath and closed her eyes, turning her face into the caress. She pressed little half-kisses on his knuckles. Unable not to. Tears brimming behind her eyelids, good tears, hopeful, joyful, sweet and aching.
“And I really, really don’t want this to get messed up,” he murmured.
“You won’t let that happen.” She raised her gaze to him, with the faintest of smiles. “And even if you did, it’d be okay.”
“No … it wouldn’t be okay … but you’re right. I won’t let that happen.”
“I know.”
He leaned in.
So did she. Trembling. Clutching his fingers. Half-terrified - not just of asteroid strike or alien invasion or other obvious omen - and half-euphoric.
Then …
Oh, and then …
Their lips touched … met.
They kissed.
With an almost chaste reserve at first but … but that only lasted a heartbeat or so before surging into something that soared through her with a powerful, passionate, overwhelming intensity.
Ammy rose against him on tiptoe, simultaneously melting and shivering. She heard a small soft whimpering moan come from her throat, and Arthur answered with one of his own. He clutched her to him, crushed her to him. He felt it, too, his reaction as strong, so much pent-up feeling, so much denied.
If there had been an asteroid strike right then, they might not have noticed.
The keyring hit the sidewalk beside her shoe. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed into the embrace, giving herself fully over to this moment.
It was the idea of it as much as the physical, the idea of it thrilling in her mind even as the sensations thrilled in her nerves, that this was Arthur kissing her so hungrily, so thoroughly, Arthur’smouth so warm and wonderful on hers …
“Ohhh …” she sighed, when they eventually parted. “Do I faint now?”
“Do you think you might?” he asked, smiling, his arms still circling her waist.
She nodded, blinked. “Maybe a little?”
“If you need to, go ahead. I’ve got you.”
She laid her cheek on his shoulder instead, until the lightheadedness passed. “Okay … there we go …”
“So that means I can faint now?”
“Do you think you might?” she asked.
“Well, no. And I can still call you tomorrow?”
“Gosh yes, of course.”
“Then I will.” He crouched and came up with the dropped keys, returning them to her hand. “Goodnight, Amelia.”
“Goodnight,” she said.
At the end of the block, he turned again to wave. She waved back. Then he went around the corner and was gone from her sight.
Ammy brushed her fingertips across her lips, which still tingled from the long deep kiss, and assured herself that … yes … she was awake … and yes … it had happened.
For real … oh, finally, finally … for real.
**