You Belong to Me

by You Belong to Me (NCP) (lit)

Julie's joy was tormented by a pang of apprehension. "It will be good to see her again." Her relationship with her daughter needed a little fence mending. Maybe Thanksgiving would give her an opportunity to begin that process. "Is Brett coming with her?"

  "Yes and..." Max moved around in the bed. "Shannon wants to bring Brett's grandparents with them."

  Remembering her last encounter with Mr. and Mrs. Morrison made Julie grimace. "Do you think they will come?"

  "I think they'll jump at the chance." Max's voice seemed to blend into the darkness. "Otherwise they'll be alone on Thanksgiving Day. I've spent enough holidays alone to know how lonely that can be."

  Unbidden, an old memory surfaced as Julie recalled the Thanksgiving and Christmas after her mother had died--How lonely she had been, how lost and how guilt-ridden. Her mother was gone and so was her baby; one decimated and destroyed by cancer, the other sucked into a hollow tube and flushed away like toxic waste. Her salvation then had been Shannon and Royce of course. He had just lost Jean to the same fatal malady that had taken Julie's mother. How they had leaned on each other during those dark, dismal days. Julie sat up and flicked the switch of the lamp that stood on a table beside her bed. "I have to call Royce."

  Max turned his back to her and pulled the sheet over his head. "For God's sake, Julie, this is your wedding night."

  She knew that all too well. "So?"

  The muscles in Max's shoulders rippled like coils of steel as he tossed the sheet aside. "We made an agreement, remember? You don't call Royce and I won't get in touch with Andrea."

  "I should tell him I'm married." She wondered what Royce would say. Somehow she didn't think he'd be too surprised. "I owe him that."

  Max sat on the side of the bed and with his back to her and ran his fingers through his hair. "Your allegiance is to me now."

  Julie lay back down and turned off the light. She had given her word. She could tell Royce about her marriage the next time he called. "That promise temporarily slipped my mind."

  Max lay back down and pushed his fist into his pillow. "Like so many other promises you've made?"

  His words sliced like a dull knife across her heart. Into the soft darkness she whispered, "I never broke a promise to you, Max, never!"

  "What about your promise to stay with me until death parted us? Or did that promise slip your mind too?" She could hear the bitterness in his voice. "You walked out on me, Julie--left me without even bothering to say goodbye and just when I needed you the most."

  Was this the invincible Max Anderson speaking? Julie had never thought of him as needing anyone, at least not in the way he was implying.

  Max shifted, causing the mattress to move with his weight. "I'm dredging up the past again. Forgive me."

  "Why didn't you ask me to come back?" Julie had always wondered but never before had she been bold enough to ask.

  "I didn't have the right."

  "Why not? You were my husband."

  "I couldn't give you the things you wanted. There were times I couldn't even give you the things you needed."

  All she had ever needed or wanted was his love. "Like what?"

  His words fell like stones into the heavy silence. "Like a house with a fence around the back yard."

  Julie forced herself to face a belated and bitter truth, she had expected too much of him. She wouldn't make that mistake again. "I was such a child." And she had given too little. How else could she explain his turning to another woman? "I failed you in so many ways."

  Max propped himself up on his elbow and stared down into her face. "We failed each other."

  Tears clogged Julie's throat. "We were both too young to...."

  Max laid his finger across her lips, stopping her flow of words. "That's always been your excuse. Deep in your heart you know that's not the reason our marriage failed."

  This was dangerous and uncharted territory that Julie had always avoided exploring. It had been easier to consign her failed marriage to the mistakes and shortcomings of youth. "Why do you think our marriage failed?" Once she had blamed Lucie Traywick. She knew now that Lucie had been a symptom, not a cause.

  Max laced his fingers behind his head. "We had all that fire and passion and sweet lustful love, but that's all we had."

  Her mind, like a mirror, caught that thought and held it to the light of reason. "And that wasn't enough."

  "It was scarcely a foundation." A sudden flash of light from the neon sign illuminated Max's face. He looked grim and remote. "Neither of us had the slightest clue as to what made the other tick."

