High Meadow

by Joan Wolf

"Yes. I am calling you from Daniel's."

  "How was your flight?"

  "There was the usual delay going through Customs, but otherwise it was fine."

  "How was your visit?"

  "Good, but I missed you."

  Molly glanced into the hallway, but Daniel and Ben were in the living room. "I missed you, too. How did the discussion about your book go?"

  "Very well, indeed. It looks as if I might make some good money out of this book."

  "That's wonderful, Alberto. I am so pleased for you."

  "Yes. It is very nice."

  "I wish I could read it."

  "It is going to be translated into English, and you can read it then."

  "Wonderful."

  "When can I see you? Can you go out to dinner with me tomorrow?"

  "I have to make dinner for Ben and Daniel. Kate has a late night. But I can go out after that. Daniel is here to be with Ben."

  "Shall I pick you up at seven?"

  "Seven would be fine."

  "I'll see you then."

  "Okay. Good-bye, Alberto."

  "Good-bye, Molly."

  Molly hung up and went to stand at the kitchen window, hugging her elbows and looking down at the barn. She had been surprised by how much she missed Alberto. In a very short time he had woven himself into the fabric of her life, and when he was gone he left a hole.

  Where is this friendship going? she wondered. Alberto is not the kind of man to have casual relationships.

  There had been nothing physical between them except for the last time, when Alberto had kissed her hand. It had been a surprisingly erotic gesture, and Molly had been shocked by the strength of her own response. She had lived a celibate life since Tim's death, and if she sometimes missed the presence of a man, the feel of a man, she had not let herself dwell on those absences. She had too many responsibilities to be thinking about men.

  Then Alberto had come along. She had never met anyone like him. Their thoughts matched so closely that sometimes listening to him was like listening to herself.

  It had not been that way with Tim. Their relationship had been a paradigm of "opposites attract."

  Am I falling in love with Alberto? Have I already fallen in love with him? And if I have, what can I do about it?

  These were questions she had no answers to.

  I need to see him again. I need to see how I feel when I am with him once again. Then, perhaps, I will know.

  * * *

  They went to a seafood restaurant in Norwalk. As they sat across from each other at the candlelit table, Molly looked at Alberto's face. It was a fine face, she thought, masculine yet sensitive, with an appealing gravity in the intelligent brown eyes.

  What would Tim think of him? she wondered.

  The answer was immediate. They wouldn't have a thought in common.

  How could I have loved Tim the way I did, then turn around and love someone who is his complete opposite? Because I think I do love Alberto. I certainly care about him and. . . and I would like to go to bed with him.

  Molly flushed as she had this last thought and concentrated her attention on what Alberto was saying about the horrors of going through Customs at JFK if you were a Colombian.

  The waiter took their drinks order, and she said, "Ben is so excited about having Daniel to live with us."

  "Daniel was looking forward to it as well."

  "I don't know how happy he was after the Cub Scout meeting last night. I gather it was pretty raucous."

  Alberto smiled. "It is good for Daniel to see the difficult side of being a father. So far he has had only the good times."

  "He took it pretty well," Molly said. "His only comment when he came home was that he had better be a good person because if he wasn't, and he got sent to hell, his punishment would be to spend all of eternity at a Cub Scout pack meeting."

  Alberto laughed out loud.

  "Kate agreed with him. She was delighted that she didn't have to go."

  "You don't take him to his Cub Scout meetings?"

  "I take him to the den meeting once a week, but I leave him there and pick him up. I refused to do the pack meetings. I'm too old. Kate arranged her schedule to be able to go with him."

  Their drinks came and Molly took a sip of her wine.

  Alberto said, "I missed you while I was in Colombia. I didn't expect to miss you so much."

  Molly looked at him in surprise. "I felt the same way."

  "We haven't known each other for that long, but I feel that there is a connection between us, Molly. I wonder if you feel it, too?"

  "Yes."

