“Poker night. I’ve been on a roll. No Rita James to call my bluff.
Regg ie’s all r ight, but Rob’s no competition, and Per r y’s just pathetic.”
She folded her hands purposefully. “It was a mistake to mix personal and professional.”
“Well, we all know you don’t make mistakes, Dr. James.” He saw her stiffen. “Or is it possible, just possible, you’re human like the rest of us?”
“What do you want, Cal?”
“I want you to know there’re no hard feelings. You trusted your professional judgment and acted on it.”
She sat back in her chair, and her features softened. What load had she been carrying? He saw her throat work and thought she’d answer, but then she stood and walked to the window behind the desk. “It wasn’t my professional judgment I acted on. It was personal.”
Cal hadn’t expected that. He shifted in the seat.
“I was so … angry that you could overcome what I couldn’t get you past. That on your own, you’d faced the fear and didn’t need me. I felt so … useless.”
That was an admission he’d never expected. Rita angry that he’d healed? Without her? He stood and walked to her, turned her from the window, and held her. She was thin and hard like a bird with no feathers, too short for his height. Her hair smelled of shampoo. She started to cry.
“It’s all right, Rita.”
She looked up at him, mascara making streaks down her cheekbones. “Sometimes I’m so alone. What am I doing? Do I really make a difference? Or is it all out of my hands, just some random accident when someone recovers. Do I have any purpose at all?”
“Of course you do. You’ve helped too many to deny that. You helped me.”
“Did I?” She looked up accusingly.
“It was all part of the process. I was definitely taking the wrong track. You steered me back.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m here. Don’t you ever feel alone?”
Cal’s stomach clenched. More than he wanted to consider. “Yeah. But maybe it’s supposed to be that way.” God hadn’t gift wrapped Laurie. She’d walked away, gone back to her fairy-tale life. “Maybe it’s so we can serve a greater number in a bigger way. You here, me with the department.”
She dropped her forehead to his chest. “I’m sorry, Cal. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. Things worked out in spite of you.” He raised her chin and smiled into her wretched features.
She sniffed. “Not totally in spite.”
He quirked a brow.
“I did have a part in funding your program.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “You did? You’re the one who got it through committee?”
She pinched her nose with a tissue from her pocket. “I had to do something.” She dabbed the tears beneath her eyes. “At least if you never spoke to me again, I’d know I’d done something to make it right.”
Cal shook his head. “Poor Rita. Trying to carry it all. You and I are two nuts, you know it?”
She tossed the tissue into the trash. “Well, I …”
“There’s an easier way. It’s just that overachievers like us need to be knocked up side of the head to see it.”
She searched his face as though knowing where he was going but not sure she was hearing it from him.
“There’s a function Reggie introduced me to. It’s a little off the wall, but if you want to know how I really recovered, you might find it enlightening.”
“I don’t …”
“Why don’t you let me pick you up, six-thirtyish. Dress casual.” Which meant Rita’s attire would match the others’ Sunday best.
She sniffed. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
He bent and kissed her forehead. “Not too much.”
Driving home, he felt ten pounds lighter. He should have gone to her sooner, should have listened to the other nudges Reggie had given him. He was right as usual. Rita needed a friend.
Laurie applauded with the crowd around her. She glanced at Stuart and smiled. The show had been amazing, a truly original performance as only L.A. or New York could provide. Though the reviews had been scathing, Stuart insisted they’d missed the point. And he was right, of course.
She stood up beside him as the applause swelled and the ovation continued. Diamonds dangled from her ears, his latest gift. They matched the solitaire diamond in the thick gold chain on her throat. There was no one in the crowd more elegantly attired, no couple more eye-catching. Especially Stuart. Laurie saw the envious stares.