  Julie wanted to protest. She couldn't. In many ways Max was still a stranger to her. They had never learned to communicate except on a very fundamental and sexual level. "So we kept making the same mistakes over and over again."

  In the darkness she could feel the irony of his smile. "We're still making them and we can no longer blame our stupidity on the folly of youth."

  "Then maybe we can chalk it up to immaturity." Julie suggested, her own smile testing the darkness. She sobered. "Even though it's too late now, I am truly sorry we couldn't make it work."

  Max's answer vibrated into the air with electrifying fervor. "Is it too late for us, Julie?"

  Julie had held onto the hope of reconciling with Max for too many years. Letting it go had left her empty and old. She dared not resurrect it again. "Yes, it is."

  "I think we can make a go of this marriage if we're both willing to try."

  The idea exploded inside Julie's brain leaving a wreckage of bewildered confusion. It was like hitting an emotional brick wall at break-neck speed, all forward thought processes ceased.

  "We could give it another shot, if you're interested in trying again." Max spoke with the off-handed candor of someone negotiating a business deal.

  An invisible hand closed around Julie's throat. Try as she might, she couldn't utter a sound.

  After another empty interval, Max prodded, "Are you?"

  As the dust from her mental upheaval began to settle, Julie realized that she had never wanted anything more. There was a breathless catch in her voice. "Maybe."

  Max expelled air through his mouth, "That's a step in the right direction."

  Julie found her voice. "Do you know the right direction for us? If you do, tell me because I don't." Confusion and chaos still ran rampant through her thoughts. "Where do we go from here?"

  Max stood and walked across the floor and then turned to face her. He smiled and the lines around his mouth deepened. "Let's settle for living in the present until the baby comes. Deal?"

  At this point Julie would have agreed to anything he asked. "Deal."

  Max stopped beside the bed and stared down at her. "After he arrives we can decide about our future together."

  Julie extended her hand. "Shall we shake on it?"

  "I have a better idea." Max sat beside her cupped his hands around her face, lowered his head and let his lips brush caressingly across her mouth. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

  His humbleness both moved and frightened her. This was a Max she didn't know. But then, hadn't he said that in many ways they were still strangers? Memories from that damnable past she had promised to put from her mind, rose like a specter to haunt her. This man had hurt and betrayed her, not once but twice. Dared she trust him a third time? She stiffened in his arms.

  Drawing back, Max stared into her eyes. "Are you having second thoughts?"

  Julie relaxed slid her arms around his neck, and pulled him to her. Only hours ago she had renewed her wedding vows promising 'for better or for worse' and 'til death do us part'; closing her eyes she lifted her lips for his kiss. "No second thoughts."

  His mouth swooped to cover her lips in a soft, possessive kiss. For all its tenderness, it ignited a fire. Flames of desire flared in Julie's loins, seared upward into her breasts and blazed inside her head. Moaning against his mouth, she felt the world start to slide away. "Max, oh, Max."

  Max's arms straightened and tightened to s
teel bands. He turned from her and dropped his head into his hands. "I must be some kind of an idiot."

  A chill shivered down Julie's spine. She could still taste Max's lips on hers and feel a lingering fire in her loins. Then reason chased away the last remnant of passion. Hadn't he made it perfectly clear several weeks ago that he had no desire to make love to her in her present condition? She laid her hand on the bunched muscles of his forearm. "I understand."

  As Max shifted his position and she could see that for him too, this had been a kiss of passion. That knowledge sent Julie's head spinning. Regardless of anything he had said in the past Max was very aroused. The evidence was impossible to hide considering his state of near undress. After a few moments of disorientation, the scene took on perspective. She had to assume that Max had been celibate for months. For him that was probably a record. Given the circumstances any woman would have aroused him. "It's all right, Max"

  Max dropped his hands, lifted his face and turned to stare at her. "You're not angry?"

  "I'm flattered. A woman in my unattractive state doesn't get many admiring glances."

