He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and managed to remember why he had knocked on MacGregor’s door. “What the hell are you doing, Jenny? You and Mac?”
Of course. Holly had told him about my engagement.
“Seriously, Jenny?”
Seriously? What the hell did he mean by seriously? That MacGregor and I had been student and professor twenty years ago? That we’d been friends ever since? Or was it his kindness that he objected to? His generous, caring nature? Or perhaps that he was fit, gorgeous, and independently wealthy? Or that he loved me unconditionally? Or was he implying that I was the one who was lacking, that I was not good enough for MacGregor?
“What exactly are you saying, Joe?”
He spoke cautiously. He’d known me long enough to have a clue when outrage was building inside of me. “I’m just saying, you and Mac? Getting married?” He cleared his throat, obviously rethinking the tack he was taking. “I mean, so soon after—after, you know.”
I didn’t know if it was because of the tense week I’d had with my daughter or the stress of dealing with a kidnapped baby and an attempted murder, and four drowning puppies, but I wasn’t up to this. I feared a confrontation with my ex-husband might just push me over the edge. Not a good place to be, especially not safe for the man staring across the threshold at me.
“Goodbye, Joe,” I said softly and started to close the door.
But, fool that he often was, he stepped in the way. “Please, Jenny. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Yes, for everything.” He reached out to take my hand but I pulled it out of his grip and stepped back. “Just listen, Jenny, please?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I screwed up. I know I did. What I did is unforgivable, but I’m asking for your forgiveness anyway.” He stared at me with those blue eyes that had at one time melted my heart. But now, because of him, I had difficulty trusting any man with blue eyes. He reached for my hand again, but I held tightly to the open door.
“Will you forgive me, Jenny?”
Being a spiritual counselor and knowing what I did about forgiveness, I decided it would be in my best interest to answer in the affirmative. “I forgive you, Joe.” I heard the lack of enthusiasm loud and clear, as I was certain, he had.
“I want you back, Jenny. I love you. Please. Will you give me another chance?”
I started to close the door again, but Joe had a big foot. I heard a soft growl somewhere behind me and felt comfort in the knowledge that Rocky was there. And if Rocky was there, so was Josh.
“No, Joe. I won’t give you another chance. As you already know, I’m engaged to be married.”
“Surely you’re smart enough to realize that this is only a rebound relationship, Jenny.”
It wasn’t difficult to find something patronizing and condescending in that sentence . . and in his tone of voice. Or maybe it came from past experiences from my marriage when I hadn’t consciously realized how little my husband had respected me.
“You turned to Mac because he’s comfortable. You feel safe with him. I understand. It’s natural that you would seek comfort from someone you trust, but Jenny—”
“Joe. I’m marrying MacGregor.”
He finally heard me. And maybe even saw me. “Do you love him?”
“Yes. I love him.”
Suddenly he went from threatening man to wounded boy. “More than you loved me?”
“Joe—” He didn’t really want to hear the answer to that question. Well, maybe some warped masochistic part of him did. Regardless, I would not answer it.
As if sensing that I needed support, comfort, a distraction, something, anything, Rocky came over and stood beside me and pressed his oversized body against my leg.
“When did you get him?”
“A couple months ago.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rocky.”
“As in Rocky Balboa?”
“Raccoon—Beatles song?”
“Of course. You always wanted a dog.”
“Yes.”
Something about Rocky’s presence, as if he symbolized our differences and the separation between us, seemed to help Joe grasp just how far I had moved on with my life. His nod was one of reconciliation.
He swallowed hard and his voice was hoarse when he spoke. “It’s difficult thinking of you with someone else.”
And that was what had prompted this visit. Jealousy, possessiveness, the knowledge that I was with another man.
“It’s harder than I could have imagined.”
“Even though you were the one who left me?”
He looked up, startled, almost hurt by that accusation. Ironic, I thought.
“I didn’t leave you, Jenny. You’re the one who left and moved to your island and filed for divorce.”
“No, Joe, you left me. The moment you had an affair and fell in love with another woman.” I released a deep breath of toxic air.
I had been living with betrayal all week. First learning that Greg Rallings had cheated on his wife and had lost her. They had come to terms with it, far better than most people in their situation could have, but still it was there. Although I had not been able to see it, there had to be some residue left over, some deep pain and resentment. Ben Blaine had assumed that as well which was why he had concluded at one point that Greg had kidnapped Shelby and Carter’s baby. But he didn’t know that Ally wasn’t Carter’s and that she was Greg’s. Another betrayal? I shivered. Betrayal seemed to be contagious, at least in my observations. But the worst one of all had happened the day before. Brother attempting to kill brother. That would be the hardest one to get past.
Joe was watching me closely as if waiting for me to rescue him. I didn’t really expect him to respond to my accusation, but nor would I rescue him. Had I done that so many times in the past that he expected it, anticipated it even? Did he assume that despite what had happened over the past several months, including a divorce, that I would step in and save him from himself? I had moved on, created a new life for myself, to say nothing of there being a new man in my life.