Yet as she stood there, loneliness tore a hole inside her. It was happening more frequently, the hollow, futile feeling. Maybe she needed to spend more time with Luke and Maddie. There just didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day. Between Stuart and his mother, she was on more committees, involved in more events and entertainments, than she’d thought possible. The hours she’d put in at Maple’s seemed a vacation. But she didn’t want to think about that dreadful time. How shocked would Wanda Prelane have been to see her there! And Stuart … would he have come and sat in a booth and ordered coffee— She stopped that thought in its tracks.
Stuart caught her elbow. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She gave him a falsely bright smile.
They sidled out between the seats. Keenly aware of the eyes on Stuart, Laurie followed him to the lobby, then out the doors. He gave his receipt to the valet, and she watched the people watching him. He commanded the space around him. No one could look at Stuart Prelane and not think “man of substance,” even if they didn’t know who he was. Unlike Brian, he had always known the ascendancy of the firstborn son. He needed nothing more.
Something shrank inside her. Did he need her? He was solicitous and attentive. He never said he loved her and never asked her in return. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted? No expectations of a romantic attachment they both knew was impossible. Did he think she would come to love him? Would she? He was everything Brian had been and more. He was too responsible to cheat on her. She would never deal with embarrassment from Stuart Prelane. He could do no wrong. He was perfect.
She shuddered. Maybe through Stuart, she’d attain perfection herself. Or maybe all that she lacked would show that much more. That was her real fear, wasn’t it? Stuart never criticized, never corrected her. But it wasn’t the same acceptance she’d found in only one other place. It was as though he didn’t look deeply enough to notice her flaws. He was satisfied with the surface.
The car arrived and she climbed in. Luke and Maddie would be asleep when they returned, but she needed to see them, even if it was only to look at their sleeping faces all tucked into designer sheets and comforters.
“You’re quiet tonight.” Stuart took his hand from the wheel and rested it on hers.
“Still taking it in, I guess.”
He smiled. “The sign of a true theatre aficionado.”
She smiled back. It was true. She loved the theater, the performances that stirred memories of her own meager attempts in that area, attempts Cal had convinced her to make. Cal. When would the pain lessen? When would she think of him without her chest seizing up and her stomach knotting?
“What is it?”
She startled and turned. “What?”
“You had a pained look.”
She sighed and dropped her gaze to her hands. “Just a memory.” It would be enough. Stuart would think it was Brian she recalled, and he was very careful not to probe there.
He petted her fingers. “You still haven’t given me an answer.”
She looked at his hand, noted its smooth texture on her skin, the long, well-formed fingers. She remembered another hand, sootstained and bleeding. Cal’s hand leading her out of the inferno. “It’s too soon.”
“To make it public, or to know?”
She looked out the window at the city lights flashing by. When she didn’t answer, Stuart let it go, tact embodied. He kissed her at the door and strolled back to the car, his suit coat parti
ng slightly in back as he took the keys from his pocket. He glanced up and waved, then climbed in and drove away.
Laurie closed her eyes and leaned against the doorjamb, then went inside and shut the door behind her. She locked it and set the alarm, then went up the swirling staircase to the bedroom suites that housed her children—their own rooms in the house she and Brian had bought with the down payment that was their wedding gift from the Prelanes.
Luke had thrown his covers to one side. She pulled the sheet free and placed it softly over his form. He stirred and rolled, then settled back in without opening his eyes. Maddie was nestled in a cloud of lavender and cream. One hand cradled her cheek, the other was tucked inside the gray squirrel puppet. Fluffy was lodged between her soft belly and the sheet.
Laurie looked up at the wall shelf filled with stuffed animals. Why those two? Why would she only sleep with those two? She bent and kissed Maddie’s cheek. Maddie’s eyes fluttered, and she reached an arm around Laurie’s neck. “Sleep with me, Mommy.”
Laurie knelt and laid her head on Maddie’s chest.
“All the way.” Maddie shifted over.
Laurie climbed into the bed beside her, as Maddie snuggled close. She lifted the squirrel that had come loose from Maddie’s hand and brought it to her face. It smelled like Cal. She couldn’t say how, just knew that it did. She buried her face in its plush.
