Seasons of Her Life

by Fern Michaels

  She stared at her father with wide, adoring eyes. “I could eat some bacon, and if we’re having dessert, I think I have enough room for that.”

  “Okay, let’s go for it. On the count of three, fall in and hut to.”

  His father was neat, Andy thought as he slopped the eggs and bits of shells into the mixing bowl. Mom was right. If you tell the truth, no one is going to punish you. Jeez, he wished she’d hurry and get home. “When’s Mom coming home, Dad?”

  “Sometime tonight. You’ll probably be asleep. She’ll be here to cook your breakfast.”

  “I hope it isn’t eggs,” Andy muttered. Andrew laughed uproariously, nudging Martha and winking at her.

  “Oh, Daddy, I love you,” Martha said, throwing her arms around her father’s waist.

  Andy looked at his sister and father, who was still in uniform. Martha’s hands were greasy from the bacon. He was aware suddenly that the moment was too quiet after Martha’s exuberant outburst. Her father had not answered. “Hey, you jerk, I love you. Do you love me?” Andy demanded, poking the egg-dripping fork he’d been beating the eggs with at his sister.

  Andrew stared at the little boy in a way Andy wasn’t used to. It was a nice stare.

  “Hey, none of that name-calling stuff around here. Your sister is your sister, not a jerk. I love you guys. I love you, Martha, and I love you, Andy. I guess I’m supposed to say that more often, but I thought you both knew. I guess I’m not real good at this father business. I’ll try to do better, how’s that?”

  “Sure, Dad,” Andy mumbled. Jeez, he was hungry. All this talk about being a father. For crying out loud, his dad was the same as Billy’s dad, and he didn’t go around promising to be a better dad. He didn’t have to do that. He was already a good dad. Who cared anyway? His father never kept his promises. Like the time he said he’d be home to go to his soccer game and they waited so long for him to get home from work he’d missed half the game. Martha believed him, he could tell. Girls were so dam dumb. But she was happy. Her eyes were all sparkly and she looked so sappy, he wanted to swat her.

  Andrew twirled the bottle of Schlitz beer between his hands. He’d been nursing it for the past three hours, and it was warm and flat now. He could get a fresh one from the fridge, but he felt too lazy to get up. It would be just his luck to be in the kitchen when Ruby pulled into the carport. If he stayed where he was, he’d at least have surprise on his side. She wouldn’t expect him to be up, and that would give him an advantage. He was going to need every trick in his bag to get Ruby to do what he wanted. Getting on the good side of the kids had been the first step up the ladder. He knew Martha was still awake, waiting for her mother. She’d gone to the bathroom three times in the past two hours, but that was better than her wetting the bed.

  The pounding at the base of his skull was a trip-hammer gone berserk. He needed a drink to make it stop. It was starting to worry him that alcohol instead of aspirin cured his headaches. His mind played around with the word alcoholic. He rejected the word. He hadn’t had a real drink for four days. One or two beers a day didn’t make him anything but what he was—a marine. Marines weren’t alcoholics. The Corps wouldn’t tolerate it.

  He leaned back against the sofa cushions. He was uptight and had been in this condition for the past week. It began the day he had heard that old man Frankel wasn’t going to get his third star. The rumor mill said he wasn’t considered lieutenant-general material and that he was too old. That was bad enough, but when he heard a second rumor in the latrine, he’d all but puked his guts out. He would be under a new commanding officer, but then, not so new, as he’d served under him once before. And this commanding officer was headed for Vietnam. There was no way in hell he was going to another stinking, rotten Asian pesthole. He’d kissed too much ass along the way for that shit. What the hell good was having a wife with connections if you didn’t use them?

  Ruby was on a first-name basis with Arlene Frankel. If she cozied up to her a little more and had her put in a word or two to the general, and if she called the Querys and did the same thing, he might get off the hook and stay stateside. Christ, was it so much to ask? He’d sweet-talk her, promise her anything. Martha was the key. Ruby would do anything for Martha.

