by Sandra Brown
As much as she tried to thrust these plaguing thoughts to the dark recesses of her brain, they adamantly remained in the forefront, torturing her. If it weren't for Jennifer's sweet disposition, she would have gone mad. At least Jennifer accepted her love and returned it in full. Lauri didn't even want to think of what it would do to her and the child when she left.
Left? Yes, she would have to leave if Drake were to come back. She couldn't resume their relationship as it was. Never could she be his mistress, sleeping with him whenever the mood struck him. She had been little more than that to Paul, and as she knew well, that was a dead-end street.
It looked as if she would have to bide her time to see what Drake expected of her. Jennifer received one or two brief notes each week, but he enclosed nothing for her. Not one word. He never called. Had he forgotten her entirely?
Two weeks extended into three and then into four. The weather prohibited most of their usual jaunts, so Lauri devised indoor projects. They painted with watercolors; they strung beads; they baked until the freezer was well stocked with cookies and cakes.
One day, as they were icing a chocolate cake, Lauri asked Jennifer if she would like to share it with John Meadows. Jennifer enthusiastically agreed.
The day was clear but extremely cold. They bundled up in their heavy coats and walked down to the village. John was working in his deserted shop. He wasn't busy these days. Whispers wasn't a skiing community, and the tourists were occupied in other villages that catered to the sport.
He was delighted to see them. Not expecting any customers, John closed the shop and invited them to his living quarters in the back of the building.
"Here, Jennifer," Lauri said, giving the little girl a large piece of cake. "It's hard to invent teaching projects in the wintertime," she said, explaining their generosity. "Jennifer enjoys baking, but we're going to gain forty pounds this season alone if we don't slow down."
John smiled kindly as he turned away from the stove, where he had poured Lauri a cup of coffee from a blue enamel pot.
"I'll be able to eat on that for days. Thank you again, although the visit itself would have been enough."
"We've missed seeing you, too. Since Drake—" She cut off what she was about to say. Since Drake left, we haven't felt like doing much of anything. She concentrated on blowing on her coffee to cool it.
"Lauri, how do you feel about his going back?" The question was asked quietly, but Lauri couldn't ignore it. She glanced up at John as he joined them at the table with a mug of coffee in his giant hand.
"He – I—" Lauri choked on the words and tried to hide her emotion by reaching over to Jennifer and smoothing back the curls dangerously close to the chocolate icing that encircled her rosebud mouth. She looked up at her teacher with Drake's eyes – green, black-fringed. They were poignant reminders of him, and she felt the tears escape her eyelids and roll down her cheeks.
"Do you want to talk about it?" John asked. He touched her hand, which rested listlessly on the checked tablecloth. His eyes were dark and warm and confidence-inspiring. She began to talk, and the whole story poured out.
John didn't interrupt her. He made no comment when she had to stop and blow her nose or choke back a fresh wave of tears. Jennifer, exhibiting a tenderness and understanding far beyond her years, came around to Lauri's side of the table and climbed into her lap. She rested her head against Lauri's chest and patted her shoulder comfortingly.
"We're not really married," she said hoarsely. "The ceremony was real enough, but the vows were false. They meant nothing to Drake."
"But they did to you?" John asked perceptively.
Lauri tried to answer but couldn't. She only looked up at him and nodded miserably. "I love him, John. I knew from the first time I saw him that I was going to love him, and I fought it. I fought it when I knew that I could never mean more to him than a warm body in bed." She felt no self-consciousness at this admission. John would never condemn anyone for loving. "In all fairness he warned me that he loved his wife and that he wouldn't get involved with anyone on a permanent basis."
She sniffed into the Kleenex, now soggy and shredded. Jennifer looked up at her with such concern that Lauri rubbed her back and smiled encouragingly. The child shouldn't see her this upset; Lauri was her only anchor.
It must truly shake the child's world to see her teacher/mother in such a state of devastation.
