Chapter 26

Tom McCullough pressed his mouth to Jenny's throat and kneaded her buttocks. She pulled his hand away and gobbled up his mouth, grinding their sweating bodies together.

"Oh Jenny, Jenny," he sighed. "This is no good, necking in the corncrib like naughty children."

"Um," said Jenny, kissing him again and pressing her tongue against his.

"Tonight, after the show, come with me, there are some cabins up the road. Some of our married people stay there."

Jenny swallowed and nodded. "After I get the boys to bed, won't take long. For an hour, maybe." She stepped back against the wall, bent to retrieve her hat, pushed at her disordered hair, smiled at the ardent man and then ran through the field to the store and got to work.

"Everything all right?" Sammy asked, noting her flushed face but not the red mark on her neck.

"Yes, fine, I was hurrying. Sorry I'm late. You headed for Rockville?"

"Yep, both of us, Polly wants to go to the barbershop with me. Isn't that something? Ma's come down to look after the kids. Just an hour or two."

"Barbershop?" Jenny said, pushing at her unfashionably long hair. "Next time you can take me. It's too hot for this mop."

"What is it with you women?" Sammy said. "I like long hair."

Polly came in smiling, "You ready? Want me to drive?"

Sammy made a broad gesture of helplessness with both hands and they hurried away. After Polly had shifted down into high, she glanced at her husband. "Your mother told me a secret."

"That was a mistake," said Sammy as they passed the golf course called White Flint.

"Well, anyhow, you ought to know since she's your sister. She saw Jenny and that McCullough fellow trading kisses in the corncrib." Polly raised an eyebrow in her husband's direction and then got her eyes back on the three-lane road.

"Good for her," Sammy said, chuckling. "I'll be damned."

A couple of hours later, they returned to their home, Polly having bought a new cloche hat at Welsh's store and gotten her hair cut almost as short as her husband's. Jenny left to see to her boys' lunch, and Sammy's mother stopped by the store for a bag of flour before walking back to her home.

"Understand you saw your girl child out smooching," Sammy said as he scooped flour.

"Tsk, no secrets in this family," Caroline said. "Might as well put it in the paper."

"You ever talk to her about divorce?"

"Time or two. Keep your thumb off the scale there, sir; I've got eyes you know."

Sammy laughed and closed up the sack of flour with practiced ease. "Well, I hope she has fun and I think she's old enough - what do you say; free, white and twenty-one?"

"Yes," Caroline said, "but you know these summer flirtations. Hearts do get broken."

"She can take care of herself. Dealing with those boys would make anybody tough."

Caroline laughed and waved as she left and someone honked for gasoline service.

Tom McCullough and Jenny McPherson lay atop their damp and tangled sheet, their breathing still a bit ragged. Tom was smoking a cigarette, and Jenny was on her side watching him.

"Sorry I'm so clumsy," she said. "We never used those things."

"Better than getting you pregnant," he said, "and like your boys, you're a fast learner."

"Um," she said, kissing his chest.

"Got a doctor friend that gets me those, hard to come by these days."

She kissed his arm and snuggled closer.

"Jenny," he said quietly, "you do know I'm married, I hope. This is just for fun."

Jenny swallowed, feeling herself blush. "Sure."

"I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea." Tom patted her bare thigh.

"I'd best be getting back. I told Ma we were just going for short ride."