Chapter 6
"As far as I'm concerned," Mayor Paulson stated, "a social worker who was fired for inefficiency is not the sort of person I would want to serve on City Council with me.
"The business of running a city does not allow for individuals who feel they stand above the law. I'm sure Miss Tupper will win many votes because she pretends to be a dedicated David fighting the Goliath of City Hall, but I'm equally sure that the people of our city will not be easily fooled.
"We need mature, responsible people on City Council and I'm confident that the people who elect their aldermen will not be taken in by this obvious play to the emotions.
"Alderman Carter has represented that ward over the years with honest dedication. I am convinced that the people who are familiar with his record will return him to office and ignore the publicity seeking candidate who had already shown that she cannot conform to the laws by which we are governed."
"Are you saying that Miss Tupper broke the law?" the mayor was asked.
"I'd rather not answer that," Mayor Paulson replied.
There was more, but Wanda didn't want to read it. She had read more than enough to tell her that she was right in the middle of an even dirtier campaign than she had bargained for. At no point of his speech had the mayor touched on his policy in the forthcoming campaign. Instead, with shrewd political cunning, he had set out to destroy her reputation even before the campaign got underway so that she would pose no threat to an already-in-the-bag alderman who would do as he was told.
As she walked out to the balcony while fighting to control all the anger that welled up in her as she read the newspaper report, Wanda saw that this was only the beginning.
By daring to challenge the establishment, she had left herself wide open to any kind of attack Mayor Paulson and his friends chose to launch at her. One answer was obvious. She could drop the campaign and ignore the barbs.
Her teaching at the School of Social Work was providing more than a full measure of satisfaction. Intelligent young people who really wanted to learn how to help their fellow man were coming to her to be shown how to do their job. The whole political thing, she told herself, was rough and dirty and something she didn't know how to cope with. It would be so easy to just drop it.
But how, she asked herself, would she tell Mike Hanson and Sam Gold that she had decided to quit? How would she be able to look the mayor in the eye next time she met him if she admitted that he had scared her out of the fight?
In that moment, Wanda knew that instead of quitting, she would fight even harder. She hadn't asked to be brought into the muck raking battle of municipal politics, but having declared herself a candidate, there was no alternative but to fight just as hard as her opponents. Mike and Sam had shown enough faith in her to press her into action, she was going to have to justify that faith now.
The early morning air was just crisp and clean enough to inspire her in the way she needed. She heard the phone ringing and decided to answer it rather than letting the answering service run interference for her.
When the voice on the other end introduced himself as being a reporter from the Sun, Wanda was glad of her decision. Despite not having taken time to prepare a statement, she gave him one and sensed that it was just right.
"I've never been terribly impressed by the mayor's sense of truth or fair play," she told the caller. "If he feels I have broken any law, then he is either a bad mayor or a fool not to insist that charges be laid against me.
"After all, if the mayor doesn't respect the law, how can he even hope to provide an example to the citizens he pretends to represent? I rather suspect that Mayor Paulson knows I have broken no laws and that his statement reflects his fear of having me on council where I can keep an eye on him. Perhaps he doesn't know how to cope with honesty."
"Are you suggesting," the reporter asked anxiously, "that the incumbent in your ward is not honest?"
"Heavens, no," Wanda replied quickly, "I don't feel that Mister Carson understands the people of the ward completely, but I wouldn't presume to rule on his honesty. Perhaps you should ask the mayor that question. He seems to have all the answers to the question of people's honesty and integrity."
"Do you feel the mayor is a man of honesty and integrity, Miss Tupper?" the reporter persisted.
"Let's just say that if I did, then I'd support him in the coming election," Wanda answered with complete poise.
"And do you intend to support him?"
"Let's just say that my energies will be concentrated in other directions," Wanda replied.
"You sound like a politican, Miss Tupper?" the man followed up.
"Shouldn't I?" she asked innocently. "I intend to be one."
"Can you see yourself running for the mayor's office at some future date?" he asked.
"I doubt it," Wanda answered quickly. "If I felt I were needed in that office, perhaps I would, but almost anyone I can think of would be an improvement over the leadership we have at present so I think I'll be content to settle for that. I'm prepared to make my contribution as an alderman."
