by Julie Caille
Why had he tried to hurt her? Even now, he didn’t know. He’d wanted to protect her, love her, heal her. Instead, he had lashed out like some half-crazed animal with its leg in a trap.
Aren’t you even going to ask why?
Her question drifted through his head, floating in a sea of disconnected phrases. At the time, he’d known she wasn’t referring to her dress, but he’d chosen to misinterpret her question. Now he wondered what she’d meant. What had she been saying? It had been just after she’d told him that Easton had proposed.
He couldn’t remember.
No, wait. She’d said she was considering Easton’s offer. She’d also told him why. She was marrying the man because she felt sorry for him. Because she didn’t want him hurt again. Luke’s insides twisted. Damn it, what about him? How come Easton’s suffering was more important than his?
Maybe she didn’t even know he was hurting.
Maybe he should have told her he loved her.
Those words had never been easy for him to say. Long ago, Alicia had said them to him, but he didn’t think he’d ever said them back. He’d wanted to, but he hadn’t been very good at communicating his deepest feelings. He still wasn’t.
I love you.
Only a few people besides Alicia had ever said those words to him. His real mother. Ruth and Walter Garrick. Richard. Ronnie. And, most recently, Christina. Important people, special people. Yet sometimes that other period of his life—the years when he’d known no love at all—caught him in such a stranglehold that he couldn’t speak.
He remembered the first dour set of foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt. He’d been six years old and aching for his mother, plagued with nightmares and trying not to cry. He’d tried to offer his love to Mrs. Schmidt. He’d whispered, “I love you,” into her ear one night when he’d soiled his sheets and she’d gotten up in the night to change them.
And she’d answered, “Don’t be silly. Now go back to sleep, and let’s have no more accidents.”
He’d not said the words again until his adoptive mother, Ruth Garrick, lay dying in her bed. Oh, he’d shown his love for her and for Walter in other ways. He’d expressed that love by legally changing his surname from Larney to Garrick when he was fourteen, and in a thousand other ways before that. But never in that one special way. And when he’d finally done it, when he’d finally said the words, Ruth had smiled, patted his hand and whispered, “I know, dear. I love you, too.”
So the words weren’t hard to say. He knew that. After all, he’d been saying them for years to Ronnie. His lips knew how to form the syllables, just as his heart understood their meaning.
Three simple words. Why hadn’t he said them to Alicia?
Because his worst fear had always been that they wouldn’t make any difference.
* * *
Alicia zipped her suitcases closed and glanced around the room that had been hers for the past few weeks. The bed was made, the drawers and closet empty. She’d left nothing. The room looked just the way it had when she’d first walked in. Her presence had been easily erased.
Four nightmare days had passed since her showdown with Luke. They’d barely spoken since then, even though she’d wrapped up a few items of business at his store. The guys there had bought her a gift, a selection of bath soaps and lotions picked out by one of their wives. Dave had given her a small bracelet. Woody had given her a hug.
She’d said her goodbyes to Sharon’s family yesterday evening, and to Joey and Nora the evening before. Joey would be returning to work in November, so Luke would be on his own until then. Joey had told her not to worry. Luke had said he could manage.
True to her word, she’d helped Ronnie complete his contest entry and made sure he got a copy of it into the mail. He’d worked so hard on it, given so much, and she wanted him to keep the original. Despite what Luke had said, she believed the project had done Ronnie some good. Ever since he’d started on the story, he’d seemed less rebellious, less inclined to shut himself up in his room to cry. The temper tantrums had tapered off and so had the nightmares. Even Mrs. Glover had noticed a difference, for she’d sent home a note stating that Ronnie’s behavior had improved.
This morning’s parting with Ronnie had been excruciating, and she preferred not to think about it. Ronnie would not be accompanying her to the airport since her flight left while he was in school. All in all, he’d accepted the news of her departure rather well, though when she’d first told him, he’d burst into tears. Later, he’d given her one of his dinosaur pictures to post on her refrigerator. He’d also made her promise to write to him, and he’d promised to come visit.