"I think you've misjudged Drake, Lauri," John said. "Don't be too sure that you're only a 'warm body in bed' to him. He's left you with the responsibility of virtually rearing his child for him. It's impossible for him to have her with him all the time. It would be difficult for any single male to rear a young child."
"I'm paid to do that, John. He could have hired someone else just as easily."
"Probably much more easily. But he didn't. In spite of the fact that a beautiful woman living in any man's house causes incalculable problems, he chose you."
"No, I was chosen for him. I came highly recommended."
"All right," he sighed resignedly. "I'm not going to argue that with you all day. There's something else." His voice had changed considerably, and the different quality she heard in it made her look up at him. "I've seen Drake with you. I've seen the look in his eyes when they light on you."
"What you're seeing is lust. There's an explosive chemistry between us. I know he … wants me."
"No, Lauri. I've been guilty of lust," he laughed deeply. "No, there's a distinct difference. Don't you recognize love when you see it?" His smile was sad, and his eyes conveyed more than one meaning to his words. She parted her lips, intending to speak, but she couldn't. There was nothing for her to say. John knew it, for he continued hastily, "And I've never seen a man so jealous as Drake was that day I came to your house.
"He was jealous of Jennifer's affection for you," Lauri said. "He thought it highly improper that you and I were seeing each other." She laughed bitterly. "In the light of what Drake had in mind for me, his reaction to our one date a week with Jennifer serving as chaperon is funny. If it weren't so sad."
"This wife of his, she died three years ago?"
"Yes. Doctor Norwood told me that she died when Jennifer was only a few months old. That was the only fact I had, and Drake hasn't enlightened me further. His wife is off limits as far as conversation goes."
"Hmm." John said. "It's strange that a man of Drake's intelligence and self-confidence should continue to grieve for so long."
Lauri sighed deeply. "I can't understand it either, John. But it's sincere. There's no doubt in my mind about that."
She and Jennifer left a short while later. Her tears had provided a means to vent some of her depression, and she felt restored when she left John's house.
At the door he placed a heavy arm around her shoulders. "Lauri, if there's ever anything I can do, please don't hesitate to call me. I know what it is to hurt inside, and sometimes it helps to share it."
John, sometime in his life, had suffered unbearable grief. Intuitively Lauri knew that. Was that why he didn't censure other people? Was that why he was so understanding? Did he realize that a vicious action was usually the result of a wounded spirit?
* * *
Three weeks after their visit with John, the first blizzard of the season struck with full force. Though the days were monotonous, Lauri was more at peace with herself and her tenuous situation. She tried different methods of teaching Jennifer to speak and was rewarded when the child began to make noticeable progress.
On the afternoon of the blizzard the wind howled forebodingly while they sat in front of the mirror in the classroom trying to perfect the sound of the letter p. Lauri held a cotton ball on her hand and demonstrated how it flew off when she made the sound properly. Jennifer imitated her actions and beamed with pride when she was able to produce the sound.
Lauri left her to practice with the cotton ball and went into the living room to investigate a noise she had heard outside. When she reached the wide windows, she
peered out into the swirling snow through the heavy drapes. Her heart lurched at the sight of Drake climbing out of a four-wheel-drive vehicle and ducking his head to protect it from the wind as he rushed up the slippery steps to the porch.
He had raised his hand to knock, but Lauri rushed to the door and swung it open to let him inside. He shook the top of his head, which was dusted with snow, and folded down the collar of his shearling coat before turning to look at her.
"Lauri," he said.
She tried to say his name, but succeeded only in mouthing it.
"How are you?" he asked.
"F-fine," she stammered. Then she shook her head slightly, trying to clear it and said more firmly, "I'm – we're fine. Everything's fine." She wouldn't ask him what he was doing here. They had played that scene before.
"Where's Jennifer?" he asked.
"She's in the classroom. We've altered our schedule somewhat since you…" She trailed off. "It's more convenient this way," she explained lamely.
He didn't comment, only turned toward the classroom and walked through the door. Before she reached it, Lauri heard Jennifer's delighted squeal.
