Desperate Measures

by Fern Michaels

  He moved to the little alcove off the kitchen. He felt like a spy as he watched her walk around. He could hear her murmuring to herself, but the words didn’t carry to where he was standing. He watched as she moved to the window over the sink, watched as her hands marked off sections of the sill. She was measuring it for the little red pots she would someday have on her own windowsill. He felt his throat constrict when she turned and walked to the fireplace. She backed up, advanced, and positioned an invisible rocking chair and then a second rocking chair. He saw her sit down on the hearth and drop her head into her hands. His heart flopped in his chest. His feet itched to move. He wanted to run to her, to put his arms around her. Then his eyebrows shot up when she got up and twirled about the middle of the floor. He clamped his hand over his mouth when he heard her say tearfully, “If I can’t have this, then I’m glad Pete’s going to have it.” He did move then, and was standing in the living room when Annie scooted past him.

  He looked around, really seeing the house. Annie was wrong. This wasn’t a Maddie house at all. It was an Annie house.

  Suddenly he wanted to bawl. He wished Barney was here so he could run to him and tell him of his discovery. He was buying an Annie house and not a Maddie house. What’s it mean, Barney?

  “I bet the stars are brighter up here at night,” Annie said a while later, as it was getting dark. “Bet the moon is brighter too. During the day I just know you’ll see cotton-ball clouds and blue sky. When was the last time you saw blue sky, Pete?”

  “You going to pin me down on that one?” Pete grumbled.

  “Nah, let’s eat, I’m starving.”

  The tablecloth and napkins, compliments of the Range Rover people, were checkered green and white. Annie spread everything out on the dock. “Help yourself,” she said, reaching for a golden-fried chicken leg.

  “Look, that’s a fish. Did you see that, Pete? A fish jumped out of the water. You have fish. You can sit here on the dock and dangle your feet in the water and fish. God, how lucky can one person get? Trust me, Maddie is going to love this. Ooops, sorry I forgot.”

  “Do you really think she’ll like it, Annie?”

  “Pete, what’s not to like? It’s perfect. It has everything.”

  “It’s pretty big.”

  “That’s true. You clean one room at a time. How dirty can two people make a place? I guess you can get a cleaning woman to come in one day a week to clean the kitchen and bathrooms and dust. It’s no big deal. When you have something this pretty, you want to work to keep it that way.”

  “Do I need a housekeeper or groundskeeper?”

  “Jeez, Pete, I don’t know. I think that’s one of those if-you-don’t-want-to-do-it, get-someone-else-to-do-it things. I have to pay attention to money. You don’t.”

  “You make me sound like Moneybags himself,” Pete said tartly.

  “Well, aren’t you?” Annie’s voice sounded just as tart.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No. I merely made a statement. Let’s dangle our feet in the water. I used to wade in the creek in our town when I was a kid. We caught tadpoles by the dozen.

  “You know, Pete,” Annie said, her feet in the water, “if you decide to buy this property, it will be, in a way, starting over. A temporary setback until Maddie gets back. Setback is probably the wrong word. I guess what I’m trying to say here, Pete, is these next months are going to be whatever you make of them. For you, this is a new start, because your options are limited right now. I’m babbling here. Did anything I say make sense?”

  “Of course. I get on with my life, you get on with yours, and Maddie does what she has to do. We’re just doing it in different locations.”

  Annie laughed. “I knew you’d get it.” It was fully dark now. “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?” Annie said. “I don’t think I ever saw stars this bright, and it’s almost a full moon. Have you ever wished on a star, Pete?”

  “When I was a kid. Barney and I made a wish every evening. I wished for everything under the sun back then. Now, if I wanted to, I could buy each and every one of those wishes that dealt with material things. I used to hurt so bad, Annie. I cried more than six girls. Every goddamn day, after my parents died. I don’t think I stopped until I was seventeen. I haven’t cried since. Men aren’t supposed to cry. Men aren’t supposed to show weakness.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Annie snorted. “God wouldn’t have given you tears if he didn’t mean for you to use them. That’s why He gave emotions to both men and women. He didn’t say anything about holding tears and emotions in reserve. For what?”