But now the worst moment had arrived.
Nauseous with dread, she set her luggage outside the bedroom door and went back for her cosmetic case. Footsteps approached from the direction of Luke’s bedroom.
“Are you ready?”
She steeled herself to turn and look at him. Framed in the doorway, he stood tall and remote, impassive and unreachable. The tender and passionate man who’d made love to her was gone, and in his place she saw a stranger.
“Yes,” she said bleakly.
Without comment, he carried her suitcases down the stairs. Alicia followed in silence. At the foot of the staircase, Daffy ambled up, her tail wagging, her liquid eyes bright with pleasure.
“Goodbye, Daffodil. Be a good girl.” Alicia set down her things and hugged the collie, her throat aching with the need to cry.
But she didn’t. On the way to the airport, a curious calm settled over her, as though she had stumbled into the quiescence at the center of some great hurricane. Neither pain nor joy nor sorrow could touch her here, in this anesthetic void, and she welcomed it.
As they neared the terminal, Luke finally spoke. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
She shook her head. “There’s no need.”
More silence.
He pulled in at the passenger unloading area and shut off the engine, but instead of getting out, he just sat there. Unperturbed, Alicia reached for the handle of the door.
“Wait.” Luke’s voice was abrupt.
“What is it?” She didn’t look at him; instead she stared at the dashboard. Ronnie had written his name in the dust.
“You said Easton loves you. What would you say if I told you...I love you, too?”
Her heart leapt, plunged, then settled back into its state of icy detachment. “I’d say you should have told me that a long time ago. If it’s true.”
“You think I’m making it up?”
As though they were discussing two other people, she considered the question. “I think you wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the face. I’ve already been married to a man who said he loved me, then showed me otherwise. Nick won’t do that.” She paused. “With Nick, I’ll be safe.”
She turned away, opened the door and got out. Several seconds later, Luke did likewise. He removed her suitcases from the back of the truck and carried them over to the baggage check-in line. For a few throbbing seconds, their gazes met.
Neither of them said goodbye.
Chapter Fourteen
Alicia tucked a file folder under her arm and walked briskly down the corridor toward her office. The morning’s presentation had gone so well that her boss had commended her afterward, hinting that Alicia’s annual evaluation would be very favorable. If Phyllis had her way, Alicia would be getting an advancement in labor grade as well as a substantial and long-overdue raise. This news, plus the advent of a four-day weekend, should have put Alicia into a celebratory mood. But it didn’t.
“Hey, Alicia, have a good holiday!”
Alicia spun around and smiled at the male co-worker who had addressed her. “Same to you, Sam. Happy Thanksgiving!”
She waved to two more acquaintances and entered her office, dropping the folder onto her desk with a sigh. Sitting down, she kicked off her heels and massaged her aching feet. Then, for the umpteenth time since she’d received it, she reached for her
purse and withdrew Ronnie’s last letter.
It was a simple letter, full of innocent chatter. He told her he was doing well in school. He’d been invited to Tara’s birthday party. Tara liked him now. He thought she was okay. Daffy was fine. He was fine. Uncle Luke was fine. Brian was fine.
But it was the end of his letter that caught at her heart.
I miss you a lot. At nite I think of you. So duz unkel Luke. I know cuz I asked him. I wish you were here. So duz unkel Luke. I love you. So duz unkel Luke.
love Ronnie
“Oh, you’re still here. I thought Phyllis might let you leave early.”
Alicia glanced up to see a friend, Janet Jewell, lounging in the doorway. “She did. I was just about to pack up. What about you?”
Janet grinned. “I’ll be bailing out in half an hour. You going to visit your folks?”
“Yes.” Alicia grimaced. “I’m dreading the drive, though. I hope the traffic around New York isn’t as bad as last year.”
“It will be,” Janet predicted. “You’ll get stuck for hours on the George Washington Bridge.”
“Thanks, I really needed to hear that.”
