only in a slip, snoring gently. He gazed at her from the bedroom doorway thinking in a detached way that she was still an attractive woman. He moved to the bed and sat beside her. Part of his preliminary plan was to be especially kind to his wife. Besides, the time in the hotel room with Rose Ann had left him tense. He touched Karen’s naked shoulder. She stirred, mumbled something, and her eyes opened. She smiled at him instantly.
“I’m lonesome, darling,” he said. “You’ve slept all afternoon.” His fingers moved along her arm.
She pulled him down to her. “Richard, I was dreaming about you…”
That evening as they sat on the terrace after a late dinner drinking Scotch and soda, he said casually, “Darling, let’s go out in the boat tomorrow. Maybe have a picnic supper at Put-in-Bay, or one of the other islands, and come back by moonlight.”
She raised herself in her chair. “Why, Richard, that’s a lovely thought. Just the two of us?”
“Who else is there? Besides, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I was afraid you were getting a little bored up here.”
“Never,” he said, “not with you.” He took a long swallow of his drink.
“I’ll make the lunch in the morning,” she said happily. “Chicken sandwiches, and some ham. I have that big thermos for coffee, and there’s some roquefort left from dinner—I’ll even make a salad. It was so thoughtful of you, Richard. It’ll be like sort of a—a little second honeymoon.”
“Yes,” he said, drinking.
“Let’s go to bed now,” she said, “so that tomorrow will come quickly.” She was tired, in spite of her afternoon nap. She was constantly aware of the difference in their ages, and sometimes it was difficult for her to be everything to Richard that she imagined he wanted her to be. Tomorrow would be fine, though. On the boat, in the breeze and sunshine, the two of them alone. She reminded herself to be sure and take gin and vermouth and ice. This summer she’d acquired a liking for martinis, especially before lunch. That was the time that Richard made them, almost every day lately, but after she’d eaten she became so sleepy…
Richard Barry finished his drink and the ice rattled in the bottom of his glass. “You go on to bed, darling,” he said. “I’ll be in pretty soon.”
She stood up and placed a hand on his cheek. “I love you, Richard.”
He smiled at her and half turned in his chair to watch her cross the terrace. At the door she paused and blew a kiss. “For my handsome, thoughtful husband.”
“Good night.” He was still smiling, but his voice held a faint weariness.
She blew him another kiss on fluttering fingers, hesitated, and for a moment he was afraid that she intended to return to his chair. But she didn’t, and when she had entered the house he sighed deeply, lit a cigarette, and gazed out over the dark lake. Presently he got up, made himself another drink at the portable bar, and then sat for a long time, smoking and drinking, perfecting his plan. The moon was high and pale and a gentle pre-dawn breeze was blowing before he stirred and entered the house. He undressed quietly in the dark, listening to his wife’s gentle snoring.
In the morning they ate a combined lunch and breakfast and Karen began to prepare the picnic supper. Richard went down to check the cruiser and fill the gas tank. By two o’clock they were ready to leave. “No need for any clothes,” he said. “Just bathing suits.”
She raised her brows and shook a finger at him accusingly. “No clothes? Just what are your intentions, sir?”
He grinned at her. “Wait and see.” He was already wearing tight green swimming trunks and carried a mauve-tinted shirt. He patted her hip. “Put on that white two-piece job—it drives me nuts.” His plan demanded that she be found in a bathing suit—if she were found.
Karen laughed and entered the bedroom. Richard moved swiftly to the kitchen,