  "You're not unattractive, you're beautiful." Again there was that note of sincerity and reverence that argued for belief. "With your Madonna face and your body blossoming with my child. Do you know how many times I've longed to touch you?" His hand moved to caress her stomach. "To feel that new life quickening inside you?" Slowly, his fingers slid across her abdomen and along her thighs. "As primitive and pagan as that may seem, it turns me on." His hands moved back up over her stomach as the baby inside gave a strong kick. "Don't shut me out again, Julie. Let me experience this miracle with you."

  Words Max had spoken the day they had eaten lunch at the truck stop flashed through Julie's mind. You were being transformed before my very eyes. She had thought then he had been repulsed by her thick belly and swollen legs. You had become a part of some secret and life-producing process. Maybe she'd been wrong. Lord knew it wouldn't be the first time. She laced her fingers around his. "He's a very strong baby and a little stubborn too." I felt so isolated and alone. She had never meant to shut him out. "Just like his dad."

  Max gathered her into his arms and laid his face against the softness of her breasts. "Isn't it uncomfortable, carrying all that extra baggage around?"

  Julie slid her fingers through the crispness of his curls. "It's happened so gradually that I'm used to it."

  Max explored her stomach with his fingers, stopping when he felt any movement. "He's a rowdy little rascal."

  Julie chuckled. "Maybe he's going to be a quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys." She had not felt this kind of happiness and well being in years. "Doctor Weatherby says he's not a big baby. A good part of this mass is fluid and placenta."

  Once again, Max pulled her into his arms. "I have so much to learn. Our childbirth classes start soon. I'm looking forward to them, aren't you?"

  She hadn't been, but maybe now she could. "I have a lot to learn, too. It's been a long time since I did this."

  "We're going to make it," Max assured her. His lips brushed her cheek. "Good night, sweetheart." He rolled across the bed and lay down beside her.

  Once again the sting of rejection stabbed Julie. She had been so sure Max was going to hold her in his arms and make love to her. He had felt the push of desire she knew that. "Max?" She turned her head and stared at him feeling denial and a touch of fear. Then another thought pushed in around her confusion. He was not being indifferent, he was being considerate and, to his way of thinking, kind. Sometimes men were such fools. She slid one hand under the sheet and moved it down his thigh to that rigid pole between his legs and stroked gently. "Do you remember what Doctor Weatherby said the first time we visited him?"

  Max's body stiffened. "That was six weeks ago." His voice was ragged. "Julie, sweetheart, I'm not made of stone."

  Julie giggled. "A part of you seems to be."

  He grabbed her hand and pushed it away. "I didn't bring you here for this."

  "Are you thinking of denying me my..." She couldn't suppress another giggle. "What did Doctor Weatherby call them? Oh yes, marital privileges?"

  Grabbing both of Julie's roaming hands, Max held them tight. "This is serious, Julie."

  "I'm serious," she assured him, trying to keep the shimmer of happiness out of her voice.

  "You said you wanted to be a part of this process. Well, a part of that process is satisfying me when I have cravings. You would only be obeying doctor's orders." Beneath her bantering tone, ran a thread of serious argument.

  Once again she was in his arms and he was smothering her with kisses. "Julie, Julie." He raised his head. "Are you sure? I want you to be very sure."

  She didn't want him to be deep and contemplative. This interlude should be happy and joyous. Then when she looked back, and she would one day, if it was in bitterness and sorrow, she wouldn't have the added burden of remembering that he had spoken grave promises and made solemn vows. "I married you again, didn't I? Isn't that assurance enough?"

  His smile was like sunshine breaking through the clouds. "I suppose it is." He undid the ribbons that tied the neck of her gown, and pulled the shapeless garment over her head, then tossed it to the foot of the bed. "How are we going to manage this?" His hands began to explore the secret parts of her body. "I don't want to hurt you."

  "You won't." Even as she spoke a wary little voice inside her head warned, he could. He had before.

  Max sensed her hesitation. "Julie, if you're not ready for this I can understand and I'll stop." He scooted to the far side of the bed. That little gesture was more moving and profound than any words he could have spoken. One word, one sign from her, and he would curb his intense desire and deny himself the physical release that his body so desperately needed. He had never shown that kind of restraint before.