"But suppose," he persisted, "charges are laid against you, Miss Tupper. How do you think that will influence your campaign?"
"When did you stop beating your wife, Mr. Burtch?" Wanda asked in her sweetest tone.
She heard the reporter chuckle as he hung up the phone after thanking her for the interview. Instead of congratulating herself on the way she had handled him, Wanda found herself wondering what had happened to the reporters who used to actually go out looking for their stories. There was something about a reporter who just sat in his office and phoned for an interview that failed to impress her. Somehow, she couldn't see Mike Hanson doing it that way.
Wanda got dressed in a hurry then, but by the time she left, she was still in danger of being late for her first class. Once again, she broke the speed limit by a bit in order to get to the school on time.
While her class waited, Wanda took time to tell Sam Gold about her interview. She could tell by the way he broke up that she had said the right things.
"Cheer up, Wanda," he laughed, "you're a born politician. On your way to school this morning, you picked up another couple of hundred votes just like that."
"Are you sure I handled it right? I mean, you wouldn't just say that to make me feel good, would you?"
"Not on your life, I wouldn't," he assured her. "If I catch you off base before election day, I'll tell you. We want you on Council, Wanda. Keep it up and you'll make it."
Her classes went well that morning and by lunch time Wanda was sure that everything was nicely under control. She considered the possibility that she had pushed Mayor Paulson to the point where he would have to press charges or have Chief Markey do it, but even that couldn't scare her.
She wasn't even surprised when Mike Hanson dropped around to have lunch with her and Sam in the cafeteria. He was absolutely glowing and she sensed that her interview had a lot to do with it. Sam had obviously filled him in on it. It gave her just the added touch of confidence she needed to play at the game of politics.
If her students sensed that their lecturer was really scintillating that afternoon when Wanda took her classes, it was a reflection on their perception. She really was.
The mood of elation was still with her as she drove away from the school and headed home. There was a good book waiting for her and all of the evening to just rest and relax. She couldn't ask for more than that.
As she turned into the apartment parking lot, Wanda saw a car that had been parked at the curb come to life and follow her. For just one moment, she felt a hint of panic. As quickly as it came though, it passed. This, she told herself, is one of those days when nothing can bother me.
When she stepped out of her car, she turned to see Art Bowman pushing his way out of his. His smile told her he was really enjoying the shock he had given her.
He had left the city three days ago and wasn't due back for at least a couple of weeks.
"Hi, beautiful," he called. "How was school today?"
"Art, what on earth are you doing in town today? You're supposed to be five hundred miles away."
"Is that a complaint?" he asked with his infectious grin. "If so, I suppose I can get back in my car and just drive out of your life forever."
"Turn it off, you fraud," she scolded. "Come on up and let me pour a drink all over you."
"Now that's my idea of a really warm reception," he answered seriously. I think politics is a good idea for you. It teaches you to say the right thing."
"Turn it off, Bowman," she tried to hide her smile of delight, "start telling me what you're doing here."
"If I did, you wouldn't pay attention anyway," he said as he tucked her arm into his while they walked toward the entrance to the building.
"Try me," she challenged.
"Okay," he shot back. "I came to ask you to marry me."
"Keep that up, Buster, and you won't even get that drink I promised you."
"Okay grouch, then stop asking me questions if you don't want to hear the answers."
Although they continued their good natured kidding all the way up on the elevator, Wanda sensed a seriousness in the man that he was trying to keep hidden for the time being.
Pouring a drink for him, she left him while she went to her room for a change of clothes. Changing wasn't really that important, but it would give her a few minutes alone to prepare for what Art was going to say and what she would answer.
During their night together, he had become pretty insistant with his campaign that she should agree to marry him. The following morning, they discussed it again while she sat on the side of the bed drinking coffee with him.
For the first time, she felt herself wavering. Was he right, she wondered when he said that their relationship had already reached the mature married stage? Was that why the bells and rockets weren't in evidence? Did she really love him after all?
If I do, she realized with something of a shock, then there's no reason in the world why I shouldn't marry him. We're good for each other in bed, we're ideally suited intellectually, we like and dislike a lot of the same things.