  "It is wonderful, but it is a little disrupting, too."

  "I know what you mean."

  "My daughter kept asking me when I was coming home to stay."

  Molly looked at him over the rim of her wineglass. "And what did you tell her?"

  "I told her that I didn't know. I told her that there was a woman in Connecticut that I cared about."

  "And what did your daughter say?"

  "She was a little dismayed. She has been the only woman in my life for several years now, and her children have been one of the focal points of my existence. She's afraid that all that may change."

  Molly put her glass down. "Will it?"

  "Nothing will ever lessen my daughter's and my grandchildren's importance to me. But they may have to learn to share their premier places with someone else."

  Molly nodded gravely.

  "And then there is my book. I am seriously thinking of giving up teaching and going into writing full-time."

  "Can you afford to do that, Alberto?"

  "I think I can. I think the foreign rights money from my book is going to be substantial."

  "Would you continue to work for Daniel?"

  The waiter came to take their orders, and Alberto told him they weren't ready yet. Then he said, "I am very fond of Daniel, but I need my own space."

  "Yes," Molly said.

  "I have been thinking about asking you to marry me."

  "I have cancer, Alberto."

  "You are going to beat the cancer."

  "I hope so, but there's no guarantee."

  "I feel in my heart that you are going to be healthy again, Molly. I did not feel that way when my wife got sick, but she had a different kind of cancer."

  "Well... I have to admit that I've been thinking about the possibility of marrying you."

  "Do you think it could work?"

  She shook her head. "I couldn't leave Kate and Ben, Alberto. They need me too much."

  "Kate will marry Daniel. It is written in the cards."

  "I think she might. I hope she does. But even if she does, Kate will still need me to help her with Ben. Daniel is away too much for her to count on him."

  "Kate can get a baby-sitter, like every other working mother."

  "Ben has never had baby-sitters. He's always had us."

  "Then it's time he learned to live with a baby-sitter."

  Molly gave a forced laugh. "Are you really asking me to marry you, Alberto?"

  "Yes, I am. What do you say?"

  "I'm going to have to think about it. I don't know if I could turn my back on Kate and Ben and go to live in Colombia."

  "What if we split our time between Colombia and the States? Six months in each place. How would that be?"

  "You would do that?"

  "For you, I would do that."

  "I don't know, Alberto. I'll have to think about it." "Of course. I won't rush you, querida." "Good grief," Molly said. "Here comes the waiter again. We had better look at this menu and decide what we're going to eat."

  Molly went to sleep right away that night, but she woke up at one and went to the bathroom. As she was coming out of the bathroom she heard the sound of voices in Kate's room. She stopped short.

  It was barely more than a murmur, but Molly's hearing was very acute.

  It's Daniel and Kate, she thought.

  She moved quietly back to her bed.

&nbs
p; Daniel and Kate. So something really is happening between them.

  She smiled, but as she lay there the smile slowly faded. And where does that leave me? What kind of a future can I see for myself if Daniel and Kate do marry?

  If Kate and Daniel married, everything would be changed. She would no longer be living with Kate and Ben.

  Do I want to live by myself? Do I want to grow old by myself? Do I want to grow old with Alberto?

  If he were an American, it wouldn't be so hard to make a decision.

  What a stupid thought. Being Colombian is part of who Alberto is, and it's Alberto that I love.

  It could be an exciting life. If Alberto turned into a literary lion, she would have the opportunity to mix in circles she had never dreamed of. That would be fun. Living in Colombia for half the year might be fun as well. She liked Rafael and Victoria very much, and presumably she would like Alberto's other friends too.

  What if Kate and Daniel don't marry?

  That won't happen, she thought. For other people their ages, sex might not mean commitment, but Molly was certain that for her daughter and Daniel it did. Kate had never had any other relationship, and Daniel must know that. He would take a relationship between them very seriously.

