A/N: The West Point and surrounding areas depicted in this story are as they were in 1987, when our family lived in the housing area at Stewart while DH was assigned to the commandant's staff at West Point. The Chocolate Goose was a real shop with wonderful chocolates, and our children loved the duck pond at the park in Cornwall where I have Francine and Clay eating their picnic.
Chapter 5
Clay called Lee and Amanda from Stewart and arranged to meet them for dinner at Spencer's at six. They were on the way to West Point when Francine saw a sign for a little shop called The Chocolate Goose up ahead. "The Chocolate Goose? What's a chocolate goose?"
"A shop that sells chocolates. Catchy, isn't it?" He pulled over in the small parking lot and went around to open her door. When she didn't move, he said, "Well, aren't you getting out?"
"I'm not sure I should. If I go in there, I might not come out except on a stretcher. You've heard about cats and catnip? Well, chocolate is my catnip."
"I'll keep you from overdosing. Come on, let's go see what they have."
Thanks to his steadying presence, she confined herself to a half-dozen handmade truffles with liqueur centers. He paid for them and she said, "Let's get out of here while I still can."
Their next stop was a supermarket in the village of Vails Gate, where he picked out sandwiches, coleslaw, and cold drinks.
"We're picnicking?" she asked.
"There's a pretty little park in Cornwall-on-Hudson. Oh, and would you see if you can find a bag of birdseed? There are ducks and geese at the park and stale bread really isn't good for them."
Francine picnicked and enjoyed it; she even enjoyed feeding the very persistent geese and watching the children that had come to the park do the same. When it was time to leave, she handed over the rest of the birdseed to the children and got back into the car. As they drove away, she said, "I talked to children and survived."
"They're hardly dangerous, Francine."
"That's what you think. They terrify me, especially babies."
"I have it on good authority that with reasonably careful handling they don't break."
"Maybe not, but they create bad smells and they can't talk, at least not at first. How do I deal another human being that can't tell me what's wrong?"
"The same way mothers have been dealing with them for tens of thousands of years – with love and patience."
"You give me too much credit, Colonel."
"I don't think so. Better put that scarf on, Miss Desmond; it's about to get a little windy."
He zipped around the curves of the Storm King Highway like he was driving on the Corniche; Francine thought she'd never been so exhilarated in her life. They reached West Point, drove through Washington Gate and pulled over in the Post Exchange parking lot.
"Well, do you forgive me for not mentioning the scarf?" he asked.
"I'll think about it. How do I look?"
"Gorgeous. There's a ladies' room inside the BX there, if you need to comb your hair."
"That would be good. If anybody else had done this, Clay…."
"Yes, I know, but you're having a blast, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am."
He marched her all the way up to Michie Stadium, where Army played its football games; he gave her a tour of the gorgeous Gothic Cadet Chapel, with its many flags and stained glass windows; he showed her Benedict Arnold's plaque in the Old Cadet Chapel, the one with Arnold's name cut out because he committed treason; they toured Trophy Point, with its links of the Great Chain, and then he said, " The chain was secured on this side down on what is now Flirtation Walk."
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Yes. Do you want to take a walk on Flirtation Walk? Officers aren't supposed to go down there when cadets are there, but I'm a civilian now, and we should have it to ourselves anyway at this time of day, even on a Saturday."
"Lead the way."
They reached a large, overhanging rock. "This, my dear Miss Desmond, is Kissing Rock."
"Is that why you brought me down here, Colonel Clayton?'
"Would it bother you if I had?"
"Why, no."
"Oh, good."
A minute or so later, Francine, who had been well and truly kissed, stepped back and said, "Wow. Can we do that again?"
"My pleasure."
When they came back off "Flirty", as it was affectionately called, they were holding hands, and Francine was a bit more mussed than she had been before, but she didn't mind.
"We need to get going if we're going to meet Lee and Amanda for dinner at six," Clay said as they walked back to where he'd parked the car.
"Yes. Will we have time to stop at the Goose again?"
"Sure. More chocolates, Miss Desmond?"
"Yes, but not for me, for Amanda. In December '85, Lee, Amanda and I were all working a case together when Amanda and I got caught. The bad guys locked us in a flash freezer at a hamburger plant and set the timer, knowing that if someone didn't get us out in time, we'd freeze to death. I still get cold just thinking about it."
"It doesn't make me feel warm and fuzzy either, but go on. Obviously, you got out in time, probably thanks to Lee?"
"Yes. Well, while Amanda and I were stuck in there, we sort of let the barriers down, and I confessed how much I love chocolate, all kinds of chocolate. A few days later, at the Agency, Amanda showed up with a box of DeVarona chocolates – the Ecstasy assortment - for me. We weren't exactly good friends at the time – I was foolish enough to think I still had a chance with Lee at that point – so I'm sure she had ulterior motives for buying them."
"And now you want to return the favor?"
"Yes. One good turn for another, you know."
He laughed. "Francine, you are my kind of woman. Pick out what you want, and I'll buy it."
"Oh, no, this one is on my tab. Have plastic, will travel."
"As you wish."
