For a moment their eyes clashed; then Tommy Lee sighed and held her by both shoulders. "What makes you say that?"

"I could see how you were looking at her, Daddy. I'm not exactly a child."

"Her name is Rachel, and the first thing I want you to understand is that I love her."

"Mother always said you liked other women too much and that's why she got divorced from you."

"Beth, I'm not going to argue with you about your mother. It's pointless."

Suddenly tears brimmed on Beth's eyelids. "But I don't understand… She got mad at me when all I did was kiss a boy. But you… well, you… you stayed out all night. You mean it's not okay when you're fourteen, but it's perfectly all right when you're forty-one?"

Tommy Lee didn't know how to answer. There could be no double standard, and to claim there was would be hypocritical. He had wanted a second chance at being a father. Now here it was, and he was finding out exactly how difficult fatherhood could be.

"No, sweetheart," he admitted, "I'm not saying that. I'm saying that at forty-one a person is better equipped to handle the consequences of his actions. But your mother is wrong about one thing. There's no reason to feel guilty for kissing boys when you're fourteen years old. As a matter of fact, that's exactly how old I was when I started kissing girls, and you know who the first one was?"

She shook her head, mesmerized by the sudden turn of the conversation.

He smiled, looking down into her pretty brown eyes, the freckles on her cheeks, her generous bowed lips, which were very much like his. "It was Rachel Talmadge-that was her name then."

"You've known her that long?"

"Uh-huh. Since we were kids."

But instead of impressing Beth, the fact made her stiffen and pull away. Puzzled, Tommy Lee watched her turn toward the stove again, and the momentary rapport between them was broken.

"I made you grits and sausage while you were gone, since Georgine didn't hold breakfast for you."

He watched her get a plate and spoon grits onto it, then move to the sink to fill the kettle with water, and he was suddenly weary, wondering how to deal with her jealousy. She stabbed three sausage links and added them to the plate, switched off the burners and turned expectantly with her offering in her hands, and Tommy Lee thought, Lord, will the way ever be smooth for Rachel and me?

"You don't like talking 'bout Rachel, do you?" he asked.

Her tone was defensive as she blurted out, "I wish Mother had been your first girlfriend. Then maybe you'd still be married to her."

And after that it seemed best to drop the subject of Rachel for the time being until things smoothed over a little bit.

During the weekend Beth displayed an increasing possessiveness about her father. Though he admitted he was again being manipulated by a female smart enough to realize he felt guilty and to use that guilt to get what she wanted, he went along readily with her plan for him to take her shopping for school clothes in Muscle Shoals. The following morning when they glimpsed Rachel on the church steps, Beth commandeered Tommy Lee's arm and maneuvered him inside before he got a chance to talk to her. The remainder of that day was devoted to taking Beth's new friends waterskiing, and when the afternoon finally ended, Tommy Lee wanted nothing so badly as to see Rachel for a couple of hours, having thought of nothing but her for two solid days. But when he casually mentioned that he thought he'd drive into town to pick up some things from his office to glance through at home, Beth immediately said she'd ride along with him.

Finally, late Sunday night, Tommy Lee escaped to his room so he could call Rachel. At the sound of her hello a sharp upthrusting stab of love pressed beneath his heart and suddenly everything seemed right again.

"I've missed you," he breathed, closing his eyes, lying flat on his back across the bed.

"And I've missed you. I looked for you all day today."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it, but it appears we have one problem I hadn't counted on."

"It's Beth, isn't it?"

He rubbed the corners of his eyes. "God, is it ever. She acts as if she doesn't want me out of her sight for a minute. She wasn't exactly happy to see me getting home in the middle of Saturday morning and wanted to know where I'd been."

"Did you tell her?"

"She guessed." He scowled at the ceiling.

"She guessed?… But how?"

"She called you `the woman on the church steps.`"

"Ahh… of course."

"Was I that obvious when I looked at you?"

Rachel's soft laugh came over the wire. "Was I?" He pictured her as she'd been Friday night, soft, pliant, smelling sweeter than anything nature had ever conjured up. He felt his body nudging toward arousal at the mental images.

