Part 17 (1/2)

”I didn't think we'd make it,” Finn told Megan. He was sorry himself. She'd seemed so anxious to get in. He was, for some reason, relieved. He didn't know what was wrong with him. After the fiasco they had nearly made of their marriage because of their different jealousies, they had both determined to learn a, lot about trust. A good thing, because, when they played, they were both often besieged by members of the opposite s.e.x.

His feelings, he determined, had nothing to do with trust. He trusted Megan.

He didn't trust her friend Mike. He hadn't a reason in the world to feel that way. Except that he'd known Megan before Finn.

And...

All right, it was strange to be here. Megan's old haunting grounds. Megan's family, Megan's friends, and he was too often plagued by feelings of insecurity. He'd just gotten his wife back. And he was afraid that she could too easily be wrested from his fingers, here, where she seemed to know everyone, and he was a total outsider.

”Okay,” Megan said with a shrug, and turned back to the window. ”Can you do me a favor, though? Will you tell Mike that Megan and Finn came by?”

The girl's eyes widened. ”Hey... Megan. You're Mike's old friend, and the two of you are playing at the new place. Hang on!” she said cheerfully. ”I'll go get Mike.” She started to rise from her swivel chair behind the little counter. ”You don't recognize me, of course. I'm Gayle Sawyer. I was there last night. You two were wonderful. We need entertainment like you two around here so much more! I mean, of course, the place is small, but to see anything hip or popular, we usually have to go all the way into Boston.

Don't go anywhere, I'll get Mike.”

Finn was startled when she paused a moment, looking directly at him. Her eyes traveled from the tip of his head down, loitering in the crotch area, going on to his feet.Then she disappeared.

”You've got a fan,” Megan told him. She didn't sound angry, just amused.

”I am beloved by all pincus.h.i.+ons,” he whispered back.

”She does have a lot of piercings, huh?”

He pulled her against him, resting his chin on the top of her head. ”I like my women without holes, except of course, those charming little punctures in your ears.”

”I've been thinking about a belly b.u.t.ton ring,” she said.

”On you, I'll love it,” he swore solemnly.

”Glib,” she told him, ”very glib. How about I get a great big tatoo on my back.”

”One that says 'Mother' or a giant snake wrapped around a Harley?”

”I think I'd go for the snake and the Harley.”

He angled his head so that he could whisper in her ear. ”Are you forgetting that little rose you already have on your ankle?”

”But that's so small!” She laughed suddenly. ”I thought my father was going to have a heart attack when I got that!”

He didn't have a chance to reply. Mike Smith, in dockers and a black sweater, was coming into the foyer area where the ticket sales were done. He had a broad smile on his face-dimples showing-and looked confident, a.s.sured, and pleased to see them.

”Hey, you made it!”

He came forward and Megan stepped toward him, accepting his warm hug and placing a kiss on his cheek. The act made Finn sizzle inside, despite the innocence of it. Smith looked equally glad to see him, though he offered a handshake rather than a hug.

Finn found himself pulling Megan back against him, resting his arm around her shoulder. ”Looks like a great place,” he told Mike.

”It is. Come on in, I'll show you.”

”Oh, hey, you know, you're trying to close down for the day and all. We can come back,” Finn told him.

”I'm thrilled to give you two a personal tour,” Mike a.s.sured him. ”I never get out of here until late, anyway. At least tonight, I'll be staying for a pleasurable occasion.”

He spoke bluntly and casually. Finn mocked himself for finding offense at the word pleasurable.

”There are three branches of the museum... we start with the founding of Salem up through the end of me witch trials that way, maritime is to our left, and Salem today is upstairs,” Mike told them.

”Maritime,” Megan said.

He swept an arm out. ”This way, then.”

”Hey, I'll be seeing you again tonight!” Gayle called to them.

”Terrific, thanks,” Megan said. They were a few steps behind Mike as they walked. ”I think she means that she'll see you tonight!”

she whispered lightly.”Strange little thing,” he replied softly.

”She knew right where to hone in,” Megan murmured.

He was startled. Megan seemed to be feeling little bits of jealousy now as well.

”Not my type!” he a.s.sured her. He was annoyed to realize, however, that he was thinking of the girl, still picturing her in his mind's eye. Little bits of character and build that he hadn't noted at first were filling his thoughts. She was small, compact, with a tiny waist, emphasized by the belted, dark wool dress she'd been wearing. Plentiful chest. Exceptionally well shaped legs; she worked out, evidently. Huge lips-Angelina Jolie lips. He remembered the way she had zeroed in on him, intimately. He wondered about her mouth. What it would feel like...

”Can you even begin to imagine, Finn?”

Megan was talking.

He hadn't even realized that they had come to a room. There was a model of a three masted s.h.i.+p in the center of the room. Display cases were filled with harpoons, from very old ones to newer, mechanized designs.

”Pardon?”

”Can you imagine? Being out on a s.h.i.+p for years-the whalers were sometimes gone for up to three years at a time!” she said.

”It wouldn't be my line of work.”

”For a lot of New Englanders, it was a way to riches,” Mike said. ”And naturally, there were many disasters as well. That's why you'll see so many of the coastal houses with their 'widow's walks.' Wives, children, lovers, used to pace those walks, waiting for the s.h.i.+ps to return.”

They moved on to a display that explained the many uses for whale oil. He forced himself to concentrate.

Another case was filled with tiny models of s.h.i.+ps, showing changes in design from the sixteenth century through present day.

Another case was filled with little miniatures that the sailors had whittled from whalebone. He kept walking, glad of the total normalcy of the tour, wondering why he wanted to escape so badly. Smith really seemed to be a decent sort-the total academic, just as Megan had described him.

”Actually, you should see the part of the museum dedicated to the witch trials,” Smith said, pausing, running his fingers through his sandy hair. ”We've really done an incredible job.”

”Sure,” Finn said.

They exited the maritime section down a back stairway, but Mike walked them around to the entry so that they could view the exhibit in the proper order.