  Pete guffawed. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he said, slapping her on the back. “You always make so damn much sense. I feel better already.”

  “I’m glad, Pete,” Annie said, pulling on her socks. “Let’s walk around the property one last time. Don’t you love the sound of the crickets?”

  “Is that what that sound is?” Pete said, tilting his head to the left to hear better.

  “Yep, and they’re all going to be yours. They’re making love. They rub their legs together, that’s what makes the sound.”

  “Jesus, you know everything,” Pete said in awe.

  “I wish.”

  It was all so perfect, this wonderful outing. Pete was trying hard to be companionable, trying so hard to make things right between them, trying to restore their old friendship, which at best was fragile.

  Pete reached for her hand. They walked together, swinging their hands like two young children as they made their way back to the house.

  “What do you think about me getting a boat?”

  “Don’t expect me to go out in open water with you. I can barely swim.”

  Pete grinned. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of us picnicking while tied up at the dock. I don’t know starboard from aft. Front and back.”

  Us. He’d said us. He’d said something else, but whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Annie dropped his hand and ran, her sneakers slapping at the dewy grass until she was on the front walkway lined with bright yellow chrysanthemums. She was breathless when she dropped to the brick steps under the small overhang.

  “Who lived here before, do you know?”

  “The realtor said it was a middle-aged couple who were getting a divorce. The wife wants her share, so it has to be sold. Can’t say I blame her. What’s your feeling on prenuptial agreements, Annie?”

  “Depends on who’s doing the prenupting. In a way, it’s an insult. The flip side of that is, why should one side have to share property and wealth that was earned prior to the marriage? My personal opinion is, it’s a lousy way to start off a marriage. Getting a divorce is too damn easy. In our parents’ day you stayed married and you worked at your problems. Couples today are too busy, so they part, squabble, we as attorneys make money, and they end up never speaking to one another. What’s your feeling?” she asked cautiously.

  “Pretty much the same as yours. We do think alike on so many things. Sometimes I find it scary.”

  She didn’t want to ask, wished she could bite her tongue so the words wouldn’t come out, but they did. “Did you and Maddie have one, or were you thinking about it?”

  “We talked about it. Maddie was the one who brought it up, but the truth is, I was thinking about it, but not clearly. I’m sure I wouldn’t have gone ahead with it. Most of my money is locked up pretty tight. Trusts and all that. What bothers me the most is, you’re talking about getting married, swearing to love one another into eternity, and then you have to be practical and think about what-if. What-ifs are a bitch. The kids have to be protected, if there are kids, that is. Maddie wasn’t keen on the idea of having children.”

  “You never told me that,” Annie said, her eyes wide. “I don’t mean you had to tell me. But why not?” she finished lamely.

  “Maddie is a career woman. Her own childhood wasn’t all that happy. She wants . . . wanted guarantees, and no one can give you that. We agreed to think a
bout it and talk about it down the road.”

  “But the store . . . it doesn’t make sense.”

  “If you think about it, it does. Everything in the store is the best, top-of-the-line, one-of-a-kind. Outrageously expensive. Priced out of most people’s reach. Things she only dreamed of having. In a cockeyed way, it makes sense. She knew it would work, and she was right. You’re running the store, do you see a time in the future where a family might come into being? We talked about opening a chain of stores. She was so excited.”

  “I think you’re wrong, Pete. I’m sure Maddie would want to have children as soon as the business started paying for itself. If she didn’t have a happy family life, she’d want one when she married. We all want to leave footprints behind. I know I do. You said the same thing to me many times. Flesh of my flesh, that kind of thing. You’re thinking too much. We agreed not to talk about Maddie today, and it seems that’s all we’re doing. You’re going to eat yourself alive if you don’t reconcile all of this. For now. Just for now, Pete.”

  “It’s not easy, Annie. I had my whole life planned out, and now this. Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this was . . . is the last thing that would have entered my mind.”

  “Pete, can I ask you a question? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer it, but I think it’s something you yourself need to give voice to.”

  “Shoot.”

  “If the people who run the program Maddie is in came to you and asked you if you wanted to join her, for however long it takes, would you go? Would you give up your life?”

