A Singular Honeymoon

by Leigh Michaels

  “Quite true,” Sharley admitted.

  The woman gave an arch laugh. “Then I suppose there will be another interesting announcement soon?”

  “I can’t imagine what it would be,” Sharley said crisply. I don’t have to put up with this, she thought. On the other hand, she couldn’t just pick up her books and walk out, either.

  “But after he saved your life, my dear, surely you can find it in your heart—”

  “Don’t be silly,” Charlotte said. “Spence did what anyone would, and it doesn’t change the facts. Now, this whole thing makes me quite nervous, so shall we talk of something else?”

  Sharley tried to hide her sigh of relief.

  Charlotte turned to the woman sitting beside her. “I was going to call you about your reception on Monday,” she confided. “I’m afraid I can’t come after all. The stress of this week has been simply too much for me.”

  “But Charlotte, you promised to pour tea! And it’s such a special event, you simply can’t miss it. It isn’t every day that Hammond’s Point gets to hear such a famous musician. And to be able to actually talk to him after his recital will be such a treat!”

  “Yes, I know, and I deeply regret not getting to meet him. But I’m sure Sharley will be happy to take my place and pour for you.”

  Sharley slowly turned her head to study her aunt. What was it Spence had said about Charlotte’s activities, and the way she casually passed on to Sharley anything she didn’t want to do? Not that Spence’s opinions about anything mattered to her anymore. Still, the last thing she would feel like doing on Monday evening was to pour tea. “Aunt Charlotte, I don’t think I can.”

  “Oh, nonsense, dear. It’s just a little reception. It will do you good to get out and have something to occupy your mind for an hour or two.”

  “But I’m planning to go to school Monday, and I think I should have a quiet evening after my first day back on the job.”

  Charlotte sounded horrified. “The doctor said no school for at least a week, Sharley!”

  “I know he did. But I’m feeling quite fit again now, and by Monday I’m sure I’ll be fine. Why shouldn’t I go?” Sharley was starting to feel rebellious. “You said yourself that it will do me good to get out and have something to occupy my mind.”

  “The reception is a different sort of thing altogether,” Charlotte said. “You’re certainly not up to running after little hoodlums on a playground.”

  Sharley shrugged. “I’ll swap playground duty with the other teachers for another week or so, and I’ll get an aide to help out with any strenuous stuff in the classroom.” The idea was becoming more inviting as she worked it out. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll take care of some loose ends today, so I’ll be ready when Monday comes.” She gathered up her books. “If you will excuse me... Do you have anything which needs to go to the cleaners, Aunt Charlotte?”

  “If I did,” Charlotte said coldly, “I would not tear myself away from my guests to find it.”

  “Of course not,” Sharley murmured. “I wouldn’t expect you to leave your friends. Good afternoon, ladies.”

  As she climbed the two steps to the bedroom wing, her attitude was lighter than it had been in a couple of weeks. She would look forward, she told herself firmly, and quit dwelling on the past. Progress was made up of small steps, and it was time to begin taking some of them.

  She gathered up two suits, a pair of wool trousers, and half a dozen sweaters, and poked them into a shopping bag. She’d pick up a couple of her winter coats on her way out, too; the calendar said spring had arrived, and surely true warm weather wasn’t far away.

  I’ve made a start, she thought. A positive attitude; that was the key.

  From the window she caught a glimpse of Martin, puttering around the flower beds at the side of the house. He saw her too and waved — in fact, he beckoned for her to come out.

  Just what I need on top of the bridge ladies, Sharley thought. Another pep talk from Martin!

  He couldn’t seem to realize that nothing had changed — and that nothing was going to change, either. Last night at dinner, in fact, he’d carried on about Spence until Charlotte had finally snapped at him.

  But after Sharley put the shopping bag in the back of her car, she strolled around the house to meet him. It wasn’t Martin’s fault that he didn’t know when to give up, at least where Spence was concerned. There was something about that bulldog loyalty of his that was touching.

  If I’d had that same kind of attitude toward Spence, Sharley thought, things might have turned out differently.

  But not for long. Wendy would still have been there, right between them.

  Martin must have left the office very early, for he had changed into his gardening clothes, and one of the flowerbeds bore evidence of extensive work. But she wouldn’t have known he was home at all if she hadn’t happened to look out her window. Sharley wondered if he and Libby had some sort of pact of secrecy; he hadn’t set foot in the main part of the house this afternoon.

  “I haven’t had a chance to really talk to you since you got home, Sharley.” His tone was almost accusing.

  “I’ve been right here in the house the whole time, Uncle Martin.”

  “I know. Charlotte’s always got you close.” He pulled off his gloves and tugged his gardening hat down tighter over his ears. “I haven’t been able to get a single word with you.”

