burning in loneliness.

Mother, Beth and Hal had been against me when I' most needed their understanding. Like a stone can stick in a chicken's craw, that knowledge was lodged in my memory. Because I now wore a wedding ring, didn't draw me any closer to them, even when they tried to behave as if it did.

But this was something I could not explain to my husband. And so, I endured what to me was their hypocrisy, rather than turn away from their overtures of friendliness.

All my life, Mother and Beth had been close to each other, and had rejected me. Yet deep inside I still longed to be accepted by them. Not on a phony basis. But as I am. While such a thing seemed forever unlikely, I hoped for it.

As time passed, I was beginning to think that I was getting used to the life I now lived.

Soon Beth was pregnant and her friends were planning stork showers for her.

It was a Sunday afternoon and Granger and I were in the patio.

"Sweetheart," Granger said, from where he lounged in a green canvas chair. "Of course you'll give a shower for Beth. Have it here. And...”

"I will," I cut in, as I hurled aside the trowel with which I'd been digging in the flower bed. "It's my duty.'

9.9

"Duty?" Granger's eyebrows lifted with surprise.

"Yes." I sprang up, and stood stiffly beside the arbor over which pink roses climbed. I had no intention of explaining that by giving my sister a shower, I'd be raising her in Mother's eyes, and lowering myself. I could hear Mother's unspoken thoughts, "My Beth's a real wife. Not like Melba. My Beth's starting a family.' Not knowing what was going on in my mind, Granger smiled.

"Honey, I think it's only normal that you'd regard having the shower as a pleasure. And—' "Hush!" I stamped my foot. Every nerve in my body was screaming. "Don't say that word again!" Quickly the smile vanished from Granger's lips. I was ashamed of my outburst. I ran to my husband and tenderly cupped his face between my palms.

"Forgive me, please!" I pleaded. "I'm just nervous. "I" I sat on his lap and hid my face against his shoulder. “I—I never could stand that word.'

He stroked my hair. With the patience of a doctor talking to a delirious child, Granger asked, "What word?"

I mumbled it against his shoulder. "N-normal."

"I'll try and strike it from my vocabulary," he promised.

Touched by his kindness, I lifted my face and pressed my lips to his.

My grateful heart accepted the wonderful fact that my husband was considerate of my feelings. Yet I knew that he could not help but wonder why I reacted so violently to that simple six letter word.

As Granger held me and stroked my hair, I rejoiced because I found comfort in my husband's arms. Yes, comfort. But no sense of the accompanying thrill I'd known whenever Jan held me.

"The past is gone," I told myself. "This is the now. Be thankful for the blessings you have.

I kissed Granger with such intensity that he mistook my gratitude for passion. His hand cupped my breast, and I knew he thought I wanted to go to bed with him. I didn't. But I couldn't disappoint him. So arm in arm we went into the house.

We didn't undress. He just removed his trousers and I took off my panties. I stretched out on our bed. Granger came to me, lifted my skirt, leaned over and gently