  “Jesus, Annie, don’t you think I’ve been asking myself that for weeks now? The answer is, I don’t know. That’s what’s bothering me. And you’re absolutely right, it will eat me alive until I resolve it in my mind.”

  “One day at a time, old friend,” Annie said, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go find a motel or hotel and call it a day. What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

  “See the realtor, give a deposit, sign the contract, ride around the area, check the boat places if they’re open on Sundays, eat, we could probably go swimming in that lake if we wanted to, eat some more, and then either head back to the city or stay through Monday. We can wing it.”

  “I’m open to everything except the swimming part. I didn’t bring a suit, and I can barely dog paddle. I can watch you, though. Today was nice, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes it was. Thanks for coming with me, Annie.”

  “Hey, I had a nice time. You have no idea how lucky you are, Pete. I’m going to remind you every chance I get.”

  “Pushy broad,” Pete said fondly.

  Annie smiled. She was still smiling when Pete kissed her cheek as she fit her key into the lock of her motel room. “Sleep well,” she said.

  “You too.”

  “I’m going to be decorating your house in my dreams,” Annie gurgled. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to tell you, over breakfast, what the color will be. Does Maddie have any favorite colors?”

  Pete gaped at her. He should know the answer to that question. He thought about her apartment. There wasn’t much in the way of color. Now that he thought about it, everything was more or less neutral, except the kitchen with its red accents. The Red Skelton clown picture was the only bright tone in the whole apartment. “She likes yellow sheets. And yellow blankets. There’s red in the kitchen.”

  “Okay, that’s a start. You’re a green and blue person, or has that changed?” Annie said seriously.

  “I like red too.” He felt stupid, out of his depth with the pitying look on Annie’s face, which she couldn’t hide.

  “I like red myself. Red is a good accent color. We can talk about this some other time. ’Night, Pete.”

  “Good night, Annie,” Pete mumbled.

  In his room as he prepared for bed, Pete thought about Annie’s apartment back in Boston. It was in an old building on the second floor and very large. Two bedrooms, a large living room, with an L-shaped dining room with a big, sunny kitchen loaded with green plants in bright yellow pots. The kitchen table was oak and had huge claw feet. And it had to weigh at least three hundred pounds. How she’d ever gotten it up the steps, he’d never known. He should ask. The chairs weren’t an exact match, but they did go well with the table. They had comfortable green-and-white checkered cushions on the seats. He remembered a bright red teakettle on the stove. The salt and pepper shakers were red and had handles. They matched the teakettle. Strange that he should remember that. Maddie didn’t have a teakettle, and she had cardboard salt and pepper shakers from the supermarket.

  Annie’s refrigerator was always loaded with food, good food. Leftovers and cheeses, lots of fruit, and she always had munchies and beer and soda pop. She even had a spice rack any gourmet cook would envy.

  Once when he was in Boston he’d stopped to see Annie and had taken her out to dinner. They’d returned to her apartment and at midnight decided to make cookies to pacify his sweet tooth. She had every condiment, every flavoring, every nut, every kind of sugar needed. At one-thirty when the cookies were done, all three dozen of them, they’d sat on the living room floor devouring them. Then they’d curled up with gaily colored pillows from the sofa and slept next to one another. It was one of his nicest memories.

  Pete slid between the cool sheets, drew up the spread. He felt alone, bruised and wounded. He thanked God for Annie. If she hadn’t agreed to come with him today, he’d probably be outside baying at the moon.

  He needed the nourishment of a good sound sleep, needed to wake full of piss and vinegar, needed something to propel him through the coming months.

  What if, what if, what if ...

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Pete looked around. “Looks like someone is moving.” He grinned. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking care of all this?”

  “Pete, the moving company will be here by nine o’clock on Sunday morning,” Annie said. “I’ll count the boxes, they’ll sign the manifest, and I’ll sign it. Your belongings will be delivered to the lake house by noon tomorrow. How did you get the owners to agree to let you store your things before the closing?”