  Sharley frowned. “I know she’s been a bit over-anxious, but—”

  “Come and sit with me for a little while, all right?” He led the way to a bench at the edge of the rose garden. Sharley sat down; Martin picked out a nearby bit of grass and started wiping the mud off his shoes. He wasn’t looking at her.

  “Uncle Martin, I wish you’d stop behaving like a spy.”

  He didn’t smile. “This isn’t going to be easy, Sharley. It’s not pleasant for me, and it’s going to be a shock to you. But it’s got to be said.”

  The note of doom in his voice twisted Sharley’s heart like a wet sponge. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “It’s Spence, isn’t it?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  Sharley’s hands clenched together till her knuckles ached. “He’s not going to snap back from the carbon monoxide, is he? That’s why they kept him in the hospital.”

  “No! He’s fine, that way. As a matter of fact, he’s back in the office this afternoon, just for a couple of hours. That’s why I could sneak out and try to talk to you.”

  She had to make a physical effort to unlock her hands. “Then — if it’s not Spence’s health, what is this about?”

  His voice was very low. “I’m a coward, Sharley. A rotten, stinking coward. But last week when I thought you were going to die, and it was my fault…”

  “It wasn’t,” she protested automatically.

  “It brought me to my senses real fast. I tried to tell you that first night in the hospital, before the nurse shooed me away. Well, that’s all right — you were pretty weak just then. But ever since, I haven’t had a chance to get a word with you. Charlotte’s kept you right beside her.”

  “Uncle Martin...”

  He took a deep breath and turned to face her. Sharley saw the pain in his eyes. “It wasn’t Spence in the cottage that day, with Wendy.”

  One endless moment passed, and Sharley started to laugh. “What do you mean? Of course it was Spence. I saw him. I talked to him!”

  “Yes, you saw him. But it wasn’t what you thought.” He took a deep breath. “Wendy and Spence aren’t having an affair, Sharley. They never were. She was there to meet me.”

  *****

  The whole world turned a peculiar shade of pea green, and Sharley had to hang onto the edge of the bench to keep herself upright. She barely heard what Martin was saying; his words seemed to slide off the edges of her mind like water overflowing a container.

  “It’s been about a year, I suppose, since we started the affair.” Martin sighed. “I never intended to get inv
olved with another woman...”

  Sharley’s voice felt raspy in her throat, as if she hadn’t used it in a hundred years. “No one ever does, Uncle Martin.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But Wendy is sweet and good and lovable and—”

  “All the things Charlotte isn’t?”

  Martin looked at her sharply. “Charlotte has her shortcomings,” he said quietly. “In the last few years, since her stroke — well, she’s certainly not the woman she used to be.”

  Sharley nodded.

  “That doesn’t excuse my behavior, and I don’t mean to blame Charlotte for what I did. I’m a married man having an affair, and that’s all there is to say about it. Not very pretty, is it?”

  Sharley just looked at him.

  Martin sighed. “At any rate, we used the cottage because—”

  “Right under Charlotte’s nose?”

  “Er — yes. It was handy.”

  “I’ll bet,” she murmured.

  “Wendy had a key, and a good excuse for being on the estate, so we were far less likely to be noticed here than at a hotel — or even at her apartment.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I wouldn’t have thought of it myself.” Sharley was almost shaking with anger. “My honeymoon cottage, Uncle Martin. How could you?”

  He heard the pain in her voice, that was obvious. “Sharley, honey, I’m sorry. It was unforgivable of me. It wouldn’t have continued...”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “The only explanation I have is that I blinded myself to the implications of what I was doing.” Martin’s voice was soft, but there was an undeniable dignity about it. “I suppose I thought if I never considered the consequences we’d face if we were discovered, it would never happen — and so I continued to take ridiculous risks.”

  Sharley dug into her coat pocket for a tissue. “And you were caught.”

  “Yes. Spence walked in on Wendy in the cottage, and of course he demanded an explanation. So she told him as best she could how it happened that she was there, and what has been going on.”

  “She couldn’t explain from across the room? She had to be in his arms to tell him this?”

  “It got to be too much for her, and she was crying on his shoulder.”

  “Of course. It’s such a broad and inviting shoulder.” Sharley began to systematically shred the tissue.

  Martin shrugged. “It wasn’t any easier for her than this conversation is for me, Sharley.”

  She swallowed hard. He had a point there. “Go on.”

  “Spence was shocked, and concerned.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “And he immediately saw the implications. If Charlotte came to hear of this…”

  “It would be nasty, wouldn’t it?”

  “Very nasty indeed, I’m afraid. In the last year Charlotte’s health has gotten to such a state... Spence realized at a glance how stupid I’d been, and he was trying to find a way to minimize the fallout.”

