“Carol.” She jumped slightly. Virginia Mae was standing next to her. “Did you see the ring Kellan was wearing?” There was a faint wisp of dejection in those words.
“No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. Why?”
Virginia Mae waved a glass of ginger ale. “Oh, no reason. I just wondered. I thought perhaps you knew something . . .” Her sigh was heavy with some heartfelt disappointment only she could know and then Virginia Mae turned away. “I’m going to go find Julia. I’m a little tired, dear.”
“So how are you?” Gordon walked up on her other side, acutely aware of how pretty she looked in the simple soft yellow dress. It was cut square in the front, sleeveless, and came to mid-calf. She was a very elegant lady, he thought.
“Fine. Tired.” She smiled at him. “I can’t believe my little godbaby is now a married woman!”
“You and me both. Watching the children of friends grow up really sets the benchmarks, doesn’t it?”
“Probably for you,” she said sweetly, “but I’m not old. Not at all. I’m just beginning.”
“Carol? Can you help me just a minute?” Elizabeth called and Carol hastened over. The women talked to the caterers, trying to figure out what to do with the leftovers. Elizabeth wanted Carol to take some home with her. Then there were other things Elizabeth wanted brought into the sunroom.
As the women talked, Gordon looked over at Michael, who was talking with Gregory’s mother and holding her grandchild. Pity Kellan wouldn’t be having any children, he thought. She would make a good mother, but then again, maybe it would all work out somehow. His thoughts were aimless, enjoying the warmth of the day, seeing the brightness of the wedding still reflecting on everyone, in their eyes, their smiles.
Except when Michael got near Elizabeth. And then things seemed to go flat. It was a damn shame they couldn’t patch up things between them, he thought. He idly wondered how two people who had loved each other so much could get so unbalanced by things they couldn’t control. They needed to just tack into the wind, he suddenly thought, thinking of sailing. Choose a place and then move up to capture the wind—head straight for it, looking nowhere else but that one destination.
Carol came up and asked him to move some large plants and flowers into the house. He was glad to be doing something productive.
Finally everyone had left except Michael, Carol, and Gordon. It was harder for Elizabeth to ignore her husband, but the anger she felt toward him, her justification undergirding that anger like pillars, had not diminished. The clarity she had felt with her mother this morning did not extend to Michael. The two had nothing in common.
Michael knew he had screwed up, but he wasn’t leaving here today without trying to set things right.
“Elizabeth?” He could see the ice still in those blue eyes. Michael straightened his shoulders, determined they would talk. At least he would talk and she would listen. “Please. I need to talk to you alone. Will you come outside with me? To the patio?”
She didn’t say a word. Regal in her quiet resolve, she gripped the walker handles and walked past him. He followed her out to the patio where they sat facing each other. At first she would barely look at him.
“Elizabeth. I’m sorry about this morning. I should never have said those things. I was in shock and I didn’t mean any of it, I swear. The last thing I expected,” he said with sincere frankness, “was seeing you needing this. I know, I should have handled it better, but . . . let’s face it, I’ve gotten failing grades all the way around in dealing with this. And I’m more sorry than I can say.”
She was at least looking at him, his own eyes never wavering. God, let me get through to her. His mind was asking this as well as his heart; he was desperate for her to understand and listen.
She was still encased in rigid self-righteousness, but the way he was looking at her, the humble apology did make her feel slightly more forgiving. He was, after all, the father of her daughter, and they had shared many years that had been wonderful. She nodded slightly, letting go of some of her anger. They were still oceans apart and she knew that would never change, but . . . perhaps they could be friends.
“Elizabeth,” he said, his tone suddenly changing, “there’s something else I need to tell you.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him sharply. What else? How much more apologizing could he do?
He snatched what sounded like a guilty breath. “I have a confession to make.”
Maybe it was because her emotions had been stretched to the extremes today and she couldn’t be objective or neutral about anything. His words hit like a blow. The knowledge rushed at her like a speeding car, crashing into her. Because she knew, she knew!
He had found someone else, he wanted a divorce; that’s why he had been able to say those horrible things to her just this morning—because he already had someone to take her place. Her mouth went dry. Gone and completely forgotten were her own hateful thoughts during the wedding; now she had to endure the fact that he had found someone else and he really and truly intended to leave her.
She couldn’t stand it, it hurt too much . . . Her gaze started blurring and then she couldn’t keep them back, tears started falling in torrents.
Her hands flew to her face, even as he grabbed her and held her, trying to think of something, anything to say, but dammit, also trying to allow her to cry. The memory of what she had written in her journal about crying was vivid enough to keep him from shouting out the first thing that came to his mind. Oh, but he hated to hear her cry. He stayed firmly in control, sweat beading on his face in the effort to keep his mouth shut. He just kept rubbing her back, apologizing over and over again, until the weeping finally, thankfully, started to subside. She took the handkerchief he held out.
“Thank you,” she said in a small, watery voice.
“Are you all right?” He still had an arm around her shoulders and watched as she nodded.
