by Anne
"Don't get me wrong," Sylvia went on. "This is a tough world and I think you're doing real well for yourself. You've got more than enough around your neck to pay for a first-class flight back to Arkansas."
"I paid my own way out here and I fully intend to pay my own way hack. Now if you'll excuse me—" Sara turned to walk around the woman, needing to be alone, but Sylvia put out her hand to stop her.
"Hey, honey. Don't get your dander up.'" She lit a cigarette. "We all want to tip our hats to you."
Sara refused to show Sylvia that her words were upsetting, and just stared at her in silence.
"I mean, most of us would give a year of our lives just to get into Mike's place," Sylvia said.
"I'm sure he has parties." Sara said dryly.
"I mean like you have. A private party. A real private party."
"It's not like that at all," Sara tried to explain.
"Our reservation at the campground was cancelled and Mike just helped us out."
Sylvia stared at her thoughtfully for several moments. Then she took a drag on her cigarette and flicked the ashes into the bushes. 'So let him keep helping you for about a year, sweetheart. Then you and your kids will be on Easy Street the rest of your lives."
Sara's jaws clenched in anger. She wasn't sure what Sylvia was implying, but she didn't like the way it sounded. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
Sylvia laughed, "This is California, darling. Why do you think Mike has kept women out of his house? To be a monk? No, he Just doesn't want to get involved In a palimony suit. You got a foot in the door, babe. Don't let the bastard off the hook. Clao." She turned abruptly and left.
Sara walked slowly back inside, feeling limp and deflated. Everything was suddenly all too clear. Jt was time to leave—both the party and the city.
It wasn't anything Sylvia had said, or Lance, either. It was the whole place. This was a world that she didn't understand or belong in. But it was Mike's world. That was the real problem. That was reality. They'd each had a vacation in the other's territory. It had been fun, but now it was over. It wartime she went back where she belonged.
Mike was still nowhere to be seen, but his home was only a few blocks away. She slipped out of the house and stood on the front walk, trying to get her bearings.
"Can I get your car?" the parking valet asked.
She looked at htm. "I haven't got one. I came with Mike Taylor, but he's not ready to leave yet. I thought I'd walk back to his house."
"This late at night?" He shook his head, "I know where he lives. Come on, I'll drive you."
Sara was suddenly exhausted, and grateful for the offer. The valet pulled up in a Maserati and opened the door for her.
"Is this yours?" she asked.
He grinned. "I'm parking it for the owner."
Great, Sara thought, it was just what she needed, to be picked up for car theft. "So. are you hoping to be an actor too?" she asked.
"A director," he said. "That's where you need the real talent."
"It seems like everybody out here wants to be something other than what he is," she said quietly.
"Nothing wrong with dreaming."
"No, I guess not." Except that she had forgotten that dreams and reality didn't mix. She was awake now, though. The dream was over and reality was back in place.
Mike was tired and bored. Horowitz was one of the best producers in town and not someone to irritate, but he was not so fascinating that Mike wanted to sit and listen to him for much longer. Certainly not when Sara was out there waiting for him. He sipped at his brandy and let his mind wander.
He hoped she was enjoying herself. That Lance had looked like a creep. Probably played muscle-bound characters without a brain. He thought uncomfortably of his own role as Captain Wonder and mentally changed the subject.
They should never have come tonight, he decided. He should have gotten her all dressed up like that for a private little party, just the two of them. They could have gone somewhere quiet for dinner and maybe a little dancing, but the rest of the time could have been spent where they both wanted to be—in bed. There was a magic between them that just couldn't be denied. And it certainly beat hours of conversation with Horowitz.
What was the matter with him? He had always loved these parties, laughing and playing until all hours. It was the life he loved. How could he suddenly find it so boring and pretentious? Why did he feel he would have to choose between Sara and the life he was used to?
The thought was frightening. He'd always liked his life just the way it was. Sara and the girls were only temporary additions, just some people to distract him for a time, but not people he needed permanently in his life. Or was that the old Mike Taylor speaking? he wondered.
He shifted in his chair and glanced at his watch. Lord, it was almost three. Sara must think she'd been deserted. Career moves suddenly seemed unimportant compared to finding Sara and taking her home. There was a lull in the conversation and he jumped in.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to call it a night. Hope to see you all again soon." He was out of the library before anyone could do more than mumble a good-bye.
He had left her in the living room, but she was nowhere to be seen. There were still couples dancing and people gathered around the food tables, but no Sara. Where could she have gone? She wouldn't have left with Lance, would she?
He went out on the patio but still saw no sign of her. Damn. He should never have left her alone. Finally he wandered out front, only to learn that the parking attendant had driven her home. Double damn.
He drove home and poured himself another brandy. It was too late to go over and see her now, he decided, so he sat on his patio in the darkness, sipping his drink as he ached with wanting her.
Even if he did go see her, what would he say? He wanted to make love to her, to feel the peace he felt only in her arms. He didn't want to talk.