  She remembered, now, what Spence had been telling Wendy as she walked in. It can’t go on like this, he had said. “Well, wasn’t that cozy of him?”

  “If you’re implying that Spence’s motive was to protect me, you’re wrong,” Martin said sharply. “I believe his intention was to talk to me, to find some way to shock me back to my senses. But of course you walked in. Naturally you were dismayed.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year.” Tears of fury burned her eyelids. “And he didn’t bother to try to explain the truth.”

  “Sharley, honey, think about it. He was still stunned himself, trying to think what to do, with no idea how I’d react if he confronted me with the facts, and the first thing you did was run straight to the house, straight to Charlotte.”

  Sharley was silent. He was right. Running to Charlotte had not been her intention, of course, but the effect had been the same.

  “By the time Spence had followed you, Charlotte was right there, listening to every word.”

  Sharley remembered the shocked look on Spence’s face when he realized that Charlotte was in the room. She had thought at the time he looked so stunned because Charlotte had begun to feel faint. But, now that she thought it over, she realized Martin was right; that had been the very instant when Spence had stopped asking her to listen to him and asked for blind trust instead.

  But Martin had been there, too. And he had done nothing. He had stood there and listened to her rip Spence to pieces, and he hadn’t even tried to intervene.

  Fury was licking at her veins. “And you let me believe Spence was guilty. Uncle Martin, how could you?”

  Martin said softly, “I’m not trying to defend myself, Sharley. I’ve already told you I’m a coward, but I assure you I wouldn’t have stood by if I’d realized what had happened. Sharley, don’t forget I had no idea right then what was going on. I just knew I’d walked into the middle of a fight. I wasn’t even listening to you; all I could think about was Charlotte.”

  Sharley nodded a little. Because the hurtful words she had thrown at Spence were engraved on her own heart didn’t mean everyone else in the room had been hanging on each syllable.

  “As soon as I found out what had happened — that it had been Wendy in the cottage — I wanted to tell you that it wasn’t Spence’s fault. But by then, of course, you’d already shown him the door. You’d given his ring back and told him that you never wanted to see him again.”

  “So you didn’t bother trying to straighten things out?”

  Martin’s eyes were full of sadness. “It wasn’t that way at all, Sharley. As soon as I could, I tried to reason with Spence. I told him that I wanted to explain — that I needed to explain! But he insisted I not tell you anything.”

  Sharley shook her head in confusion. “How could he forbid you to talk to me?”

  “Forbid is a strong word. But he made it clear that it wouldn’t do any good if I meddled, that I’d just stir things up worse, and he asked me to let it drop.”

  “Yes,” she said, almost to herself. “I’ve heard that tune before.”

  “And I was weak enough to accept that, Sharley. Not entirely to save my own skin,” Martin added hastily, “but because I felt sure if the two of you just had a chance to cool off that you’d work it out. But last week when I almost lost you...” He drew himself up very straight. “I can’t hide behind Spence anymore and let him protect me at such a cost to himself.”

  Sharley nibbled at her thumbnail. “So, now that I know — what if I go straight to Charlotte right now, and tell her?”

  Martin said slowly, “You must do what you believe is right.”

  “But you don’t think I will, do you? Do you expect me to become part of your conspiracy of silence, Uncle Martin?”

  “I don’t want to tell her, Sharley. I’m afraid of what the shock would do to her. And what would it accomplish? The affair is over. It’s not going to happen again. And I am trying very hard to recapture my appreciation for the good things about my wife — the fine qualities which are still there. I had let myself belittle those things because of my guilt — but maybe we can build on them instead.” He took a deep breath. “If you feel she must know, Sharley, then I hope you’ll give me just a little time. If someone must break it to her, please let it be me.”

  Sharley stood up. “I’m going to talk to Spence.”

  “I’m glad,” Martin said simply. “He’s quite a guy, your Spence.”

  She didn’t turn around. “He’s not my Spence, Uncle Martin.”

  “But you understand, don’t you? He’s completely innocent.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  Martin sighed in relief. “Then it will be all right.”

  She didn’t disillusion him. But as she walked to her car, she thought how ironic it was that the thing she had wanted so badly, had hoped and almost prayed for — the proof of Spence’s innocence — was no longer important at all. It simply didn’t matter anymore.

  The real issue w
as that their relationship hadn’t been important enough to him to try to tell her the truth.

  She wasn’t surprised to find a new secretary — a gray-haired, motherly sort — installed in the administrative wing of Hudson Products. She wasn’t even particularly startled when the woman said, with a smile, “Hello, Miss Collins. I’ll let Mr. Greenfield know you’re here.”

  Uncle Martin at work, she thought. He had probably called to warn Spence that she was coming.

  “I’ll announce myself,” Sharley said. But she stood for an instant with her hand on the doorknob, willing herself to turn it, before she could actually face him.