You Belong to Me

by You Belong to Me (NCP) (lit)

  Mrs. O'Brien drew her eyebrows together and scowled. "All the plans are made. I don't like making changes on such short notice."

  Something inside Julie snapped. She had endured this woman's bullying and insubordination for months. "I am not asking you, I'm telling you. Change the place cards or I will." She knew she was further alienating Mrs. O'Brien. That wasn't wise but considering the circumstances, she didn't have much of a choice.

  "It's all the fault of that terrible Fifi," Mrs. O'Brien complained. "She should never have been invited to Half Moon in the first place. Mr. Max should be a little more firm with his employees."

  "He certainly should! Maybe after what's happened here today he will be." Julie fought to bring her temper under control. "That doesn't change the fact that Fifi is a guest in this house. It is incumbent on us to treat her with respect."

  Mrs. O'Brien shuffled toward the kitchen, mumbling under her breath as she went.

  Julie couldn't hear what she was saying. It was probably just as well that she couldn't. "Will you change the place cards, or will I have to do it?"

  "I'll do it, but I don't like it."

  You don't have to like it, Julie thought. She didn't say anything, just walked back into the living room and sat down. She was sure she hadn't heard the last of this little episode.

  Much to Julie's relief, dinner went well. That was only because she had put as much distance as possible between those visitors who were either hostile or too friendly.

  After dinner Pete sang several songs with Slim and Hank accompanying him. Often he urged the others to join in, but with little response. Then at Julie's behest, Hank played a solo on his violin and Slim strummed a medley of ballads on his guitar. Fred told a colorful, fast-moving tale about his grandfather who had once traveled all the way to Abilene, Kansas, on a trail drive. It was completed just in time for Max to suggest that this would be a good time to catch the Cowboy's football game.

  Those who chose to watch the game went with Max into the den. A few stragglers loitered in the living room. Julie lingered with them. For another three hours she played the gracious hostess, wishing all the while that time would take wings and fly toward tomorrow.

  The day that Julie had thought would never come to an end was finally over. After what seemed an interminable afternoon, Slim and Hank finally said their good-byes and left taking Fifi and Emma with them. On the heels of their departure, Pete, Joe, and Fred retired to the bunkhouse. Lupe, Jose, and their children, along with Mr. and Mrs. Reyes left soon afterward, pleading the excuse of having chickens to feed and cows to milk at home.

  When Mr. and Mrs. Morrison went to their room, Julie breathed a sigh of relief. At last she could have a few moments alone with Shannon. "Come with me to my room," she told her daughter. "We can talk, and I can show you the new things I've bought for the baby."

  "I'm sorry Mamma," Shannon apologized, "But Brett wants to drive over to Pleasanton and catch a movie he wants to see." Her eyes pleaded for understanding. "We can talk tomorrow."

  Julie suspected that Brett was doing this deliberately but she didn't complain. Why should she? What good would it do?

  Soon after, Carl and Nancy drove away toward Pleasanton and Mrs. O'Brien took herself off to her quarters behind the kitchen without even so much as a good night. Julie stretched out on the couch. She closed her eyes and thought that everything considered this had been a thoroughly rotten day. She kept recalling how that Max, after being aloof and distant for weeks, had without a qualm, tossed a problem of his own making into her lap and expected her to help him solve it. Between trying to keep Mr. Morrison and Mr. Reyes separated and maneuvering to put distance between Carl and Fifi she had been too busy to pay much attention to anyone or anything else. Then the instant she had a few spare minutes Brett had whisked Shannon away with the flimsy excuse of seeing a movie.

  As if that weren't enough, there was Mrs. O'Brien's intractable obstinacy. She had made Julie's already difficult day even more trying. The woman was impossible. Blinking back tears Julie sat up. What was she doing in this place? She didn't belong here.

  Sudden resolve brought her to her feet. She was going to call Royce. It would be balm to her wounded spirit to have someone who would listen and sympathize. Moving as fast as her cumbersome body would allow Julie hurried toward Max's office and a telephone. She yanked on the door only to discover that it was locked. Julie redirected her footsteps back down the hall and toward the kitchen. Maybe Mrs. O'Brien had a key.