  He had realized that five days ago, when Ruby, pissed to the teeth, had sailed out of the carport. She’d threatened to leave him, and Ruby, he knew, never made idle threats. A warning bell sounded in his head. He’d pushed her too far. He’d told himself that night to fall back and regroup, and that’s exactly what he’d done. Yes, Martha was the key.

  It was five minutes to midnight when Ruby arrived. A lamp burned in the living room, but the kitchen was dark.

  Obviously, everyone was asleep. She felt relieved. Now she wouldn’t have to talk to Andrew. Still, if he was in bed but awake, he might be waiting for the talk she said they would have on her return. She was tired now, but not the same kind of tired she was when she had arrived in Washington. Then she’d been tired and worried.

  A hot shower was going to feel good, but first she had to check on the kids. God, she’d missed them. A peek, that’s all.

  Ruby was halfway down the hall when she heard her husband call her name from the living room. So he had waited up. She squared her shoulders. Now was as good a time as any to talk. Postponing would only make her more miserable. She’d never been one to let anything simmer if she could bring it to a boil. She walked back to the living room.

  “Would it be too much trouble to ask you to make me a cup of tea?”

  “Be glad to. Do you want anything to eat?”

  She did, but Andrew’s efforts in the kitchen left too much to be desired. “Maybe a cookie,” she called over her shoulder.

  Andy was sound asleep, sprawled across the bed, his pajama legs hiked up above his knees. She pulled up the sheet. He didn’t stir when she kissed him on the cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

  Martha was sleepy but awake. “Mom, oh, Mom, I’d glad you’re home. Wait till you hear.” She babbled on and on until Ruby thought she would scream. The smile she was offering her daughter was sickly at best. “He means it, doesn’t he, Mom? He was so nice. He kissed me and hugged me and he apologized. Isn’t it just the greatest thing? I knew Dad loved me! He said he has a hard time saying it, but we should know because he’s our father. He’s really going to try harder. That means he’s going to be better and nicer to you, too, isn’t that right?” Ruby nodded, she didn’t know what else to do. “I think this is the best day of my life, Mom. It was better than two Christmases and Easter, too. Nothing will go wrong, will it?”

  “No, honey, it’s time for sleep, it’s late. Tomorrow is a schoolday. We’ll talk about it over breakfast.”

  “Mom, don’t make eggs, okay? Make oatmeal. Andy wants farina. I can eat farina, too. No toast, either,” Martha said, snuggling under the sheet, both arms wrapped around her pillow. “Dad tucked me in and kissed me good night. You wait and see, I just know I’m not going to wet the bed tonight. I know it.”

  “I know it, too, sweetie.”

  Ruby’s shoulders slumped. Her feet dragged on the way down the hall to where her husband was waiting for her. It was magic as far as Martha was concerned. Ruby had never seen Martha this happy, but she suspected she would pay for her child’s happiness. She wondered what it was going to cost.

  “Hi, honey, how was the trip? You look tired,” Andrew said quietly, handing her the cup of tea. “This will fix you right up. Sorry there are no cookies, the kids ate them all.”

  “I am tired and the trip was okay. I hope you managed without me,” she said wearily.

  “Hey, we had a ball. I don’t think the kids are going to want eggs for a while, but no one starved. I think you taking that trip was the best thing you could have done. Martha and I really got to know one another. She’s a great kid. I’m going to let up on her. Andy, too. I’ll even bet you fifty cents she stops wetting the bed,” he said playfully. “You’re much too protective of them, Ruby.
I’ll make a deal with you. You let up and I’ll back off. Is it a deal?” Andrew nuzzled his wife’s neck. “What do you say?”

  “I’ll try. You haven’t exactly lived up to your word of late, Andrew. How do I know you’ll . . . you’ll be decent to Martha?”

  Andrew straightened up. “I resent what you just said. I have never been anything but decent to that kid. Strict, yes. Children need discipline. You coddle them too much. How in the hell do you expect them to grow up to be independent?”

  Ruby cringed. “What about love, Andrew? When was the last time, except for these past few days, you were within a foot of your daughter? Never, that’s when. What is it you want, Andrew? I know there’s more, so you might as well tell me now. Let’s get it all out in the open before you break Martha’s heart.”