The more she thought of it, the more Wanda was faced with the stunning possibility that she would indeed marry Art and should have long ago. If I had, she thought, my life would be completely different now. One thing for sure, she told herself, I wouldn't be messing around in the muck of civic politics.
Although she hadn't intended doing it, Wanda decided to strip off her bra and panties as well and change all the way. Because of the dress she had worn that day, she had worn a lightweight Lycra girdle. That had to go.
She didn't know whether or not they would make love before the evening was over, but in case they did, she didn't want to have to mess around with a girdle. Most men, she sensed, don't like the idea of girdles at all.
Selecting a matching black bra, garter belt and panties, she began to dress. When they were in place and her nylons had been attached to the suspenders, she stopped in front of the mirror for a quick check of her assets.
Not bad at all for an old woman of twenty-seven, she congratulated herself. Getting a bit plump around the asset, she noted critically, but Art doesn't seem to mind. Remembering some of the glances she attracted on the street and at parties, she was satisfied that there were no grounds for complaint.
As she finished dressing, Wanda thought of how patient Art always was. Most men, she knew, would have become impatient about the length of time she had been in her room to get changed. They would be calling their supposedly funny comments about what she was doing and generally acting like bad mannered little boys waiting for their dessert without very good grace.
Still, she told herself, there's no point in pushing my luck. In front of the mirror, she patted her dress into place, decided she looked just fine and went back to meet him. Only then did she realize that she hadn't gotten around to the decisions she was supposed to be making. That was supposed to have been the main purpose of the time out in her bedroom, but somehow or other, it just hadn't worked out.
Welcoming her back, Art made no comment at all about the time she had taken. He did comment on the results though.
"I've seen them all, Wanda, and you're still, pound for pound the most beautiful."
"Thank you, kind sir," she curtsied, "but watch that emphasis on the pounds. I'm getting a bit sensitive about that."
"Then in spite of appearances, you're a dope. I like my women to look as if they've just had a good spaghetti dinner."
"All of your women, Art?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.
"All of them, Miss Tupper. As soon as you agree to marry me, all becomes one. Until then, I'm free to sharpen my technique by playing the field and picking any pretty little flowers that happen to strike my fancy."
"I'll strike your fancy, you playboy," she glowered as she took his empty glass from him and turned to pour a refill for him and one for herself.
Nursing their drinks, they sat on the couch then and began to discuss plans for the evening.
"How long are you staying, Art?" she asked. "Do you have to go back this evening, or are you staying on for a while?"
"I'm not being coy, darling, trust me," he replied. "But I just don't know right now. At any rate, I've left the empire in good shape so that it won't fall apart if I'm not at my desk bright and early in the morning."
Wanda wanted to fix dinner in the apartment, but Art wouldn't hear of it.
"You look much too beautiful to mess around with greasy pots and pans," he insisted. "We go out to eat. I'll buy you the best dinner this old town has to offer."
By way of compromise, they decided finally to go to a nearby place where they could get a good meal and good drinks without having to spend the whole evening at it.
When they finished their drinks, they were on their way. So far, Wanda noticed, he had said nothing to tip his hand about the reason for the surprise visit. That, she assumed, would come when they returned to the apartment.
In spite of relaxing with a couple of cocktails and enjoying a very good dinner, they were back in the apartment before eight. When Wanda returned to the room after a brief absence, Art had poured a pair of drinks and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
He was sitting at one end of it, leaning back. As she sat beside him, he drew her close so that her head rested against his chest. Wanda decided it was a very comfortable place to be.
For a little while, he was silent. Wanda sensed that he needed help.
"You look much like a man with something on his mind, dear, care to talk?" she asked gently.
"You're so right, Wanda. Thanks for the assist. Will you try to keep on helping me."
Wanda squeezed his hand and that was all the encouragement he needed.
"You know, Wanda, I've asked you so often to marry me that it's become a sort of a standing joke. I guess that's pretty much my fault. It may have been funny at one time, but now it isn't."
"I'm sorry, Art," Wanda brushed her hand along his cheek and felt the faint trance of stubble. "I guess we both fell into that trap."
"It isn't surprising though," he went on. "We just went about things backwards. With other people, they fall in love and go to bed and eventually, they get married. Some of them even marry before going to bed, I'm told, but I can't approve of that.
