I had no idea if my voice would work.“Dan?” I whispered. “What are you doing?”I felt a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m holding you, Bec,” he whispered into my hair. “That’s what I’m doing.”It took me a moment to figure out how to respond to that.“Why?”“Because I think you need holding,” he said – still talking into my hair. I could feel his breath pushing at the back of my head. I could feel his lips brushing against me. I could feel my hair being moved as he pushed his face into the back of my head.“But...” I said.I had no idea how to finish the sentence.How could I have been so stupid?“You don’t hate me?” I whispered, my voice trembling.“I love you,” said Dan. “I love you totally and unconditionally.”“But I...”Pesky sentence – it still refused to have an ending.“Shh!” he whispered and kissed my head. “It was a mistake, nothing more.”Is that what it was? A mistake?I watched Mum cheerfully pushing paint around on the wall. Behind Mum, sprawled out on her red velvet sofa, that other. It was apparent to Ken from the tears rolling down their cheeks, coupled with the intensity with which the women were gripping each other's wrist, that it must be terribly painful. The two men remained out of their wives' sight line and watched as the Vietnamese girls finished up. Finally they put their weight back on their heels and admired their handiwork.The two women sat up and carefully studied themselves and each other. Then Kathy asked, "Hank, do you think Ken will like it? I think it looks pretty neat." Ken thinks his wife is the most beautiful thing on two legs — with or without a couple of stray pubic hairs," he said, dropping to his knees beside her. Taking her into his arms he asked, "Why, Kathy? Jim and I could see that you and Hank were in agony. Why did you do it?"She melted her lips against his in a kiss that was loaded with passion. With her eyes still glazed she asked, "Do you remember Sam's story about Hank and the salt and pepper? Darling, the object is to be more.
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