“Mark’s out of town, thank God.”
“Yes.”
“That was Laura.”
Donna blushed fiercely. “She asked if I was here and you said yes?”
“I make it a point not to lie. I’d better get you back.”
“Bruce, Laura knows how I feel about you. She isn’t going to judge us.”
“You’d better hope everyone else is just as reasonable.”
He stood up and started dressing.
“What does that mean? I thought we had everything settled for now.”
“Yeah. I hope we do. I guess I’d allowed myself to forget some of the possible ramifications of letting myself have you.” The sadness in his face hurt her.
“You’re sorry about tonight.”
“Not sorry. Never sorry. Just worried, suddenly.”
“Why?”
He stood still, his shirt trailing from one hand. “I guess I don’t like thinking of what you may have to face in the next few days. Laura’s worried, too. That’s why she was looking for you. She wanted to tell you that nothing’s cooled off in Vancouver. Evan arrives on Friday—and Sara’s coming with him.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DONNA HURRIED HOME from the office after work on Friday. The feeling of dread had been building all afternoon, but dread or not, she was determined to go to the airport herself to meet her parents. Mark had offered to do it for her. Donna felt a sting of gratitude in her eyes as she thought about his kindness.
“No,” she had said. “This is my responsibility. I don’t mind, really. It’s something I have to get through.”
Mark grinned. “You mind like hell, honey. Irate parents can be pretty daunting. I have to be at the office late tonight, but I could leave in time to pick them up, buy them a drink and bring them home. It might cool them off a bit, take the edge off, kind of. Okay?”
She’d shaken her head. These were her people, irate or not. All her life with them she had been willing to take the good things they had given. Now there was a rough spot—of her own making—and she had to weather it herself.
“All right,” Mark had said. “When you stop by the house before you go, will you tell Laura I’ll be late? I’m expecting a call from Brussels. It won’t come through till about seven our time.”
Now, on her return, Donna couldn’t find Laura, and E.J. was no help.
“Well, she’s around,” he responded vaguely in response to Donna’s question about his mother’s whereabouts. He was absorbed in TV cartoons.
“But around where, E.J.?”
“Well, she didn’t go any place. That means she’s around, doesn’t it?” he asked, turning back to the set. “You didn’t notice I’m dressed up. I’m wearing my best suit. I’m going out to eat with Grandma. And I’m going to stay at her house for a few days.”
“Oh, great. That’s great, E.J.”
Donna gave up looking for Laura temporarily and dashed up to her room to change. She was about to snatch up a pair of jeans, but then she paused. No. She couldn’t wear jeans. Her parents had seen her in jeans for too many years, and would associate them with her childhood—the little girl in jeans. She carefully selected a beige skirt and blouse, then added a white sweater looped about her shoulders in case it got cool later. She’d make one last attempt to find Laura, who hadn’t been downstairs or in the garden. She rapped at the closed door of the Hunts’ room, and there were some muffled words from inside.
She opened the door a crack. “Laura? You in there?”
“Ah. Yes. Come in, Donna. Don’t turn on the light. I’ve…ah…got a headache.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Donna crept in and stood at the foot of the bed on which Laura lay huddled. The room was dark with all the draperies drawn. There was a shaky sigh from the bed.
“That’s not true, really,” Laura said in a small voice. “I’m sorry. Friends ought not to lie to each other. I’m having a bad day, and I guess I just gave up and had myself a good cry. Open the draperies will you, love? I’ve got to get presentable before Mark gets home.”
Donna went to the window. She made much of opening the drapes, explaining that Mark would be late and giving Laura time to get up and into the bathroom. Laura crying! Something was wrong. It made her feel shaken. The Hunts’ marriage had always seemed so solid. Good old Rock-of-Gibraltar Hunts. Now this!
Laura came back into the room and sat in front of her dressing table, her face shining, but her eyes red and puffy. She reached for a jar of cream.
“How come you’re dressed up? Oh, yes, you’re going to meet Sara and Evan.” She looked at Donna, her eyes wide. “It’ll be okay. Evan is making heavy father noises, but…well, you know him, he’s a pussycat. I mean, don’t worry about it. What time does their plane come in?”
