by Nancy Moser
She got in the family car, pulled out of the driveway, and drove away from him. Without making a conscious decision, he found himself following her, hanging back, not letting her see. His mind swam with possibilities. She occasionally tutored, so maybe she was heading to a student’s home, some fifth-grade textbook in hand.
But maybe not.
It was the not that made his stomach pull. Millie was a beautiful woman. Desirable in every way. Wavy chestnut hair that kissed her jawline; brown eyes; a smile that had grown more wistful of late, but was still stunning. And though he was no slouch in the looks department either, he’d seen other men look at her. Want her.
She surprised him by turning into the parking lot of the community center. He’d driven by the building often but had never been inside. What did he need with knitting or tango lessons? He didn’t dare pull in behind her, so he went around the block. When he came back, she was already inside. He would have followed her, but the building was small and she’d certainly see him. So he cruised the length of the parking lot, peering in the windows. He spotted her in the next-to-the-last room. A half dozen people were there, some seated at desks, some talking. Millie stood next to a man at the front of the class, her notebook and books held close to her chest, her face serious, her free hand gesturing. He was nice looking in a burly sort of way and had curly red hair—
The voice of Mrs. Stephens from the bed-and-breakfast infiltrated his thoughts: “A handsome man with curly red hair. Mid-twenties.”
Could this be the same man who’d brought Millie a note with her earring?
No. That was absurd. Bar Harbor was an hour away. Why would a man who worked at a gift shop there be here?
The man stepped away from Millie and she took a seat. He stood in front of the group like a teacher.
And it was clear. His Millie was taking a class.
Without telling him.
His first inclination was to storm inside and confront her right there in front of her classmates. He wouldn’t mind getting a better look at the redheaded teacher. And yet… knowledge was power. And the advantage always went to the one who owned the element of surprise.
Which would be him.
Millie’s mother opened the door. “David.” Her eyes skirted his. Oh, yes indeed, something was up.
“May I come in?”
“Uh… Millie’s not here.”
“I know. I came to see you.”
Rhonda Reynolds fingered the collar of her dress. “Well, then. Come in.” She led him into the living room of the two-story Victorian. “Would you like some coffee? Or a sandwich? I was just making some lunch for Millie when she gets—” She put a hand to her mouth.
The perfect opening. “How is Millie liking her class?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You know about that?”
“Of course.”
He sat on the couch and she took a seat in a rocker. One hand found the other as she rested them in her lap. “She likes it fine. She’s a very good writer.”
A writing class? Why? “What’s the teacher’s name again?”
“Uh… I’m not sure.”
She was lying. “Is he from around here?”
“Well, I don’t know. I assume so.”
“Because we saw a man up in Bar Harbor who looked like him.”
“Oh. Really?” Her surprise was pulled. She knew something. “Must have been a coincidence.” She stood. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a sandwich?”
“No, thank you.” He stood to leave. There was one more thing to clear up. “I tried calling all morning. Were you both out?”
Mrs. Reynolds sat back down. “No. We were here.”
“Then why didn’t you answer the phone?”
She looked at her hands. “Millie told me about the wedding dress. She didn’t want to talk…” She glanced at him, then down again. “Last night, Ray spoke to me about staying out of it. I don’t want to be a bother, David.”
“You won’t be, I’m sure.”
“But…”
“Yes?”
“I hate to see Millie so upset. A girl only gets one wedding.”
“Which is why some guidance is needed to make it perfect.”
Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her. “Perhaps perfection shouldn’t be the goal?”
He stood in front of her and took one of her hands in his. “The Reynolds name means something in Bangor. Mariner Construction is a well-respected business here. In some ways I’m a newcomer, an outsider. I am very honored to be a part of this family, and I wish to continue the legacy.” He smiled. “Aren’t you eager for grandchildren?”
“Of course.”
He gave her hand a pat before letting it go. “Then let me do what I need to do for the future legacy of the Reynolds line. Let me honor you and your family with the perfect wedding.”
She hesitated, then nodded.
Case closed.
The call from Millie came an hour after he returned from visiting her mother. “Hello, David.”
He took the offensive. “So. You decide to make contact again? It’s been an entire day, Millie.”
“Mom said you came by.”
“When were you going to tell me about the class?”
“It’s nothing. Just a creative-writing class. Adult ed. Two mornings a week.”
“Since when do you write?”
“I’ve always enjoyed writing. I took some classes at Beal College—”
“You dropped out.”
“Because Father wanted me to work at Mariner. I’d still be working at Mariner…”
“If it weren’t for me. I told you. I want to be the provider of the family. There’s no need for you to work beyond a little part-time diversion.”
