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Shirley continued. “So anyway, we knew his time was getting short but didn’t really know when he’d be coming home. I was graduating that summer, just waiting for him to come home. We’d been writing about how we were going to get married. So anyway, there I am at graduation, and we’ve all just marched down the aisle onto the bleachers behind the stage, and we’re wearing those gowns and caps, when who shows up at the door to the school gymnasium but your father, still in uniform and carrying his duffel bag. I saw him and just jumped up off the stage, ran down the aisle, and threw myself into his arms.”Lauren put her hand over her mouth. “You didn’t!”Her mother smiled and nodded her head. “I did! I ran right down the aisle in the middle of my graduation, shrieking, ‘You’re alive, you’re alive!’ My mother about near had a heart attack. Then, while we’re standing there in the middle of the school gym during graduation, with everyone staring, he pulled a ring out of his pocket and slipped. He did. Still slowly, moving gently, almost. The boards of my attic bedroom, in my poor husband's old, creaking house, did not sound beneath his steps. His face was still shaded when he reached for me, but that only made the first touch sweeter. My thief was who I wanted him to be, like that. As he ran a shaking hand into my hair, brought another down to join my own on my breast, he was a desert prince divesting me of my silken robe. As he settled on the edge of my bed, warmth and solidity at my side, he was an immoral brother, tempted and desperate. As he lowered his mouth to my neck, trailed his fingers down my belly, he was husband. He drew my gown up my legs and was Saint Valentine himself. But when he took his tongue to my skin and his fingers, hardened by larceny, quickened, delved where I was most eager, he was a thief broken into my home in a moonless night. He was invited. I took him into my body and allowed him to do as he might. He was nearly silent, moving over me that.
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