The One Worth Waiting For

by Alicia Scott

  She stared at them for a long time. Then she put them in a box, and not allowing herself to think about it, she took them to the sale.

  Her hands trembled a little when she put them on one of the card tables. She arranged their fresh dresses nicely, tucking in their hair here and there.

  “Why, Suzanne,” came the Reverend Talbot’s voice in her ear. “Surely you can’t be giving away your dolls.”

  She nodded, not able to meet her minister’s eyes for the first time in her life. “They’re just sitting around my place,” she said as briskly as possible. “I thought they might need a little girl who would really love them.”

  She felt the solid weight of the Reverend Talbot’s hand on her shoulder, and her hands stilled in the soft pile of lace and cotton. “You’re a strong woman,” he observed softly. “But don’t think you have to be too strong, Suzanne. The Lord knows we all need a helping band now and then.”

  “I’m fine,” she whispered, and went back to arranging her children so they’d be beautiful enough to buy.

  And they were so beautiful, all white porcelain, black lashes and tumbling blond and brown hair. Bows and tucks of lace and dainty parasols turned them into ladies, soft and feminine, making every little girl’s eyes shine with delight.

  She sold every last one of them to one bright-eyed girl after another. She handed each and every one of them over, placing the money firmly in the tin box on the table. By the end of the afternoon, she’d raised eight hundred dollars for the church, and everyone thanked her for her generosity.

  That night, Mitch called, wanting to know how she was doing. She said fine and he said once he got his hands on Garret, he’d give him a beating such as he hadn’t experienced since he was twelve. She said she was doing fine again and hung up the phone.

  Another night passed until she found herself up again Friday morning, walking, dressing and going to school. She stood before the children in the class, staring at trusting eyes, and realized she couldn’t remember what letter came after N.

  “O,” Jeff filled in for her at last, and she nodded her head thankfully. She did her best to make it through the morning.

  When she walked out at one, she realized she just couldn’t take it anymore. She might say she was fine, she might even act as if she was fine, but she was going through the motions on autopilot, simply waiting for Garret to return.

  Well, damn it, she thought to herself as she got into her car, but she wasn’t sixteen years old anymore. She didn’t have to wait. Garret might not want her in D.C., but she was allowed to make up her own mind. If he wouldn’t come to her, if he didn’t have the courage to even call, then she’d just find him and tell him a thing or two.

  She drove straight past her house and headed for the airport.

  An hour and a half later, she pulled into the long-term parking lot, her hands shaking. She’d get a ticket for D.C. Why not? She didn’t have to teach again until Monday and it wasn’t as if she had any dependents. If she missed a choir practice or two, the universe wouldn’t come to an end.

  She was going to D.C.

  She fumbled in her purse, digging out her credit card with shaking hands. Her stomach knotted and unknotted as she walked to the airline counter, but she didn’t allow her feet to hesitate. Her cheeks finally had color, and that warm glow of determination was beginning to wash through her blood. She was going to do this!

  She’d just stepped up to the waiting attendant when she saw him. Not thirty feet away, he walked past the end of the ticket counters, heading for the escalator leading to the baggage claim. She simply stood there and stared at his retreating back.

  “Ma’am?”

  She looked at the patient airline attendant with a pale face, then abruptly turned and walked away. Her hands tightened on her purse and she walked faster and faster toward the escalator. Garret stepped on and disappeared from sight. She began to run.

  “Excuse me, excuse me,” she mumbled breathlessly, pushing her way through the line of people to run down the escalator. At the bottom, she caught him. “Garret?” she whispered, barely trusting herself to speak.

  Slowly, he turned, already recognizing her voice. His face looked pale and haggard, his eyes darker than she remembered. For a long time, they simply stared at each other while thin waves of people broke around them.

  “Suzanne,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “I—I…” He didn’t know how to get the words out. “I should have called.”

  Wordlessly, she nodded.

  “I wanted to,” he said, rushing out. “I thought of it, even reached for the phone so many times, but…but I just didn’t know what to say.” He took a deep breath and looked at her with his dark, honest eyes. “I’m a civilian now,” he said quietly.

