by Helen Conrad
“Just my style,” she mocked herself archly in the reflection.
“Then why don’t you keep it.” Joe’s voice made her jump and whirl. “It would probably look good on you.”
The horror of the situation staggered her. How could she have been so insensitive? She should have known he would show up at exactly the wrong time. And here she was, trying on his dead wife’s clothes. She stared at him, stricken.
“Joe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to... I shouldn’t have...”
He walked toward her and reached out to finger the gauzy silk of the pantsuit. “No problem,” he said casually. “It’s no big deal.” He turned and looked at the clothes still lying on the bed. “Take them all, if you want to. Burn them. It’s all the same to me.” His laugh was short and humorless. “No big deal,” he repeated.
No big deal? Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she could hardly catch her breath. “No, this is terrible,” she admitted, backing away from him. Suddenly she had tears in her eyes. “I meant no disrespect though, really, Joe. You probably think I’m some sort of callous monster.”
His dark eyes were taking on a puzzled look. “Carly,” he said, reaching out and stopping her retreat with a hand on her elbow. “What’s the matter? What are you talking about?”
“I...” She felt so miserable she could hardly speak. “I’m so sorry. I know it must be painful for you to see your wife’s clothes being pawed over by someone who is almost a stranger. I mean, it hasn’t been that long since she…since she died, and you still have her clothes here close to you...”
“Died?” Joe looked astonished. “You thought Ellen was dead?” In a sudden move that shocked her, he threw his head back and gave vent to uproarious laughter, laughter that was harsh with bitter pain. “Ellen’s not dead, Carly,” he said when he had calmed himself. His dark eyes glittered with something between scorn and humor. “She’s in San Francisco with her lover. Though I think I heard she’d married him the other day. So I guess she’s an upstanding citizen again and I shouldn’t say anything against her.”
Carly stood staring at him with her mouth open. The silk pantsuit slipped from her hands and fell into a puddle on the floor, and she didn’t notice. Ellen wasn’t dead? Joe wasn’t a grieving widower? The children weren’t really half orphans? The room took a spin around her as she tried to regain her bearings.
“Oh,” she said weakly. “I don’t know why, but I just assumed...”
“I know.” His wide mouth twisted in a crooked grin. “You couldn’t imagine how any woman could leave me, right?”
He was kidding, but for her it was true. Ellen—instead of being a tragic figure, in just a few minutes, with just a few words from Joe, was becoming something else, some kind of deviant fiend who wasn’t even very bright. It was difficult to rearrange her thinking quite this fast.
“Actually,” she said in a quavering voice. “Actually, you’re not far from the truth.” She sank down onto the bed. “What happened, Joe? I mean, did she really leave you? And her children?” The full horror hit her. “How could she leave her children behind?”
He reached down and scooped up the pantsuit, holding it in his hands and looking down at it as though it had the answers. “I’d like to say I wouldn’t let her take the children,” he said quietly. “And I think that would have been true, if she had ever even tried.” His gaze rose and met Carly’s. “But she didn’t try. She left us all, and this life, with hardly a backward glance. She won’t be coming back.”
He lifted the silk cloth to his face for a moment, as though taking in her scent. “We met in college,” he said. “She was beautiful. A little strange, but so bright and enthusiastic.” He shrugged. “I loved her from the first moment I saw her. Getting to know her came later.” He grunted, shaking his head. “I don’t think I really realized what she was like until after we were married. Long after we were married.”
Carly couldn’t say a word. The sight of his tortured face silenced her.
“She hated the country. She’d grown up in Boston. She felt like she was dying out here, like she was starving for something I couldn’t give her.”
He walked over to the other side of the bed and carefully laid the pantsuit down.
“She used to lie right here in this bed and cry,” he said, standing back and looking at the piece of silk he’d placed there. “She would cry for hours and she wouldn’t tell me why. I’d lie beside her and wrack my brain. What did she want? What wasn’t I doing? What wasn’t I saying? How was I hurting her?”
He sat down on the bed and stared at the pillow. “I tried so hard to make up for it somehow. I brought her flowers, candy, tried to talk to her more, got tickets for shows. I planned a trip to Hawaii. Paid for the tickets. Handed her the itinerary with her birthday cake. She opened the envelope and looked at the plans…and she started to cry again.” He shrugged. “I was going crazy trying to figure out what it was, what I could do to help her.”
He hung his head, silent for a moment. Carly ached to go to him, to wrap her arms around him. But she didn’t dare. Instinct told her he wasn’t ready for that. So she sat frozen, aching with the desire to comfort him and unable to think of a single thing she could do that could possibly ease his pain.
Joe hardly knew she was in the room any longer. He was letting out things he had kept bottled up for much too long, and it almost didn’t matter who heard them.
He just had to get them out. Then, maybe, they would quit eating away at his soul.
“Finally she started talking about it,” he went on. “She’d tell me she felt trapped. That she couldn’t stand it here. She couldn’t stand me anymore. She couldn’t... she couldn’t...” He gritted his teeth and shook his head.
