“You’ve lost weight,” he said. “I mean, since the photos at the basketball game were taken.”
“Yes, that happens.” Lucia peered toward the gate through which Doug had gone, and smiled. Mark glanced over his shoulder and saw him on a bench across the street, the little girl dancing around the stroller, pretending to be a ballerina. He wondered if Doug’s presence was a visual assertion of his claim to Lucia or whether one of them had feared she would need protection. He had been rather aggressive the last time the three of them were in the same room together.
“They start lessons so young these days,” Lucia said. She sipped her tea and looked up at Mark.
“What happened, Lucia? Did I do something to drive you away?”
Tears filled her eyes. “You did nothing to drive me away.”
Mark’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t understand. “So, you and Doug…all along?”
“No, never. I was in love with you,” Lucia cried.
“Then what?”
She dabbed at her eyes.
“I was in love with you,” she repeated. “Madly, absolutely in love.” She bit her lower lip. “That afternoon…” She shook her head and, taking a deep breath, seemed to start over.
“There was nothing between Doug and me. Nothing, really. I mean, he was a nice guy and all. Your best friend. Interesting to talk to, fun to tease, but as for…anything else…” She shrugged. “We flirted. You knew that. It’s what I did. I always flirted with the guys.”
“So what happened?” Mark crossed his arms.
“That afternoon, it was early. I didn’t expect you home for another hour, at least, and we had been having tea, waiting for you to get home. I was cooking fish chowder, remember? You had invited Doug over for dinner as you always did when I cooked, and he had come early, as he always did, so we could talk.
“It was springtime. I was sitting on the sofa, enjoying the breeze that blew in through the open window. The shadows were long and the sun would be setting soon, and I knew you would be coming in shortly. Doug was stretched out, with his head in my lap. You know, he always did that.” She paused, staring at the wall as if seeing the events as she described them.
He always did that? Mark began to protest, but decided to allow her to talk.
“We were just talking. Nothing special. Then, he told me about this girl he had seen as he had left campus. She was wearing the tightest shorts he had ever seen on a woman. He could see, he said, every curve of her rump, as he called it, every movement, as plainly as if she’d been naked.” She looked at Mark. “You know how he was. He always talked about girls. Just fooling around.” She glanced around, as if to assure herself she would not be overheard.
“I noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor in the kitchen. It had taken me almost an hour to clean up your mess, to make your apartment presentable,” she smiled again, “and I wanted everything to be perfect when you came in, so I went to pick it up.” She pushed a stray hair out of her eyes.
“As I bent over, Doug said that I had a nice rump. Just out of the blue, he said it. ‘A nice round rump that would put that other girl’s to shame.’” She shook her head.
“He liked my bum. He’d said so before. He would pat it, popped it a couple of times, but all in fun, all in fun.”
Had I seen him, I’d have broken his hand, Mark thought. He was becoming angry.
“I huffed and told him he had a big fat ass, like I always did and he said…he said, ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’”
Lucia looked back at Mark.
“Mark, I’ve run it over and over in my mind. I honestly don’t know how it happened, but I heard myself saying, ‘You first.’” She shook her head.
“Why would I say that?” she cried.
“I thought he was all bluster, the way he talked about girls, things he claimed to have done. You know, all talk, no action? It never entered my mind…There was a pause, and I started to laugh as I turned away, having called his bluff, but then I heard the sofa squeak as he stood, and his belt buckle banged on the floor as he dropped his trousers. I whipped around and his boxers were down, too, and his rear end…”
She took a deep breath. “I just stood there, staring, not sure what I was to do, and Doug was turned about, wiggling his bottom at me, and he looked over his shoulder and called, ‘I dare you.’” She wiped her eyes.
“And you always have to follow through on a dare,” Mark said sarcastically.
She stared at the ceiling, tears running down her face.
“Yes, I do.” She swallowed hard. “Then I looked at him over my shoulder. He had turned around, and he was looking at me. I’ve never seen a guy’s eyes as big as his were. Then he said that my…my bust was like a pair of perfectly shaped…” She shook her head. “He always talked about girls’ chests. Once or twice, I caught him peeking down my shirt, but he never…Anyway, I called him a hairy ape and he said…”
“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” Mark spat out the words.
They had been building up to this, and she was trying to gloss over what had happened, make it appear an accident.
Lucia nodded. “Before I even realized what we were doing, our clothes were in piles on the floor, we were in a pile on the bed, and…” She buried her head in her hands. “Four minutes later, I swear, four minutes, I heard you call my name. If you’d arrived ten minutes earlier, five, really, we would just have been playing around, we’d have laughed it off…you and I would be married today. I know we would.”
Mark glared at her.
“You didn’t love Doug?”
“Love him?” She shook her head. “Oh, no. No way. I was a horny twenty-one-year-old girl. Our mothers had all told us to save it for marriage, and my boyfriend had to be one of the few guys I knew who took his mum seriously.” She gulped. “Doug was available.”
She dropped her eyes.