“Nine-ten. Laura, at the moment my main worry is you. What’s the matter? And please don’t tell me nothing is, because you don’t usually spend your afternoon in your bed crying your heart out.” Donna went to Laura and sank to her knees on the floor beside the dressing table.
“Play it by ear about when to bring your folks home. Their room is ready—as it always is.” Laura reached out and pushed back Donna’s hair in a tender gesture. “I’m not avoiding your question, Donna. I’m just trying to figure out a way to answer it that doesn’t make me seem a jerk.”
“As if you could.”
“Mark and I are…having a…some difficulty at the moment.”
“I had kind of gathered that from before,” Donna said softly. “Is there anything I can do? Anything, Laura! Walk on my knees across Golden Gate Bridge? Climb the outside of the Coit Tower—”
Laura laughed shakily. “No. But be prepared. One of these days Mark Hunt is going to explode and take the roof off. Just don’t get hurt in the fallout, that’s all.”
“Why, Laura? Why would he?”
“Listen, love, if you’re going to be there waving as your folks come off the plane, you’d better scoot.”
Donna clasped Laura’s hands. “Laura, why?”
“Because I…I’ve lied to him. And one of these days…one of these days…maybe even tonight—”
“Lied. You!”
“Well, not exactly. But I’ve kind of…lived a lie. You knew we lost a baby, didn’t you? Our second little boy?” Her voice was unsteady.
“Yes,” Donna said softly. “I knew that.”
“Well, I was pretty sick, too. And Mark exaggerated how bad it was for me. He was frantic. I admit my condition wasn’t too great, but it wasn’t as bad as he’s let himself believe. And now we’re bringing up E.J. alone, and it’s all wrong. I want another child—children. I was a lonely child, and I want my son to…” Her voice trailed off, and her huge blue eyes looked into the distance.
“Have you talked to him, really talked, laid it on the line, and…”
Laura laughed faintly. “A dozen times. We’ve had more fights over that one question than over everything else in our marriage combined. Trying to get Mark on the subject is like batting my head against—against solid iron. So I took things into my own hands.”
“You what?”
“I’m pregnant, Donna. And he doesn’t know.”
“Laura!” Donna sat back on her heels and stared at her friend. “But when he finds out…” She breathed deeply.
Laura laughed again. “Yes. Like I said. Whoosh. There goes the roof. And what’s more, I feel so damned guilty about it. Mark and I have always been so open, so honest with each other, and I…I’m the one who broke the trust. Oh, Donna! Look at the time! Forget about me, darling. You’ve got to get to the airport. And please, don’t worry your head about my problems. I’ll cope with them. Listen. What I meant to say about Sara and Evan.” She was rising from the bench and pulling Donna up from the floor. “Play it by ear with them. Bring them home immediately or not, however it works out. If all conversation fails, you can always bring them back here and Mrs. Cooper can provide a good late dinner. Or—”
“No. I thi
nk I won’t,” Donna said slowly. “Don’t plan on seeing them until tomorrow. I mean to talk to them, just the three of us. And then, however it works out, I’ll take them someplace to eat. Don’t wait up for us. It may take a while. Oh, Laura, I’m so…” She put out her hand, and the other woman clasped it.
“Forget me, Donna. Concentrate on making things right with your parents. My troubles will wait. You can solve them tomorrow.” The laughter they shared was closer to tears than mirth.
Donna arrived at San Francisco Airport a good fifteen minutes early, so she scouted out a place to talk privately with her parents. At one end of the baggage claim area a carrousel was out of order. Several seats lined a wall. That would do. She went back to wait for her parents’ flight. Despite her dread of the coming scene, she felt close to tears with the sheer joy of seeing them again. She had missed them.