“Don’t cry, Mommy,” Maddie murmured, then drifted into soft breathing.
There was nothing like the smell of spring, not in the woods after a rain. The last few months had been wetter than usual, and the blooms would be profuse once they started. Cal squelched the wet leaves under his boots and watched Annie bound off after a squirrel. The critter led her on a merry chase, staying close enough to tantalize, then blithely going its own way. Annie returned frustrated and panting.
Cal laughed and reassured her with his hands. “Maybe next time, girl.” He breathed the March air deeply into his lungs. There was still a twinge sometimes when he fully expanded his diaphragm, but it was good to breathe without having to guard himself. Cal bent and picked up a long, straight branch, stabbing it into the earth as he walked.
The new buds gave the woods a hazy green hue that the evening light played on through the shadows. It was the kind of beauty that choked you up if you weren’t ready for it. It still got to him sometimes.
Annie bounded off again. She obviously hadn’t taken her defeat too badly. There were more squirrels, more opportunities. More roads not taken. Cal caught that thought and held it, though it brought an all-too-familiar pang.
Pastor Lucas had spoken on the aftereffects of forgiven sin. Forgiveness didn’t negate the effects of wrong actions. There was still a price to pay. Cal had made love to Laurie when she wasn’t his by covenant. He hadn’t known it was wrong when it felt so right. But his ignorance hadn’t changed God’s immutable law. He’d taken what didn’t belong to him, ruined her virtue, and hurt her in a way he only now understood.
Maybe that was why he’d never have her again. He had stood at the fork and taken the wrong road. What if he’d taken the other?
Cal stopped and eyed the gnarled feet of a granddaddy oak, then perched on one woody knee. He leaned his head back against the trunk and watched the night steal into the woods. The sun had departed, but the aura of it still remained, leaving streaks of fire across the sky, fading from gold to gray. Twilight.
One star winked at him overhead. Not a star really; it was Venus. Annie came back and lay panting at his feet, turning her head occasionally to follow a sound, then licking her chops and settling in again. He reached down and stroked her ears. If this was all he ever had, he’d be grateful.
Annie whined softly and licked his hand.
“I know. You want your supper.” He stood and headed back with Annie making circles around him.
For some reason, he pictured Laurie, stooping down and fondling the dog’s head. “So this is Annie. Why would anyone dump such a nice dog?” And his smart-mouth reply: “I don’t know, but she keeps my bed warm at night.” “That’s right, Annie.” He stooped and fondled her head. “Guess dog is man’s best friend.”
She bounded ahead and returned, faithful in every part of her nature. They reached the house, and he scooped the daily paper from the stoop where it had lain all day, then climbed the stairs. He could smell the new coat of beige paint he and Ray had given the place. That had been an adventure he wouldn’t repeat soon. Ray meant well, but don’t ask him to hold your ladder.
He went inside and tossed the paper on the table, filled Annie’s bowl, and changed her water. Then he sat. He should eat something, too, but some nights it just wasn’t worth the trouble. He opened the paper and perused the pages.
He was on his forty-eight hours off after two twenty-four hour shifts on the line. He made sure his other job description didn’t keep him from active duty as often as Frank allowed. To accommodate the community service hours ordered by the court, he volunteered for small “rescue missions” with the Chr istian Fellowship Church Brother Lucas pastored. Through the winter, he’d delivered meals or groceries to shut-ins, mainly elderly folk who couldn’t go out in the cold on bad roads. He’d done whatever odd-jobs they had for him.
Now with spring on the way, he still made the rounds. They needed conversation and attention as much as any errand he might run. Missie Jones always had something. She’d been crankier than Mildred the first time he brought her a meal, even accused him of conniving to get inside her home and steal her china. Now she had tea or lemonade waiting in the pitcher and a dozen little things she couldn’t quite manage on her own.
