You Belong to Me

by You Belong to Me (NCP) (lit)

  Max's impatience was replaced by compassionate tenderness. "Why did you have to?"

  There seemed no point in evading the issue. "I sold the ring to pay for my abortion."

  Max closed his eyes as his jaw clenched. "Oh my God!"

  It seemed important to make him understand. "I had to have the money and I had to have it immediately. Mamma was so sick. Shannon needed so many things. There was no spare cash for anything. I had no one to turn to." Once again she was in the emotional throes of a traumatic nightmare. "I did the only thing I could do. I sold my wedding ring even though it broke my heart to part with it."

  Max's voice was none too steady. "You kept your wedding ring for five years after we divorced? Then you parted with it, not because you wanted to but because you had to?" He blinked his eyes. "Was it that important to you?"

  Julie was on the brink of admitting the magnitude of her loss when reason caught up to sentiment. It would not be wise to confess how deeply that forfeiture had affected her. "It didn't seem right to sell a wedding ring to pay for an abortion."

  Max refused to be deterred. "That's not what I asked. Why did you keep the ring in the first place?"

  Why had she clung so tenaciously to a little band of gold? Slowly and with a great deal of pain, Julie realized a sad truth. So long as she held onto that ring she could clutch to her breast the hope that someday she would recapture the rapture of youth and the magic of first love. "I was very young, very foolish and very sentimental." An unheeded tear rolled down her cheek. "We're breaking our rules again talking about the past."

  "And we're upsetting you again." Max offered her another napkin. "I'll get another ring."

  Julie didn't want another ring. Did she dare tell him that? "You don't have to go to all that trouble. I can wear that one."

  Max put his hand to his pocket. "You wouldn't mind?"

  "Not at all."

  He slid the envelope across the table. "I hope you aren't too upset by this."

  Julie took the ring from the envelope and slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand. Then she held her arm up for Max to see. "Look. It's a perfect fit." It couldn't be the same ring but there was no harm in pretending. "Thank you, Max."

  Max glanced at the Rolex on his arm. "We should be going" He slid from his seat and stood waiting for Julie to do the same. When she was on her feet, he put his arm around her waist. Together they exited the restaurant and walked across the parking lot toward Max's car.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A pale morning sun beamed across the patio and spilled into the living room. Julie laid her book aside and stared out the window. How imperceptible was the passing of time. It seemed only yesterday that she had arrived at Half Moon when in reality a month and a half had passed. As the days and weeks came and went by she found a new tranquility by letting go of circumstances and incidents that she could neither alter nor change and focusing her thoughts and energies on the miracle that was taking place inside her body.

  The child inside her womb stirred--her son--Max's son. Julie stopped her thoughts before they could run to fancies. Tranquility was one thing, dreaming impossible dreams was quite another. Just because she and Max had been able to co-exist under the same roof for six weeks without arguments and dissension didn't mean they had any kind of future together. To entertain such ideas was inviting heartbreak. Her future was in Summerville with Royce and her business. Max's future lay in a different direction. Would that future be with Andrea? Julie couldn't help but wonder. So far as she knew Max had been true to his word. He hadn't contacted Andrea but Mrs. O'Brien had delivered messages to Max from Andrea several times in Julie's presence. Maybe she had reported more out of Julie's earshot.

  And Julie had refrained from calling Royce even though he continued to ring her and inquire about how her pregnancy was progressing. But as the days and weeks rolled by those calls became fewer and further between.

  Julie reigned in her wandering thoughts. Whatever the future might bring she couldn't change it by worrying about what was or was not to be. Instead she decided to think about the present. Lupe would be calling soon, just as she had done each Wednesday morning for the past six weeks.

  The first time Lupe came to call Julie was surprised but not suspicious. The younger woman stayed for an hour or so, talking about the weather and telling Julie about her children. Little Maria, who was a first grader, was already reciting her ABC's. Nine-year-old Joe had just made his school's soccer team. She then moved on to discuss current events and community activities. The visit had been pleasant and relaxing.

