by Robyn Carr
He reached over and gave her chair a tug, pulling her closer to him. “Come here,” he said. “Tell me what hurts so much,” he asked softly.
“God,” she said. “You think I didn’t want us to live happily ever after? You think I wanted to have an abortion? I couldn’t keep spending Sunday at the farm in my best clothes, my best, the clothes that all the girls on campus envy, only to have your mother and family speak Spanish or whatever that is in the kitchen and laugh, your brothers and their wives shake their heads like I was some stupid child, to have you put me in a fireman’s carry to get me across the barnyard...” She sniffed and wiped at her tears. “I thought maybe I’d be able to figure it out someday, that maybe it would grow on me and I’d start to enjoy the same things, though it wasn’t looking good for that. And then what happens? Married less than a year and I get pregnant!”
He felt his mouth go dry. “You couldn’t talk to me?” he asked.
She laughed through her tears. “Matt, you always said, ‘okay, fine.’ Then you did what you wanted. I said those family dinners were awful for me and you said, fine, we won’t do so many. And we went just as often. I said I didn’t want to be a farm wife and you said, fine, you don’t have to be—but you were at the farm twelve hours a day, sometimes seven days a week. And if you had a day off, which you hardly ever did, we never did what I wanted to do.”
“Never?” he asked.
“Hardly,” she said. “But that’s not the point. I couldn’t talk to you because I already knew what you’d say. You’d say, that’s great! And tell your family and everyone and then disappear into the trees again. And I’d be alone. Then I’d be alone with a child I wasn’t ready to have. I knew eventually you’d get me on this damn farm! Turn me into a drudge.”
“Wait,” he said. “George’s wife isn’t a farm wife—she’s a physical therapist and has a career.”
“And she wasn’t at all the family dinners, either. She was busy. She made her own life, but George stayed on the farm. I wasn’t sure I could do what Lori did— Lori’s so smart and independent and no one ever rolled their eyes at her.” She wiped her cheeks. “But I loved you. So much.”
He smiled sympathetically. He was guilty as charged. He had ignored her complaints and hoped she’d get over them. He’d married a prissy model and his mother had thought he’d lost his mind. He kept bringing her back to the farm even though she didn’t like the landscape, the people or the food. The truth was—he didn’t want to go dancing. He didn’t give a shit about brunch at the Monaco and thought modeling was shallow and a waste of time.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I wasn’t a very good husband.”
“But...did you ever love me?” she asked.
“Oh-ho,” he said, laughing. “I loved you like a freight train! You knocked me out. And I didn’t want you to be any different, either. I wanted you to be just exactly the way you are. But I think you’re right about me—my expectations were unfair. You couldn’t be the way you are with me or with my family. I’m sorry. I thought I was ready to be a good husband. And maybe you thought so, too.”
“Are you ready now?” she asked. “Because if you’re ready now...”
“Natalie, we made a mistake. We had some good chemistry but that was the beginning and end of it. Everything else we faced as a couple? We couldn’t handle it. We were too different. We’ll always be too different.”
“But now that we know...”
“Now that we know, we have a chance to be smarter the next time around, but I’m afraid not with each other. I’m in love with someone else now.” He gestured over his shoulder. “See this RV? I think we’re going to live in it while I build a house right over there. An RV, just like all those gypsies in the Lacoumette family.” He shook his head. “You don’t want me or my life. And, for what it’s worth, I still think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. But that won’t make it work.”
“What about her?” she asked. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She’s beautiful,” he said. Beautiful inside and out. “You have nothing in common with her, though. I’m not going to keep marrying beautiful women until I find one who does things my way. This woman I’m going to marry—she loves me and my life.” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, Natalie. It wasn’t all your fault it didn’t work. You picked the wrong guy.”
“I loved you,” she said with a hiccup.
“I loved you. We have to move on. You’re going to find the right guy.” He grinned at her. “And have brunch at the Monaco every Sunday!”
“I can’t move on until you forgive me. I didn’t do it to hurt you, I swear to God. I did it to save myself.”
Despite all his effort, he felt that ache in his throat that signaled the threat of choking sobs. “I know,” he said in a breath.
“Please tell me you understand.”
“I think I do,” he said. And then he borrowed Ginger’s words. “I think I see how I was complicit. I do forgive you. Can you forgive me? I guess I wasn’t easy.”
“Oh, yes, I forgive you, of course.” She wiped at her eyes. “If we could run away somewhere, away from farms and modeling jobs and everything, we could be happy, I know we could.”
He shook his head. “Nah, it wouldn’t work. Neither one of us should try to be someone else.”
“I guess that’s right,” she said. “Will we be friends?” she asked.
He smiled. “What would we do as friends, Natalie? Maybe go out dancing some night?” He shook his head. “Tell you what, kiddo. I’ll be in the biology department now and then. If the coffeepot is on, we’ll visit for a few minutes. Catch up. But you don’t have to invite me to your wedding.”
“Because you’re not inviting me to yours,” she said. It was not a question.
