Three Brides, No Groom

by Debbie Macomber

  Clark helped her in other ways, too. He diverted her from obsessing about Eddie. Thoughts of him didn’t plague her as they once had. She was no longer in a state of constant anticipation, metaphorically sitting on the edge of her seat, waiting for him to phone, to knock at her front door. He hadn’t and he wouldn’t. She knew that now. But her life had ceased to feel so empty without him.

  They saw each other once, sometimes twice, a week, but always on a casual basis. She didn’t consider their outings dates. They were friends. Good friends. Nothing less, nothing more, nothing else. And she absolutely did not let herself think about what they’d heard his parents saying on Thanksgiving.

  She looked at Mrs. Derby, who was waiting as if uncertain she was doing the right thing. At last the woman spoke.

  “I suppose you’ve noticed how late Mr. Rusbach sometimes works,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s here all hours of the day and night!” Mrs. Derby blurted, and the outer rims of her ears turned crimson.

  “I wondered…” Carol admitted, frowning. Clark had seemed overly preoccupied of late.

  “He needs to take better care of himself.” This last part was almost whispered. Mrs. Derby would rather die than be accused of unprofessional behavior. In her mind, discussing her employer’s work habits bordered on conduct unbecoming. “He’ll listen to you,” she went on, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one could hear.

  “So you want me to…” Carol trailed off, uncertain.

  “You see, Mr. Rusbach forgets about the time.”

  That sounded like Clark, all right. The man was a computer genius, but time seemed to have no meaning for him.

  “You’ll come, won’t you?” the other woman gently pleaded. “I don’t mean every night, just some nights.” She paused, looking flustered. “Like tonight.”

  Carol hesitated, still wondering exactly what it was Mrs. Derby wanted. “Are you saying you want me to tell Clark it’s quitting time?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. I worry about him. The nights he’s meeting you, he can’t get out of here fast enough. You make him happy, and I can see he makes you happy, too. I don’t mind telling you how pleased I am with the way things are developing between you two. Lots of young women these days let their heads be turned by men with more brawn than brains.” She pursed her lips, revealing her disapproval.

  Apparently now wouldn’t be a good time to mention that she and Clark were only friends.

  “I’ve tried talking to him,” Mrs. Derby said with resignation. “Some of the other staff members have, as well. He listens, or at least it appears he listens. But he never actually changes his behavior. This morning I arrived for work and discovered Mr. Rusbach hadn’t gone home.”

  “You mean he stayed the entire night?”

  Mrs. Derby nodded, then worried her lower lip as if she regretted having said so much.

  “I doubt I’ll be much help. I—”

  “Oh, but you will be,” Mrs. Derby insisted.

  Carol had trouble believing it, but she said “All right” anyway. She might not possess an IQ as high as Clark’s, but she knew better than to get on the wrong side of Mrs. Derby.

  * * *

  At five-thirty, as promised, Carol arrived at Clark’s office. Mrs. Derby, who was cleaning off her desk for the night, glanced up and shared a conspiratorial smile with her.

  “Everyone else has left for the night,” she whispered.

  “Go on home, Mrs. Derby,” Carol said. “I’ll make sure Clark leaves at a decent hour.”

  The other woman beamed. “I know you will.”

  Carol wasn’t convinced she had as much influence on Clark as Mrs. Derby believed. He revealed all the signs of a workaholic; even his mother had said so during Thanksgiving dinner two weeks earlier. It would take a lot more than a gentle prod to distract him from his mission.

  Right now he was sitting in front of a computer, fully involved with whatever he was doing.

  “Clark,” she said softly from behind him.

  He glanced over his shoulder, and when he saw her, he frowned. “What are you doing here?” Not exactly the warmest of greetings.

  It was all she could do to keep from glancing over her own shoulder and asking Mrs. Derby for the answer. As it was, she caught sight of the older woman giving her an I-told-you-so look on her way out the door.