  Andrew’s voice was harsh. He hated it when Ruby nailed him to the wall. Damn her anyway. “Rumor has it that Frankel is going to be passed over, and if that happens, I don’t get promoted. It also means I’ll get another commanding officer, namely, my old one, who is a real pain in the ass, among other things. He likes young girls, Ruby. Real young ones, like Martha. I can’t work under Lackland again. If I do, I’ll end up killing the son of a bitch. What this means to you is that I want you to go to the general’s wife and plead my case and then hit on the Querys. I could do it myself, but if you do it, it will be better. They like and respect you. You’re personal friends. He still has pull and clout. If you don’t I’ll have to go to Vietnam with that bastard. Remember what it was like when I was in Korea, and all the shit that went wrong for you because I wasn’t here? You have two kids now. It won’t be any easier.”

  “Little girls like Martha?” Ruby whispered. “Why didn’t you turn him in? What kind of man are you? You knew . . . know . . . and aren’t doing anything about it? Then I will,” she said, jerking free of Andrew’s pleading hand.

  “I’ll take care of him; don’t you worry about it,” Andrew said in a panic. “Don’t even think about sticking your nose into it like you did with Hugo and Dixie. That, Ruby, whether you know it or not, was why I had to go to that rat hole Korea.” There was edginess, a wariness in Andrew’s voice she’d never heard before. Everything he said was untrue, and it sounded untrue. She felt herself stiffen.

  “I had nothing to do with Hugo and Dixie. You know it, Andrew. What you just told me is so low, so ... so unbelievable, I cannot just sit still and do nothing.”

  “I said I’d handle it, Ruby, and I will.” There was such desperation in her husband’s voice, Ruby knew she wasn’t getting all the facts. “I want you to talk to the general’s wife and the Querys. Will you do it?”

  “I can’t. Mrs. Frankel told all of us we were never, ever to ask her to intercede with her husband concerning our husbands. Never, ever. She said if we did, it would be a black mark on our husbands’ records. Be thankful he did what he did for you, Andrew. The answer is no. As for the Querys, the admiral is in the hospital. He’s very ill, and I refuse to bother him with your problems. Do your own dirty work,” Ruby said angrily.

  “You really want me to go to Vietnam with that pervert, is that it?” Andrew shouted.

  “No, I don’t want that. Go to his commanding officer and tell him what you told me. If this Corps is as wonderful as you seem to think it is, they’ll handle it quietly and he’s out.”

  Andrew’s stomach scrunched into a tight ball. A drink would unknot it. Ruby could unknot it, too, if she’d just go along with him. “I don’t stand a chance if you don’t help me, and you know it. You have to, Ruby. That’s a goddamn order, and I expect you to obey it!” He let his eyes slowly circle the room and zero in on Martha’s bedroom door.

  “You louse, you’d turn on your own daughter! I knew it was too good to be true. It was all a game to you. Well, you know what, Andrew? You’re going to play alone, because I don’t like your rules. I’ve had enough. I’m leaving.”

  “You try it, and you’ll never see those kids again. I’ll tell everyone you’re an unfit mother—that you sleep around. There’s a hundred guys on this base who will lie for five bucks. I made a deal with you—I give you something and you give me something. That’s the way it works.”

  “You’re sick, Andrew. And you’re rotten. How could I have been such a fool to believe you were—”

  “—a nice guy? I am. Ask anyone.”

  “Who? Your cronies? Maybe I should ask their wives.”

  “Only glowing testimonials.” Andrew grinned.

  Ruby surrendered. There was nothing else to do. She knew her husband meant every word he said.

  For three days Ruby tried to reach Arlene Frankel but was told by one of her stewards that she was out of town. Ruby thanked God on an hourly basis. The phone went unanswered at the Query house in Chapel Hill. She refused to call the local hospital, where the admiral was recuperating.

  While Ruby tried to make her calls, Andrew was upholding his end of the agreement by watching Martha roller-skate and ride her new bike, a special present he’d bought her for not wetting the bed for four days in a row. He played Monopoly with both her and Andy. Martha blossomed, while Andy went about his business, sneaking glances at his mother when he thought she wasn’t looking. He was full of suspicion where his father was concerned. At night, when he buried his head in his pillow, he muttered, “I just know something awful is going to happen.”

