Chapter 13
Post was somewhat edgy about the prospects of the evening ahead of them. Only two days had elapsed since the "interview" with Lou Kelly. June had stuck close to home as if she were frightened to trust herself yet in the outside world. Still, the invitation had come from their brand new neighbors, the Larks....
Phil and Aileen Lark had purchased their split level a few months back and had been moving in a few pieces of furniture at a time ever since. They had taken up residence the day of the interview and tonight were throwing a house warming, get acquainted party. Post had wanted to ask for a raincheck on the invitation but June begged that they go. "Aileen Lark is Japanese, Stu. I think it's important that we welcome them to the neighborhood. And frankly, I'm dying to meet her. I met some oriental girls in college but they never invited me to their homes. She says it's going to be a suklyaki supper. It should be great fun."
Professionally speaking, it was also too good to miss. Joe and Ethel Prantis were going to be there and the Edwards, whom Post was curious to know better.
Dinner began with a forced joviality and Post soon noticed that Phil Lark was going to great pains to nurse one cocktail through the preliminary chatting and nibbling of hors d'oeuvres.
Mr. Edwards was all about the house, admiring the Oriental paintings and jade statuary. Gail and Lyle Windover had both requested to see the Lark's son, Peter.
"The little fellow has a lot of his mother's characteristics," Windover said, causing another moment of tension.
The Prantises arrived a few minutes late and when Post noticed Ethel he felt uneasy. There was no mistaking the fact that her dress was expensive and well tailored. But it was tight. Ethel's bosom was erect, calling for an attention it deserved. The dress was tight across the hips, casting a long, smooth line from the curve of her hip to her knee with each step she took. When she sat, the hem of the skirt came above her knees, emphasizing the sleekness of her legs.
She was surprised to find herself outdone in this category by Aileen Lark, who wore the Hongkong brocade dress that hugged tightly about the bosom and hips, then came to an abrupt end at knee level. There was an additional styling of a slash at each side, running from just below the pelvis to the hem of the skirt, exposing a good portion of her thigh and leg with every step she took. This had a haunting effect. With her black silk stockings and white silk pumps, Aileen Lark's lovely legs were shown to perfection.
Post noticed Edwards licking his chops in anticipation and he wondered how soon it would be before he had a pleasant chat with Aileen, in which he proposed taking some pictures of her in this striking dress.
But Post also noticed that June's female dander had been threatened. She was not going to be outdone by Ethel Prantis. June wore a short skirt that hugged at her hips and a sheer silk cotton blouse through which one could easily see her flowery undergarments.
Post wished he wasn't involved with the professional aspect of this night. It should be an evening of fun, not work. Just as soon as he and June settled their problems, he determined to resign.
The dinner was served Japanese style, with the main dishes being suklyaki and a delicate fish dish Aileen called tempura. Post found himself seated between June and Ethel. Throughout the course of the meal, Ethel was quite attentive to him which seemed to annoy June considerably.
The food was good. The suklyaki had a rich, savory sauce tinged with ginger. Of the group, Lyle Windover was the only one who absolutely refused to try chopsticks.
Mrs. Edwards got giddy from drinking the saki, but the rice wine found great favor with the others. Dessert was served back in the living room, mandarin oranges that had been soaked in champagne.
After the dessert, Aileen Lark gave each couple an individual flagon of warmed saki, then placed a bowl of steamed napkins with herbs on the table.
When the napkins had been removed, Aileen Lark sat next to her husband. Post saw what was going to happen and was slightly amused.
The main form of entertainment now was to be conversation. The Larks were good at it. They began with questions about local politics and newspapers, drawing Joe Prantis and Mr. Edwards into interesting digressions.
Post began to feel truly comfortable with the Larks, particularly when he saw how skillfully they manipulated the conversation so that each person in the room had an opportunity to perform for a time.
Phil Lark told an amusing anecdote about silk importers. Aileen played an Oriental instrument, the sami-sen, just long enough to arouse everyone's interest.
But the entire conversational gambit electrified the group and by the time Aileen refilled the saki flagons, Post had the distinct impression that they were all enjoying themselves more than they had in several months.
When the second round of saki was out, the converations began breaking up into small groups. Aileen and Phil Lark had one interesting effect which got through to Post. They sat close to each other, actually holding hands. Their affection was obvious. And the effect, Post noticed, was that all the other couples followed suit.
Ethel Prantis, he noticed, was positively radiant when Joe impulsively kissed her on the chin. Post was amazed at how perceptive Ethel was about her own problems. She delighted in being able to pour more saki for Joe, to light his cigarette, to hold his hand. At length, Joe participated in a long conversation with Phil Lark, his hand resting on Ethel's knee. Post watched the effect on Ethel. She sat obediently next to Joe, taking in his every word.
The Lark's idea of entertainment had a far reaching effect. It was the first time Post had seen Coolanre Heights, people content not to be milling about restlessly, looking for something new to do.
At ten-thirty Aileen brought out a huge bowl of fresh pineapple and strawberries, encouraging everyone to help themselves.