“But you married him. Why? Why would you do that? Why didn’t you come back to me? I called you. I told you I loved you. We could have worked it out. We…”
“I was so upset and angry and ashamed of myself. I couldn’t face you and I wanted nothing to do with Doug. At the same time, I wanted…totally bonkers.” She swallowed hard. “I missed my…I was late, so I went to the OB, and the rabbit died, as they used to say.” Her voice caught.
“I cried for two days because the baby wasn’t yours. I tracked Doug down and he did the right thing. Three days later we were standing before a judge.”
“The little girl?” He motioned toward the child who was now peering into the stroller, dangling a toy over it.
Lucia nodded. “Eliza.” She smiled. “Then, there are the twins, Alice and Annie. I’d always wanted a little girl, and now I have three.”
Mark said nothing. He continued to stare at her, his eyes hard.
“You did nothing wrong, Mark. You were kind, and sweet, and loving, and understanding. I was desperately in love with you…I would never, ever tell Doug, but when we were rolling around on the bed, in my mind it was you I was with. Then I heard your voice, and opened my eyes, and it was all too late.”
“If you don’t love Doug, how can you…?
“I like Doug. We have a good time together. We love our children.” She shook her head. “Mark, I couldn’t tell my mum I was having a baby without a husband and I couldn’t suggest that you marry me.”
“You didn’t think I would?”
“Knowing I was carrying his child? I could mislead my mum about the date, but not you.” She shook her head.
“The marriage was a convenience. We both knew it. But he was kind, good to me. I tried to be good to him. When you’re together like that, expecting Eliza, going to dinner, to movies, sleeping next to each other…things change. You can’t believe me, I know, but Doug is a good person. I think I’m a good person. We made a terrible mistake, but it turned out well for us.”
They sat without talking for several moments. Lucia idly sipped her tea while Mark simply stared i
nto his.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” he finally said.
“What about you, Mark? Have you found someone?”
“It’s hard to fall in love with someone when you dream of another woman every night.”
Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. “I never intended to hurt you.”
Mark nodded. “But you did.”
He rose from the bench on which they were sitting. “Good-bye, Lucia.” He turned and strode away without looking back.
He walked with his head down, staring at the ground, paying no attention to the traffic, not even to the blaring horn on the car that barely missed hitting him.
“Mark. Mark, stop,” Karen shouted.
His head jerked up when he heard Karen’s voice, finding her standing on the sidewalk across from the park, reaching out to stop him before he ran over her.
“Are you all right?” She put her hand to his face, stroking his cheek. “Who was that?” She peered over his shoulder.
Mark’s eyes focused on Karen, then he glanced behind, catching a glimpse of Lucia before she turned the corner and disappeared. He’d done nothing to drive Lucia away. He owed her nothing, not three years of sleepless nights, three years of self-blame, three years of misery. He certainly didn’t owe her his love.
He had tried to be a gentleman, to treat her as his mother had taught him to treat a woman, but, in the end, his mother had been right. Lucia was a little tramp. He had allowed his memories of a different Lucia to govern his thoughts, to control his behavior, and to warp his perceptions of other people. Now, it was as if the dark cloud hovering over him had suddenly lifted and had blown out to sea.
“No one,” he said. “No one important.”
He smiled as he wrapped his arms around Karen and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss. As it slowly ended, Karen’s eyes drifted open and she stared at Mark, looking at him questioningly.
“Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
Mark laughed. “Nothing at all. I’m happy, Karen, happy to see you.” He smiled as he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. He looked into her eyes.
“I love…finding you here. I’m so happy to have you.
A Walk in the Park
The mid-December sun provided little warmth, and Karen pulled her long wool coat close to her body. She’d had the coat since she was a student in Virginia, and even though she had little call for it while living in Charleston, on days like this one she was very happy to find it hanging in her closet.
Karen and Mark left her aunt’s house and walked hand in hand through the park at the Battery. The six months since their engagement had flashed past as Karen had found herself shopping for her gown, selecting flowers, sampling cakes, locating a caterer, and selecting the menu for their reception. Their wedding was only a week away, and this morning, her aunt had given a brunch in their honor.
Karen’s eyes had popped when she saw the food, everything from made-to-order omelets to grilled Scottish salmon and sautéed shrimp. Platters of bacon and ham, and bowls of grits, potatoes, and fruit were spread across the table. Slices of french bread, hard rolls, and chocolate bread—Karen’s special request—as well as biscuits and gravy were set out on a sideboard.
It was only polite, Karen had decided, to try a little of each.
Fifty people had sat at the dining table that stretched across her aunt’s ballroom. Both families had been included. Aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and siblings had been invited, some driving in from out of town.
“A marriage is a merging of two families,” her aunt had told her, “not simply a union of two people. Too often today, families have little say on the merger, but everyone deserves the opportunity to meet the new relatives before bumping into them at the wedding.”
Karen had felt apprehensive. Except for her aunt, who belonged to a wealthy Charleston family, her relatives were solidly middle class, while Mark’s family had money, “old money.” She had not been concerned about Mark’s immediate family, his mother, father, and Emily were wonderful, but she had never met many of his other relatives.