  “It’s quitting time,” she said.

  “I know.” He returned his attention to the monitor. “Had we planned to meet?”

  “No…not really.”

  He glanced up at her. “Is everything all right?”

  She faltered, unsure how to respond. This wasn’t going well.

  “Carol?”

  “Everything’s wonderful,” she said too quickly. She had his full attention now, when she was least prepared to deal with it.

  He studied her, then blinked. In that split second she realized what must have been behind Mrs. Derby’s concern. Something must have gone wrong with the software. Without leaking delicate information, the woman had been attempting to tell her that something was wrong without letting on exactly what it was.

  In his effort to discover the solution, Clark had driven himself to the point of exhaustion. He desperately needed a break. Then and only then would his mind relax enough to release the solution. And there was one. Carol believed that with all her being. For every negative there was a positive, for every push a pull. She’d seen it happen time and time again.

  He undoubtedly knew that, too, but being the intense individual he was, he didn’t have the patience to wait for the answer to reveal itself. He wanted a solution, and he wanted it now.

  “How about dinner?” she asked, saying the first thing that popped into her head.

  “You buying?” he joked.

  “No, cooking.” She had carefully budgeted every penny over the holidays, and she had no choice. She mentally reviewed the contents of her cupboards, and she groaned inwardly while plastering a smile on her face. She had no clue what she could possibly prepare that didn’t come out of a can.

  “You cook?”

  “I’ve been known to,” she said.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing special. I guess I just don’t want to be alone tonight.” She lowered her eyelashes for fear he would see through her scheme to drag him away from the office.

  Perhaps he wanted to believe her. She didn’t know, but before she realized it, he’d turned off the computer.

  “I’ll need to come back,” he said.

  “Tonight? Here?”

  He looked at her as though he had no clue what she was asking.

  “You’re coming back to work after dinner?” she elaborated.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Probably.”

  She restrained herself from chastising him. He wouldn’t listen, and she doubted it would do any good. If anything, it might put a strain on their friendship, and she certainly didn’t want to do that.

  She needn’t have worried. When they got to her house, he sat in front of the television while she sorted through her cupboards in a futile attempt to scrounge up an appetizing meal. While deciding between tuna casserole and boxed macaroni-and-cheese, she glanced into the living room. Clark was sound asleep on the couch. Obviously her company was less scintillating than she wanted to believe. If Mrs. Derby hadn’t clued her in to his exhaustion, she might have been insulted.

  Retrieving the afghan her mother had crocheted for her, she carefully placed it over him. He roused briefly, his eyes fluttering open, when she removed his shoes, but she could see it was too much of a struggle for him to stay awake.

  “Rest,” she whispered, and smoothed the hair from his brow. The idea of kissing him came out of nowhere. Without stopping to gauge the wisdom of giving in to the impulse, she bent forward and gently pressed her lips to his.

  The kiss was sweet, simple and wonderful. Her heart swelled with tenderness. He’d been such a good friend. She smiled, reme
mbering their adventures while Christmas shopping and how they’d laughed over a delicate lacy nightie he claimed he was considering for Mrs. Derby. Then he suggested maybe he should purchase it for her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  She straightened, then dimmed the lights. She couldn’t seem to leave him alone and checked to be sure he was comfortable a number of times. She tucked the blanket more securely around his shoulders and ran her hand lightly over his brow. The urge to kiss him again was strong, stronger than it should have been. It worried her a little, though surely the feeling came only from an appreciation of everything he’d done for her. Nothing more.

  Suddenly she wasn’t so sure of that.

  What Mrs. Derby had said disturbed her. She had mentioned how pleased she was with the way things were developing between them. At the time Carol had been tempted to ask what things, but she’d stopped herself. Perhaps she’d been afraid of the answer. Then there was that time, ages ago, when she’d challenged Clark to name someone better suited to her than Eddie, and he had suggested himself.