"All I've thought about since walking out of your house is you. While I was chauffeuring Beth all over Muscle Shoals, and driving a speedboat full of shrieking teenagers, I wanted to be only one place."

"Where?" she murmured in a soft, seductive voice. It was not the words that mattered, rather the subtle nuances of two lovers infatuated with the mere act of listening to each other breathe.

"In your bed. In you."

Her breath again seemed to brush his ear. "Tommy Lee, I want to see you tonight. Can't you come over?"

"I'm tempted, darlin', but if I did I'd never come back home, and I promised Beth I'd be spending nights here from now on."

She sighed in disappointment, and he pictured her curling into a ball in the middle of her bed. "When will I see you again?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I'll pick you up as soon as you close the store."

"I'll have my own car there. Meet me at the house instead."

"Do you think we can hang in there till then?"

"I don't know. We have a lot of lost time to make up for, don't we?"

His voice held a tremor as he declared, "But we will, babe, we will."

"I can't wait. Can you stay for supper tomorrow?"

No matter how much he wanted to, he answered, "I'm afraid not. Beth's got something special planned for the two of us. She's doing the cooking."

"Well, next time, then."

"Next time for sure." Tommy Lee stifled a yawn-he hadn't had much sleep all weekend. "Rachel, I'm exhausted. I've been on the water all day."

But she wasn't ready to give him up yet. "Are you in the bedroom?" she asked.

"Yes, staring at the ceiling and picturing you as you were Friday night."

"Our bedroom?" she inquired softly.

"Yes… our bedroom."

"What's it like?"

"It's carpeted in blue to match the lake. The whole west wall is glass, and it's the only room in the house with draperies-they're the color of the sand on the beach. There's a king-size bed with a spread that's striped and kind of 371 soft."

"What's it made of?"

"Made of?" He rolled his head to check it out, smiling at the questions women came up with. "Hell, I don't know. It's got stitches all over it."

"It's quilted, you mean?"

"I guess so."

"Well, if I'm going to sleep there I have to know these things. Go on. Tell me more."

As teenagers, late at night after curfew, they used to talk on the phone like this-lazy inanities, unimportant chatter meant to do nothing more than delay the inevitable goodbye. Tommy Lee smiled, assessed the room, and imagined her entering it for the first time. "Across from the foot of the bed is a fireplace smaller than the one downstairs and with an arched opening. And do you remember once years and years ago when you told me you liked rocking chairs?"

"No, did I?"

"Well, there are two of them, big fat things covered with some kind of fuzzy blue stuff, one on either side of the fireplace. There's a walk-in closet big enough to put your whole store into." She chuckled appreciatively and he went on. "And beside the closet door is a valet chair with nothing on it at all right now. Everything's neatly put away."

There wasn't even a hint of laughter as she sighed. "Oh, Tommy Lee, I love you. I can't wait to live there with you."

At her confession his heart cracked like a flag in high wind, and he experienced the renewed wonder of dreams coming true.

"Tell me again, Rachel-I still have trouble believing it."

"I love you," she whispered.

He closed his eyes, absently running his free hand over the quilted spread as if it were her skin. "I want us to get married as soon as possible."

"I do, too. Did you tell Beth we want to?"

His eyes opened to study the ceiling again, and the hand that had been stroking the spread rested with its wrist against his forehead. "No, not yet."

"So she really is upset about the other night?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I should have thought of her. How selfish of me to keep you here overnight."

"You'd have played hell trying to get me to leave-don't you know that?" She laughed, but the sound was slightly strained. He drew a deep breath and went on, "Don't worry about Beth. I'll tell her soon. Then I want the two of you to meet. Properly. Out here at the house where we're all going to make it as a family. We are, Rachel, I swear it," he pledged intensely. Then, as if sealing a vow, he added prophetically, "Tommy Lee and Rachel and Beth."

"I'll hang on to that thought," she promised. "And I'll see you tomorrow at five."