  Slowly, carefully, Julie began to move her bulk toward Max's side of the bed. "If Muhammad won't come to the mountain, the mountain has to go to Muhammad." Her jocular tone scarcely concealed the deep and intense emotion that chanted through her being like a celestial love song.

  She had thought her words and actions would comfort and reassure him. Instead, they seemed to have the opposite effect. "This is not just a casual interlude to me. It's much, much, more. Maybe you can make light of what we both feel but I can't."

  "I'm not making light." But she had been. Why, she wondered as she moved even closer, was she so afraid to admit to the strength and intensity of the feelings she had for this man? "I have needs and desires too, you know."

  "Oh, I know." Disgust reverberated in his reply. "I also know those needs are superficial and the desire is temporary."

  That verbal arrow sank shaft-deep into Julie's heart. The pain was excruciating but she discovered to her dismay, not unexpected. Loving Max had always been inexorably tied to pain. That was why she didn't dare lend solemnity to this moment. "Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud."

  Max tossed her gown to her. "Put this on. You'll catch cold."

  She had offered herself and been rejected. Julie slid the gown over her head and tied the ribbons with a flourish. She should leave well enough alone. She couldn't. With a tentative gesture, she said, "We could give each other that physical release we both need."

  "That's not all I need or want. Even though I understand that your needs are purely physical and your wants selfish and fleeting." His words were spoken in a bland, conciliatory tone. "It's what I expected." They scalded like hot water over a fresh burn.

  Wounded as only Max could wound her, Julie turned her face to the wall and fought tears as a fierce battle raged inside her, the struggle of hope and belief against habit and fear. In the end habit and fear prevailed. She could not bring herself to give voice to the words in her heart. Despite her resolve not to cry, tears choked in her throat, slid down her cheeks and onto her pillow.

  "Oh, God," Max moaned, "What have I done now?" He moved across the small space that separated them and gathered Julie in his arms. "Don
't cry, sweetheart. Please don't cry." He held her until the tears slowly subsided.

  Julie wiped her eyes on the end of the sheet. "It's not your fault. I was being frivolous and flippant." She wanted to beg him to make love to her, to declare her everlasting and eternal need, to tell him how desperately she longed, not just a physical coupling, but also an emotional reconciliation. His body pressed so near hers, told her that for him, the magic of the moment was gone. "I'm sorry, Max."

  "So am I." He kissed her cheek. "Sleep well, Julie."

  Julie closed her eyes but sleep was impossible. Disoriented and frightening thoughts ran pell-mell through her troubled mind. Max had wanted to make love to her. His passion had flamed like a torch dipped in kerosene. Then just as suddenly that flame had been extinguished. For her own safety, indeed for her own sanity, she chose to assume that the desire was for pure physical release and the grossness of her body had snuffed out that longing. How wise she had been not to attach some deep and lasting meaning to his aborted attempt at lovemaking. She adjusted her pillow and tried to find a comfortable position. It was a useless endeavor. When the first streaks of an early dawn tinged the morning skies Julie was still reviewing the events of the previous night and trying to reconcile her painful and polarized emotions.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A whining north wind moved restlessly across the flat brush country. The pale sun took refuge behind a bank of gray clouds. If the weather was any indication this would be a dismal Thanksgiving Day. Julie hadn't slept well last night and not without reason. Yesterday had been long and trying. The morning was spent attending to the tedious details of balancing her checkbook and mailing away bills. In the afternoon Mrs. O'Brien's daughter Nancy, her husband Carl and their six-month-old daughter, Bridget arrived at Half Moon.

  "Pregnancy has made me paranoid," Julie told her image, as she recalled her meeting with Mrs. O'Brien's daughter and son-in-law. Mrs. O'Brien had introduced Julie as 'Mr. Max's wife'.

  Nancy, a tall young woman with irregular features and a cloud of dark hair, greeted her with a casual "Hi." Carl, a slim, balding man with a Roman nose and slightly stooping shoulders, held his sleeping daughter in his arms. "Pleased to meetcha, I'd shake your hand but I don't want to disturb Bridget." They were pleasant enough, but detached and distant.