A Stir of Echoes by Richard Matheson

muscles tighten. Then Anne took my arm and, forcing a smile for her sake, I escorted her to the car.
      "Did I tell you, you look gorgeous tonight?" I asked as I slid onto the front seat beside her.
      She leaned over and kissed me lightly. "Kind sir," she said.
      I held her a moment, breathing in the delicate fragrance of her perfume. By God, I vowed, I am going to stop this damned nonsense. Enough was enough.
      "You smell good," I said.
      "Thank you, darling."
      Then I looked up toward the house and thought I saw Dorothy watching us through the parted blinds.
      "Honey, what is it?" Anne asked.
      I drew back, smiling; rather unconvincingly, I'm afraid. "What do you mean?" I asked.
      "You positively twitched."
      "Did I positively twitch, love?" I tried to cover up. "It is passion, it is desire."
      She cocked her head a little.
      "Oh so?" she said.
      "Oh so, indeed," I said. "Don't think you can hide behind your condition."
      "Well, you're the freshest damn chauffeur I ever hired," she said.
      I grinned and started the engine. As we pulled away from the curb I glanced at the house again and this time there was no doubt; I definitely saw the blinds slip back into place. Something jerked in my stomach and I had the sudden impulse to jam on the brakes and go running back to the house. I actually had to fight the inclination. My foot jerked on the gas pedal and the car jolted a little.
      "Easy does it, Barney Oldfield," Anne said.
     
      "It is your presence, Madame, that undoes my foot," I said and managed to keep from my voice the turmoil I felt. My hands would have shaken if they hadn't been clamped so tight over the steering wheel. Self-anger only made it worse.
      "Oh, did you ask her if she has a time limit?" Anne asked.
      "There isn't any," I answered, wishing immediately that I'd lied and said we had to be back at eleven- at ten.
      "Wonderful," Anne said, as I'd feared, "we can enjoy ourselves without keeping one eye on the clock."
      "Yeah." The charm failed this time. I couldn't keep what I felt out of my voice. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Anne look over at me as I turned onto the boulevard.
      "That was a very inconclusive yeah," she said.
      "Not at all, my-" I started, then stopped. I realized that it was Richard I was concerned about and Anne certainly couldn't object to that. If only I could put it in such a way that she wouldn't think it was the "telepathy business" again. I was actually beginning to get a guilt complex about it.
      "Well," I said, hesitantly, "I…just feel a little dubious about staying out too late the first time. After all, Elsie's recommendation is hardly a national seal of approval."
      "No," she said. "Well… we won't stay out past midnight. We can do a lot by then anyway."
    Midnight. I clenched my teeth and sat there stiffly. That was no triumph at all. I still felt like going back and taking the girl home. But that was ridiculous.
      I told myself.
      We talked a while about where we were going, finally settling on The Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach because it was relatively close to home and also a nice place to have a few drinks and listen to some good modern jazz. That decided, conversation was taken up mainly by Anne while I drove and fretted.
      "Honey, there is something wrong," Anne finally said in the middle of a sentence. "Don't you feel well?"
      I realized that, as a matter of fact, the headache was getting worse. I could ignore that, however. That wasn't my concern at the moment.
      "No, there's nothing wrong," I said, irritated at myself for feeling the need to lie. "I'm just-oh, a little worried about leaving Richard with that girl."
      "Honey, Elsie said she was fine."
      "I know. I-" I shrugged and smiled awkwardly. "I guess I sound like an old lady. I just want to feel sure about Richard, though."
      "Honey, don't you think I do? I asked Elsie all sorts of questions about the girl. And I