I found my voice, although it sounded strangled. “Really? That’s what you have to say to me?”
After gazing at me for a long moment, she came around the end of the bar. “Why don’t we talk outside on the deck? The view’s wonderful and it’s warm today.”
I saw she was wearing worn leather sandals with her gypsy skirt—she had the smallest feet I’d ever seen. I followed her out the side door while Will hung back at the bar. I scowled at him over my shoulder and gave him a head jerk and a glare, but he stood still and simply sipped his wine.
Now he leaves me alone. Bastard.
“Have a seat.” The woman moved with surprising grace, her skirt flowing around her trim ankles as she pulled chairs out at one of the tables and extended a hand in invitation.
I sat across from her, unable to stop staring at her short, severely styled gray hair and dated wire-rimmed glasses. I’d prepared a venomous attack in the event I got to speak to Charlie’s lover, but the words had vanished. The whole scenario was so surreal I couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say.
“Doc talked about you often and showed me pictures. I knew who you were as soon as you walked in.” Emily folded her arms and rested them on the table. “How did you find me?”
Frowning, I leaned back in my chair, powerless to take in the absurdity of the situation.
I’m sitting here with my dead husband’s mistress, and she’s an old lady.
“Charlie’s email.” My words were clipped as I began to come back to myself.
“Ah.” Her dangling silver earrings tinkled when she nodded her head.
“What the hell did he see in you?” The words were out before I could stop them. I was so puzzled by her, by the thought of my Charlie with her, I couldn’t have kept from saying them if I’d tried.
She blinked and sat back, running a trembling hand through her hair. The air was crisp in spite of the sun and goose bumps chased up her arm. “I…um…”
Her discomfort sent a twinge of guilt through me. That was below the belt, but it had just slipped out. Besides, look what she’d done to me.
“How dare you?” I leaned toward the table and smacked my palm on the stone surface. “How dare you have an affair with my husband?”
“Believe me, I didn’t plan it.”
“No one ever does, do they?” My voice was icy. “Oh, I know. It just happened? You met and you couldn’t resist?”
“Something like that.” She rubbed her hands up and down her biceps, the gesture belying her calm tone. “We met at a wine tasting in the city. I was pouring at Emilio’s and he came in with a group of other doctors for dinner. We started talking and—”
“Look, I don’t need the gory details, okay?” My mind simply couldn’t comprehend the fact that she was speaking about my husband.
She stopped talking, apparently waiting for me to say something.
The only thing that came to mind was, “How long?”
“Almost sixteen years.”
“Why?” I croaked, inwardly cursing my awkwardness. She was so calm, and I felt like a dumb kid in the principal’s office.
“I was a widow with a small boy, trying to keep a family business together. I wasn’t interested in a relationship, but when I met Doc, we… we just clicked.”
My heart began to pound and my palms were sweaty on the arms of the chair. I curled my hands into fists, trying to understand what she was saying. I wanted to scream at her.
He was married! To me!
Instead I sat waiting this time. I needed to understand.
“For Doc, I think it was that, with me, he didn’t have to be… um… perfect.”
The words shook me to my core. “What?”
“In Michigan, life was a fairy tale. Beautiful wife, accomplished children, lovely home, incredibly responsible job, and a whole community of people who believed he was invincible. It was sometimes overwhelming… being Superman.” She shrugged. “Here with me, he was just Doc. He didn’t have to be wise or clever or responsible for anything at all. It was wrong and imperfect, but he needed a little imperfection in his life.”
Heat began to rise in my cheeks.
Is this woman kidding?
“That’s your story? Seriously? Life with me was too perfect, so he had to start fucking you? Unfreakin’ believable.” I snorted. “That’s pretty clever. Do you suppose he used that same line with all the others?” I threw my hands up in disgust and started to push up out of the chair. I’d heard enough.
“He wasn’t a serial cheater, Julie. There were no others.”
“Oh? Would you like to bet your winery on that?”