  She knocked on Mrs. O'Brien's door three times before there was an answer. "Yes? Who is it?"

  By now Julie was winded. "It's me, Mrs. Anderson," she puffed. "Please open the door."

  After a lengthy wait, Mrs. O'Brien peered around her slightly opened door. "I was in bed."

  Julie pointed out, "But you're up now. Come and unlock the office for me."

  Mrs. O'Brien opened her door a little wider. "Mr. Max's office?"

  Julie put her hands on her hips. "You do have a key, don't you?"

  "I only go in there to clean." Mrs. O'Brien seemed intent on arguing.

  "That's not what I asked you." Julie could feel her temper slipping out of control.

  Mrs. O'Brien's mouth firmed into a disapproving line. "I have a key."

  Julie held out her hand. "Let me have it."

  "Mr. Max is particular about his office. He doesn't like people going in there."

  "I am Max's wife," Julie reminded the other woman haughtily. "I think I know what Mr. Max likes and doesn't like." She snapped her fingers. "Let me have the key."

  "I'll open the door for you." Mrs. O'Brien wasn't about to surrender her key. She disappeared and returned a few minutes later with her key ring in her hand. "I don't think Mr. Max is going to like this."

  Julie followed Mrs. O'Brien down the hall. "If Max has reason to complain, it can be to me."

  Mrs. O'Brien unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Push the catch on the inside of the knob when you leave and the door will lock itself." She retraced her footsteps back down the hall toward her quarters.

  Julie went inside. The room was small and neat. An oak desk stood against one wall. Beside it was a tall file cabinet. Another table in the far corner held a computer and a printer. On a smaller desk near the window Julie spied the telephone and a fax machine. She pulled the chair from behind the desk to the table, sat down and was immediately swamped with second thoughts. She shouldn't break a promise. Then all the frustrating, annoying events of the day swamped through her memory. The nagging ache in her head ruptured into a pulse-pounding throb. She put her fingertips to her temples and massaged gently. After a few indecisive minutes she picked up the telephone.

  She was poised to dial when she realized someone was on the line. She put the receiver to her ear, placed her hand over the mouthpiece and listened.

  A tear-smothered voice whispered into the silence. "But Max, darling, can't you see how pointless it all is?"

  Max's deep baritone sounded in Julie's ear. "Andrea, I've made a commitment. I have to honor it. Please try to see this from my point of view."

  Again a feminine voice invaded Julie's ear, this time louder and more shrill. "It's the oldest trick in the world; how could you fall for it a second time?"

  Max replied, "Please, Andrea, I'm not up to going through this again tonight."

  Julie knew she should hang up; try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to take the phone from her ear. Again, Andrea's voice impinged. "You don't owe that woman anything."

  Max drew a long breath. "This has been a miserable day; please don't make it any worse."

  Andrea was immediately contrite. "I'm so sorry darling. I won't say another word."

  "I have to go." Max replied. "I'll call you in a day or so." He hung up the phone.

  Julie dropped the receiver into its cradle. Once again she had trusted Max and once again he had let her down. She should feel something, anger, outrage, humiliation. Instead, a quiet numbness had taken over.


  Being careful to push the button on the side of the knob, Julie shut the office door and began the long journey to her own quarters.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Slow time plodded along changing November's withered leaves into December's barren boughs. Melancholy autumn was drawing to a close. Soon winter with all its howling cold would bear down from the north bringing with it icy blasts and freezing rains.

  Julie laid aside the circular she had been flipping through. This had to be her ultimate concession, Christmas shopping from a mail order catalog. Her heart wasn't in shopping anyway. The truth was she had no heart to do anything anymore. For almost a month she had tried to find a justification for Max's deceit. There must be some explanation. Could she bear to hear it? She could confront him but he knew she wouldn't.

  A knock on her door caused Julie to stir and call out, "Yes?"