“I’m sorry if I made you cry, Elizabeth. I’m so sorry, honey, about everything.” She heard the bafflement, but she wasn’t going to explain it; she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Instead she took a steadying breath, wishing she could retrieve some of this day’s anger for a shield, but she was completely vulnerable now.
“What about this confession?” she said, sitting up rigidly, forcing his arm off her.
There was no easy way to say it. “Well,” he began, almost wishing he hadn’t brought it up. She was rigid and pale, waiting for the words to come.
“I read your journals.”
She looked at him, stunned.
“My . . . journals?” What did that have to do with anything?
His eyes fell away, ashamed to admit he had invaded her privacy. “Please don’t be upset. I read them on the Sunday morning after the preliminary hearing, when Kate told me everything had gone exactly right. I was really missing you, and I didn’t understand why you were still living here and not with me. I . . . wanted to try to understand.”
He glanced up at her, too relieved she wasn’t looking angry to notice her shock.
“I read enough to realize what a jackass I’ve been. My way of handling everything . . . was wrong. I want you to know I’ve been seeing a therapist, one Gordon recommended. And it’s helped. You may not believe that after this morning’s debacle, but I’m trying. I want to be with you. I want us to try to work this out together. Please, Elizabeth. Will you give me one more chance? Will you? Please?”
He had read her journals? She shook her head slightly and then looked at him hard.
It didn’t matter that he’d read them, what touched her was that he’d done this on the very same day she had seen her one and only sun dog . . . the same day God created a moment exclusively for her.
Suddenly all the surprise and the anger evaporated as she also realized it had been the day she started praying for him. The peace of that day made the nonsense of this one slide away like running water down a drain. The bad feelings were gone, and she felt her soul blossom like the
roses on the arbor, its perfume surrounding them.
Her eyes saw his sorrow, felt the simple, humble love he was offering so honestly. In a blinding moment of clarity, she saw how responsible she had been for this morning. What if it had been her seeing him in such a situation? Wouldn’t she have been as upset for him? And how selfish she had been not to tell him, warn him. For the very first time she glimpsed their life through his eyes, and she was ashamed. He didn’t deserve this.
But he was willing to try again, because he loved her. He was trying to understand and reach out to her in a new way. Could she do the same?
They both had changed, that was true, but maybe it was high time they started changing together.
With God, all things are possible, she thought, looking at her husband, a slow smile of hope dawning until her face dazzled like the sun. He caught hold of it and blinked. His own smile was of enormous relief as he gently put an arm around his wife, slowly pulling her to him, his eyes asking permission, waiting for her decision, waiting for what she wanted and then she was moving slowly, gently, even closer.
“Gordon, look, there’s a sun dog!”
They had been out front, quietly talking, murmuring their worries about Michael and Elizabeth; the conversation suddenly stopped when Carol glanced up at the western sky.
“Sun dog?” He looked over his shoulder where she was looking.
“You remember? That sermon Father Joseph preached about the sundog moment? I don’t think Elizabeth has ever seen one, and I promised a long time ago to let her know if I saw one. I’ve got to go tell her.” She turned around toward the river side of the house but got only a few feet before Gordon’s hand stopped her. They both could see them, these two people who had seemed so at odds and worlds apart mere moments ago, were in each other’s arms, shutting out the rest of the world.
“I don’t think she’d be interested in a sun dog,” Gordon observed.
Carol nodded stiffly. She was more than a little irritated. “I must say I’m surprised. Elizabeth was so angry with him. And he was so stupid this morning . . .”
Gordon took her by the hand and led her back to the front where they could sit on a bench under one of the maples. “So tell me about the sun dogs. I vaguely remember,” he prompted.
Carol scrunched up her face in thought, trying to remember the details.
“Well, it has something to do with faith . . . but an actual sun dog is a weather sign. It’s when cirrus clouds form near the sun, and light glints off the ice and makes little rainbows.” She pointed to the one in the sky. “That means the weather is going to change, either in twenty-four or forty-eight hours, I’m not sure which.”
“So it’s about change, huh?” Gordon was still holding her hand and he could see she was a little puzzled. “I’ve been thinking all day I’m ready for a big change.”
“Oh, really?” Skepticism raised an eyebrow. “And what kind of change are you looking to make? No, let me guess.”
She pondered this seriously. “Hmm. I know! You’ll see patients Monday through Thursday and golf on Friday instead of what you do now, patients Tuesday through Friday and playing golf on Monday, right?”
Her yawn underscored the boredom in her voice, but she couldn’t hide the mischief in her eyes.
Unexpectedly, he squeezed her hand hard to get her attention.
“No. What I’m thinking about—” He paused with a lazy grin, waiting until she looked directly at him. “I’m thinking about asking you out for a date.”
Instead of mocking him with laughter, instead of acting affronted, which Gordon half expected her to do, Carol surprised him completely.
She squeezed his hand back even harder, her smile as seductive as a promise.
“What took you so long?”
A Sundog Moment Page 42