  It had been a joke, right? Ego alone had prompted that. But then she thought about how his parents seemed to believe she and Clark were a match. He’d never mentioned what they’d overheard his parents say, and she had assumed that was because he wanted to spare her any embarrassment.

  All right, so maybe a case could be built that Clark was at least a little bit in love with her. But she didn’t want to believe that, because then she would be forced to confront her own feelings for him.

  She liked him so much. She didn’t know what she would have done without him all these months. He’d helped her through the most difficult time of her life with warmth, understanding, compassion and humor.

  She sat down and braced her elbows on her knees as she studied his sleeping face. His features had relaxed, and the shadows under his eyes were gone, along with the worry lines that normally marked his forehead.

  Her chin resting in her hands, she mulled over her feelings for Clark. Did she love him? And if so, why was it so important that she deal with the feeling now? He was by far the best friend she’d ever had, and it was common knowledge that friends often made the best lovers.

  What about Eddie? Yes, he was a creep, and he’d hurt her terribly, but she wasn’t convinced she knew how not to love him. She knew it was over, but he’d been a big part of her life for so long.

  The phone pealed, and she leaped to her feet, not wanting Clark to wake up. Grabbing the cordless, she pressed it to her ear. “Hello,” she whispered fiercely into the receiver, annoyed with the caller’s timing.

  “Carol, is that you?”

  “Eddie?” His name rushed from her lips. Her knees felt as if they were about to give out. Bracing her back against the wall, she slid to a sitting position on the floor. For months she’d dreamed about this, been consumed by it. And now that he’d phoned, it didn’t seem possible. She feared it was a hoax. That someone somewhere was playing a cruel joke on her. But it sounded like Eddie.

  “Is it really you?” she asked, afraid to believe what her heart and head were telling her.

  “How’s it going, sweetheart?” he asked, as cheerful as a five-year-old.

  “Good,” she responded, without thinking. “How about you?”

  “Fabulous. Fabulous.”

  She yearned to kiss him senseless, and in the same breath, the same heartbeat, she wanted to scratch his eyes out. How narrow the line between love and hate could be. Now that he’d phoned after all these lonely months, how quickly she was willing to forgive him.

  Or was she?

  The joy she’d experienced when she realized it was Eddie died a quick and sudden death. Eddie, who’d purposely waited until after graduation to cancel the engagement. Eddie, who’d led her to believe they were to be married long after he’d known he wasn’t going to go through with it. Eddie, who’d abandoned her without a qualm.

  The line, charged with emotion seconds earlier, went strangely quiet.

  “So, Carol,” he asked, “are you teaching?”

  It was all she could do not to tell him she was lucky to be subbing, thanks to him. Even if she had said it, the sarcasm would have flown right over his head. Eddie heard what he wanted to hear and nothing else.

  “I know you must be a wonderful teacher,” he added. But he couldn’t fool her. She knew him much too well. He was worried about whether she was mad at him or not.

  “I’ve been doing some substituting,” she explained, keeping her voice calm. “When I’m not working for the school district, I’m doing some work at Softline.”

  “Softline,” Eddie repeated. “Isn’t that where…what’s-his-name went? Clark the geek?”

  Eddie would never think of Clark in any other way. Everyone remained one-dimensional to him because Eddie himself was one-dimensional. “Yes, geek,” she echoed, knowing it would do no good to remind him that Clark was brilliant. It would take a dozen Eddies to make one Clark. No, a thousand Eddies.

  The stiff silence hummed like a buzz saw between them.

  “Does Mark know you’re calling?” she asked bluntly.

  “No,” he admitted reluctantly.

  “Then why’d you phone?”

  His laugh was forced. “What Mark doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Anyway, I’ve only got one more game till the season’s over.”

  The team was paying him megabucks to stand on the sidelines and be prepared to step in if necessary. After being the star player at Queen Anne’s for four glorious years, it must have been painful for him to stand idly by and watch someone else collect all the glory.