  "It's me, Mrs. O'Brien."

  In all the months Julie had been at Half Moon, Mrs. O'Brien had never been to her rooms, not even to clean. Six weeks ago Julie would have told her to go away. In her present state it didn't seem worth the effort. "What do you want?"

  "May I come in?" Mrs. O'Brien asked and then tagged her request with an unexpected "Please."

  How could Julie refuse without seeming quarrelsome and contentious? "It's unlocked."

  Mrs. O'Brien stopped just inside the door. "Mr. Max called and said he'll be late getting home this evening."

  Julie didn't even bother looking around. "Thank you."

  Mrs. O'Brien took a few tentative steps in Julie's direction. "Why don't you have a telephone in here?"

  Julie gritted her teeth to keep from lashing out at this nosey old woman. "Because I don't want one."

  "Aren't you being a little selfish?" Mrs. O'Brien stopped at the far end of the couch. "Shutting yourself off from everyone this way? Mr. Max worries about you."

  "I'm sure he does." But not in the way Mrs. O'Brien thought.

  The housekeeper folded her arms across her substantial bosom. "Will you wait and have dinner with Mr. Max?"

  The thought of food made Julie nauseous. "I'm not hungry."

  "You have to eat, Mrs. Anderson," Mrs. O'Brien argued with the pious force of one who's convinced she's right.

  Most of Julie's life had been decided for her by circumstances beyond her control. One of the few areas she could still regulate was when she ate. "Don't tell me what I have to do."

  Not in the least intimidated Mrs. O'Brien asked, "What about Mr. Max?"

  Julie's eyes rounded in mock surprise. "Mr. Max?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed to be completely under his spell. But then, why should she be an exception? "What about him?"

  Mrs. O'Brien sat on the far end of the couch. "There's something wrong between the two of you. I know I'm prying into things that are none of my business, but it's killing Mr. Max." She used the corner of her apron to wipe a tear from one eye. "And it's breaking my heart to see him suffering this way."

  "Max will survive. He's a big boy." How heartless and calloused that sounded.

  "I'm not so sure." Mrs. O'Brien twisted the edge of her apron. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  "What's between Max and me is personal." Mrs. O'Brien's tactics were offensive but her motives seemed pure. Compassion softened Julie's voice. "This has been a difficult pregnancy. After the baby comes everything will fall into place."

  Mrs. O'Brien shook her head. "You don't believe that Mrs. Anderson, anymore than I do." Standing, she took a backward step. "I can see it was a mistake for me to say anything. I won't again." She slipped through the door and closed it behind her.

  Her heavy tread sounded down the hall and echoed through Julie's trouble mind. So Max was miserable and even an outsider whose powers of perception seemed less than astute could discern the reason for his misery.

  It came as it always did in times of crises and indecision, that compelling urge to reach out to Royce for support and understanding. For so long now he had been Julie's rock and her strength.

  With the quickening power of chained lightening, a stark realization jolted through her, shaking her to the core of her being. Royce was no rock and he wasn't strong! He was weak and indecisive. The understanding they shared was little more than a tacit agreement to find excuses for shared ambivalence and uncertainty. The revelation hit her like a blow to the head leaving her dazed and at the same time amazingly lucid. In one unforgiving moment the fabrications that had held her world together exploded and splintered around her like shattering glass. In the aftermath of that chaotic upheaval a frightening truth crystallized: The most devastating lies are the lies we tell ourselves.

  And Julie had spent most of her life embracing lies and running from the truth. When she learned she was pregnant with Shannon she should have faced the cold facts. Max wanted to go to college, not be tied down with a wife and a family. Instead she had made herself believe in some imagined happy-ever-after and set the stage for her own future unhappiness.

  When she became aware that Lucie Traywick was stealing Max from her, she should have looked to her own deficiencies as a wife and a woman and then fought for the man she loved. Like a fool she had placed all the blame on Max, given up and run home to her mother. And Mamma, because she loved her little girl, had aided and abetted Julie's self-deception.