  On the fourth day Andrew’s patience with Ruby ran out. “You’re stalling. I’m going to stand right here while you call.” The response was the same. Andrew stalked out of the room. Ruby heaved a sigh of relief.

  On the sixth day Ruby came to the conclusion that the general’s wife was avoiding her. She believed the same of Mrs. Query, but she didn’t tell Andrew. Because of Martha, she kept calling, praying the steward would say the same thing.

  By the end of the tenth day Andrew wasn’t fit to live with. Ruby no longer made a pretense of trying to call the admiral or the general’s wife.

  “She’s on the goddamn base, I saw her myself,” Andrew raged on the eleventh day.

  “That should tell you something,” Ruby snapped. “She knows why I’m calling, and this is her way of saying she won’t get involved. Are you trying to make fools of both of us?”

  “Call the admiral again,” he ordered. Ruby did as instructed. The phone rang twenty-three times before she hung it up. She was careful to keep her face impassive.

  The days dragged on. The new month arrived, twenty-three days from the day she’d arrived home from Washington.

  Andrew charged into the house by way of the kitchen door at midday, his face contorted in rage. “That bastard sailed right out the door, said good-bye, and had the goddamn gall to say he hopes I make rank. He didn’t say good-bye, go to hell, or drop dead. He’s out and I’m stuck. He knew I wasn’t going to make it. He didn’t go to bat for me. Why should he? He’s out. He doesn’t give a good rat’s ass about me, and his wife doesn’t give a shit about you.”

  Ruby digested the information at the sink, where she was cleaning vegetables. She was so relieved, she felt like singing. “I’m sorry, Andrew, that it didn’t work out. The admiral is too sick to help you, even if I could have gotten through.”

  “Some goddamn friends you have,” Andrew snarled.

  “I don’t judge my friends by what they can do for me. You should be thankful they ever did anything. You could still be out there, floundering, waiting years to move up in rank. Be grateful, please, for all our sakes.”

  “That’s pretty easy for you to say. You aren’t going to Vietnam. So fuck you!” Andrew roared as he stomped from the house.

  Ruby buried her face in her hands. What should she do? Did she dare take a chance and leave? Or should she wait until Andrew shipped out for Vietnam? Whatever she did, there was no telling how Andrew would retaliate.

  Overnight, the Blue house turned into a war zone. The battle lines were drawn, and Andrew was the enemy. Ruby viewed herself as a field marshal who left no stone unturned to
prevent that same enemy from claiming the ultimate prize: Martha.

  Ruby knew she was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She couldn’t eat and dropped fifteen pounds from her slim frame in three weeks. Dark smudges underlined her eyes. She looked gaunt, almost skeletal. Whenever possible, she avoided looking in the mirror. Over and over, as she wrung her hands in despair, she asked herself how her life had reached this point. What had she done wrong? When had Andrew gained so much power in their marriage? When he had returned from Korea? Maybe she had overplayed her hand during the fiasco at St. Andrew’s in Hawaii. Staying in touch with her friends at the parsonage was one of her few pleasures left in life. If she had to do it over again, she’d do nothing different.

  Now all she wanted was for Andrew to be gone before he could do any more emotional damage to Martha. His port call was in less than twelve hours. If she could get through that time, she could survive.

  Ruby made the decision to absent the children by arranging a Girl Scout trip for Martha and taking Andy to a YMCA swim meet.

  It was best for everyone. Martha was wetting the bed again and spending too much time alone in her room, staring at the walls.

  She was going to try one more time to reason with her husband. She didn’t want him leaving with things so hateful between them, but until now, he’d refused to discuss anything except to repeat that she had refused him when he really needed help.

  She wished she loved Andrew, and she wished he loved her, even a little. So many years lost, she thought sadly. Maybe now was the time to see if things couldn’t be made right. They would be apart; each of them would have time to think.

  Ruby looked stunned an hour later when Andrew walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down at the table with her and cupped his hands around his mug.