“Well, at least it’s not snowing. Give me a call if you change your mind. You can always come and have turkey with me and Pete. Pete’s brother will be there. You know, the unmarried one with the Mel Gibson eyes.”
Alicia couldn’t help but smile. “I wish I could, but my parents are expecting me. They’d be hurt if I didn’t go.”
After Janet left, it seemed a lot quieter. Voices and laughter rippled in the distance, but they were far away. The silence in Alicia’s office pressed against her like a living thing, pushing her spirits down into the same black pit she’d existed in for the past two months. Outside, the sky was overcast, which did nothing to improve her mood.
Sighing, she slipped her shoes back on, picked up her purse and coat and locked up her office. As she headed for the elevator, a part of her wanted to run back and take Janet up on her offer. Thanksgiving with her parents was bound to be painful, especially since this would be the first time they’d all been together since the funeral. Besides, she just didn’t feel like she had a lot to be thankful for this year, and she doubted her parents did, either.
The southward drive to New Jersey proved as trying as she’d feared. Although the highways weren’t slick, they were choked with vehicles; everyone in the world seemed to be traveling somewhere, everyone was in a hurry, and the result was chaos. As the miles and hours slid by, Alicia tried not to dwell on the knowledge that the two people she most longed to see wouldn’t be there to greet her at the end of her journey. She played the radio, sang along with the songs she knew, tried to cheer herself up. But to no avail.
When at last she pulled into her parents’ driveway, it was nearly eight o’clock, a good hour later than she’d hoped to arrive. Sadness overwhelmed her as she shut off the engine and gazed up at her childhood home, a small white colonial illuminated by lamps at either side of the blue front door. The sight revived so many memories—memories of Caroline, memories of Luke—but she pushed them aside.
Somehow they’d all get through this holiday, then she’d go back to Boston and go on, just as her parents would go on. Life didn’t stop because people were unhappy. She’d found that out for herself.
Stiff and weary, Alicia climbed out of the car just as her mother emerged from the house. The wind whipped Alicia’s hair as she locked the car door and walked up the sidewalk to meet her mother. As always, the two women made an awkward attempt at an embrace.
“Mother, you shouldn’t be out without a coat. How are you?”
“I’m fine, dear, but you’re later than I expected. We’ve held dinner for you.”
“My suitcase—”
“Your father will get it. Come along. You must be famished.”
Once inside, in the brighter light, she could see that Caroline’s death had taken a visible toll. Her mother looked older, the lines in her face much deeper than they had been before. Her father, too, appeared to have aged, for he seemed grayer, more tired and stooped.
“Hello, Daddy,” she said as he helped her off with her coat. “I’m sorry I’m late. I hope you weren’t worried.”
“We always worry about you, honey. How was the drive?”
Familiar smells and sights engulfed her as they led her toward the dining room. She was home. And yet she wasn’t home, really, for her soul had moved on to another house, a house she might never set foot in again.
To her relief, neither parent mentioned Caroline or Richard, either during the meal or afterward when they’d gathered in the den. Instead, her mother spoke of her Latin students, her father of his physics textbook. Content to listen to anything that did not hit a raw nerve, Alicia relaxed, curled in one corner of the sofa with a glass of wine at her elbow.
In due course, her father excused himself and retired to his study, leaving her alone with her mother. Alicia braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions. Her mother didn’t disappoint her.
“I haven’t heard you mention Nick Easton lately,” the older woman remarked the moment her husband was gone.
Alicia reached for her wine. “That’s because there isn’t anything to say.” She took a sip and set down the goblet. “I haven’t seen him in weeks.”
“That’s a pity. I was hoping something would come of it.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
“I suppose he met someone else while you were gone. That’s the way of men, I’m afraid. Out of sight, out of mind. You ought to have realized that.”
Nettled, Alicia retorted, “As a matter of fact, he didn’t forget me. He even flew to Houston to see me.”
“Then what went wrong? What did you do?”