“I don’t think we’re inviting anyone,” he said with a laugh. “We’ve both had first marriages that didn’t work very well. It’ll be small and efficient. Then, with luck and experience, we’ll work on what it means to be partners. But you? You’ll be fine. You’ll find the kind of guy exactly right for the kind of girl you are.”
“So you really forgive me?”
“Sure. Yes. Doesn’t mean I’m not sad about it, but I share responsibility. We married the wrong people, Natalie.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. At least you’re not threatening to call the police or anything.”
He laughed at her. “I was still mad. I’m not mad anymore.”
She put a hand on his chest. “I wish we had a second chance,” she whispered.
She really was a sweet girl. So pretty. He kissed her forehead. “No, you don’t. Go on now. Start over. You deserve something that really works for you.”
She smiled. She stood and walked away alone.
Matt sat in the canvas chair for a long time. He heard her car start. A minute or two later he saw her white BMW turn at the road. He sat another minute. Then he folded the canvas chairs, attached them to the storage device that slid neatly under the RV and went inside.
He hoped Ginger would like this RV. The living room was comfortable with a soft leather sectional and recliner. The kitchen was compact but completely functional, the bathroom large, the master bedroom with queen-size bed was spacious. This one had a deep closet rather than narrow wall units. He wanted her to be okay with this, he really did. But if she didn’t love it he would find whatever it took because this time he was going to listen.
He sat down on the sofa and leaned back. They never would have made it, he and Natalie. Now, a couple of years later and a little wiser, he wondered how he ever thought they could. After all this time blaming Natalie, he wondered if the whole thing had been his fault.
But there had been a child. Maybe it had been a little girl with Natalie’s puffy, pouty lips and large eyes who would beg him to read one more story. Or a son who would ride on his shoulders and try to smuggle newborn lambs out of the lambing pens. A child of his own, a child who’d love him no matter how narrow-minded
or difficult he was, just the way he loved Paco.
He felt the tears well up. Then he felt the waterworks turn on, a gulley washer, flowing down his cheeks. His nose followed suit and he wiped a shirtsleeve across it several times. All illusions about his relationship with Natalie were gone.
But there’d been a baby. A child of his own.
And for the first time since it had happened, Matt grieved.
Twenty
It was mid-August, school was starting in a couple of weeks and the night air had already chilled in Thunder Point. The flower shop was cool and Ginger wore a sweater. Grace had gone with Troy for some lunch. Soon Troy would be teaching again and his days would be spent at the high school.
Her cell phone rang. She looked at the display and saw it was Matt. She smiled broadly as she answered. “Well now, I hardly ever hear from you at this time of day!”
“I wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for being the wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive woman you are.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. Are you coming down with a cold?”
“No, just a little sinus thing, I guess. Ginger, you were right. I had a conversation with Natalie. She heard I was getting married and she came to the farm. I...uh...made sure she would hear the news. I phoned the head of the biology department and told him I was getting married. I thought it might get her attention.”
Ginger was quiet for a moment. “And? Is she all right? Are you?”
“I made some terrible mistakes, I think. I know I did. I thought the life I chose for myself should have nothing to do with her. I never really listened to her. I treated her like a malcontent. A bitchy wife. It was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. She was driven to such desperate measures.”
“Oh, Matt...”
“I was so busy being angry I never tried to understand what really went wrong. I swear to God, I won’t let that happen to us, Ginger.”
“You must be devastated,” she said.
“She wanted another chance. Can you even imagine what a mistake that would be?”
“I know,” she said softly. And she did know. It had been the same with Mick. If she had never wanted a traditional marriage and family, they could have been happy together for a long time. Of course, Mick needed someone who could be happy helping him achieve success in the music industry and there weren’t many women out there who could sacrifice all their own desires for someone else’s. How was that any different from women who married doctors or businessmen who single-mindedly concentrated on their own success and ignored their families? “I guess no one needs a marriage that leaves them lonely.”
“Lonely and disappointed,” Matt said. “No matter how many times she told me she just couldn’t be happy married to a farm, I didn’t listen to her.”
“Farmer,” Ginger said. “You mean, married to a farmer.”
“No, I meant farm. She needed my commitment and attention. I gave it to the farm instead. And then...and then there was a child who was lost.” His voice became thick again. “I think I would have liked being a father.”
It wasn’t some sinus thing, she realized. He was crying. Grieving. He tried to mask it but the revelation had taken an emotional toll. He regretted his mistakes in the marriage but he grieved the loss of his child. If she knew anything about Matt, and she thought she knew him pretty well, he hadn’t allowed himself to grieve before now.
“You will be a father,” she said. “You’ll be a wonderful father.”
“I think you knew a few things I never would have guessed,” he said. “I needed to face that loss. I was doing it alone and it just wasn’t working. I’ve never told anyone but you about that loss. I thought it just pissed me off. I didn’t know how deep it cut,” he said softly. His voice cracked.
“Where are you, Matt?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m alone. Of course. Hiding out in the little place I rented for us. Trying to get my shit together before anyone catches on that underneath it all, I’m just a regular human being.”