  “The deal is going through, they had no problem with it. You also have the go-ahead to proceed with your decorating plans. The key is under the mat. I have a written consent form from the owners. I made it all a condition of the sale.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Pete. Promise to call often. I really am going to worry about you driving out West. I wish you had a dog or something.”

  “Look at me, I’m all grown up. I’m looking forward to driving the Rover over country roads. I might even do a little four-wheeling if the occasion arises. This is going to be good for me, Annie.”

  “I know that, but I’m still going to worry.”

  “I left my itinerary in the kitchen. I don’t want you worrying about me, Annie. You have the number for the super, all the numbers I left for you in case anything goes wrong.”

  “Look at me, Pete Sorenson. I’m a big girl. Did you pack your warm clothes? Even though it’s mild for the first of October, it’s going to be cold where you’re going.”

  “I can’t believe it’s October already,” Pete muttered. “Has your Halloween merchandise come in yet?”

  “It’s due today, as a matter of fact.”

  “I like your theme idea a lot. With Halloween a few weeks away, I can see that you’re going to be busy. I know a place in Jersey that has the biggest pumpkins, the best scarecrows, the best of everything for Halloween. When I was a kid, my mom and dad made a big production of taking me there to pick out the pumpkins and the outfit for the scarecrow. I think they enjoyed it more than I did. How about if I give you directions and you check it out over the weekend? Oh, I almost forgot, they have cider that is to die for.” Pete scribbled, drawing a crude map for Annie’s benefit.

  “I’ll do it this weekend. The best part is, we can write it all off.”

  “Atta girl, Annie, now you’re thinking like a businesswoman. Okay, g
uess it’s time for me to hit the road. I know I’m leaving everything in good hands.”

  Pete drew Annie to him, hugged her tightly and then kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I owe you so much, Annie. I know I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate you. I do. Someday I hope there’s something I can do for you that will make things even for us.”

  “This isn’t a contest, Pete,” Annie murmured.

  “Annie . . . if ...”

  “I’ll call you immediately if Maddie calls. Regardless of the time of day. Now get going. Make lots of money, because it’s going to take buckets to decorate that house, and remember you want to buy a boat.”

  “Scratch the cabin cruiser on the Sound. I’m not ready for that yet. But I’ll get a big sailboat for the lake. You can sleep on it too.”

  “Go already!” Annie shouted.

  “I’m gone. I’ll call every other day.”

  Annie walked with Pete to the elevator. A lump the size of a walnut seemed to be stuck in her throat. Just as the door was about to close, Pete stuck his tongue out at her and wiggled his ears. She laughed as she made her way back to the apartment.

  Inside the apartment she stared at the packed boxes. Pete’s things. The colorful surfboard was leaning against the wall. Maybe she shouldn’t send it with the movers, maybe she should take it up herself the next time she went to Darien. The surfboard was too important to Pete to leave it in the hands of an unknown person. She carried it back to her room. Pete’s room.

  Would she really be able to move her things into this room? Would she really be able to sleep in the same bed Pete made love to Maddie in? No, a thousand times no. She carried the surfboard to the guest room and leaned it up against the wall. She closed the door to Pete’s room. It would always be Pete’s room, Pete and Maddie’s room. Nothing would ever change that.

  Annie ate a sketchy breakfast, her thoughts far away. She knew in her heart she should run as far and as fast as she could. No matter how thoughtful she was, no matter what she did for Pete, no matter what she felt, Pete belonged to Maddie. All she was doing was postponing the moment when she would have to cut him out of her life. Later it was going to hurt more. She knew she was making Pete’s life easier, taking responsibility for so many things. But at what cost to herself? She was thirty-four years old, and it was time to make a life for herself. A life that didn’t include Pete Sorenson. She’d been doing that until Pete asked her to drop everything and help him. She’d even diddled with the idea of moving to California to put as much space between them as possible, and that way she could gradually wean herself away from the soul-wrenching phone calls, occasional visits that had become a ritual with her and Pete. Now she was more mired in his life than before. Who but a fool would offer to decorate a house another woman was going to share with the man she loved? Who but a fool would take over and run the other woman’s business and put her own life on hold? Who but a fool would gladly give up her life back in Boston to move into a sublet of the man she loved, who in turn loved someone else?