Drake was standing in the middle of the room with Jennifer in his arms. The child had her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs, as far as they would reach, around his chest. His hands were holding her under her bottom. Bunny, who had rarely been out of her hands since Drake left, lay forsaken beside her chair.
She leaned back and looked into her father's face. "Jen-fa, Jen-fa," she said, patting her chest with her hand. "Dau-dy. Dau-dy," she said, hugging him again.
"Oh, sweetheart, that's wonderful," he said, but she couldn't hear his praise. She only read it in his eyes. He looked toward Lauri, who still stood in the door, and grinned at her widely. "That's great, Lauri. She's doing well, isn't she?" He was the anxious parent who had sat across the table from her in the Russian Tea Room, and she said reassuringly, "Yes, Drake. She's doing very well."
He managed to free a hand long enough to extract two packages of gum from his pocket. Jennifer pounced on them greedily and he obliged her by opening one. It was evident that classes for the day were over.
There were a million questions reeling through Lauri's head, but she stifled the impulse to ask them. She would find out soon enough why he had shown up on the worst day of the year. The only thing she did ask was, "Would you like some cocoa or coffee? You must be freezing."
"Yes, please. I'm going to stop in the little boys' room and then I'll meet you in the kitchen."
Her hands trembled as she prepared the cocoa, which Drake had said he preferred. She took some of the cookies she and Jennifer had baked from the freezer and popped them into the microwave oven. The unmistakable aroma of fresh-baked cookies filled the kitchen.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were expecting me," Drake said, coming into the room and brushing back tousled hair with his fingers. The tight jeans rode low on his hips, and the light blue cable-knit sweater made his eyes glow green. Lauri swallowed hard. He was so blatantly sexy. Memories, explicit and vivid, crowded her mind. She forced her eyes away from him.
"Jennifer and I have been baking quite a bit. A few weeks ago, we baked John a chocolate cake." The spiteful gibe was intended to wound, and she knew it wasn't worthy of her.
If he were going to comment, he was prevented from doing so when Jennifer ran into the room, demanding to sit in Drake's lap while he sipped his cocoa. They communicated in sign for a few minutes, and Lauri was glad to see that he hadn't let his skills slip. If anything, he seemed more proficient.
"Well," he drawled, and leaned back in his chair after he had finished his cocoa and Jennifer had become interested in coloring a picture, "we have laid Doctor Glen Hambrick to rest."
"What!" Lauri exclaimed in astonishment. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said with a smile, "that he never recovered from the clout on the head he received in the park, remember?" At her nod he continued. "He died in his sleep without ever regaining consciousness. Poor chap," Drake said with exaggerated sympathy.
"What are you going to do, Drake?" Lauri had forgotten her earlier determination not to ask him any questions.
"Dau-dy." Jennifer distracted his attention to critique her drawing. When he had heaped the proper amount of praise on it, he turned back to Lauri who was impatiently waiting to hear his plans.
"There is a television movie coming up that I want to do. A good production company is filming it. I heard about it through the grapevine and hopped on my agent to get off his duff and land me the part. I flew out to Hollywood and did a screen test. They like me. It's looking good." He looked away shyly. "It's about an autistic child who is deaf. They need someone who knows sign to play his father."
"Oh, Drake, that's marvelous," she said warmly and meant it.
"Are you familiar with the play on Broadway Children of a Lesser God? It's about the deaf and has received all sorts of awards."
"Yes, of course. I've seen it."
"Well, the guy who produced that is working with a playwright on another script that's similar. He's looking for a bright new director who wouldn't be afraid of taking on a challenge like that. I had lunch with him the other day."
"Drake, I'm so excited for you."
"Don't be. There are a million variables. Everything could go wrong." His face was serious then broke into that famous, heart-melting, dimpled smile. "But it's damn hard not to be excited, isn't it?"
"I hope everything works out the way you want it to. You won't miss Doctor Hambrick?"