When they came down the escalator in the straggling line of people, she felt a rush of mingled love and pride. Mom was absolutely beautiful, and Dad was the best-looking man in the airport. Nobody, nobody in the world had parents like them. But there were people, people everywhere, pushing her, getting in her way. Finally she found a space and wiggled through, flinging herself at them, trying to circle them both with her arms and not making it. They could all get on with the quarrel later. Right now she had to kiss them. Mom was clutching at her, saying, “Baby, baby.” Dad’s arm went around her and lifted her clear of the floor. She shouted, “I love you. I love you.”
“Come over here,” she said, breathless from the hugging. “I’ve staked out a place where we can talk. We’ll pick up your bags in a bit.”
“Here in the airport?” Evan said. “It’s not the most private place, but if you say so.” His voice was tight. The quarrel was coming. Oh, please God, don’t let it damage our relationship, Donna prayed. She looked keenly at their faces for an instant before she led the way to the empty waiting area. They looked tired. No, not tired. They looked sick. They were dreading this as much as she was. She must somehow make this as easy on them as possible.
Then, the very moment they were seated, Evan asked, “Why did you do it, Donna? Why did you need to find him?”
“I didn’t need to, Dad. I didn’t even want to.” She could feel embarrassed color flooding into her neck and face as she told them of her childish plot to capture Bruce’s attention for the summer. Her father was a moment slower to understand her meaning than her mother was.
“You’re kidding,” Sara said with mingled scorn and exasperation. “You mean you’ve got a crush on Bruce? Bruce, of all people!”
“No,” her father interposed. “She can’t mean that. She means…” He looked at her searchingly. “She does mean it! Oh, I can’t believe this.” He got up and paced to the end of the row of empty seats and came back. “Donna, for Pete’s sake, you’re nineteen years old. I’d have thought surely by now that you’d have more sense. What did Bruce say to this idiotic idea when you sprung it on him?”
“You have told him, haven’t you?” Sara asked, looking worried.
“Yes. Bruce knows.” Donna passed her tongue over her lips. “He was…well, at first he was a little appalled.”
“Ha! I don’t wonder,” Evan said. “At least he’s got some sense. What’d he say? Did he burst out laughing?”
“Bruce didn’t laugh,” Donna said in a small voice.
“In the first place,” Evan continued, keeping his voice down with an effort, “you haven’t even started college, Donna. What about that? That’s the reason you’ve been stalling about college plans, isn’t it? You had this in mind all along. You—”
“Evan, wait a minute. Donna, what did Bruce say when you told him?”
“He…” She swallowed hard. “Don’t laugh. Please don’t laugh at me. But to be flat-out honest, the first few minutes I thought he was going to turn and run screaming out of the house.”
“Good. I should think so,” Evan said bitterly. “Of all the devious…and to dig up that Tsung character as an excuse, just an excuse, mind you. Donna, that was sneaky. That was underhanded. I never thought, I never thought you would ever—”
“Dad, it wasn’t devious. I mean, it wasn’t intended to be. It was just…just…”
Sara reached over and touched Donna to get her attention. “Wait a minute. Let’s go back a minute. What does Bruce say now, Donna?”
“Just a sec, Mom. Daddy, Raymond Tsung isn’t a character. He’s your Mr. Solid Citizen. He’s a bank president. You can’t get much more solid than that. And he’s nice, he’s…” She stopped herself as both her parents seemed suddenly to freeze over at her defense of Raymond. “Now, about Bruce’s feelings,” she went on hastily. “He’s beginning to see it my way now. He’s—”
“He’s what!” Evan shouted. “Now just a goddamn minute!” Heads swiveled as the streams of people passed them. Some of the strangers paused. Sara caught Evan’s arm and squeezed it. He cleared his throat and lifted his head, looking at Donna levelly, his eyes like agates. “I see why you wanted to have this little meeting in the midst of a million people. So we can’t actually speak our minds.”
“Evan, wait a minute,” Sara interjected again, rubbing her hand back and forth on his arm. “We have to figure out what we’re going to do—”
“I know what we’re going to do,” Evan said grimly. “We will pay our respects to the Hunts and then get the first plane back to Vancouver—with our daughter. And at home, in the privacy of our living room, I’m going to talk some sense into that sneaky little mind of hers—”
“Now, Evan, that’s not fair,” Sara said, her own voice rising slightly. “She’s been trying to explain. Let her, for heaven’s sake.”