She let out a little laugh but there were tears on her cheeks. “A very remarkable human being,” she said. “That must have been so hard to do. I love you.”
“I wish you were here,” he said. “I’d hold on to you. You’re the ballast in my life.”
“Did you tell her she was forgiven?” Ginger asked.
“Yes, and I meant it. And I said I was sorry. And I meant that, too, because my God, what if I drove her to it? And just like you said would happen, I feel a little bit lighter. That was a load I didn’t need.”
And it opened the door to his grief, which was real and powerful, she thought. Holding that back must have been so tiring. Another heavy load that he didn’t need.
“Natalie probably did the best she could,” Matt said. “I’m not sure I did my best but we’ll never know...”
“Matt, we all do the best we can at the time. I know you—you’ve never in your life set out to do your worst.”
“Well, you might be wrong about that,” he said. “When I found out about the abortion I didn’t want anything but to punish her. I didn’t listen to her, comfort her, try to understand her or forgive her. I wanted to crush her.”
“And now you’ve both made amends,” Ginger said. “You were kind. You can let go of her and the anger now. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Did you, Ginger? Let go of the anger with Mick?”
“Sure,” she said. Then she gave a little laugh. “Mick is such a comical, one-dimensional character that complete annoyance with his shallowness hangs on, but mostly I feel sorry for him. He’s missing out on a lot.”
“We’re not going to do that—miss a lot,” he said. “I think we have an excellent shot at being ridiculously happy.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I miss you.”
“I’ll be there Saturday. I might even drive up tomorrow night after the shop closes, if that’s all right.”
“Damn harvest,” he muttered. “If it weren’t for that, I’d take a leave of absence.” He sighed. “I’m going to stick my head under the hose, shake this off and go check my pears.”
She laughed. “Call me later. We can whisper in each other’s ears until we fall asleep.”
When they disconnected and she had slipped the phone in her pocket, she put her head down on the worktable and cried. Matt was such a big, strong man’s man it was heartbreaking to think of him crying over the loss of his baby. But it took a big man to admit to real emotions. She wanted to hold him, rock him in her arms, cover his bristly cheeks with kisses, close his eyes and hold him safe against her breast.
Her tears came from the knowledge that they could move on now. They’d really dealt with the past and could forge a future cast in love, trust and hope.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Grace said, coming into the workroom. Troy stood behind her.
Ginger lifted her head. “How did you get in without ringing the bell?”
“I think it tinkled, Ginger,” Grace said. “You’re crying your little eyes out! What’s the matter?”
“Oh, dear. Listen, may I have a few minutes to collect myself? Then I can tell you all about it. It’s not bad, really. I just need...”
“Sure,” Grace said. “I’ll be right here.”
Ginger made an attempt at a smile and fled up the back stairs to that little loft she’d come to love. She washed her face, patted it dry and went back into the tiny living room.
Where she nearly ran into Grace.
“You should lock the door if you want to be alone,” Grace said.
“Oh, man, what are you doing?”
“Butting in,” Grace said. “Look, sometimes we need to cry alone, sometimes we need a good friend to bear witness. Can you talk about it?”
Ginger sank onto the sofa. “It’s really not as dramatic as it looks. I somehow convinced Matt he had to make peace with his ex-wife before we could move on together. It was a little more emotional for him than he expected but he
told me he’s glad he did it. In fact, he thanked me for pushing him to do that.” She shook her head. “Grace, he was so angry and from what Peyton has told me, Matt’s not like that. And I know, having been divorced after a short and unhappy marriage, how feeling like a failure can just piss you off. I wanted Matt to be free of that before we try to make our way together. I just miss him. And God, how lovely for him to say he feels so much better and it was thanks to me. That’s all. I got a little sentimental and weepy.” She gave a helpless shrug. “I’ve never been with a man who said I made his life better.”
Grace smiled. “I’m with one. It’s very nice.”
“I know. Troy is perfect for you. He’s wonderful.”
“Why are you here?” Grace asked.
“Here?” Ginger repeated. “I just thought I’d wash my face and—”
“No, Ginger. Here in Thunder Point. Pack a bag. Drive north.” She looked at her watch. “You’ll get there before dinner. You can watch the sunset together tonight. You can hold on to each other and talk about the new life you’ll have together. Starting now.”
“Grace, I can’t leave you,” she said. “I promised! You’re pregnant and your mother is sick!”
Grace laughed. “Oh, I’m going to have to replace you so I hope it works out for you on Matt’s big old farm because if it doesn’t, I might not have a job for you!” She pulled Ginger’s hands into hers. “Listen, my friend, you stepped into my shop and made it possible for me to finish building a house, get my mother transplanted, get her fixed up with a nurse she adores, helped me get married and move! I even made a trip to San Francisco to do a little work on managing that cumbersome estate while you held down the fort for me and even though you were paid a little, you did it all out of the generosity of that great big heart of yours. Now, don’t waste any more time. Pack a bag. Quickly. You can come back next week to get the rest of your things.”
“How can I leave you that fast?” she whispered. “What if you need me?”