“Well,” Katie said, “if you know something to be true and you write it, that’s fact. But if you’re not sure and you make up something, even just one sentence about it, that’s fiction.” She turned to wave at Irene, who had taken a seat in the classroom. “But that doesn’t mean that fiction can’t turn to fact. It can.” She smiled at the boys. “Okay? It’s that simple.” When the students had left and they were alone in the classroom, Irene said, “For someone who can teach an English course on what’s fact and what’s fiction, you sure do a lousy job of mixing it up in real life.”
“Please, let’s not start on Jason and me again.”
“Let’s not forget Sam. You do remember Sam, don’t you? The guy you met at Cedar Crest, the guy you fell in love with?” Irene took out a pencil and tapped it. “That’s fact, Katie,” she said, mimicking her friend’s words. “It’s that simple.”
Katie nodded. “I know. But what about the other part—the fiction? I haven’t heard from him, not since he left.”
“You told him not to bother you, that it couldn’t be.”
“But he really hasn’t tried to contact me. Not in three weeks.”
“Maybe he will yet. But that’s not the entire problem. Even if you never hear from him again,” Irene persisted, “you’re still going to have to do something about Jason. You don’t love him and never will. Sam proved it. It’s not fair to Jason.”
“We could have a good marriage,” Katie said weakly.
“Great! And you’d settle for it?” Irene walked to the blackboard and idly drew circles on it. “Don’t you want something more, Katie? You just don’t fall in love with a man within two or three days and then say, ‘the heck with it, I’m going back to my nice, little, safe corner of the world.’ ”
Katie stared at her friend. That was exactly what Sam had said to her—that she would rather take second-best, that she’d rather not go for the gold. That was why she didn’t attempt Devil’s Mist after that first time because it was too frightening. Better to be safe than sorry, and now here she was safe and sorry. Jason was here and she was going to marry him, and Sam was elsewhere and she was in love with him.
“Jason and I want the same things. We have the same values.”
“And you’re both schoolteachers and you both understand your professions and you would both stay right here on this spot of earth for the rest of your lives. Is that what you want?”
“You make it sound so dull, so boring.”
“It is, Katie. There’s no life there. You just think you want the same things because you saw how unhappy your mother was with your father’s job. But did you ever think that it might have been more, that his traveling was only a cover-up, that maybe there was something basically wrong with the marriage and that travel was the handiest excuse around? Maybe, if you asked your mother for the real reason, you would learn something about her and your father.
“Katie, you can’t try to live your life by reliving your mother’s. You can’t save the world or change it. It just is, and believe me, you have to go out and do the best you know how and love whomever you want. You owe yourself that much. I saw you when you came home from the ski trip. There was a sparkle in your eyes, a happiness I hadn’t seen since you were a kid. You were alive again, emotionally and mentally. And it was all because you’d met Sam.” She drew a small circle on the board and then placed points around the orbit. “This circle is you and Jason,” she said, writing in their names. And then she pointed to a distant dot. “And this is Sam.”
“Floating all around the earth, I notice.” Katie laughed even though she knew it was true and it hurt her.
“At least he’s able to get a better perspective on the world.” Irene drew a line from the dot to Katie’s name within the circle. “This is your way out of a nice little niche that you’ve created. And if I were you, I’d think very carefully about it.”
Everything Irene had said was true. She would be locked into a predictable and prosaic life with Jason, and she wondered why neither of them ever talked about transferring to another school or district, or even moving to another town. Surely Jason would be at least an assistant principal, if not a principal, in another school. He was capable and had a good rapport with students.
But then again, so was she, and she hadn’t considered transferring. Maybe Irene was right, maybe she had settled down at an early age. She was only in her twenties. Why hadn’t she done anything about her career? She was a good teacher and could be an assistant principal, but the thought had never entered her mind. Irene was right; she didn’t have any ambition. And neither did Jason. They were too content and secure to move on. She wondered if they had done that to each other.
“Are you listening, Katie?” Irene’s words cut through her reverie. “If I were you I’d talk to Jason, tell him what’s been going on, make him see that you two aren’t good for each other because you don’t love him. It’s that simple. Tell him the honest truth.” Picking up the chalk again, she wrote Sam’s name on the board once more. “And then I would write Sam a letter. Or I would call him and tell him what you’ve done and that maybe he should come visit you. And then… well, then you will see what happens.” She folded her hands as though she had just completed a lesson. “Any discussion?”
“And if I can’t locate him?”
“You can.”
“And if he doesn’t want me?”
“Ah,” Irene said, “that’s the key question. Well, if he doesn’t want you, he won’t answer. And if he doesn’t answer, then you won’t have to deal with whether you should marry him. And if you don’t deal with it, you will have at least cleared up the Jason-and-you match.” She erased the blackboard. “Oh, Katie! Don’t be as stupid as I was once upon a time.” Katie shook her head.
“I don’t understand.”