  They would marry, and have more children, and Molly would be an ordinary grandma, not the principal caregiver she had been to Ben. There would be a big space in her life that could not be filled by her teaching.

  Perhaps I shouldn't give Alberto an answer until there is an announcement from Kate and Daniel.

  Is that fair to Alberto? "I can't marry you, Alberto, until I am certain that my daughter's future is settled." How will he take a comment like that?

  She thought of his response at dinner when she had brought this subject up: "Let Kate get a baby-sitter like other working mothers."

  He was right.

  Would Kate even continue to work once she was married? Somehow, Molly couldn't picture a multimillionaire like Daniel living in the farmhouse.

  Perhaps she'll have babies and stay home.

  Molly smiled into her pillow. Impossible. Children at home would never be enough to take up all of Kate's energy. And it was simply impossible to picture Kate without her horses.

  I should make this decision independently of Kate, as I'm sure Kate will make her decision independently of me. So? Do I or don't I? I think. . . I think maybe I will.

  * * *

  34

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  It was a cold, overcast day and Kate looked up at the sky, a frown on her face. She was running a little low on wood shavings, and her next delivery wasn't until the following week, so she was planning to take the pickup over to Agway to pick up some bags.

  I'll take a tarp, she decided. That way, if it rains, the bedding will be okay.

  She made the run and had driven into the stable yard with the pickup when Daniel's Mercedes came up the driveway. He parked in front of the house and came down to the stable area as she was unloading the truck.

  "Whoa," he said. "Let me do that. Those bags are heavy."

  "I do this all the time," Kate said. "You've seen the muscles in my arms and back. I'm fine. And you can't lift these because of your hand."

  "It won't hurt my hand . . ."

  "Daniel, don't be an idiot. Of course it could hurt your hand. You have broken bones. Now go away and let me get on with my work."

  His mouth tightened, then he turned on his heel and went back up to the house.

  I've hurt his feelings, Kate thought. But really. Any child would know enough not to pick up a weight like this with a broken hand.

  She spent the next forty minutes unloading the truck and stacking the bedding in the space in front of the wash stall. When she went back to the house, Daniel was having a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

  "Any left?" she asked cheerfully as she went to the coffeemaker.

  "Yes."

  She poured herself a cup and came to sit across from him at the table. "When you sulk you look just like Ben."

  "I am not sulking."

  "It sure looks like that's what you're doing."

  He said through his teeth, "It's this damn hand."

  "You've got two more weeks, Daniel, and then the tape can come off."

  "I hate to see you doing these strenuous things, Kata. I know I'm being chauvinistic about it, but it hurts my pride."

  "It's my job, Daniel. I will hate you going away to spring training, but that's your job. We have to learn to live with each other's jobs."

  "I suppose you're right," he said grumpily. "But you should employ a man around here to do the heavy work."

  "I can't afford to hire a man."

  He scowled at her.

  'Are you going to be home for dinner tonight, or is tonight the night you're speaking at the Little League dinner?"

  "Tonight is the Little League dinner. I told Molly this morning that I wouldn't be here for dinner."

  "Okay."

  He stood up. "If you will excuse me, I have some work to do on my computer."

  Kate watched him leave the kitchen, a faint frown on her face.

  Something was wrong with Daniel.

  He's worried about his hand.

  Well, so am I. But it's not as bad as Mom's cancer. It's not like his life is being threatened.

  But in a way it was. His life as a baseball player, as a pitcher, was being threatened. He hadn't said much to Kate about his feelings on this subject, but she could guess what they must be. Perhaps in six or seven years, when his skills were lessening, he would be tired of the grueling schedule. Perhaps then he would be ready to retire. He wasn't ready yet.

  She could see the moment again, Daniel's hand on the ground, poised to pick up the towel, and Shane's hoof coming down right on it.

  God. What an uncanny thing to have happened.

  She poured more coffee into her cup, stirred in a little sugar, and sat back down at the table.