"Maybe I'll suffer some withdrawal pains, but I don't think they'll last. The best thing is that I'll be able to spend more time with Jennifer. I may have to move from coast to coast for a while, and the hours won't improve much, but in between jobs we can take vacations just like other families." He reached over to pat his daughter's head and didn't see Lauri's shattered look.
She rose abruptly from the table and busied herself in getting a casserole – one of their projects on a rainy day – out of the freezer and putting it in the oven for dinner.
Drake chatted on. "It may be tough for a while. I'll have to watch the budget, something I haven't had to do the last several years. But I've managed to save enough to live on if times get hard." He laughed. "Believe it or not, my agent is ecstatic. He says clients are clamoring for my face to endorse everything from toothpaste to panty hose. You work one day and make a lot of money if it's a national commercial. I haven't bothered with them before, but I'll take advantage of my visibility now."
She washed lettuce under the faucet. "I'm sure you'll be a success, Drake. At whatever you do.
She was glad when he offered to take Jennifer out of the way while she finished preparing dinner. As soon as they had left the room, she slumped against the countertop and covered her face with her hands.
He had all but told her she was fired. Not only had he not mentioned their phony marriage and their affair, but he had intimated that he would be able to spend more time with Jennifer, making Lauri superfluous. He was paying her more than a generous salary. Money wouldn't be in as great a supply as it had been. He was going to have to cut corners, she would no doubt be one of them.
There would be no trouble in her finding another job. A teacher of the deaf was always in demand, but there would be no joy in accepting another position. She would constantly be worrying about the pupil she had come to look upon as a daughter.
You knew there was a danger in getting too close, too involved, Lauri, she chided herself. Now you'll pay dearly for doing just that.
One thought consoled her. Jennifer was too young to remember her for long. She would miss Lauri initially, but she would soon recover and forget. Lauri told herself that the thought was comforting. Why then was it so painful to contemplate?
"Lauri?" She jumped when Drake said her name from the doorway of the kitchen. Composing her face, she turned to him. "Yes?"
"Are those boxes with Susan's things in them sti
ll upstairs in that closet?"
Her hands were clenched behind her back, and she could feel the nails biting into her palms. A lump rose in her throat, yet she managed to answer calmly enough, "Yes. I haven't touched them."
"Okay" was all he said as he slapped the doorjamb and walked away.
It took several moments for her to recover. How could he ask her something like that and not show any regard for her feelings? Did he think she had given herself to him lightly? Were those nights in his bed to be forgotten as if they had never happened?
Did he think she could forget the touch of his accomplished hands and mouth? She recalled the whispered words of love he had used while coaching her in ways to please him. He had murmured encouragement and praise each time he brought her back from that region where everything gave off dazzling light. Again and again, and in ways previously unknown, he had taken her there. But he was always waiting on the other side to hold her, stroke her, and cherish her.
At dinnertime he chatted amiably, relishing the home-cooked meal that, he said, was his first since returning to New York. He told her all the gossip about town: who was seen with whom in which posh disco. She responded only when required to. When he asked about Betty and her family, she related one anecdote about Sam and a can of paint at which he howled with laughter. Jennifer was able to follow the signs and added her own description of the mishap. She joined Drake's laughter.
After the meal Drake began helping with the dishes, but Lauri shooed him away. "You need to spend some time with Jennifer," she said.
"Okay. I wanted to tell her something important anyway," he said as he followed Lauri's suggestion and left the kitchen to find his daughter.
The dishes were done, and Lauri could think of nothing else with which to occupy herself. She had deliberately dragged out the preparations of the meal and the cleaning up, but now she had no choice but to spend some time with Drake.
Lord, give me strength, she prayed as she went into the living room. How could she stand to be with him and not be a part of him? Could she be within touching distance and not touch? Since he had walked in, shaking the snow from his coat, she had longed to go to him and thrill again to his embrace. That was out of the question. More than likely, in a matter of days, she would exit his life forever.