  When Lupe appeared the next Wednesday at almost the same time Julie assumed it was coincidence. When she showed up the third Wednesday misgiving mingled with Julie's pleasure at seeing someone she had grown to like very much. After what she hoped was a decent interval of exchanging pleasantries, Julie asked as tactfully as possible. "Is Max the instigator of these weekly visits?"

  With surprising candor Lupe replied, "He asked me to make the first visit."

  Julie was just as candid. "You don't have to keep coming, you know."

  "I know." Lupe met Julie's troubled gaze. "You obviously don't know me very well. I would come to visit once if Max asked me to but I wouldn't keep coming back if I didn't enjoy being here."

  Well, that was plain enough, so plain in fact, that Julie found herself struggling to find an acceptable reply. "I enjoy your coming to call too but I wouldn't want you to..." Her voice trailed away and then rallied. "Maybe you have more important things to do."

  Lupe pushed her long mane of black hair back with her hand. "Like what?"

  Julie had to smile. "I don't know. What do you do for entertainment in this god-forsaken place?"

  "God-forsaken is the right word." Lupe rolled her expressive eyes. "You and Mrs. O'Brien are the only other females within ten square miles. Her face creased in a sweet smile. "Before you came I had no one to talk to except Jose and Mrs. O'Brien. Does that answer your question?"

  "Yes, and I'm glad you're here." The uncomfortable moment passed and Julie found herself relaxing once again.

  Julie grew to look forward to Lupe's weekly visits. Glancing at her watch, she decided she had time to read a few more pages in her novel before Lupe arrived. She opened her book and settled back in her chair.

  She was interrupted by Mrs. O'Brien standing in the doorway. "Mrs. Anderson?"

  Julie closed her book. "Yes?"

  "If you have a few moments we should talk."

  Julie's eyebrows lifted in surprise. In the time that she had been at Half Moon, Mrs. O'Brien had not consulted her about a single household matter and she had carefully avoided any personal contact. Her questions and concerns were always directed toward Max.

  This had led Julie to assume that was the way Max wanted it to be. With an uneasy feeling of reluctance she nodded her assent. "Would you like to sit down?"

  Mrs. O'Brien eased into a chair. "It's time to make plans."

  Julie hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about. She contemplated saying so, and then reconsidered. She suspected that Mrs. O'Brien's already thought of her as distant and cold. Why do something that might reinforce that opinion? "I suppose it is." She folded her hands and waited.

  "All I need to know is how many people to plan for."

  "People?" This conversation was going nowhere fast. "What people?"

  "The people who are coming for dinner, of course," Mrs. O'Brien answered and then asked, "Mr. Max hasn't mentioned this to you?"

  Julie was reluctant to admit that he hadn't. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

  "I'm talking about how many people to expect. There are the five cowboys who work full time at Half-Moon." Mrs. O'Brien used her fingers to enumerate. "And Slim will probably want to bring Miss Emma. Her, I don't mind but I do hope Hank won't insist on inviting that bar maid from Perkie's Place again."

  Julie held up one hand. "Slow down. You're losing me." She wasn't a permanent resident her
e. For her own peace of mind she couldn't afford to become too involved in the events and happenings at Half Moon. "Are you talking about guests for some special occasion?"

  "I'm talking about Thanksgiving Day." Mrs. O'Brien seemed surprised that Julie would even have to ask. "Thanksgiving dinner for the extended ranch family is a tradition of long standing at Half Moon." Once again Mrs. O'Brien began to count on her fingers. "Then there's Jose and Lupe and their two children, and me and my daughter and her husband and the baby." Her hands dropped to her lap. "I suppose your daughter will be here too with her husband. Will there be anyone else?"

  Julie wasn't about to tell Mrs. O'Brien that she hadn't talked to her daughter in over five weeks. Mrs. O'Brien spoke daily to her daughter on the telephone and spent each weekend at her home. Nor did she intend to subject herself to the ordeal of entertaining half of Atascosa County on Thanksgiving Day. Julie searched for and couldn't find a way to break that news to Mrs. O'Brien. Finally she asked, "Have you talked this over with Mr. Anderson?"

  "What does Mr. Max know about fixing meals and feeding folks?"

  "Very little," Julie conceded.

  Mrs. O'Brien nodded. "Exactly, so it's up to me." Grudgingly, she added, "And you, of course."