  Daniel hadn't mentioned marriage again. He had asked her to marry him once, and she had put him off, and he hadn't asked again.

  He loves me. I know he loves me. Then why hasn't he asked me to marry him again?

  Is it his hand?

  In a few weeks he would be leaving for spring training. She would miss him desperately. And it was not just the lovemaking that she would miss. She would miss coming into the kitchen or the living room and unexpectedly finding him there; she would miss the way he said her name; she would miss the nights they didn't make love, but just slept together in the same bed—peaceful, because they were with each other.

  It was February, and Daniel was still living at High Meadow. Kate had asked him to stay on, and he had told her that it would take a bomb to get him out.

  She had laughed. It was the first attempt at levity that he had made in quite some time, and she wanted to reward it. Most of the time he was . . . preoccupied. Even Ben had to say sometimes, "Daddy are you listening to me?"

  It was his hand. The closer they got to spring training, the closer he came to the moment when he would know if he would still be the pitcher that he had been, the tenser he got.

  And there was nothing she could do. If there was a feeling of desperation in his lovemaking sometimes, all she could do was to respond with the ardor he so clearly needed from her. The rest of it was in God's hands.

  As February progressed, George's Morgans were sold to a horse farm in Bethany, so Kate did not have to keep running over to his place twice a day to feed and to turnout. Ben's Cub Scouts had their annual Pinewood Derby and Daniel helped Ben to make the car that came in second. And Molly slept with Alberto.

  It was not something that either of them had planned. They had gone out to dinner and returned to Daniel's house to listen to a new album that Alberto had bought. They were sitting on the sofa, listening to the strains of Bach, when Alberto suddenly covered her hand with his, and said softly, "Shall it be tonight, Molly? Maria has gone to bed."

  Molly turned and looked int
o his face. She didn't pretend to misunderstand him. 'All right. . . but it's been a very long time for me, Alberto. Tim has been dead for nine years."

  "I, too, have been alone since my wife died. But I'm tired of being alone. I want you Molly. I love you, and I want you."

  She smiled. "I love you and I want you, too."

  "Then come to my bedroom with me."

  "All right."

  He stood up and held out a hand to help her. She arose and, hand in hand, they walked down the corridor, up the stairs, and into Alberto's bedroom.

  Molly had never been in here before, and she looked around curiously. It was furnished with a queen-sized bed with a maple headboard and footboard, and a maple bureau and chest of drawers. The bedspread was a simple white chenille, but the rug was a beautiful oriental. Several pictures were placed on the bureau, and Molly went over to look at them. Alberto followed.

  "That was my wife," he said as Molly picked up a portrait of a dark-haired smiling woman with a high-bridged nose and hair pulled back off her face.

  "She's lovely."

  He picked up another picture. "And this is my daughter and son-in-law with their children."

  The young woman in the picture bore a close resemblance to the photo Molly had just put down. "She looks like her mother."

  "Yes, she does. And this is Anna and this," he pointed to the baby his daughter was cradling, "is Ricardo."

  "They're adorable," Molly said sincerely.

  "I think so. Ricardo is walking now; he was only a few months old when that picture was taken."

  "You have a lovely family, Alberto."

  "Thank you. And now I am going to kiss you."

  They had never done more than exchange brief kisses of greeting and departure, but from the moment that his mouth touched hers, Molly knew that this was something different. She slid her arms around him and gave herself up to the moment.

  Time passed blissfully, then he said in a husky voice, "Let us go to bed, querida."

  "All right." Molly followed him over to the bed and the two of them shed their clothes and Alberto pulled back the covers and they got in.

  The feel of his lean body against hers was so different from the muscled bulk of Tim, but the sensations waking in her own body were familiar. She had had an intensely passionate relationship with her husband, and now the passion rose in her again, like a bell clanging throughout her body. Alberto's hands were skillful and gentle, and the more they touched and caressed, the louder the bell rang inside her. When they both were ready, she wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back so he could enter.