Words were meaningless. Anyone could write the lines and deliver them convincingly. Wasn't that what he was paid to do? But the touch of her lips spoke the truth, and her embrace was the only promise of the future he wanted to believe In.
He was afraid to look beyond today, to know that the peace he had now might not be with him always. The future and promises were things he'd carefully avoided. He had learned that over the years, from his parents, and from his life: Lean on no one, trust no one, and you won't get hurt. But had he ever been really happy until now? He slumped in the chair, exhausted body and soul, until the sun rose and he stumbled in to bed.
Eleven
Sara heard the muted sounds of conversation and forced her eyes open. It was early. Too early, considering the time she had gotten to bed. but it appeared that the girls had gotten more sleep than she had. She wearily sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through her short hair. The hurt of the past night was still with her.
I'd like to have a bed like Julie Hansen's, all ruf-fly and pink." one of the girls said.
They must still be dreaming, she thought. It must be nice to be so young and innocent and believe that dreams would come true. Suddenly she felt very old, realizing how much she had aged since yesterday, for hadn't she still been dreaming then? She got up and walked slowly toward the bathroom.
"Do you think we'll get separate rooms?" "Wouldn't that be out of this world?" She stopped walking and frowned. How could they have separate rooms? Their town house had only two bedrooms. Where were they going to put her?
"Then your snoring wouldn't keep me awake."
"I don't snore."
Instead of heading for the bathroom, Sara walked across the hall and stood In the doorway of the girls' room. They were sitting cross-legged on Kari's bed as they talked.
"Good morning," she said.
They looked up. "Hi, Mommy."
She came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "What's the big discussion about?"
They exchanged glances and then shrugged. "Nothing."
'Don't give me that, girls,"
she said, sighing. "I heard you talking and I'm confused. How are you going to have separate bedrooms unless you make me sleep in the kitchen?"
They giggled and Kari shook her head. "We don't mean now, Mom. We mean after you and Mike get married."
"After we get married?" she repeated vaguely, looking from one girl to the other. Their hopeful little faces stared back at her. Oh, no, what had she done?
She shook her head slowly, guilt robbing her of her breath momentarily. "But we aren't getting married." she told them. "Why did you think we were?"
The girls looked confused. "But we saw you kissing him," Megan said.
"Twice," Karl added.
She sighed. She should have seen this coming, She should have known how Mike's attention to her would affect the girls. Look how it had affected her. she mused. How could she have thought the girls would be immune?
"Girls, tots of people kiss. It doesn't mean they're all going to get married."
Their faces fell, and Megan's bottom lip quivered slightly. "But I thought Mike liked us."
"He does," Sara assured them. "But that still doesn't mean he wants to marry me. You're friends with the people you like. You don't marry someone unless you love them."
"We do love him," they told her. "Don't you?"
"That's not the point," she said, sidestepping their question and ignoring her own pain. "Mike was only offering to be our friend. He never asked to be more."
"Oh."
Neither of them said a word for the longest time. They just stared down at their hands. She could feel their disappointment and moved to sit between them, sharing their hurt.
"I'm really sorry, girls," she said softly. "I had no idea you thought anything like that. I would have warned you long ago if I'd known. We've had some fun and you've got some great stories to tell back home, but that's all."
"Why did he invite us here?"
"Our campground was full and it was too late to find another one." And then she'd agreed to stay longer because she hadn't wanted to leave him, she confessed silently. She had grown addicted to his touch and had convinced herself no harm would come of staying a little longer. Now she admitted her part in causing their pain. "Maybe I should have insisted that we move the next day, but I didn't want to," she told them quietly. "1 was having a good time too."
Kari sniffled loudly and Megan crawled across the bed to put her arms around her mother. Sara felt tears start in her eyes and hugged Megan back, then pulled Kari over too. Both girls were crying.
"Don't cry, girls," Sara pleaded. Her own eyes were starting to overflow and she didn't even have a free hand to wipe away the tears. "We had a good time, didn't we?"
'We thought he wanted to be our daddy," Kari said sadly.
"We thought he liked being with us."
"I'm sorry, girls," was all she could say. Her own tears were coming faster and suddenly the girls were comforting her.
"It's okay, Mommy. We don't need a daddy anyway," Megan said.
"Yeah," Kari agreed. 'He'd probably just drink beer and burp, like Kathy's daddy."
"Or write nerf checks like our other daddy."
She hugged the girls closer and tried to stop crying, but the tears just kept coming. The braver they tried to be, the more she hurt. Of course they needed a father, and she needed a husband. They were doing okay on their own, but they just weren't complete. Except for this past week, when things had been so wonderful. Wonderful, thanks to Captain Wonder. Would she ever be able to use that word without thinking of him and hurting?
She forced her tears to slow. "Maybe when we get back home we can have Uncle Joey come over more and do things with you," she suggested.
The girls shook their heads and climbed off the bed.
"It wouldn't be the same," Kari said.
"He wouldn't belong to us." Megan explained.
She nodded and watched as the girls got their clothes out of a drawer. They began to dress slowly, and Sara got to her feet. "I know what you mean," she agreed quietly. "He's nice, but he belongs to your Auntie Jane."