He must have heard my thoughts, or felt the vibration of them. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I never meant to hurt you. You’ve no idea how sorry I am. It’s just—seeing you with—knowing you’re with— This is really hard for me. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Why did you?”
“When Holly told me about you and Mac being engaged—” His focus migrated from my face to his feet. Why were feet so comforting? I wondered. His voice softened, despite his words. “I went crazy. I couldn’t handle it. I can’t stand knowing you’ve moved on like this—” He gestured with his hand toward MacGregor’s home that was now mine as well. “I hate thinking of you with someone else. It’s tearing me up inside.” There were tears in his eyes and I realized that in his way maybe he did still love me.
My mind flashed to Scott’s party. And to George Green when he saw his ex-wife Marsha with another man. It was interesting how insidious and relentless jealousy and possessiveness could be, even when someone gave up the right to it by betraying the person of whom they were possessive.
This time I met his eyes as I eased the door toward him.
“I envy you, Jenny. I envy your confidence, your awareness of who you are and what you want. And your ability to move on.”
“Goodbye, Joe.”
He nodded and stepped back, turned, and walked down the stairs. I closed the door firmly behind him and rested my head against it for a moment, my hand reaching down to find comfort in my dog’s soothing fur.
When I turned around I saw Josh standing in the hallway. “Are you okay, Jenny?”
I nodded. “Confrontations are never fun.”
“Especially with ex-husbands? I assume that was Joe?”
I nodded and went to sit down in the closest chair. Josh sat on the arm of the couch facing me. “He’s been out there for a while.”
“Joe?”
“Yeah, I saw him sitting in his car when
I let Rocky out front around six-thirty.”
I shivered, realizing that it was not a coincidence that he had knocked on the door after MacGregor had left for his run. He must have been waiting for him to leave or for me to walk outside by myself. I shivered again.
“Tea?” Josh asked.
I smiled. He knew that although I loved my coffee first thing in the morning, tea had healing powers. “Tea would be perfect.” While he went to put the kettle on, I leaned forward and nuzzled my face in Rocky’s fur. Faithful dog that he was, he hadn’t left my side. The perfect antidote for betrayal.
Chapter 16
It should not have been so difficult seeing Joe. Yes, it had been a while. And yes, we were near-strangers now after having been together for twenty years. Disorienting, I understood. Alienating, definitely. But the pain surprised me. Old wounds that I thought had healed? There always seemed to be residue that surfaced when the opportunity provided itself.
The strings between two people are long and enduring, despite their having gone their separate ways. When I hear “Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue” I still see Joe scooping Holly into his arms and twirling her around the room. And when I catch the scent of musk, I picture him at the bathroom mirror, smacking aftershave on his face. And sometimes even, when my eyes are closed, and my son Matthew says something to me, I hear Joe’s voice. And when I look into my daughter Holly’s eyes, I see his.
Even if the separation was painful and the divorce final, all the strings are not severed. I wonder if they ever are. I wonder if there will ever be a time when I no longer think of him and the good times. I wonder if it will feel like a lifetime ago, a different life. I suppose when there are children, even grownup children, it makes it all the more difficult to reach that point.
MacGregor’s hand clamped my shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “Are you okay, McNair?”
I nodded and turned so I was looking into his warm brown eyes. How did he know? He had just come in from his run, yet he knew.
He answered my thoughts. “I saw Joe outside.”
“He came to say goodbye to Holly and to—”
“Try to talk you out of marrying me?”
I smiled. “As if that could happen.”
MacGregor squatted down beside me and took my hands in both of his. Knowing he had been replaced as official soother, Rocky wandered over to plunk down in front of the fireplace, his favorite spot whether or not there was a lit fire. MacGregor kissed the back of each of my hands.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Aye, well I should say, he talked to me . . . or at me.”
I cringed. “What did he say?”
“After his initial attack and claim that I had taken advantage of you when you were vulnerable?”
I laughed. MacGregor take advantage? An oxymoron if I’d ever heard one. “Go on.”
“I didn’t say anything. I just gave him that look I give my students when they are so far from grasping the truth that I think it would be wise for them to drop my physics class. Seemed to calm him down. Then he just said that I didn’t know how lucky I am.” He reached up and kissed me gently on the mouth. “And of course, I assured him that I know precisely how fortunate I am.” He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Sorry, a wee bit sweaty here.”
“And?”
“And I resisted telling him he was a bloody idiot for losing you.” He cocked his head to the side. “I figured he already knows that. What did he say to you?”
“Oh, he just tried to talk me into giving him another chance. And he thinks I’m with you on the rebound. And because you’re comfortable.”
“And you told him—?”
“I just gave him that look I give my kids when they’re so far from grasping the truth that they’d best go to their rooms and rethink things a while. A long while. And then I told him I love you. And I closed the door.”
MacGregor’s eyes sparkled and he kissed me again before standing up. “Glad to hear it. So, Charlie is busy making waffles. I’ll take a quick shower and we can go over.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you to the airport?”
