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Foundations 6/6
Terry Odell (tlco777@JUNO.COM)Sun, 15 Jul 2001 15:19:36 -0400
Foundations By T. L. Odell Part 6/6 See Part 0 for Disclaimers The dance finished, and Kelly's color had improved. He gave her a questioning look, and she smiled and moved back to the VIPs. She seemed reasonably comfortable for the time being, and he enjoyed a dance or two with some of the other women at the party. Heading back to the bar, he found Kelly talking to a group of men, most of whom seemed to have been liberally partaking of the free drinks. "Kelly. There you are. Here's that drink you wanted," he said, intruding himself into the middle of the group, offering her his Scotch. "Excuse me," said one of the men, "but I was about to take this lovely lady to the dance floor." "I'm sorry, but I think she was waiting for me," Duncan replied. "No, I distinctly remember her promising me a dance, and it's time." "I'll be fine, Mac," Kelly said. "Next one will be yours." Duncan looked at her; she didn't look fine at all. But he knew she had something to prove to herself, so he nodded and stepped aside. Shortly into the dance, it became obvious that she was having trouble handling the boorish man. His hands reached for her buttocks; he held her far too close and spun her around with no apparent regard to the music. Duncan set down his drink, walked onto the dance floor and tapped the man on the shoulder. "I think you're bothering the lady. Let me cut in and there won't be a scene," he whispered. "Wait your turn, pretty boy." "I said, let me cut in," as he squeezed down hard on the man's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "I'm sure you wouldn't want me to tell Louise how you're behaving, now, would you? Or about Suzette?" The man released his hold on Kelly and stepped back, forcing a polite smile to his face. "She's all yours, sir." Duncan slipped his hands around her waist. Kelly was trembling; she seemed barely aware that Duncan had cut in. He supported her as he walked her off the floor. "We're leaving now, protocol or no protocol." He grabbed Kelly's wrap and purse from the table where she had set them down, and guided her swiftly toward the elevator. Duncan continued to support Kelly as they rode up to her suite on the sixteenth floor. She had withdrawn almost totally into herself again, and she looked as if she might pass out. He found the room key in her purse and unlocked the door, moving her quickly to the couch. "Sit. Put your head down," he directed, forcing her body to comply as she stared blankly at him. He went to the mini-bar, found some brandy and poured it into a glass. "One sip," he said, placing the glass to her lips. She held the base of the glass, avoiding his hand. She swallowed, then coughed as the liquid burned her throat. Her eyes focused. "What happened? How did I get back here?" "I think you withdrew into self defense mode when that jerk started pawing you. I got rid of him and brought you back here." "Mac! That was Gerald Fletcher. He's one of the richest men around, and the Foundation has been buttering him up for ages. Oh my God. I probably blew it; Uncle Phil will kill me." "Actually, I think you'll find that Mr. Fletcher has been quite generous." "Why? What did you do to him?" "Do to him? Nothing. I merely pointed out that he wouldn't want his wife to find out how he was behaving with another woman. I also might have hinted that I'd seen him at a bar with someone who wasn't his wife." "You didn't!" "Let's just say that I know his type. I think you're off the hook with Phil." She grew quiet. "Before the "accident," I would have had that idiot eating out of my hand." Duncan took her hands. She flinched slightly, but then relaxed and looked at him. "Kelly, you've made great progress. You did just fine in civilized social situations. You can't feel that you failed because some sleaze got through your defenses. You'll keep getting better. Just look how quickly you snapped out of it." She nodded. "You're right. I feel almost normal again." She handed him the glass of brandy. "And not to change the subject, but can I ask you a personal question?" "Go ahead." He braced himself for the question about Chapman. "You're not gay, are you?" Duncan nearly choked on his brandy. "What did you say?" "Well, it's just that before they sent you to the camp, the Foundation said you were "perfectly safe." Then, when I saw the ID they faxed, I just assumed ... but you're not, are you. I mean, I did see the way you looked at the women tonight and ..." "No, Kelly, I'm not gay. Is that a problem?" "Not now. I think I felt better, safer, believing you were when we were at the camp. I guess it just never occurred to me that someone would be "safe" because he was a perfect gentleman. I'm just starting to believe that there is such a thing as a "gentleman." "There are a few of us left." "A throwback to the days of chivalry, eh?" "Something like that." "Can I have some more of that brandy?" He poured a second glass and handed it to her. She lifted her glass. "To chivalry." "To chivalry." "Mac?" she said softly. "Yes?" "Thanks again for being here tonight. And for being there for me at the camp. You've lost someone, too, haven't you? Does it ever stop hurting? Can you ever eat ice cream again, so to speak?" He walked toward the window, looking over the lights of the city below. "Yes, I've lost someone, and the hurt never really goes away. It changes, moves deeper inside, but no, it's never really gone. For me, it was the smell of her perfume that triggered the pain." He paused, waiting until he knew his own pain was under control, then turned back to Kelly. "Now it brings memories, even good memories." Some day you'll enjoy ice cream again. It might taste a little different, but it will bring you pleasure." "Come sit down. Stay a little while longer, please." Duncan sat down next to her. She smiled, not moving away when their bodies made contact. He felt her relax into the couch as they sat in the semi-darkness, enjoying the quiet comfort of friendship. The End Feedback to: tlco777@juno.com