“But I want to work more. I need something to do, David. I can’t sit around all day twiddling my thumbs. I have a brain. I’m smart. I have something to offer the world besides… oh, never mind.”
“So being my wife isn’t enough for you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
He heard her sigh. “I just look at my mother, at how she thinks little about anything beyond this house. I’m interested in the whole world, David. Eisenhower, de Gaulle, the threat of communism, the space race, desegregation.”
“You get out. You work at the hospital.”
“In the gift shop. That doesn’t change anyone’s life.”
He laughed. “You want to change people’s lives?”
“Don’t laugh at me, David.”
He had to be careful. A woman’s ego was fragile. “You’re going to change my life, dear one. You’re going to make me the happiest man in the world.”
“So you say.”
He sat forward in his chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?
There was a pause. “I’m just tired. I need to know if you’re going to give me a hard time about the class.”
“And if I do?”
“It’s not hurting anything, David. It’s not taking one minute away from my time with you.”
“I assume you have homework?”
“Yes… but I’ll do it during the day, before you come home. I promise. It won’t affect you in any—”
“What was your teacher doing in Bar Harbor?”
Silence.
“Millie? I asked you a question.”
“I believe my teacher’s aunt is the one who owns the gift store where I lost my earring.”
“Yesterday you said the man was probably the proprietor’s son. You acted like you didn’t know him.”
Silence again. Then she said, “He mentioned it to me today. When his aunt asked him to return the earring to the hotel, he recognized my name. I didn’t know
it was him until he said something.”
“Why didn’t he just wait and give you the earring in class?”
She cleared her throat. “Are you going to stop by for dinner tonight? Mom and I were going to make meat loaf, your favorite.”
“Count on it.”
This wasn’t over.
Eleven
The lot is cast into the lap,
but its every decision is from the LORD.
Proverbs 16:33
Bangor—1958
Dina placed a stack of three files before him. “You seem very tense today, Mr. Stancowsky.”
He put down his pencil and rubbed his forehead. Before he could even open his eyes, she was behind him, kneading his shoulders.
“This is what you need. My brothers used to say I give the best back rubs.”
It wasn’t bad. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it. For such a small woman, she had strong hands. He wondered if Millie was good at back rubs…
“Well, what have we here?”
David’s eyes shot open. Millie stood in the doorway. Dina pulled her hands away, but none too fast. She retrieved a letter from the desk and walked toward the door, but it was blocked by Millie.
“May I get by, please?” Dina asked.
Millie glared at her, not moving an inch.
“Millie, let her pass.” He hoped he wasn’t blushing.
She stepped to the side. “Oh, I think your secretary knows all about passes.”
Dina left the room and Millie started to close the door behind her.
“Leave it open. I have nothing to hide.”
She pushed it open, raising her hands. “Fine. Let your girlfriend hear.”
“Jealousy does not become you, Millie.”
“And infidelity does not become you.”
This was ridiculous. “Sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.”
What had happened to his old Millie?
“Why did you ask me here, David?” she asked, standing behind a chair. “I have to get to the gift shop. You mentioned some kind of opportunity?”
He sat back, trying to focus. “I thought it would be nice if we had a dinner party for a few of Mariner’s biggest accounts. At my place. With you acting as hostess.”
“Why don’t you have it at our house? After all, my father is still the president of the company.”
He didn’t like the challenge in her tone but decided to ignore it. For now. “I’ve talked this over with Ray, and he agrees that my idea would be a good first step to establish the two of us as a team.”
She laughed. “Us? A team?”
“You? Cook?”
That shut her up. But when she turned to leave, he was afraid he’d gone too far. He really needed her to cooperate in this for the good of the business. He hurried after her, taking hold of her upper arms. “Millie, please. I’m sorry.”
She looked down, her head shaking back and forth. “You want a perfect wife, David. You deserve a perfect wife. I just don’t think I’m her.”
He pulled her close, enveloping her. “Don’t say that. We’ll work on the menu for the dinner together. That’s why I asked you to come over.” He led her back to her chair. “We’ll work on it together.”
Millie had been no help with the menu, just sitting there like a zombie. He’d finally told her to go to the hospital and he’d bring the menu by over lunch—for her approval.
She was impossible to understand. One minute she chastised him for making all the decisions, and the next—when he asked for her input—she threw everything back in his lap.
He sat with a legal pad before him. He knew the kind of food he’d like for the dinner, but the difficulty was choosing something that was impressive and that Millie could make. If Rhonda had done her job and taught her daughter to cook, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
He looked up when Dina appeared at the door. “Yes, Miss Edmonds?”
She stepped into the office. “I just wanted to apologize for causing any conflict between you and your fiancée.”