Too tired and depressed to be diplomatic, Alicia’s temper flared. “I didn’t do anything! It’s just that he asked me to marry him and I turned him down. Naturally, things have cooled between us.”
“You turned him down? But why?”
“Because I don’t love him. And because—” Alicia couldn’t stop her reaction; all of a sudden her throat worked and tears stung her eyes. “Because I’m in love with someone else. Someone you and Daddy wouldn’t approve of.”
She didn’t know why she’d blurted that out. She never confided in her mother. Never. The only possible explanation was that the confidences she’d shared with Sharon had somehow eased her into the habit.
“Luke Garrick,” her mother guessed with a sigh. She gazed at Alicia, her blue eyes sorrowful. “I was afraid this would happen. Alicia, how can you make the same mistake twice? The man isn’t your intellectual equal. If you’d married him—”
“He is so my equal,” Alicia interrupted fiercely. She straightened her spine, her hands clenched into fists. “If I’d married him, I’d have been happy. I’d probably have children right now and a real home instead of all this emptiness—”
“He doesn’t have the education that you—”
“So what? Just because he can’t conjugate Latin verbs or derive Schr;auodinger’s equation doesn’t make him a lesser man. Do you know what dyslexia is? I’ve been reading about it lately because I found out Luke is dyslexic—not just a little bit dyslexic, but a lot. And yet you should see what he’s made of his life! You should see his store and his home. You should see him with Ronnie. Your grandson adores his uncle, and with damn good reason. Luke is worth a million of Kenny, and I wish—” Wetness escaped her eyes to trickle down her cheeks. “I just wish you c-could...see that...”
Her mother rose and moved across the room to the sofa. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” A few seconds slipped by, then the older woman’s thin arms enfolded her daughter.
Neither of them spoke. Alicia accepted the embrace, her cheek pressed to her mother’s shoulder while she struggled to regain her composure. The scent of gardenias drifted to her nose, conjuring up long-ago memories that made her want to cling to her mother and weep.
&nbs
p; After what seemed like a long time, her mother said, “I do know what dyslexia is. I’ve had dyslexic students. Many of them are embarrassed about their disability and don’t want people to know. They’re afraid people will think they’re stupid.”
“That’s Luke,” Alicia whispered. “But I shouldn’t have told you. He wouldn’t want you to know.”
“It’s better that I do,” her mother said dryly. “The question is how are we going to fix matters? I take it things aren’t working out between the two of you?”
“No, but he and I...we’re past fixing.”
“Nonsense, where’s your Brant determination? Think of Caroline. What would she have said? Give up? Don’t aim for what you want?”
Reflecting that she’d already aimed and missed by a mile, Alicia gave a watery smile and said, “Mother, did you know Caroline was having marital problems?”
Mrs. Brant’s sigh ruffled Alicia’s hair. “Oh, yes,” her mother said heavily. “And it devastated me. She told me she wanted to be more like you. You had the strength to go through with a divorce, and she admired that. She had a tremendous admiration for you, you know.”
Stunned, Alicia lifted her head. “No, I didn’t know. I always admired her. In fact, I thought she was perfect.”
“I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t perfect. None of us is.” Her mother hesitated, seeming to struggle within herself. “Alicia, if I’ve ever made you think I wasn’t proud of you, I’m sorry. I was bitterly disappointed about Kenneth, and I know I said things that weren’t tactful. I thought you’d brought your problems on yourself by neglecting your husband for your work. But Caroline made me see that it wasn’t your fault.” She paused. “I’ve wanted to apologize for a long time, but...I didn’t know how.”
Alicia gazed straight into her mother’s blue eyes. She’d come this far; she might as well be completely honest. “Yes, I thought you weren’t proud of me. I even thought—” She stopped and drew a breath. “I thought you loved Caroline best. I’ve spent my whole life trying to earn your love and Daddy’s. Do you remember Great-Aunt Louisa? When I was eight, she told me that I had been an accident. You and Daddy had only wanted one child, but I came along anyway. After that, I always felt like an outsider.”