  Her eyes widened, with shock? with horror? He didn’t know. But then she stepped forward and clasped his hands. It wasn’t enough. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face against her neck.

  After fifteen years of service, it hurt him to say those words. Ever since he’d made the decision, it seemed he was swamped with memories of being an enlisted man, his SEAL training, his stint in Officer’s Candidate School. He remembered the men he served with, the teams he served on. Austin, C.J. Jogging along the beach in his T-shirt emblazoned with the eagle, anchor and trident emblem of the SEALs.

  Five years from retirement, and suddenly he was just a man.

  Suzanne shifted in his arms and he slowly let her go. His eyes stung and he hated himself for the weakness. He’d done what was right.

  “What happened?” she asked at last.

  “I was debriefed about Sarajevo,” he said. “Filled out some reports. There was a small trial over my conduct, the fact I told Zlatko who I was. Finally, given my past record and the ‘extenuating circumstances,’ they gave me a reprimand and a mark in my file. But…but I was burned-out before I ever went to Sarajevo, and really burned-out once it was over. It seemed best for me just to take a break from things, try out something new. I had a lot of leave time saved up, and only a few months left on my current service term. I’m a civvy now.”

  “You should have called and told me,” she whispered, but there was no heat in her voice. He looked as if he was hurting, and she never could stand to see Garret Guiness in pain.

  “I know. I didn’t know what to say. For a while, I didn’t know what I wanted.” He paused for a long time, and she found her stomach suddenly twisting into knots. “I have something for you,” he said abruptly.

  He turned and, without preamble, walked to the baggage conveyor belt. Luggage was already gliding along the slow twisting belt.

  “I wanted to give you a better present,” he said, glancing at her with an intense, unreadable expression. “How’s your house?”

  “Fixed,” she said, hating the nervousness shivering through her. A present? Were they back trying to even the slate? A long, rectangular box appeared, and Garret looked unsure. As he pulled it off the belt, she could almost have sworn he looked nervous, as well.

  “I wanted to sneak in and set it up,” he said, “to surprise you. I’m not sure it’s the same to simply hand you a box.”

  She looked at it numbly. It was tied with rope and was taller than herself. “What is it?” she asked, finally finding words.

  “A doll case. Cherry wood. I thought it would go with the table. It has glass shelves that are adjustable. Of course, I need to put it together.” He looked at her expectantly.

  She couldn’t say anything. She tried, but each time she opened her mouth no sound came out. Her throat tightened unbearably.

  “I made it for you,” he said, “over the past couple of months.”

  Oh, he was definitely nervous, his eyes more uncertain than she’d ever seen them. Slowly, she pulled herself together enough to lay a hand on his arm.

  “I’m sure it’s beautiful,” she said thickly.

  He looked at her strangely. “Are you going to cry? I didn’t mean for that, Suzanne.”

 
She shook her head furiously, rubbing at her eyes. “I gave the dolls away,” she whispered, “to the church.”

  He looked startled, then suddenly paled. “Your dolls, Suzanne?”

  She shrugged miserably, her hazel gaze asking forgiveness for her lack of faith. “It had been so long, and you hadn’t called. I wasn’t sure…I just didn’t know what to think anymore.”

  He reached out and slowly stroked her cheek. “I should have called,” he said. “You are so strong and I’ve hurt you so much. Forgive me, Suzanne. Forgive me.” And then, without warning, her eyes widening in shock, he fell to his knees before her. “I don’t want there to be any more doubt, Suzanne,” he said intensely. Squaring his shoulders, he swallowed, took her hand in his and then said in a voice loud and clear enough to slice through the airport chaos, “Will you marry me, Suzanne Montgomery? Will you be my wife forever?”

  People stopped and stared, then a few encouraging claps broke out.

  Suzanne looked down at his intent, blazing eyes, his serious, somber face. And she saw him in rain and she saw him in fire, but mostly she saw him waking up in her bed, morning after morning after morning.