He flipped her concern away with a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
She nodded once but did not leave. “You look pensive,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Actually… “Are you a good cook?”
She looked almost pretty when she smiled. “An excellent cook, sir.”
“How are you at planning executive dinners?”
When David came into the hospital gift shop, Millie was helping a man buy a vase of carnations. A mother and a little girl were looking at the stuffed animals. The girl sang a song and made a teddy bear dance. She was adorable in a plaid dress under a red wool coat. While he was waiting for Millie, he moved close. “Your bear is a good dancer,” he told her.
She looked up at him with the most amazing brown eyes. Their children would have such eyes…
“Thank you,” she said.
The mother, who was wearing a beret that reminded David of the ones beatniks wore, chimed in. “All Nessa’s animals are very talented.”
“Nessa?”
“Vanessa.”
He smiled down at her. “What a pretty name. How old are you?”
With some work, the girl held up four fingers.
“My, my. Four years old. You’re a big girl.”
She nodded.
He noticed Millie watching him. Good. She would see how good he was with children. “Millie, come meet this darling child.”
She came out from behind the counter. “May I help you?” she asked the woman.
“We’re visiting from Atlanta. My sister just had a baby, and we—”
A perfect opening. David dove in. He put an arm around Millie’s shoulders, speaking to the mother. “This is my fiancée. We hope to have our own babies as soon as possible.”
He was shocked when she shrugged his arm away. “Children are a long way off.”
David looked at the woman, who seemed to be studying Millie’s face. Why was Millie intent on embarrassing him today?
But instead of being on his side, the woman put a hand on Millie’s arm. “Here’s my philosophy on such things: Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”
“Pardon me?” David said.
He saw Millie’s eyes brighten. “I like that,” she told the woman. She looked down at the little girl, who was taking it all in, and put a hand on her head. “I do love children. But I’m in no hurry. The time has to be right.” She glanced at David.
The subject had gotten out of hand. David pulled out the menu he and Dina had created for the dinner. “Can we go to lunch? I’d like to go over this.”
“If you’ll excuse us?” Millie stepped away from the customer. “That was rude.”
“Don’t talk to me about rude. How dare you act like you don’t want my children?”
Millie kept her voice low. “That’s not what I said. But the woman’s comment was a good one. ‘Just because you can—’”
He’d had enough. He shoved the menu against her chest. “Forget lunch. I’m not hungry. Look at the menu and bring it back to the office with any changes.” If you dare make any.
He walked out before she could object.
Decatur—1976
Vanessa flushed the toilet and sat back on her haunches. The tile of her mother’s bathroom floor was cold on her bare feet.
A tap on the door. “You okay, Nessa?”
No, I’m not okay! I’m pregnant! “I’m fine,” she said.
“I’ll get you some crackers and Fresca. That’ll make you feel better.”
She hated Fresca.
She scooted back against the wall, letting her head be cushioned by the orange bath towel hanging from a bar. Last night
had been so nice, she’d actually forgotten she was pregnant. Yet it hadn’t been without its own crises. She’d learned that her father had secret girlfriends, he had been unfaithful when he’d been married to her mother, and he’d been the one to kick her out of their lives. Those three revelations were enough to mess up any person’s life, much less waking up only to race to the bathroom to barf.
What was with morning sickness anyway? What purpose did it serve?
It reminds you what a fool you were to sleep with Bruce, that you’ve totally screwed up your life.
Then she remembered it was Saturday—she wasn’t home, at her father’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t gone home for the weekend. He’ll make me feel so guilty.
Her mother interrupted her thoughts. “I have those crackers, Nessa. Come out and greet the world.”
A few cuss words came to mind, but she kept them to herself. She got to her feet and opened the door.
Mother held out a saltine. “You look awful.”
She grabbed the cracker and shoved it in her mouth as she headed for the living room. “I gotta go.”
Her mother trailed after her. “But it’s Saturday. You don’t have class. I thought we’d spend the day together.”
Vanessa folded the crocheted afghan that had kept her warm on the couch. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”
“But Harry and I were thinking of going to a movie—that One Flew Over the Cuckoo Clock. We’d love to have you join us.”
“It’s ‘Cuckoo’s Nest,’ but no thanks.” She sat on the edge of a cushion to put on her sandals.
“I’ll call you later and we can do dinner.”
She grabbed her purse and made for the door. “I won’t be here.”
Her mother strong-armed the door, preventing her from opening it. “Where will you be?”
It was easier just to tell the truth. “I know you don’t approve, but I need to go into Atlanta. Daddy’s having a dinner party tonight. He wants me to be hostess.”
“But you’re a college student with your own life. He shouldn’t expect—”