“She’s been explaining for ten minutes,” Evan said, standing up, “and so far she hasn’t made any sense that I can see.”
“Daddy, please. Sit down, please. Just listen. Bruce and I have talked it all over—”
“Oh good. That solves everything, doesn’t it? You and Bruce have talked it over. Fine.” He walked to the end of the row of seats and back again, his hands in his pockets, jingling coins and keys. “And what have you and Bruce decided, may I ask? I say ‘may I’ since I am only a parent, and of course, I have no rights here at all.”
“Oh, Daddy,” she said miserably. She swallowed tears and forced herself to continue. “We know I’m young. We know that Bruce has some things to work out for himself. We are willing to wait a while.” Her tone was pleading.
“Donna,” Evan said, holding back his rage, “you are nineteen years old. Nine years ago you were a child of ten. You are not adult enough to make a decision that—”
“Now hold it, Evan,” Sara said. “She’s not rushing into anything. She just said—”
“Make up your mind, Daddy,” Donna said, speaking sharply for the first time, then quickly modifying her tone. “A minute ago you said at nineteen I should have some sense. Now at nineteen I’m still a child. Which is it?”
He sat down, leaned forward, and reached out to her for the first time. It almost broke her heart. She took his hand and clasped it. “You see, honey,” he said desperately. “You are just too young. Marriage, even the promise of marriage, is such a commitment. It may be the biggest commitment that a man and woman can ever make. You don’t want to…to…blow it because of being too hasty, too impatient. Give yourself some time, just a little time, that’s all.” He lifted her hand absentmindedly to his lips and kissed it, the way he had a thousand times before. The gesture nearly undid Donna, but she held on to her control.
“And then, too,” he continued pleadingly, a sheen of tears in his own eyes for the first time. “There is the…uh…personal side of it, you see. A girl like you, having had a pretty sheltered life and all. Well, I mean, to be blunt, honey, there could be some sexual adjustment between you that you haven’t counted on. You see?”
“There won’t be any sexual adjustment, Daddy,” she said quietly.
“But how can you know that, baby? How
can—”
“Wait, Evan,” Sara, still holding Evan’s arm, slid her hand down and clasped his fingers in hers in an old familiar gesture. “What are you saying, Donna?” Her voice was tight with anxiety.
“I’m saying there won’t be any sexual adjustment, Mom. That’s all okay.”
“Donna, you don’t mean…you don’t mean…” Sara stammered.
“She doesn’t mean what? What doesn’t she mean?” Evan asked, glancing from one to the other of his women. Then a dull red rose had mottled his face. He stood up and walked over to the plate-glass window looking out on the end of the landing field. A plane’s lights revolved as it taxied by. A truck loomed, then passed going in the opposite direction. White uniforms stood out in the gloom as workers crossed the tarmac. Inside the airport, endless feet clacked across the tile floor, the metallic voice from the public-address system spattered words, and TV monitors constantly rolled over more lists of flights coming and going.
Finally he came back. There were pinched white lines around his nostrils, and he was muttering softly, “That bastard, that bastard,” as he sat down.
Donna felt tears slipping from her eyes for the first time.
“You are coming home, Donna. Now. We will skip going to the Hunts. They’ll understand. I’ll get us a flight.” He didn’t move from his chair.
“I’m not going back, Daddy,” Donna said gently. “Not until it’s time for the fall quarter. This is it, Daddy. Please. Try to understand.”
He looked at her dully for a long moment, and Donna’s heart ached. It was the first time she had ever defied him. Oh, loving was a costly, costly thing. For a moment, she wasn’t sure she could pay the price.
“Evan,” Sara said. Her voice was gentle, and she gripped his hands again, her fingers entwined in his. “Just maybe Donna’s right. Maybe, when we weren’t looking, she grew up. I’m not asking you to face it just yet, but maybe you should think about it, consider it.”
“Well, don’t ask me not to talk to Fenton,” Evan said, his voice hard. “Because I intend to.”
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