  Julie hadn't felt this uncertain in a long time. "I'm not sure I'm up to entertaining."

  "Glory be, Mrs. Anderson, I don't expect you to do any of the actual work. Lupe and I will take care of that." Surprise and a flash of temper sparked in Mrs. O'Brien's eyes. "Nobody expects you to entertain them. They want to entertain you. Jose will bring his accordion. Slim will have his guitar and Hank plays a mean fiddle. Joe always has his harmonica in his shirt pocket and Pete can sing almost as good as George Strait. Poor old Fred can't play a single instrument and he couldn't tote a tune in a basket, but he's a whiz at story telling." Mrs. O'Brien folded her arms across her amble bosom as if that settled the matter. "Will your daughter be here with her husband?"

  A knock on the front door saved Julie from having to admit that she had no idea what her daughter had planned for Thanksgiving.

  Mrs. O'Brien scrambled to her feet. "That will be Lupe. Now we can get down to business." She pulled the door open. "It's time you were showing up. Thanksgiving is barely three weeks away."

  Lupe too seemed to automatically assume that the dinner was a foregone conclusion. "My mother and father called last night. They're driving up from the valley the Wednesday before Thanksgiving." She perched on the end of the couch and smiled at Julie. "Don't you just love holidays?"

  Usually she did. Julie wasn't sure that was going to hold true in this case. "I suppose so."

  Mrs. O'Brien settled back in her chair. "Lupe will make the pies, won't you, Lupe?"

  Turning to Julie, she confided, "Lupe makes the best pies in the state of Texas."

  Lupe scolded, "Really, Mrs. O'Brien," but she didn't dispute the housekeeper's words. "Don't I always make the pies? And you, of course, will make your famous cornbread stuffing."

  As the two other women proceeded with their plans, Julie found herself being caught up in the spirit of the moment. Suddenly she was recalling past holidays--happy times spent with Shannon and Max. Maybe she should call her daughter and invite her here for the holiday. Then she remembered that this wasn't her home. She'd have to speak to Max first. "I wish I could help. But at this point all I can offer is moral support."

  Mrs. O'Brien actually smiled. "That's enough for now but next year we expect you to pitch right in."

  Next year. Those words had a chilling effect. Julie wouldn't be here next year. Suddenly the future that she'd refused to acknowledge was staring her in the face. She ran trembling fingers through the sides of her hair, lowered her head and fought tears.

  Instantly, Lupe was by her side. "Are you all right, Julie?"

  A chill shook through Julie. "I'll be fine."

  "You don't look fine." Mrs. O'Brien jumped to her feet. "You look like someone in pain. Would you like an aspirin?"

  "No. Thank you." Julie was in pain but it was the kind of pain no amount of medication could relieve.

  Lupe laced her fingers around Julie's wrist and frowned. "Your pulse is racing. I think you should lie down."

  Julie leaned her head on the back of her chair. "Let me rest for a second."

  Mrs. O'Brien's hurried toward the kitchen. "You stay with Mrs. Anderson. I'll get in touch with Mr. Max."

  Lupe called to the housekeeper's retreating backside, "Do you know where he is?"

  Mrs. O'Brien stopped. "He never leaves these days without telling me where he's going and how to get in touch with him."

  Julie called out, "Please don't disturb Max."

  Mrs. O'Brien replied, "I have my instructions. Lie down and be still."

  Despite her annoyance, Julie smiled. "That is one pushy old woman."

  "I know." Lupe was smiling too. "But her intentions are the best."

  Julie doubted that was true where she was concerned. She couldn't shake the feeling that Mrs. O'Brien didn't like her. "She's certainly devoted to Max."

  "That she is." Lupe helped Julie to a reclining position on the couch and then put a pillow under her head. "Jose thinks highly of him too. You're lucky to have a man like Max, Julie."

  That charismatic charm Max could weave so well was working its magic. He had managed to win the approval of every female on Half Moon. Every female, that is except Julie. Perhaps she knew him too well.

  When Max arrived home some thirty minutes later, Julie was reclining on the couch. He burst through the door. A rush of cool air blew in with him. "Julie? Are you ill? Mrs. O'Brien said you had some sort of attack."