Cal looked up from the paper and smiled. Missie was a little wasp of a woman with a terrier temper, but he’d won her heart somehow. Then there was Douglas Walberg, a stately gent who hated the fact that his arthritic body would not allow him to care for himself entirely. Cal was careful never to overstep what Douglas actually could do.
That went for Donny too. Highly functional Down’s syndrome meant Donny just needed checking on. Cal had quietly taken care of a few potentially dangerous situations in Donny’s trailer, but mostly just befriended him. Donny smiled more than anyone, and wouldn’t you know, his grin was as contagious as Reggie’s. Cal was a sap.
Annie finished her meal and lay down at his feet. He kicked off his shoe and stroked her with his foot as he flipped a page of the paper. Maybe he’d write a new skit. Maybe not. These days he gave himself permission to do nothing. He turned to the classifieds, saw Ray’s ad for odd-jobs right there, top billing. Good for Ray.
He turned the page again, and there she was. Laurie’s face, radiant and lovely, heartbreakingly so. He felt it deep inside, just looking at her in ink on newsprint. Reluctantly, he took his eyes from the photo and read the caption. Announcing the engagement of Laurie Sutton Prelane, daughter of Marjorie Welks Sutton and Leonard Sutton, deceased …
Engagement. Cal’s throat tightened as he scanned the words. Engaged to Stuart Frederick Prelane, Jr; son of Wanda Prelane and former-California senator and business mogul Stuart Prelane, Sr. Nuptials are set for …
He expelled his breath with a sharp laugh that actually hurt. Brian’s brother. Did it never end? He dropped his face into his hand, fighting to find the gratefulness he’d known in the woods, the acceptance of God’s will. He looked again at Laurie’s picture. At least he knew now that road would never be taken. He snatched up his jacket and headed back out to the woods.
Laurie hadn’t expected Stuart. She had the table set with paper wrappers from the McDonald’s burgers and plastic packages of ketchup beside the fries. Luke was sucking noisily on his soda when she went to open the door.
“Hi.” Stuart handed her a single rose.
“Stuart, I … did we have something I forgot?”
“No. Thought I’d surprise you.” Something spontaneous from Stuart Prelane?
She touched the rose to her nose, breathing lightly, and forcing a quick image of peach roses and
baby’s breath from her mind. “We were just having dinner.”
He glanced past her to the dining room, partly visible from the entry.
“We’re in the kitchen, the kids and me—having McDonald’s. If I’d known you were coming,” she sent him an impish smile, “I’d have ordered you a Big Mac.”
His smile was passive and indulgent. “No thanks.” He took her into his arms. “I thought I’d steal you away to the Douglas party.” As in Michael Douglas. Malibu Colony.
“Oh.” She’d known Stuart’s theater work and political contacts had opened doors to Hollywood’s activists and that he’d developed relationships with actors, writers, and producers. But she hadn’t realized … Brian had mingled with the big names in sports, but to walk into a room filled with faces she’d seen larger than life on the screen … And here he was asking her along.
But she had two eager children waiting for her at the table, and a burger—no ketchup, extra pickles—on her own paper wrapper. They hadn’t had dinner together in too long, thus the splurge to McDonald’s. “Well, come in.”
He cocked his head. “Am I interrupting?”
“Of course not.”
“Then …” He lowered his eyes to her lips.
She reached up and kissed him. People Magazine had done an article on the men women most wanted to kiss. Stuart had been among them.
“What about my offer?”
She settled back and looked toward the kitchen. “The children …”
“Isn’t Gail here?”
“Yes, but …”
He pulled her back to his chest, caressed her hair. “Is it too much to take my fiancée to a great party unexpectedly?”
She smiled. “No. I had just planned on an evening with the kids. I’ve been so busy. Why don’t we … I could make you a sandwich?”
“Now that’s exciting.”
She couldn’t tell by his smile if he were irked or not, but he motioned her on. As she led him into the kitchen, she hoped the children would behave. Lately Luke had been acting out in small but annoying ways. And Maddie was not her best in the evening, even with McDonald’s.
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