  She saw her future and the love she would finally be able to call her own.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and the scattered clapping exploded into serious applause. All around them, passing strangers stopped and smiled and looked on with goodwill.

  Suzanne leaned down and kissed him, his strong arms around her waist, and it was right.

  Epilogue

  They all sat in the backyard, the picnic table overflowing with Guinesses. Mitch and Jessica each held one of the twins, while Liz Guiness Keaton’s stepson, Andy Keaton, pushed his baby sister with rapt attention on the toddler’s swing. Cagney lounged against the table, one arm around Marina, who was talking to Jessica about teaching. Suzanne would have taken part, but she was showing off her engagement ring to Liz. Garret looked on, still maintaining an indulgent smile despite all the ribbing he’d received from both Mitch and Cagney on finally settling down.

  “So when is Jake gonna be here?” Garret asked in hopes of changing the topic.

  “I’m sure he’ll be in any time now,” Mitch said lazily. William had a solid grip on his finger, and Mitch admired the baby’s strength with a father’s enthusiasm.

  “Does he have himself a woman yet?” Cagney piped up.

  “Nah,” Garret answered. “Jake’s too smart for that.” Suzanne gave him an arched brow, and he caught her in a quick kiss.

  Mitch rolled his eyes and shook his head. “When are you guys getting married, again?”

  “December 15,” Suzanne said, giving her simple ring another admiring glance. “It’s going to be a Christmas wedding. Besides, we wanted to get all the good presents before everyone spends all their money on Cagney and Marina’s wedding.”

  Cagney smiled, waving a mocking finger at his older brother. “Pretty sneaky, you two, getting engaged after me, but married before.” Cagney and Marina had finally set a date in May for a garden wedding.

  “I’m older,” Garret said, “therefore I should get married earlier. Besides, I like presents”

  He grinned roguishly, and all the women exchanged glances at the quintessential Guiness expression.

  “Have you talked to Jake about your furniture shop yet?” Mitch asked seriously.

  “We talked about it last week. He likes the idea. I’m just not sure I want him to be the one financing the operation. Dad and I have enough plans of our own.”

  Mitch nodded, understanding. Jake handled his wealth politely, not making it an issue, but making it available when necessary. Of course, none of them had ever approached him for money, either, and Mitch could understand Garret’s need for a certain degree of independence now that he was putting together his furniture shop. Their father couldn’t be happier that someone was finally taking up the family craft.

  “So what are we going to do for Mom and Dad’s forty-fifth anniversary?” Mitch said, returning their attention to the original matter at hand. “They’re due back home in less than an hour, so we’d better make some decisions.”

  “The trip to Las Vegas,” Liz said immediately. “They fell in love there and have never visited it since. I think they’d love a sort of trip down memory lane. Can you imagine, meeting and getting married in just four days, especially back then?”

  Jessica looked up from Baby Jamie to give Mitch a slow smile. “So that’s where you get it from.”

  Mitch colored slightly, earning himself a great deal of teasing from his assembled siblings. Liz’s husband, Richard Keaton, coughed discreetly, earning everyone’s glances and bailing Mitch out.

  “Liz and I can provide the hotel suite for a week,” Richard said quietly, his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled, then, in unison, both of their gazes turned to their children. Andy was still pushing baby Melinda on the swing. The beautiful girl’s dark coloring was a perfect foil for Andy’s golden looks, and the boy was clearly enraptured with the new addition to the household. Melinda had only to point to something, and he’d trot off and get it. He’d even taken up children’s stories so he could read to her.

  “Marina and I will supply the limo,” Cagney said.

  “Suzanne and I will cover the romantic dinner.”

  “Which leaves Jessica and me supplying tickets to a few shows,” Mitch said. “Jake will cover the airplane.”

  “Speaking of which…” Garret said.

  Mitch looked at his watch, then shrugged. “He’s usually on time. I don’t know, maybe he does have a woman. Remember the actress from last year?”

  They all obediently suppressed smiles. “She was a little much,” Cagney finally said as diplomatically as possible.

