“Me too.”
A prolonged minute later, Candy sighed forlornly, bringing Gwenyth’s attention toward her expressive features. “I can’t believe you’re going to be living in Boston for months at a time, Gwen. I sincerely hope Sam doesn’t mind my visiting frequently. I’ll miss you, you know.”
Startled that Candy would think otherwise, she shook her head vehemently. “Of course he doesn’t mind, not that I’d care if he did. You will always be my best friend, Can. We both want you to visit Boston as often as your schedule allows.”
Candy took Gwenyth’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank-you for that.” She blew out a breath and laughed without humor. “I’m jealous, you do realize.”
Gwenyth’s eyes widened. “You’re attracted to Sam?” she asked, surprised.
Candy chuckled. “Good lord, no. He’s handsome and all, but he’s always been yours, Gwen. Ever since we were kids.” She shook her head. “I meant I was jealousofSam, not because of him.”
“What do you mean?”
Candy shrugged. “You’ve never been hot like this over a guy before, let alone married to one. I guess I got used to having no competition for your attention.”
Gwenyth’s heart warmed at her best friend’s confession. “That is so sweet, though completely unnecessary.” She squeezed Candy’s hand. “Nothing in the whole world could change my feelings for you or my desire to spend time with you.”
Candy smiled slowly. “I know,” she whispered gently. “I’m just being a selfish jerk.”
A whisper of words rippled through the gathered crowd like a wave, bringing everyone’s attention toward the raised podium that had been set up for tonight. Gwenyth’s heart rate accelerated rapidly as she watched Harry take the stage, knowing at once that the call they were waiting on would come through any minute now. Harry would soon know whether or not he had emerged the victor.
As Harry began speaking, Gwenyth felt Sam’s arm clasp around her shoulder in a warm embrace. She looked up at him and smiled, then turned her sights back to her brother and the humorous dialogue he was performing for his rapt audience.
“I haven’t been so nervous waiting for the phone to ring since I gave Martha Tipple my number in the eighth grade,” Harry intoned with a grin. The crowd ate it up, laughing delightedly. He continued to speak, mesmerizing the audience with his every word and gesture. “I just hope I’m given better news this time around.”
Sam chuckled. He leaned over and whispered in Gwenyth’s ear. “He’s gonna win, baby. I can feel it.”
Gwenyth peered up at her husband and smiled. “I think so too. The wait is killing me, though.”
Sam squeezed his wife’s shoulder. “We all feel it, Cupcake.”
When the telephone rang a few minutes later, a hush went over the crowd. The room was so quiet, Gwenyth was certain she could have heard a pin drop. It was the human equivalent to the calm before the storm. Placing her right hand in Sam’s and her other in Candy’s, she bit on her lip as she waited for Harry to deliver the news that would turn this gathering into the atmosphere of either Mardi Gras or a funeral.
“I don’t believe it.” Harry’s almost whispered words caused Gwenyth’s stomach to plummet alarmingly. Her brother’s handsome features were pale and drawn. “I don’t believe it.”
Just say it! Gwenyth wanted to scream, the tension of not knowing making her edgy. If it was bad news, it needed to be delivered at once.
Harry turned to the crowd and gulped, wide-eyed. He set the telephone back on its receiver and cleared his throat. “We did it,” he announced as if he couldn’t believe it, “we won.”
Cheers and laughter rang throughout the gathering as Mardi Gras ensued. Harry picked up an ecstatic Verlene and swung her around and around the podium, much to everyone’s delight. Gwenyth, Sam, and Candy threw themselves at each other, hugging and laughing.
The remainder of the evening was one of the best the Jones-Tremont family had ever spent together. Even Granddad let go of his dislike of “the establishment” long enough to Waltz with Verlene, and then with Gwenyth and Candy. He even did a little jig with Sam and Brian to the uproarious applause of the crowd.
Much later that night when Sam made love to Gwenyth in their bed, Sam showed his wife the finer points of reenacting that very jig horizontally. Judging from her moans and her screamed demands for more, he sensed that his wife was an eager learner.
* * * * *
Gwenyth slipped into her jacket and tiptoed toward the front door of the apartment as quietly as was humanly possible. She was still tired from Sam’s vigorous lovemaking the night prior, but she needed to get down to the Tampa Police Department and turn in the threatening note she’d received last evening to Detective Anderson. Harry was scheduled to meet her there in forty-five minutes.
Turning the knob and opening the front door with what she thought was the stealth of a jungle cat, Gwenyth was mildly surprised to hear Sam’s grumble from the vicinity of the living room entrance. “Gwenyth Marie, just where are you goin’ without tellin’ me?”
Gwenyth gulped nervously as she slowly turned around to meet her husband’s unnerving stare. She was in no way ready to tell him the truth. “To get breakfast for us,” she lied. “I was, uh, hungry.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest and glowered at her challengingly. “Oh really?”
“Uh huh.”
“Then why are you sneaking out of here like a cat burglar?”