Post was surprised to find June sitting on his lap. The Larks were dancing, which prompted Joe and Ethel Corwin to follow. Post asked June if she'd like to dance, but for an answer, she kissed him. He wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps she wanted to try again. Perhaps it was the saki and the champagne soaked fruit having their effect on her. Whatever it was, June was very ardent. In the darkness, she directed Post's hand to her breast. He fondled it for a moment, then kissed her. He could see the outline of Joe and Ethel Prantis, paused in their dancing to partake of a long kiss, their bodies pressed close together.
June whispered into Post's ear. "Tonight, the married folks seem to be awfully attractive to each other."
"Must be the atmosphere," Pos said.
"Must be the choice of mates," June said, a note of gaiety in her voice.
She snuggled closer to him. "There's an interesting magic in intimacy, Stu. All it takes is a touch to set it off. I'm glad I know so much about you."
Post tingled. He wasn't sure where the tingle came from or what it meant. On the surface, it was recognizable. June's dark hair had brushed his cheek. But then, her whispered voice had been tinged with playfulness and mischief, brought on, no doubt, by the saki she'd drunk and, as she'd said, the magic of their being close together.
He could not help thinking about kissing as he watched Joe and Ethel Prantis, nor could he avoid the thought when June brushed her lips against his cheek. Her arms wound about him. Post realized what was happening. He and June were necking.
His hands moved slowly over her back and shoulders. She sighed happily, shifting her weight to be more comfortable. He let one hand rest on her knee and they both sensed that this did not mean he was going to begin probing.
He felt comfortable and happy, touching his lips to hers, using his hand to stroke the lobe of her ear.
"Fun party," June said.
"Yes," he agreed.
"Fun husband, too. I love you, Stu."
The glow was even stronger with him. June began humming along with the music from the phonograph and Post knew she was at the state of intoxication best described as being tight. The barriers were down. She was like a small kitten who can trust its surroundings enough to sleep on its back with its paws splayed out to the side with no fear for its vulnerable belly.
It seemed to Post that only a few minutes had passed, but he knew it must have been much longer. Phil Lark evidently had learned some Japanese from his wife. He went to the center of the room and recited these words, "Kyo-wa otoko desu." He kissed Aileen and there was an appreciative round of applause from the other couples.
Post believed this was a way of announcing that the party was over and that Lark now wanted to be alone with Aileen. When he helped June up, he noticed that the Prantises, too, were ready to leave. Then, he suffered his first pang. There was no doubt in Post's mind what the Prantises would be doing. He was jealous. This gradual build up of awareness of June would be dissipated.
"I wonder how many babies will be started tonight," June said as they walked home.
The night was balmy. A warm Santa Ana wind came in from the desert. Trees rustled in the breeze and an occasional leaf clattered on the walk in front of them. The stars appeared frozen in the sky and of all of them, Venus shown the most brilliantly.
He walked with his arm about June. Her arm was about his and he thought how much like a bunch of teenagers they were, entranced with the magic of being together. He thought about all they'd had to drink and realized it had helped. June knew what she was doing and she wouldn't have acted this way with anyone else. The champagne and saki had simply removed the barriers.
Post wanted to prolong this delightful feeling of walking through the dimly lit street, past the other split-level homes, up the hill toward their own.
June weaved unsteadily, bumped into him several times. They paused to kiss under the glow of a street light. He felt her rub against him. "Oh, I do love you," she said.
When they reached their house, June was all over Post, kissing him and leaning against him while he fit the key into the door. His expectations had been gradually built up again, leading him to think that this, perhaps, was another chance. The time to strike was now, while June was like this, her guard down, her senses out in the open.
He led her quickly into the living room without bothering to flick on the lights. June sat on the sofa and began to giggle. June snuggled close to him. Their lips met in a moment of liquid warmth. "Please, Stu, let's try again," he heard June say.
He began unbuttoning her blouse. She responded with a murmur of pleasure. After a moment, she nudged closer to him and helped him remove her brassiere. He began caressing her and June's soft moaning became rythmic, almost a faint purr.
Post touched her legs and felt the quiver of happiness run through her. Spurred on by his vision of success, he unhitched the waitsband of her skirt. His hand moved in against the warm, bare flesh of the small of her back. He could feel the bony ridge of spine and the touch immediately evoked a vision of June's back, slender and attractive, the shoulder blades protruding just perceptibly.
The touch and the vision made him think of a word, used by a friend of his in a book. A four letter, Anglo-Saxon word. Post smiled. The language had a certain functional beauty about it. Frot. To render supple by rubbing. That was what was happening to June, all right. The feel of her warm skin, becoming supple under his touch excited him.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder, his face brushing her hair. He inhaled the pleasant scent and experienced a long moment of pleasure and a feeling of protectiveness toward her.
He kissed the underside of her chin. June responded with a dreamy moan. Post lowered them to a reclining position and began stroking her thighs. June moved again. Post touched her pelvis. There was no response and for a moment, he was puzzled. But then he thought he must not expect too much. Meeting no resistance was enough, He touched her again, and then, witth searing, maddening certainty, he knew why there had been no response.
June was asleep.