I shook my head. I had seen the pile of work on his desk, the pile he had neglected for a week but could neglect no longer considering that his classes resumed in two days. “I’ll be fine. Josh is coming, remember? After we drop Holly at the airport, I’m taking him down to Olympia to see his grandfather.”
“Oh, aye.”
Josh appeared with my cup of green tea. “You’re sure it’s okay if we go today?” he asked. “We could go next week if you’re not up to it.”
“I’m up to it.” Did I suddenly look frail? I thought of Shelby Elliot sitting on the couch, her husband crouched beside her, her daughter massaging her injured ankle. I stood up just to prove that I was quite capable of standing on my own. “I’m great. Sad Holly is leaving of course, but she’ll be home in three weeks for the wedding and Christmas.” Three weeks? I had to put together a wedding in three weeks?
Josh and MacGregor exchanged looks. They’d seen my panic. Maybe I wasn’t quite so capable of standing on my own after all.
“What is it, McNair?”
“You’re both helping me plan the wedding, right?”
MacGregor’s face relaxed. “Aye, indeed we are, right, laddie?”
“Sure. Can I get credit for it? A wedding planning course? Maybe not. I’d probably fail it.” Josh laughed, then looked back at MacGregor to be certain nothing else was wrong. Trusting each other’s assessment of my state of mind, they nodded at each other. Thank goodness. The last thing I wanted was for them to treat me like a fragile porcelain doll. I glanced at the dusty blue ceramic vase I had made that MacGregor had bought at the gallery on the island. It was more than a vase I had thrown on my wheel. It said a lot about who I was. Sturdy, resilient, durable. Or at least, I liked to think so.
* * *
Josh waited for me in the car. Smart boy. He hugged Holly and let me walk her into the airport alone. No dropping her duffle bag several times between the car and the check-in counter this time. I stifled a laugh at the image of my sprite of a daughter, using her giant duffle bag to make a point.
After she had checked in and her hands were free, we walked arm and arm to Starbuck’s where I bought her a latte for the road. As we waited for her drink, she slipped her arms around my waist and rested her face against my chest, as comforting to her as Rocky’s furry head was to me. It was a familiar embrace, one we had shared for eighteen years. I closed my eyes and savored the moment. They seemed more precious now.
When she looked up at me, she asked, “Are you mad I told Dad?”
“What?” My mind had drifted far away from the morning encounter I’d had with her father.
“That Mac and you are getting married?”
“No, of course not. He’d find out at some point. It’s good you told him.”
She took me at my word. “Good. I kind of felt bad that he came over this morning. I know you don’t really want to see him.”
“It was fine,” I told her. And it was. It had to happen sooner or later. And now it was over.
She studied my eyes, nodded, then hugged me again. “Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“It’s not that I’m not happy for you. I’m glad you’re so happy. Really. I like Mac. Maureen says he’s a really great guy. She told me how he was there for her when her dad was missing and all.” She sighed as if still in battle with herself. “And I know that myself. I mean, I’ve known him forever. He’s kind of always been like an uncle to Matt and me, you know? And I can tell he loves you and stuff.” She groaned. “Kind of easy to tell that. And I like Josh. He’s okay, you know? In a little brother kind of way.”
“But?”
“But I guess—” Her sigh cut through me the way it did when she was eight years old and didn’t get a valentine from the boy she’d had a crush on since
the first day of school.
“What, honey?”
“I just keep closing my eyes and wishing things could be the way they were. I want things to be like they were when I was little. You, me, Dad, Matt on a Sunday morning. Dad hugging you while you’re cooking breakfast, Matt teasing me for messing up my eighteenth attempt at the perfect pirouette, me telling him he’s ugly and has a pimple even when he doesn’t.”
My heart warmed at the fond memories. At least the part with her and Matt.
Another deep sigh. Then, “I miss that. I miss us. I miss the us we used to be.”
I couldn’t fault her for that. I had moved on, but that didn’t mean she had or that she had to. I had been greatly relieved that she was grown up and off to another coast to dance and then attend college when it had happened. When I found out about my husband’s relationship with another woman, when I moved to the island cottage my Great Aunt Winnie had left me, when I started a new life. When the world as my daughter knew it had crumbled beneath her.
She was still a little girl after all. Most of us are, I realized. Even if we’re in grown-up bodies and do grown-up things. We still have that little child inside and we still have little child feelings.
“I’m sorry, Holly. I’m sorry things aren’t the way they were, and that you came home to such a dramatic change.”
She squeezed me again before retrieving her latte from the counter. “Thanks, Mom. I guess I just have to get used to it is all. It was kind of a shock.”
“I know. I didn’t handle it well.” Early waning would have been good, or at least a slow build up.
She shook her head. “Neither did I.” She grinned that impish mischievous grin that I knew and loved so well. “But I got a puppy out of the deal.” She kissed me on the cheek and said, “Take good care of Lucy for me.” With that she turned and headed for the security check-in, gulping down her latte before she’d have to throw it away. I watched her walk away with her dancer strut. She turned once more before she joined the line. “And send pictures. I want at least one picture a day. I don’t want to miss a moment of my puppy growing up.”
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