No, he could never repeat what she’d said, never say those words. She’d said she couldn’t stand the kids, but he never wanted them to hear that. Never. He would rather they blamed him for their mother disappearing from their lives. They’d already paid too high a price. He wouldn’t allow them to pay any more.
“I offered to go with her to counseling, but she refused. She didn’t really want to make things better. She just wanted to get out. She wanted something new.”
He looked up and seemed almost startled to see Carly sitting across the bed.
“So she just left?” Carly asked softly.
He nodded. “She packed up, left me a note, took off for San Francisco. I got divorce papers a few weeks later.” He took a deep breath. “I went to see her, to try to talk her into coming back.” His eyes met Carly’s, wide and candid. “It wasn’t that I wanted her back for myself at that point. My love for her had died a long time before. In fact, in some ways I hated her.” He stopped and thought about that for a moment. “But the kids needed her. I wanted her back for the kids.”
Carly nodded. Of course he did. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was his love for his children.
“She said that part of her life was like a bad dream. She didn’t want to be reminded.” His mouth twisted. “And then her new boyfriend walked into the room where we were meeting. He’s a lawyer with a big corporation.” His eyes narrowed and he looked at Carly as though still trying to understand. “They were perfect together. Two of a kind. You could see that she was happy. That this was what she wanted.” His gaze hardened. “I don’t care about that. I’m glad she’s happy. But I can never forgive her for what she’s done to my kids. Never.”
He reached out and slowly gathered the silk pant-suit up into a ball in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, and then threw it back onto the floor where it landed in a pathetic, crumpled pile. After a few moments, he turned to cast Carly a weary smile. “Say, listen. Before you marry this guy, this Mark, make damn sure you know what you’re doing. Don’t end up like we did.” His smile faded. “Don’t do to him what Ellen did to us.”
Carly shook her head. “I could never, ever do that.” She spoke the words with utter conviction.
Cynicism flashed in his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s what they all say.’’ A bitter smile twisted his mouth.
And in that one phrase, Carly knew why he always seemed to have something guarding his emotions, even as he released hers as they had never been released before. Joe was bound and determined never to love again. It was as clear as the pain on his face.
Carly picked up her cell phone and put it back down three times before she finally made up her mind to go ahead and make the call. Mark deserved to know. She couldn’t leave him hanging forever.
It was Saturday afternoon—evening in Washington. He might be home. Well, then she would just have to talk fast and hang up no matter what he said. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the receiver and punched the proper buttons.
The answering service came on. She slumped with relief, and at the beep she quickly gave her message. “Mark, I just have to tell you this. There are things from my past—things I didn’t even realize I needed to know—well, now they make up this puzzle that I have to solve before I can come back. I hope you’ll understand. I know you and I know how impatient you must be with this mumbo jumbo I seem to be obsessed with. But I can’t help it. It’s just the way it is. If you’ve had it with me, I’ll understand, believe me. I have no claim on you at all. Do what you think is best. I’m sorry.”
She hung up and turned the cell phone off. Incoming calls would not be accepted at this point.
There was more she could have told him. “Mark,” she could have said. “There’s a man here with tortured eyes and shoulders so wide they could shelter me in a storm, and I’m getting him all tangled up in my emotions. It may take some time to get him out of my system again. Better not wait, Mark. I have a feeling this is going to take awhile.”
If only there were a way of telling him that without actually telling him that. There should be a way to let someone know hope for renewing a relationship was fading without having to go into the gory details.
She caught her breath and held it. What was she saying here? That things were over for her and Mark? She’d come to find herself so that she could go back to him refreshed and recommitted. Instead, she’d gotten herself hopelessly lost. It was hardly fair to say every thing was over. Maybe if she just saw Mark again…
But no, she was afraid not. Could Mark blot out Joe’s shadowed eyes? Could she ever forget that kiss that had left her feeling like melted rubber? She was tangled up all right. And she’d never been all that good at getting rid of snarls.
Carly was out working in the garden when Millie arrived. Joe hadn’t said anything about his meeting with his old friend, but Carly had been expecting her just the same. She rose as Millie’s car came up the drive, pulling off the muddy gloves and going to meet her.
“Get in,” Millie suggested. “Let’s drive out by the lake. I want to talk to you.”
Carly had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, but she did as Millie suggested. Millie backed out of the driveway and headed for the highway, driving slowly, not in any particular hurry. Neither of them spoke more than a few words. Carly sat very still and looked out the window at the changing landscape.
Millie turned her car off onto a dirt road that led them on a bumpy ride up and down a series of hills, threading their way between rows and rows of bright green trees. The air was filled with the scent of crushed lemon leaves and sweet lemon blossoms.
Carly began to relax and enjoy the ride. It was amazing how comfortable she felt in this area now. She’d only been here a little over a week, but she felt at home. Ancestral memory maybe. Or maybe she was just a country girl at heart.
She grinned, thinking that, and Millie said, “What’s so funny?”
“Life,” she answered promptly, and then wished she hadn’t. From all evidence, Millie’s life had been anything but a day at the beach.