  In a blink of an eye Carol understood. His phone call made sense now, perfect sense. He missed her, all right, because she wasn’t there to soothe his ego, to pat his back and tell him how wonderful he was. That was Mark’s job now, but Mark wasn’t her. He wouldn’t have her knack for what had always been her specialty—ego damage control. And his poor ego must have taken quite a beating over the past several months.

  He wanted her. He needed her, and despite everything she knew about him, being needed felt awfully good just then.

  “Are you glad I phoned?” he asked in a little-boy voice that told her he was craving assurance. Not just anyone’s, either. Hers. Only hers.

  Poor guy. Poor, pathetic guy.

  She delayed answering, wanting him to suffer. “It depends on the reason why you phoned, don’t you think?”

  He hesitated and lowered his voice slightly. “I thought we could talk about that later.”

  “Really?” This was proving to be more interesting by the moment. “When?”

  “Next weekend.”

  She held her breath while she debated what to do. She really should give him a piece of her mind right then and there. Tell him exactly what she thought about him—in small words, so he would be sure to understand. It was what he deserved. A swift kick in the butt, and then she would be done with him once and for all.

  But she didn’t.

  “Dinner,” he added, his voice dipping to a husky murmur. “Just you and me, the way it used to be.”

  She wasn’t even tempted. Her head snapped up, and she inhaled sharply when she recognized the truth. She was free. Free from Eddie. Free from the endless waiting. Free to move on with her life.

  All the weeks, all the months, of mourning her lost love were over once and for all. Her father had insisted she’d made a fortunate escape, and for the first time she acknowledged that he was right.

  Eddie was selfish and egotistical. She wanted no part of him. Not now. Not ever.

  “What do you say, sweetheart?” he prodded gently.

  In the nick of time she bit back the words telling him what he could do with his invitation. He wanted things to be the way they used to be. He wanted her back, and was willing to sweet-talk her if necessary.

  Well, by heaven, she would let him. He could talk all he wanted, get down on his knees and grovel, but it would do no good. She would take pleasure in laughing
in his face.

  “Dinner?” she asked, wanting to make sure they were meeting in a public place with lots of witnesses.

  “Sure—anyplace you want. Anyplace. I’ve missed you, Carol. Tell me you’ve missed me, too,” he murmured.

  “Why?”

  “I need you to say it. I need you to tell me you’ve thought about me.”

  She hesitated, almost choking on the words as they slid past her tongue. “I’ve missed you,” she said, and while it was the truth, it wasn’t the whole truth. In the beginning, she’d missed him desperately; her heart had been breaking. Not any longer.

  “Wear that blue dress I used to love, will you?” he asked with the same breathless quality he’d used when he’d first seen her in the skintight satin dress.

  “All right, I’ll wear the blue dress,” she said, smiling. She had every intention of doing as he asked. She wanted his mouth to drop open when she walked into the room. Wanted him to know exactly what he was losing.

  “Will there be champagne?” she asked softly.

  “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

  “Where are we eating?” Wherever it was, it had to be expensive. Very expensive. Not only would she derive a great deal of delight in flaunting herself, but she wanted to be sure she ordered the priciest meal on the menu before she walked out on him.

  He named one of the best restaurants in town. “Is that good enough for my sweetheart?” he asked.

  “That’s perfect.” Lots of people would be there while she made a fool of him.

  This was too good to be true. After all these months she was going to have her revenge. She knew that if she were noble and mature, she would be frank but kind and tell him there was no hope of their ever getting back together. She toyed with the idea for perhaps two seconds, then rejected it.

  She wanted to see Eddie squirm. It was what he deserved, and she was looking forward to making sure it was talked about around town.

  “Saturday, then,” he said.

  “Saturday.”

  A moment later she turned off the phone. With her eyes closed, she contemplated the conversation. This was good. Better than good. Though she hadn’t known it until now, this was what she’d been waiting for.