Irene sat down at a desk and pursed her lips. “I’ve been wondering whether I should tell you this.” She looked away through the window toward the white dogwoods in bloom at the front of the school. “Don’t ask me any questions and don’t ask me when this all happened. Just sit and listen and when I’m finished, just file it under ‘gone but not forgotten’ and never talk to me about it again. You’ll understand why.” She took a deep breath.
“A few years ago, when I went away on one of my beach weekends, I met someone I considered pretty special. Incredibly special. It was summer, we were both on vacation, and one thing led to another and there I was, head over heels in love with this guy. I won’t even tell you his name—not that I’ve forgotten it. I never will, Katie, but his name is important only to me. Like your Sam, he was totally different from me, and he absolutely swept me off my feet and I loved it. But to make this very long and very sad story very brief, he was going back to his hometown somewhere in the Northeast and when he asked me to go too, I thought about everything I had—my family, friends, career—and I said I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that I needed those roots because I knew they would always be there for me. But he was so absolutely different from me, and I was, to put it quite simply, afraid to take the chance. I was too darn scared to go with him.”
Irene shook her head. “That was several years ago, and I’ve never forgotten him. I never heard from him again and when I came home I never said anything to anyone. I think that was because I knew immediately, even while driving home from the beach, that I had made a mistake. But a lot of things—pride, stupidity, fear—never allowed me to write or call him. And now I look back and say to myself that it was so foolish of me… so very foolish.”
Irene looked once more at the dogwoods. “And I don’t want that to happen to you, my friend.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “Learn from other people’s mistakes, Ms. Jarvis! I lost a love because I was too demanding and set in my mind. Go for it, Katie! Go for it!” She looked at her laptop computer. “I once did a search on the internet and found out that he’s married now.” She sighed. “I hope he’s happy. I really do.”
Katie opened her mouth to speak
but Irene motioned her to silence. “Uh-uh. I told you no questions. Ever. “What’s done is done! So come on, I’ve got a ton of papers to grade this evening though maybe I’ll just forget them and read a book and maybe think about what might have been. I’ll give the papers back next week.” Irene laughed. “Only those who passed the test will be interested in their marks. Somehow, the kids who don’t know a right triangle from a circle couldn’t care less.”
Chapter Sixteen
When she saw the postman put the letters into the mailboxes, Katie knew somehow that there would be a letter from Sam. She saw it immediately, the plain white envelope with the no-nonsense, almost-print handwriting, and she peered at the return address from somewhere in England. Her hand trembled as she tore it open, and a thousand thoughts raced through her mind as she read the letter.
My dearest Katie-Katie,
I hope this is welcome news. I’m afraid I can’t keep my promise to you, the one that I agreed to when I told you I would never try to contact you. I’m afraid, my love, it’s much too difficult and too high a price to pay in my life right now. I won’t bore you with the details—let it be sufficient to say that I’m traveling, doing well, and, Katie-Katie, I miss you very much.
Maybe you’ve had a chance to think about us and have been able to sort out the obstacles that keep us apart. Doesn’t that phrasing sound so terribly old-fashioned?
Katie, I will be in the States next week and I will call you. Maybe it’s not too late for us!
Know that I love you very much,
Sam
She held the letter tightly and reread it, almost hearing him speak the words. Then she looked at the postmark. Last week! That meant he was going to telephone any day now.
She sat down at the kitchen table. Was it welcome news? If she had to tell the truth, yes, it was very welcome although she knew that seeing him again would only cloud her plans. Her heart was racing. Yes, she did want to see him, there was no question about that. She missed him and his easy humor and the excitement of being with him.
She sighed. Should she tell Irene? Should she allow him to visit? There were so many questions now that she knew that she was totally in love with Sam. But first, she had to think about Jason. She owed him so much. And she owed him the courtesy of telling him about Sam. Even if she and Sam never lived happily ever after as in fairy tales, she knew that she couldn’t go through with the marriage to Jason. That was finished. In fact, it was finished when Sam kissed her on the farmhouse steps.
She reached for her cell phone; she should tell Jason immediately. She started to dial and then replaced the receiver. No, that would be cowardly and mean and she owed Jason more than that. She had to face him and explain what was happening.
Once more she picked up the phone and once more she put it down. If she called Jason and asked him to meet her, he would think something was wrong with her, and he would probably rush over to her apartment. And she didn’t want that. She wanted to tell him about her and Sam in a public place, though not in school, where there would be too many interruptions by students and faculty members. And certainly not in the school cafeteria.
She would wait until they went to The Country Cottage tomorrow night. Then she would tell him. They would have privacy, but it was open enough so that she wouldn’t cry when she told him.
It was sad. She never liked to hurt anyone and here she was hurting someone who had once figured to be a big part of her life. Endings, even of sad movies, always made her cry. It was silly, but that was the way she was in spite of her strong ideas of how people should behave. Crying was necessary sometimes.
Okay, tomorrow she would talk with Jason and tell him that she was breaking off their engagement because someone else had come into her life. She put her head down. It was terrible. It was so cruel. But she remembered Irene’s words. “You sometimes have to be cruel. There’s no other way. Are you going to marry him just because you feel sorry for him?” Irene was right. Better to get it over with quickly, once and for all, and then plan the next step no matter what it was.
