Rapture

He turned off 1-84 a few miles before Waterbury and drove the back roads into Millville. They swung by the high school, where a crowd of cars in the parking lot suggested a football game in progress, although the field wasn't visible from the road. They circled the green, another place where many hours had been idled away, and they passed the town library, one of Jeffs favorite refuges in adolescence. The library was freighted with erotic history for him. It was where he'd first started looking up girl's skirts. Thro of his former girlfriends had worked part time at the library. The long dark aisles of books, especially the upstairs stacks, were wonderful places for useful peeking, fast kisses, and an occasional grope.

After a quick run through the center of Millville, they headed south on the New Haven Road. When they were approaching the Brewer house, Jeff asked Georgianne if she wanted to stop and say hello.

"No, don't bother," she replied definitely.

He took it as a good sign: Georgianne didn't want to go through the inevitable explanations of Sean's death.

"Miss the old homestead?" he asked as the Slaton driveway appeared ahead on the left.

"No ... not really." A moment later, she continued. it was a good house and I loved growing up there, but you can't live in the past."

He said nothing, but he felt a shiver of excitement. She was looking to the future. If she could say that about her family home ... But it didn't occur to him that her words might have any bearing on his own life.

They reached New Haven thirty minutes later, and Jeff went to the parking lot in the center of Broadway. He and Georgianne spent a while browsing through the Yale Co-op and looking in the windows of some of the fancy clothing stores nearby.

Jeff still had a certain fondness for New Haven. In high school, it had had a vague prestige value: if you could take your date thirty miles to New Haven, find your way to some worthwhile joint-a jazzy coffee bar, a folk club, a shady head shop that sold nitrous oxide-you were a cut above the jerks who couldn't find their way beyond the creature-feature drive-in. It wasn't New York or Boston, but in those days and at that age New Haven had been the first step toward some imaginary sophistication.

And this, Jeff thought as he and Georgianne strolled along York Street, is the date we should have had back then....

The air was crisp and sweet, the light sharp, the afternoon purely October. They walked through Yale courtyards and side streets. They said little, but seemed content to enjoy the day in each other's presence. Later, they went to a Truffaut double bill, Stolen Kisses and The Man Who Loved Women, and then had a white clam sauce pizza and cold beer at Pepe's. It was all as effortless as a dream, a dream of the future by way of the past, and if it was the best day of the entire two weeks, Jeff attributed that to the fact that they'd come a distance from Foxrock. When Georgianne moved away from there permanently, every day would be like this one.

That morning he had worked out a quicker, alternate route back to Danbury, by way of Shelton and Newtown, but it was still a fair drive. Georgianne dozed off on the way. Jeff found some quiet jazz on the FM band and pulled her gently closer to him. She settled comfortably, resting her head on his shoulder. As soon as that happened, he eased up on the gas pedal. No need to rush. He wanted to enjoy every second of the drive. He was taking Georgianne home after a date. She was nestled against him, and he could smell her hair. A moment he had dreamed of and waited for, and now that it had finally arrived he didn't want it to end. He would have been happy to drive around the back roads of Connecticut like this all night.

When he did park the car on Indian Hill Road, Georgianne stirred and looked up at him. She smiled sleepily. Perfect, he thought, just perfect. And he smiled back at her.

"Sorry ... I hope I didn't bother you."

"Of course you didn't."

"Do you want some coffee, or a drink?"

"Not coffee, but a nightcap would be nice." He was flying back to Los Angeles the next day. He had no intention of saying good-bye to her at this point.

The house was chilly again. Jeff went to mix the drinks in the kitchen while Georgianne turned up the heat. He knew what it was-she wasn't yet used to looking after every little thing about the house by herself. One winter alone here would do it for her, he thought. A house required a good deal of regular maintenance. As Sean had said, there were always chores and repairs to be done. And the snowConnecticut winters were no fun. He was convinced that by spring Georgianne would feel different about this house.

"Thanks for a wonderful day," she said after he'd brought the drinks into the living room.

"It was nice, wasn't it."

"I shouldn't have fallen asleep like that."

"Why not? It was a long day, and we did quite a bit of walking. Besides, I enjoyed driving you home that way."

They were sitting together on the couch.