“In a heartbeat.” Her expression remained composed as she gazed at me. “He adored you and he cared for me. He needed you, but he also needed me.”
I sat back in the chair, watching her face, the loving light that shone in her eyes as she talked about my husband. Her teeth worried her lower lip—it was obvious she was fighting tears. With a shaky breath, she rose, hands clenched at her sides.
“Forgive him, okay? He and I had nothing to do with your marriage. I took nothing from you. He worshipped you. I was… an… oasis. Nothing more.” She swallowed hard. “If I’d pressed him to make a choice, he wouldn’t even have had to think about it. I didn’t because I was nuts about him. And I was selfish and willing to take any time I could have with him.”
“You’re wrong. You took everything from me!” I cried. “You took my life. Everything I believed was true for thirty-two years is gone now, can’t you see that? I thought we had the perfect marriage, but—”
“I’m sorry you see it that way, but that’s the rub, isn’t it? Nothing’s ever perfect. You don’t have to forgive me, but you need to forgive Charlie and move on. He’d want you to be happy, Julie. It’s over. Let it go.” She left then, simply walked away.
I sat in the warm afternoon sun for a while, trying to process what had just happened. My husband’s mistress asked me to forgive him for cheating—with her. That took class. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone dear when Charlie died, and Emily had never even had the chance to say goodbye.
What an inane path my mind was taking. Why was I feeling sorry for her? My emotions were in such a turmoil, I had no idea anymore what I was feeling. I came to the winery loaded for bear, ready to knock this cheating little bitch into the next county. But I hadn’t been prepared for this dignified woman.
When I walked back into the winery, Will was waiting, and Emily was once again behind the tasting bar. As I passed, she inclined her head ever so slightly. I nodded in return and walked right past Will and out the door. But I saw her blinking back tears as she served her customers, and my heart ached a little.
EIGHTEEN
Emily’s mournful face haunted me as we headed back to the city.
A fiery sunset painted the sky ahead gorgeous shades of red, pink, and orange as Will and I drove west out of the foothills. The day had worn me out, and I rode silently, watching the trees and rocks go by. My head lolled back against the leather seat as I struggled to keep my eyes open. With a jerk, I snapped to attention.
“We’re about two hours from the city,” Will said. “Why don’t you go ahead and shut your eyes for a while? Get some rest.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” I replied in tone sharper than I intended.
“Well then, just recline your seat a bit and get comfortable.”
As he patted my knee, I could see that he was approaching me very cautiously. I hadn’t told him anything about my encounter with Emily at Tuckaway, and he hadn’t asked.
I took his advice, pulled the lever, and let the seat back. I hadn’t been this emotionally drained since the days after Charlie’s funeral. The scene at Tuckaway replayed as an endless loop in my head, always coming back to her face, lip quivering, eyes filled with unshed tears.
Why the hell am I feeling sorry for her?
She’d tried to steal my husband. She’d cheated with him for years. Sh
e was a whore, a self-centered bitch who had no respect for marriage vows. A home wrecker—
A home wrecker?
The words echoed in my brain. My conscience nudged me.
Whose home did she wreck? And she’s no whore, you saw that immediately.
I had to admit that Emily Tucker didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d go after another woman’s husband. Any more than Charlie Miles had seemed like a man who’d be unfaithful. If anything, meeting Emily had confused me even more.
Goddamn you, Charlie. You couldn’t even screw around like a normal guy. So typical. You had to do it elegant and with someone I might’ve liked if things were different. You bastard… .
Releasing a frustrated breath, I yanked the seat lever and sat up straight again, focusing on the scenery around us.
“You okay over there?” Will took his eyes off the road long enough to give me a wary smile.
Poor guy. He’d borne the brunt of my wrath since I’d discovered Charlie’s secret, and he only wanted to help me deal with it. Wrinkling my nose, I returned the smile. “I’ve been a bitch to you lately. You’re a nice guy, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”
“What’s the old line? Love means never having to say you’re sorry?” He offered the infamous words from Love Story with a goofy grin.