  When her mother was dying and Julie learned she was pregnant again, she should have stood up to any adversity that fate threw at her and found a way, any way to keep her baby. It had been so much easier to deceive herself into believing that an abortion was the only solution.

  Then Mamma died and Julie had transferred her dependence to Jean. After Jean was gone how natural it had seemed for Royce to take her place. But Royce had lacked the emotional stamina that was an innate part of Jean. The result was the growth of a mutual self-deception and shared dependence that, through the years, had flourished as it fed on its own need.

  Julie pressed icy fingers to her forehead. She was afraid of life! And for all these years she had hoodwinked herself into believing she was brave and courageous. Now she must come to grips with a hard and hidden truth. "I'm a damn coward!" With considerable effort, she got to her feet, walked to the window and stood staring into the gathering night.

  She was so lost in her own miserable thoughts that she didn't hear the door open or see Max enter the room. His hand was on her shoulder before she realized she was not alone.

  "Julie? Are you all right?" She could feel the tenseness in his touch as he pulled her around to face him. "I heard you cry out." The last rays of pale sunlight filtering through the window accentuated the lines in his face and deepened the shadows in his eyes.

  How Julie longed to smooth those lines of tension away and chase the shadows of sadness from his eyes. Maybe it was time she admitted another irrefutable fact. Regardless of anything he had done, or ever would do, she loved this man. She always had. She always would. "Actually, I'm feeling better than I have in a long time."

  "That's good to hear." Max took her arm and led her toward the couch. "I've been worried about you. You've seemed so despondent lately."

  Julie chose her words carefully. She didn't want to upset that delicate tension between hostility and formality. "It's kind of you to be concerned."

  Max helped her to sit down. "When the baby comes things will be better."

  "I'm sure they will be." She was certain of one thing, they couldn't get much worse. Julie rested her feet on a footstool and steered the conversation toward a safer subject. "I thought you were going to be late. Mrs. O'Brien said you called."

  "Things went better than I expected." Max sat on the other end of the couch. His calm exterior couldn't quite hide a ripple of anxiety.

  "That's good." His uneasiness was contagious. Julie's stomach muscles tightened. "Have you had dinner?"

  "Not yet. I wanted to look in on you first. Mrs. O'Brien says you haven't eaten since morning. Would you like to have diner with me."

  After a moment of strained silence, Juli
e nodded. "I would. Thank you."

  Mrs. O'Brien looked surprised when Julie came with Max into the dining room. Without question or comment, she set another place at the table, served dinner and then disappeared. Getting out of the line of fire, Julie decided. Maybe the woman was more perceptive than she had thought.

  Conversation through the meal was stilted but not unpleasant. Max did most of the talking, discussing Half Moon and saying how he was learning the finer points of ranching. Julie listened and smiled. After awhile some of her uneasiness began to slip away.

  Max took a last sip of coffee, pushed his chair back and laid his napkin on the table. "Shall we go into the living room? There are some things we should discuss and I think you'd be more comfortable there."

  She knew that tone of voice. This was not going to be good news. Julie waddled into the living room and carefully lowered herself onto the couch.

  Max waited until she was seated before perching on the arm of an overstuffed chair. "I should have said this weeks ago."

  Julie didn't flinch. She had promised herself, no more running from the truth and she intended to keep that promise. "Would you like to say it now?"

  "I'm sorry. I though it would work. It didn't."

  He could only be talking about one thing--their marriage. Julie dropped her head and closed her eyes against a sudden onrush of pain. "Did you really think it had a chance?"

  "Yes. I did." Max's fingers drummed the back of the chair. "I thought it would be like a party or a reunion. I never had a family, just my old man. How was I supposed to know the whole thing would blow up in my face?"

  Puzzled, Julie blurted out, "What are you talking about?"

  Max stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm talking about what happened Thanksgiving Day."

  Did he know she had overheard his conversation with Andrea? A little pulse began to hammer at the base of Julie's throat. "I'm not sure I know what you're trying to say."