They had crested the last hill and were looking down at the sparkling blue water of the ocean. Millie pulled into a cutout that gave them a beautiful view and turned off the engine.
“There’s Destiny Bay down below,” she told Carly. “Funny. It doesn’t feel like we’re this close to the ocean, does it? But once you get up here, you can see it.”
“It’s lovely,” Carly said.
Millie nodded. “I come up here and just stare at the water when I really need to think,” she said. She stared at it now. “Oh Carly, Carly. What are you doing?” she said softly.
Carly suddenly felt very cold. “I’m looking for my father, Millie. That’s all.”
“No, Carly. That’s not all.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel. “You’re taking each one of us out of our lives and making us into something we weren’t before you came here.”
Carly blinked. She hardly thought that Millie was being fair. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Millie. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“No.” Millie’s dark eyes turned toward her, huge and sorrowful. “I’m sure you don’t mean to hurt anyone. The problem is, you don’t understand the harm you’re doing.”
Carly made a gesture of impatience. “Then explain it to me.”
Millie smiled and reached out, her hand gently touching Carly’s silver-blond hair with candid affection. “You don’t understand anything, Carly,” she said, her voice dreamy. “You don’t understand how I feel about you. How much I care.”
Carly frowned. “I like you too, Millie. I think we could be good friends—“
“Oh Carly.” She patted Carly’s cheek and turned away with a wistful smile. “We’re tied together in ways you don’t understand. I care for you almost as though you were a part of my own family.”
The woman was acting in a very puzzling way and Carly wasn’t sure she liked it. Why couldn’t anyone be straight around here? Why couldn’t everyone just be open and aboveboard and let the chips fall where they might?
And that was what she wanted to communicate to Millie. Taking a deep breath, she said, “If you care so much about me, why won’t you tell me the truth?” She turned so she could keep Millie from avoiding her gaze. “What is it that you know about my father?”
Millie looked pained. “I’m not going to talk to you about your father,” she said softly. “I really don’t know anything that would do you any good.”
Carly sat back and fought hard to hold back the surge of anger that threatened to explode and destroy what little hope she had of making any headway here. “Well, if you won’t tell me the truth, at least do it for your son,” she said evenly. “You have to tell Trevor who his father is. He needs to know. Do you know that he thinks Joe is his father?”
Millie closed her eyes and nodded. “Joe told me.”
“You had no idea?”
She was silent for a long moment. “I think I did have an idea that he might think Joe was his father. I ignored it. I think he’s probably thought that for a long time, and I’ve let him.”
Carly wanted to shake her. Did these people think they could go on living in a dream world forever? “Why?”
“Because it was easy. Because there was no other man I could lean on, who would be a father image for Trevor, and I knew he needed that. It made him feel loved, it made him feel connected.”
“But when he realizes the truth—“
“I know.” She sighed. “Life isn’t funny, Carly. It’s hard. Decisions are hard. Especially when they involve children. That’s the hardest... to know the right thing to do. You’re never sure. You never know until everything is over and it’s too late to change whether you’ve taken the right road.”
She was going to resist feeling sorry for the woman. There was too much at stake to give way to sentimentality. Staring straight ahead, Carly said calmly, “Tell me about Trevor’s father, Millie.”
Millie moved as though trying to ward off her words. “I don’t want to,” she said, her voice so quiet it could barely be heard.
Carly stood firm. “Tell me anyway,” she said. It wasn’t what she really wanted to know, but at this point she felt as though the more secrets she could force out into the o
pen, the more likely it was that her own past would come into focus.
To her surprise, Millie didn’t need any more coaxing. She started softly, her words stilted, measured. “I was barely sixteen,” she said. “He was older, much older, and I was dying for some love in my life.”
Carly looked at her in surprise. “But your family...?”
Millie shook her head. “What can I say about my family? My parents came from an old-fashioned tradition. Showing love and affection wasn’t in them. They worked hard and expected me to do the same. I’m sure they must have loved me, but they didn’t think it was necessary to express that love in any way. I was an only child and it was so silent in my house. So very silent.”
Her voice trembled and she waited to calm herself before she went on.
“So I went outside and tried to develop other interests. I tried to find acceptance from others. For some reason that was a lonely year for me. My best friend had just moved away and Joe was a senior and totally involved in senior activities and girlfriends and sports. I felt so alone. And then I met... him.”
For a moment, Carly thought she wasn’t going to be able to go on, her voice was so shaky. But she stiffened her resolve and began again.
“He was so different. He talked about things I’d never thought about before. He opened the world up to me. And when he felt emotion, he let you see it.” A teary smile lit her face as she remembered. “He touched. He laughed. He wept. And I was so hungry for everything he was, everything he had.”
She sighed and used an embroidered hankie to wipe the tears that were dropping from her eyes.
“It wasn’t his fault, you know,” she said earnestly, turning toward Carly. “The affair, I mean. I came on pretty strong. I was so dumb. I threw myself at him as only a naive sixteen-year-old girl can. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. To see him respond to me... to know someone cared—it was heaven. And so I did everything I could to hold him. And it was so wrong.”