Laughter bubbled up inside me, and I didn’t try to stop it. Catching his eye, I snickered, then let go.
Will cracked up too, chuckling as he drove.
Pretty soon, my sides ached and tears rolled down my face. I had no idea why I was laughing so hysterically, it wasn’t even that funny. I gulped in deep breathes trying to control it and before I knew it, the laughter turned to sobs. Suddenly I was weeping uncontrollably.
Will scanned the highway up ahead for someplace to pull over as I lost it in the seat beside him. He took the next exit and careened into a spot in the far corner of a McDonald’s parking lot.
As soon as he stopped the car, I jumped out. I didn’t get any farther than the front of the car before I doubled over. My heart hurt so bad I was certain it was literally breaking. Finally, I pulled up to a standing position and hiccupping back more tears, rubbed my wet cheeks with my palms.
He leaned against the front fender, gazing at me, his hands fisted at his sides, his expression unreadable.
I took a deep shaky breath. “Sorry.” Accepting the napkin he handed me, I blotted my eyes and face.
“No need to apologize.” He gave my shoulder an awkward pat, clearly unsure of what I wanted him to do. That uncertainty lasted all of half a second as I launched myself at him and his arms enfolded me.
“Thank you, Will.” I twined my arms around his neck.
“For what?” He tugged me close, wrapping his arms around me in the chill of the northern California dusk.
“For… being here. For always being a friend when I need one.”
“A friend?”
“You know what I mean.” Heat suffused my cheeks as I ducked my head.
“Yeah, I guess I do.” With the slightest hesitation, he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. When he lifted his head, something almost like sadness showed in his expression. He hurt for me. He really was the kindest man I’d ever known.
I pulled back to rest my head on his shoulder, and we stood together in the headlights before I drew away to peer into his face. “I need to go home.”
“Okay, we’re on our way.” One last squeeze and he released me. “It’ll be a couple of hours before we’re back at the hotel.” He cocked his head toward the restaurant. “Do you want some food before we hit the road?”
“No, I mean home. I need to go back to Willow Bay.”
I had to talk to Carrie. If anyone could make sense of the mess I’d discovered, it was my dear friend. The need for her was so urgent, I booked an early morning flight on my phone as he drove us back into San Francisco.
Will was unusually quiet on the ride home, and although we shared the big bed at the Dragonfly, we didn’t make love. I left him at the hotel for a couple of hours so I could run by the kids’ place for one last snuggle with little Eddie. When I got back, he was sound asleep. In the morning, his manner was casual and friendly—almost, but not quite, distant. There wasn’t much time to talk since we both had to be at SFO early, and this new cooler Will only added more confusion to the morass of emotions already swirling in my head. But I pinned on a smile as we drove to the airport and chatted pointlessly about the traffic and fog.
There was no passionate farewell as there had been when I’d left for San Francisco and that puzzled me, too. He was headed to the International terminal to catch a flight for Europe, and still hadn’t said a word about what might happen in the future. He didn’t even mention calling me while he was away checking out venues for Liam. When he dropped me at the Departures door, we stood on the sidewalk by my roll-on bag, silence yawning between us.
“Um, thanks, Will, for everything.” I toyed with the handle of my purse and stared at the travelers scurrying by us.
“Travel safe, Jules.” His voice was rough. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in Willow Bay.”
I couldn’t leave it there. I had to say more, even though he was parked in a loading zone and the airport police would be along soon to shoo him on his way. “I’ll be back in Chicago in a few days, maybe a week.”
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Will…”
When his eyes met mine, his discomfort was obvious. “We both have a lot of thinking to do. I’ll see ya, Jules.” With that he drew me into a quick hug and left. I had no idea when I’d see him again.