  That pretty well summed it up. Julie was suffering from an attack of reality. Her protruding stomach made it difficult for her to shift to a sitting position. "I felt faint for a moment. I'm all right now."

  Before she could maneuver the unwieldy bulge and sit up, Max was at her side pushing her back down on the couch. "Don't try to get up; should I call Doctor Weatherby?"

  "It's not necessary; "I'm feeling much better now."

  Max moved Julie's legs back and sat down. Taking her hand he brushed his lips across her fingertips. "You look pale, sweetheart. Try to relax." His tone was affectionate and his words reassuring.

  Julie stiffened and tried to reclaim her hand. Max held on. He was carrying this little charade of being the perfect husband a little too far. She wanted to tell him as much. The presence of the other two women stopped her. "I'm not ill, just pregnant." Even in her own ears her voice sounded testy and irritable.

  Max had the audacity to reach out and caress her stomach. "I know. I keep wondering how we got so lucky after all these years."

  His touch was intimate and warm. It brought a flutter to Julie's pulse and a touch of color to her cheeks. She closed her eyes and for the briefest moment let herself pretend that Max was her devoted and loving husband and the child she carried was a product of that love and devotion. Then reality kicked in with a jolt. Once again a tremor shook through her body. She couldn't go on with this pretense. It was tearing her apart.

  "Get a blanket." Max barked to Mrs. O'Brien as he placed his hand on Julie's forehead.

  Mrs. O'Brien scurried to obey and returned is a matter of minutes with a fleecy blanket that Max put over Julie's body and tucked around her neck. "Take it easy sweetheart. You know what the doctor said about stress."

  Mrs. O'Brien hurried toward the kitchen. "You'll stay for lunch won't you Lupe?"

  "I can't. I have to meet the school bus and collect my children." After the necessary amenities, Lupe departed, leaving Max and Julie alone and staring at each other in uncomfortable silence.

  Finally, Max asked, "Are you going to tell me what you're upset about?"

  She couldn't explain to Max what she didn't fully understand herself. "What makes you think I'm upset?"

  Max ran his fingers through the sides of his hair. "For six weeks every thing goes along well and then out of the blue I get a ph
one call saying that you're ill. Are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to call Mrs. O'Brien in and ask her?"

  Julie managed to rise to a sitting position. "I'm being overly sensitive."

  Max tensed as his eyes narrowed. "Was it something Mrs. O'Brien said?"

  "No." As much as Julie resented Mrs. O'Brien's high-handed behavior she couldn't let the woman take blame for something that wasn't her fault. "We were discussing Thanksgiving dinner."

  "You were upset about Thanksgiving dinner?"

  "It's not just the dinner." Once again Julie found herself searching for words to express feelings were both elusive and complex. "Mrs. O'Brien assumes that I'll always be here at Half Moon. That makes me uncomfortable."

  Max's lips compressed. "You're anticipating."

  Julie smiled as she remembered that 'anticipating' had been her mother's quaint word to define pregnancy. She laid her hand on her rounded stomach. "So I am."

  Max's mouth relaxed in a smile. "Would you rather we canceled the dinner?"

  Who was Julie to object about the order of things at Half Moon? "It's not my decision to make." When Max didn't answer, she asked, "Can you understand that?"

  "I had hoped that with time, you'd feel more at ease here." He sounded hurt and angry. "If you don't want the dinner, say so. I'll call the whole thing off."

  Julie didn't want that on her conscience. "You can't do that. Thanksgiving dinner at Half Moon is a tradition."

  "Only if you're okay with it."

  She sensed his withdrawal when she said, "Speaking of Thanksgiving, what about Shannon?"

  "Did Shannon call?

  "No." Julie had the distinct feeling that she wouldn't until her mother relented and called first. "Mrs. O'Brien thinks we've invited our daughter here for Thanksgiving."

  "You don't want Shannon here? Is that what's upsetting you?"

  "Of course I want Shannon here, it's just that..." Julie's voice died away then revived, "I don't know if she will come."

  "There's one way to find out." Max pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket. "We can ask and see."