Part Twelve

"How would you like to join our book club?" asked Raoul.

It was 5:15 a.m. Peggy and Raoul were both settling in for the 5:20 run on the ferry. Unlike yesterday, the sky was completely gray, almost dark, not a patch of blue or orange in sight.

"Who's in it?" asked Peggy. She had just been trying to decide whether or not to invite Raoul to dinner. She wondered what he did in the evenings.

"Two outspoken women and three outspoken men. We need another female."

"I'm not outspoken," said Peggy.

"Don't worry, Margaret and Jane will teach you the ropes."

Peggy laughed. She poured her tea as they made the turn out of Eagle Harbor; the lights of Seattle twinkled from across the Sound. "I think it would be fun. I need to get out and meet more people."

"This is a good way to start. We just met last night and selected our next book. It's Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis. I can even lend you my extra copy."

"I don't believe I heard of it," said Peggy. Her mind raced ahead. Exactly how would he get the book to her?

"You'll fall over laughing. It may be the funniest book I've ever read," said Raoul.

"You've already read it, then?"

"Yes, but I don't mind reading it again. You see, we take turns choosing books, and it was Harold's turn and he really wanted to read Lucky Jim. The only ground rule we have is that the book be a relatively serious work of fiction. It doesn't have to be a great classic, but it shouldn't be Sidney Sheldon either."

"I love Sidney Sheldon."

"I know. Everybody does. He's so readable."

"Perhaps I should start reading Lucky Jim right away," she said.

He looked at her. "If you are free we could meet and I could give it to you."

She thought, for a man he's very good at picking up mental suggestions.

"I have all the time in the world," Peggy said. She was on the point of suggesting dinner but she couldn't bring herself to do it. What would Taylor think? Raoul would lounge around in Taylor's favorite chair, and probably take his seat at the table. He would see the recordings on the shelf that Taylor liked, especially the Bach and Handel, and he would probably select something and ask if he could play it, and it would be one of Taylor's favorites and it would remind her of Taylor and she would sit there missing him and feeling guilty for inviting a strange man to her house…

"What do you think of that?" Raoul was saying.

"I'm sorry," said Peggy. "I was distracted."

"I could tell. Look, there's no hurry. I could bring it tomorrow morning."

Then Peggy's face brightened. "I've got it. There's something I've always wanted to do."

"And that is?"

"Ride on a motorcycle."

"Really? Are you serious?"

"Is that so strange?"

"I think it's wonderful. I've never given anyone a ride on my bike before."

"Not even your wife?"

"She wouldn't go near the thing. It was just a noisy toy to her."

Peggy got out a small notebook that she carried in her purse. She scribbled her address and phone number on it. Her hand trembled as she wrote. What would Taylor think of her on a motorcycle?

"Here's my address and phone. What should I wear?"

"Long pants, a light jacket. I'll bring a helmet for you, of course." He paused and looked at her. "I admire your spirit of adventure. That's a great quality."

"You might not think it's so great if I'm screaming all the way down the road."

"No problem. I'll just go faster."

She poked him in the ribs and then turned away to sip her tea, grinning to herself.