Bewildered and heart-sore, I boarded my flight, determined not to worry about Will Brody. First things first. I had to work my way through Charlie’s deception and betrayal before I could even begin to consider anyone else.
The plane circled wide over the lake before making an easy landing on the runway at Cherry Capital. Fidgeting in my seat, I reached in my pocket for my cell phone right as the flight attendant gave the all-clear to turn them on. I wanted off that plane and into the safe haven of Carrie’s friendship.
“Jules!” Carrie’s voice carried over the heads of the few travelers in front of me. I walked on tiptoe, anxious to catch a glimpse of her, and in only a few seconds, there she was, waving and smiling. Tears choked in my throat as I slowed down and swallowed hard, determined not to start blubbering all over her immediately.
“Hey.” I released the handle of my carryon to pull her into a big hug. “God almighty, I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too.” Carrie returned the embrace with fervor. “I can’t believe you didn’t give me any warning, you big dope.” She continued as we separated and headed for baggage claim. “How many bags do you have?”
“This is it.” I gazed at my old friend, who looked fantastic in snug jeans, a plum-colored turtleneck, and a leather jacket.
“But… where’s all your stuff?”
“In Chicago. I only laid over there. I’m actually coming from San Francisco. Will dropped me at SFO this morning.”
“Will?” Carrie eyed me quizzically, then grinned when I nodded. “I think we’re going to need chocolate and alcohol for this. Car’s in the garage. Come on.” With a little head jerk, she led the way, not saying any more until we’d stowed my bag in the back of her SUV and were both belted in and on the road.
“Can I stay with you?” I knew the question would surprise her since I hadn’t had a chance to tell her anything at all since Eddie’s birth except to phone that I was on my way.
“Absolutely,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation. “That’s probably better. Liam’s been stripping wallpaper in your bedroom, getting ready for the painter. He’s over there right now, vacuuming and trying to get things cleared away enough for you to settle in, but you staying with us is a much better idea. The painters can get started right away.”
Laying my head back against the headrest, I closed my eyes.
> “Hey, we’re here.” Carrie’s soft voice pulled me out of the stupor I’d fallen into as we drove from the airport to George Street.
Liam appeared on the big wraparound porch, looking tall and handsome in plaid flannel and denim. I didn’t even let my eyes go next door to my house… Charlie’s house. At the moment, I couldn’t bear the sight of it.
“Hey, Granny, congratulations. You look like a million bucks.” Liam greeted me with a hug and took my carryon, hauling it easily into the house as he followed us in.
I knew without glancing behind me that they were exchanging one of those married-people looks that said more than words, because he headed upstairs to the guest room with my suitcase while Carrie took my coat.
The scent of coffee filled the air, and when we got to the kitchen, two mugs, cream, sugar and a bottle of Jameson sat on the counter. A fire crackled on the hearth of the two-way fireplace and a new chintz overstuffed sofa crouched in front of the flames, looking cozy and inviting.
With a grin, I held my arms out as if to embrace the whole room. “You made your keeping room.” I toured quickly through the kitchen, past the tall stools at the breakfast bar and then around the sofa. Carrie had created a charming scene, with a couple of small side tables, an armchair, soft lighting, and Liam’s collection of antique toy tractors on the mantle. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
“It came out nice, although Evelyn’s grousing because I turned the breakfast nook into a sitting area and now we eat at the bar.” Carrie poured coffee into the mugs. “Every time she comes to clean, she just shakes her head and mutters under her breath.” She held the bottle of Jameson over a mug, a question in her eyes.
Just then, Liam sauntered in, hands in his pockets. “Aha, you found my treat. Pour some in for her, honey. The sun’s over the yardarm somewhere.”
My heart swelled and my eyes stung. Could there be two dearer friends in the whole world? “You guys are the best,” I managed, swallowing hard to keep the tears at bay.
By God, I’m not going to weep through the telling of this. Only the facts and without histrionics.
Sex and the Widow Miles (The Women of Willow Bay) Page 12