And the next step? What was that to be? It was still a huge hurdle because she just wouldn’t be comfortable with Sam away so often. It wouldn’t be enough for her. She needed companionship and love and a sense of being needed. With Sam, she wouldn’t be sure that he needed her. He was so self-sufficient.
She read the letter for a third time and then replaced it in its envelope. First she had to meet Jason, because no matter what happened between her and Sam, she knew that she could never marry Jason. She admitted it. She didn’t love him. She really never had. Sam was right—she had settled for something other than love, and it was fine as long as she hadn’t experienced the feeling of genuine happiness. But now that Sam had come into her life, she’d begun to cherish the experience of being loved and loving.
She would talk with Jason tomorrow and then figure out what to do about Sam.
Chapter Seventeen
While the waitress took their orders, Katie wondered how she could tell Jason that she wanted to break their engagement. How would he take it? Would he be hurt? Would he understand? Would he say anything? She watched as he read the menu. Make me think that I’m wrong, that I really do love you and we really should marry. But Jason was silent. He had no reason to know what she was thinking and no reason to suspect what was about to be said. In his mind, he and Katie were set for life. Only Katie had the advantage of knowing that that assumption was wrong.
She sighed. No use putting it off. Maybe if she waited until they were back in her apartment when she could speak easier. But she knew it was really only another excuse not to talk to him about the situation.
“Something’s on your mind, Katie.” Jason snapped his fingers in front of her face, the way he always did when she had that faraway look in her eyes and he wanted to bring her back to earth. “What’s troubling you? You’ve been extra quiet all evening. All day, in fact.” He smiled at her. “Actually, you’ve been quiet all week. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Jason,” Katie began, “I don’t know how I can tell you this.” She circled the rim of her water glass with her finger.
“Why don’t you just say it, Katie?”
She took a deep breath. “Because I don’t want to hurt you.” He seemed startled by her words and she realized that he had no idea what she was talking about. “Jason, it’s us.” How could she tell him the rest of it when he looked at her as though she were speaking a language he didn’t understand? But she had to and she took a deep breath. “I can’t marry you, Jason,” she finally blurted out, angry that they weren’t the words she had wanted to use. “I’m not sure of you… of us.” She bunched up her napkin. “No, that’s not true. I’m not sure of me.” She looked at him briefly. “It’s me. I’m the problem.”
“Want to talk about it?” He reached for her hand but she pulled it away, then was immediately sorry she did it. The action—the rejection—had hurt him. She could tell by the way his eyes had clouded for a second. And he seemed confused. “Is it something I’ve done?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Is it something I should have done?” He smiled, and she knew it was his attempt at humor and she hated herself for hurting him.
“No.” She looked down at the table while the waitress served their coffee. “It’s something I’ve done. It’s my problem, not yours.” She wanted him to know that he really didn’t play a part in her decision, that he was truly the innocent party, that whatever had happened was because of her and Sam.
“It’s that man you met at Cedar Crest, isn’t it? The man you skied with at the Crest.” She nodded her head, miserable that she was hurting him and yet surprised that he remembered their conversation and could piece it all together. She’d thought that he hadn’t been listening, or even been concerned when she told him about Sam.
“Yes, it’s Sam. I wish you had really listened to me when I told you about him, when I first met him.”
“
I thought I had, because I remembered him. I guess I wasn’t listening to it all, though.” He blinked his eyes in confusion, and her heart went out to him. “I thought it was, at most, just a… a?”
“A flirtation?” she asked gently. “A winter romance?” When he nodded, she bit her lip. “I thought so too, but it wasn’t. It hasn’t turned out that way.”
“I was sure,” he began, and then stopped, waited a few seconds, and began again: “I was sure that it was just something you had to get over, that you needed the… the… what shall I call it? I’ll use your word. A flirtation? I thought you needed the excitement of….’’ He looked at his hands. “Well, never mind.” He sipped his coffee. “You don’t love me now, do you?”
Katie’s stomach was a huge knot. No matter what anyone said, breaking up wasn’t easy. She didn’t want to hurt Jason, but she had to. She had to tell him how she felt.
“Jason, it’s not that I don’t love you now. It’s probably that I never really loved you enough. If I’m honest and fair, I have to take the whole blame. You haven’t changed. I have. You’re still you. Only, I’m not the same Katie Jarvis. You represented everything I wanted. You’re a fine and really wonderful man but I don’t love you. I guess I always knew it, but it was easier not to acknowledge it. You were what I would have wanted if I had to make up a list of all the good qualities in a husband. But, Jason, what’s missing is. . . .” How could she explain it more clearly?
He said it for her: “The spark?”
“Yes, the spark.”
He stirred his coffee, swirling it around and around. “I know I’ve never been the most exuberant or the most exciting person in the world. In fact, I guess I’m a pretty dull person.”
She shook her head. “No… no, that’s not it.”
“There’s no denying it, Katie. Like you, I am what I am.”
Warm Winter Love Page 10