The girls said nothing else, so she went back into her own room. After showering quickly, she dressed. The green dress she had worn the night before hung in the closet, and she picked it up along with the jewelry and shoes. Might as well return them, she decided. The girls were watching television in the living room, and showed no interest in coming with her. It was just as well, she thought. Seeing him again would only add to their hurt. She could say everything that needed to be said, and that was only good-bye.
She heard Mike before she saw him.
"No, dammit. I told you, just coffee."
She put on a bright smile and walked through the gate. He was sitting at the table while Fred poured him a cup of coffee. "Good morning," she said. Her heart lurched painfully at the sight of him.
He glared at her and she smiled more naturally. "Too much to drink or too little sleep?" she asked.
"Neither," he snapped. "I'm getting a cold."
"Oh."
He glared again and returned to sipping his coffee.
"Some coffee, Mrs. Delaney?" Fred asked. She nodded and he poured her a cup. "Shall I fix your breakfast now?"
"No, I'll wait and eat with the girls." Once he had left the patio, she got to the reason she had come.
"I've brought back the clothes you borrowed for me," she said, draping them over the chair next to her. "You must thank whoever provided them."
The frown seemed to be a permanent feature on his face. "There's no big hurry to return them."
"No reason to keep them any longer either."
Sara suspected he had bought them for her, but decided to play along with his game. Confronting him with the truth didn't seem very important anymore.
'They looked better on you than they would on anyone else.1'
"Thank you."
His frown seemed to fade somewhat. "Maybe we could find another occasion for you to wear them."
"My first day back at school, no doubt."
That brought his frown back in full force. "I wish you'd stop talking about going back. You don't have to leave yet,"
She sighed and pushed her cup away. Her stomach was upset from tension as it was, and the coffee wasn't helping. Her hands longed to touch him, to soothe away his headache and his grumpiness, and she wasn't going to let them do either. "Yes, we do," she said. "I'm not going to let you convince me to stay any longer."
He got to his feet impatiently. "You're angry because of the party," he said. "I had no idea that I'd be gone so long. Believe me, I would rather have been with you."
"That's not it at all." She rose from her seat as she tried to make him understand. "The vacation's over. Its time we went home."
"You don't have to."
"But we want to," she insisted.
"I have an idea," he said. "We'll go out to dinner tonight. Just the two of us. We'll go someplace terrific so you can wear the dress again."
"Mike!" She pleaded for him to listen as he moved around the table toward her.
"You looked so beautiful in it last night," he said softly, "1 couldn't wait for all my friends to see you, but tonight 11 be ours." He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her face to his.
She went willingly enough into his arms, knowing this would be the last time. His lips came down on hers so softly and tenderly that she thought her heart would break. Her arms reached out to hold him, to feel his body beneath her hands once more, to memorize his taste, his scent, and his touch, so that she would have him with her forever.
She loved him so, and needed him. She could admit that to herself now. Safe in his embrace, she could begin to face the pain that she knew would come. She needed his laughter and his strength, his support and his love. Mostly she needed him to belong to her—and she knew he never would. The girls were right. Belonging made the difference. She pulled slowly away from him.
"I'm already late," he told her. "Or I'd suggest a side trip up to my room. I'll see y
ou tonight." He kissed the tip of her nose quickly, then turned toward the house.
"Good-bye, Captain Wonder," she said lightly.
He turned and grinned at her, unaware she meant what she said.
Twelve
“You girls had better go get dressed, your guests will be here soon." Sara said, chasing the girls from the balloon-festooned living room.
"Okay," Karl agreed reluctantly. "But call us if anyone comes."
Sara nodded wearily. She had been so tired the past month since they had returned from vacation. She just couldn't get Mike out of her mind. He haunted her dreams, making her afraid to sleep. He smiled back at her from T-shirts while she did the laundry. His face watched her making lunches in the mornings and his red and black costumed form decorated notebooks and pencil cases all over her classroom. He was everywhere she looked.
Today that was especially true. It was the middle of September and the girls' ninth birthday. They had chosen Captain Wonder decorations. Cups, plates, tablecloth, even the cake was Wonder-ful. The guests had been instructed to come as their favorite characters from the show and the girls had made up a whole series of Captain Wonder games.
She was not at all sure she would make it through the day.
Actually, she had been surprised at the girls' choice of a theme for their party. They had been quite bitterly angry at Mike on that endless ride home from Los Angeles, and had stayed that way for the next week. Then, though they never mentioned him to her, their anger seemed to abate. When it was time to plan the party, they'd insisted on a Captain Wonder theme and had looked forward to it with growing excitement for the past two weeks.
"Anybody come yet?" Megan asked, bursting back Into the room. Karl was right behind her. They were wearing the Indian dresses Mike had bought them. Not quite characters from the show, Sara thought, but close enough.
"Nope," she said. "You still have half an hour before anybody's due. 1 thought it would take you longer to get dressed."
Kari went to the window and peered out. Megan stood next to her, pushing aside the drapes so she could see.