  Garret arched a wicked eyebrow. “A little?”

  “At least she was better than the poet,” Mitch said.

  Garret couldn’t keep from laughing this time. “He does like ’em wild.”

  Cagney shook his head. “Face it,” he said with a shrug. “Marina and I are the last wedding Mom and Dad will get.”

  “Yeah,” Garret agreed, “but as long as Jake continues to supply the champagne, who’s complaining?”

  “Where’s he flying in from?” Liz asked, a smile still tickling her lips as she recalled the poet. The woman had been breathtakingly beautiful—all of Jake’s women were—but when their mother had served barbecued ribs, the woman had actually climbed onto the middle of the table and recited an impromptu poem “in memory of” the dead animal.

  “He was in Poland,” Mitch said with a shrug. “He’s having some labor problems at his new plant, I gather. But I thought he was going to be back in Virginia a few days ago. Then again, who knows with Jake?”

  “Uncle Jake is coming?” Andy piped up. For once, he pulled his attention from his baby sister and looked at them all with rapidly blinking eyes behind his thick glasses. Liz smiled at him.

  “Andy worships Jake,” she said dryly, and even Richard had a hint of a smile.

  “Uncle Jake went to Harvard,” Andy said.

  “Yes, dear, we know.” Andy looked at Liz with such longing eyes she gave in with a smile. “All right, Andy, tell us once more about Uncle Jake and the big, bad bully.”

  Andy nodded fervently, his blue eyes lighting up with enthusiasm for his favorite story. “In eighth grade,” he began with hushed tones, “the big, bad bully, Ted Michaels, stole the kids’ lunches, eating them all.” Andy’s eyes grew round. “He was so big, and so bad, no one could stop him. Then Uncle Jake decided that he’d had enough.” Andy leaned forward, and despite the fact they’d all heard the story a dozen times before, everyone around the table leaned forward, as well. “Uncle Jake got all the kids together and said if they paid him one dollar each and gave him their lunches, he’d make sure they were never bothered again, or their money back. The whole eighth grade agreed.

  “So the next day, Uncle Jake came to school early and gathered up all the lunches
. Then he filled all the food with diuretics. At lunchtime, he gave the food to the big, bad bully, Ted.”

  Andy leaned back with a satisfied smile. “And the big, bad bully, Ted Michaels, spent three whole days in the bathroom, because brains can beat brawn anytime.” He looked at his father for confirmation, and Richard nodded agreement.

  “And Jake,” Garret finished for him dryly, “made fifteen bucks profit, because brains can make big bucks, as well.”

  The phone cut through the silence and Garret whistled in appreciation.

  “Speak of the devil, I bet.”

  Cagney got up and walked into his parents’ new house to answer the phone.

  “Jake,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “we figured it was you.”

  “Get me Mitch,” his older brother growled: Cagney frowned. Garret growled and stormed, but Jake simply grinned and got even.

  “Everything all right?” he asked sharply.

  “Sorry, Cage, but I only have thirty seconds left. Get me Mitch.”

  Cagney’s frown grew a little deeper, and when he called out for Mitch, his voice rang with genuine concern. Mitch looked at the group with startled eyes, then slowly got up from the picnic table and walked into the house.

  “Hey, Jake. What’s up?”

  “I’m in jail,” Jake practically snarled at the other end of the line. “Your Bureau people have me under arrest. For God’s sake, Mitch, get over here and talk some sense into these people.”

  “Okay, okay,” Mitch said immediately, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You in D.C.?” At Jake’s grunted confirmation, Mitch glanced at his watch. “I think there’s a four o’clock flight out of Winston-Salem. Give me three hours and I’ll be there. Who’s in charge?”

  Jake mumbled something explicit and uncomplimentary.

  “Now, Jake, I thought they taught you Harvard boys bigger words than that.”

  “Agent Regina O’Doul,” Jake grated out.

  Mitch repeated the name. He hadn’t heard of her, but the witness protection program was its own division anyway.