Everything had proceeded smoothly though. Her mother and Mark’s aunt had become instant friends, bonding as they had discussed the history of the old plantation north of the city where his aunt lived, and Karen had discovered that her father was the accountant for Mark’s two uncles.
Karen felt happy as they traipsed across the park.
“I’ve eaten enough today to hold me until the wedding,” Karen whispered to Mark as they descended the steps after thanking her aunt and telling her good-bye. “My wedding dress would gape in the back if I were to try it on now. How about a walk before you take me home?”
They crossed the street and followed the path toward the gazebo in the middle of the park. A group had gathered, several women wearing long ice-blue dresses, several men in tuxedoes. An older man was helping a young woman, wearing a long white dress, to step out of a horse-drawn carriage that had stopped on the street nearby.
“It’s a wedding,” Karen exclaimed. “Let’s watch.”
They joined the crowd that was gathering around the gazebo. A few seemed to be guests who were not part of the wedding party. Others obviously were tourists. They watched the bride’s procession up the three steps leading into the gazebo, listened as the minister led the bride and groom in their vows, and clapped loudly after their first kiss as husband and wife.
“That will be us, next week,” Karen whispered.
Mark nodded. “Except we’ll be down the street at Grace Cathedral.”
Karen squeezed his hand. “I can’t wait.”
Karen recalled her mother’s reaction when she had told her they planned to have a Christmas wedding.
“Seven months is simply not enough time to plan a wedding,” her mother had insisted. “It’s already May, sweetheart. The church will be reserved. You need to buy a dress, find a caterer, choose flowers and…Karen, be reasonable. A wedding next spring, or even better, in the early summer, will be lovely.”
“There was a cancellation, something about the bride and groom eloping to Las Vegas, and I’ve reserved the cathedral,” Karen had replied. “Mark and I will be married on December sixteenth, either at Grace or at city hall.”
Actually, had the church not been available, the plan had been to be married at the gazebo just like the couple who were dashing toward the waiting carriage, rice raining down on their heads.
The crowd began to disperse, some to follow the bride and groom to their reception, others, the tourists, to walk on the Battery or to move away in search of something to eat. Karen and Mark strolled across the park toward a sunny spot on the other side.
“Look, Mama,” a little boy shouted. “Ice cream.”
He pointed to a vendor who was offering ice cream from her cart at the far end of the park. Mark asked Karen if she would like a cone. She stared at the cart and licked her lips.
“If it were anything but ice cream I would refuse, but, you know me.” She smiled up at Mark.
“A most appropriate treat for the Ice Queen, I think.”
Karen noticed his half smile, and grinned back.
“Ice Queen,” she huffed. “I like that. If you want to see the Ice Queen, Doctor Stuart…” She slipped her hand away from his, but he caught it and clasped it between both of his.
“No you don’t.” He laughed.
“Then don’t call me names.” She pretended to pout.
“Come on.” He pretended to be contrite. “Truthfully, I’ve never found your title to be very descriptive, but that will be our secret.” Mark put his arm around her. “No other guy needs to know.”
Karen snuggled against him. “No other guy will ever know.” She glanced back at the ice cream cart.
“I’d like chocolate…”
“Big surprise there.”
“Dark chocolate, double chocolate, fudge chocolate, death by chocolate, whatever. Their chocolatiest chocolate.”
“You do seem to be part
ial to that flavor,” Mark observed, “but don’t you think it’s a bit extreme to have our reception catered by Chocolate Heaven.”
“That restaurant is most appropriately named. Besides, they were a sentimental favorite. You took me there on our first-fourth date.”
“And our second-first date, and…”
“I’m really looking forward to the reception.” Karen licked her lips again.
“You are supposed to be looking forward to the wedding,” Mark said, a hint of reproof in his voice. “And to the wedding night,” he whispered.
“Okay.” She laughed. “Those too. Chocolate is the way to my heart, though. No doubt about it.”
“Would have saved a lot of trouble if I’d discovered that sooner. I’d have plied you with bags of Nestlé’s kisses.”
“Your kisses are certainly nice.”
They both laughed.
At one time, their conversations had seemed so formal and proper, stilted almost. Now they were able to have lighthearted discussions, to tease each other, and Karen thought of how much they resembled Vicky and John.
Mark laughed so easily, now—just like she remembered him in high school.
She recalled the time she had finally persuaded Vicky to tell her about Mark and Lucia. It had been shortly after she and Mark had begun to date the second time. As before, Vicky had attempted to pass the question to Mark, but Karen refused to let her deflect it.
“What, exactly am I supposed to say to Mark? Tell me about your old girlfriend? I don’t think so.”
Vicky had described how Mark had met Lucia during the year he studied in England. They had fallen in love and, when Mark had returned home, Lucia had followed. When Mark went to graduate school in Boston, she had moved to be with him. “A friend of his told Emily, who told me, that Mark was going to ask her to marry him.”
“They must have been in love if she came all that way to be with him. What happened?” she had demanded. “Did she say no?”
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