"Anyway, we first went to bed as friends because we liked each other. Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with you and whether or not you know it, I think you came to love me as well.
"By that time though, we had established a nice little pattern of comfortable friendship and it was difficult then for us to realize that love really had taken over.
"How am I doing so far?" he looked at her with a loving smile. "Do you agree with at least part of my logic?"
"I agree with it so much, dear, that it frightens me a bit. If you're right, and I see the darndest probability that you are, then it means my feminine instinct must have been out to lunch for one hell of a long time."
"Never mind the blame," he squeezed her affectionately, "just shut up and say you love me."
"Wouldn't that be a bit difficult?" Wanda asked, her eyes shining. "I mean if I shut up I won't be able to say anything."
Turning her in his arms, Art delivered a brisk spank.
"That will teach you to get smart assed when a man is trying to propose to you."
"I'm not so sure I'd want to marry a wife beater after all," she pouted as she rubbed the spanked cheek.
"You ain't seen nothing yet, lady," he glared menacingly. "If you don't say you love me and will marry me, you're going to get a real spanking with your dress and panties well out of the line of fire."
"Do you mean that?" Wanda turned on her very best look of damsel in distress.
"Absolutely," he snapped. "Marry me or I'll make you think you've caught fire back there."
"Well, darling," she shrugged, "that isn't where you usually make me feel on fire, but I guess it's better than nothing. I do love you, darling, and I realize that I have for a long time. I'd be happy to marry you even if it were not for your terrible threat."
"Do you mean that, Wanda?" There was no smile now. He had heard the words he wanted, but now he couldn't believe it.
As her face moved up to his, Wanda took time to whisper a quick message.
"Yes, my darling I do mean it. Now please take me to bed and make love to the future Mrs. Bowman. Show me what it's going to be like when we're married."
She kissed him warmly then and her arms crept around his neck. All of a sudden, Wanda felt more secure and more a woman than she ever had.
When their kiss ended, they got off the couch and walked hand in hand into the bedroom.
This time, Wanda didn't want to play the girlish game of having him remove her clothes a little at a time. This time, she was all woman.
As she began undressing, she saw that he was doing the same. His expression was one of contentment and she knew that hers matched it.
When nothing remained but her bra and panties, Wanda was shocked to discover that she felt a flash of nervousness. In spite of the fact that they had made love so often, there was that persistent feeling of nervousness, almost shyness as she prepared to bare her body to give it to her man, the man who would be her husband.
Art had finished undressing. He stood watching as she slipped her bra off. His eyes were the eyes of a man very much in love and very proud of the beauty of his woman. He told her of her beauty in a million ways as she dropped the bra to the chair and reached for the waistband of her panties to slip them down her strong, smooth thighs.
When she was naked, she didn't have to take a step. He came to her quickly and drew her into his arms for a long, passionate embrace.
Picking her up then, he held her that way as he looked at her for a long time before lowering her gently to the bed.
In a little while, both knew, they would make love and it would be better than ever. For now though, there were so many things to do, so many delicious ways of saying T love you'.
His hand cupped a warm, full breast and carried it to his waiting mouth. There, the erect tip responded immediately and grew as their newly discovered love was growing. Her voice made small, soft sounds of approval and delight, her body was throbbing and his felt and understood the silent message.
His kiss moved down slowly covering every inch of her warm, silken body. When he sought new places to adore with his mouth, she raised and turned her body to help him and tell him how much she wanted what he was doing to her.
Inevitably, his lips moved down the slope of her slightly rounded tummy. His hands were under her, raising her body to meet him. As her thighs lifted, they parted wide. In doing so, they told him that more than anything, she wanted the kiss he was preparing to give her.
She felt his lips then and a glad cry broke from her throat. In the way of woman, her body pressed urgently against him, her thighs brushed his face with a silken kiss and she returned the kiss of his lips in full measure.
"Now my darling," she almost cried her invitation, "now."
He moved slowly back up in the bed and found her lovely thighs still open in erotic invitation. His body moved against hers then, his hand reached between them. They were ready.
She cried out again in a little while and it was another cry of joy and love. After that, they rested for a little while.
There were things to be discussed about the future, but they had to wait for a while.