Country

by Danielle Steel

  They talked about nothing, and just talked at each other while they ate and drank all night, asked about one another’s kids but didn’t listen. The fourteenth time someone asked her, after telling her how sorry they were about her loss again, she wanted to tell them that Michael was in jail, Louise was turning tricks in New York, and Charlotte had gotten knocked up in Europe. She didn’t, but they wouldn’t have heard her anyway. It was the most depressing evening she’d spent in years, and Alyson asked her solicitously if she’d had a good time, somehow conveying the message that she knew she couldn’t possibly since she’d come alone, and no longer had a husband.

  Stephanie quietly called a cab to take her home, since she’d arrived in one so she could have a drink or two. The others had driven themselves, and would be driving home drunk all over Marin, as they always did. She wanted to scream on the ride home, and she watched the fireworks from the cab on the Golden Gate Bridge. They were pretty, but the evening had been morbidly depressing. And she couldn’t even call Chase to tell him about it, since he was on stage in Nashville at that moment. She was happy to know that her son was there and wished she were too. She had slipped away and only said goodbye to Alyson. She just couldn’t face all the others to say goodbye in her new role of “Poor Stephanie.” It was the first party she’d gone to since Bill died, and it had been unbearable for her.

  She paid the cab and went inside to the dark house and silence that were familiar now. There was no one to talk to about the party, and she didn’t want to anyway. She put on jeans and an old sweater, and she didn’t want to go to bed, so she finally tackled the project she had dreaded most, knowing she couldn’t get more depressed than she already was. She started emptying Bill’s closet, and laid his jackets and trousers one by one on their bed. She and Michael had already discussed it, and he was much taller than his father, and thinner, there was nothing he could wear or wanted to keep. And his feet were three sizes larger than his father’s. So she was going to give it all away.

  She had put boxes aside in the garage for the project, and she brought them all upstairs. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning when she finished, and all of Bill’s suits, slacks, sports coats, shirts, ties, shoes, underwear, and everything he’d ever worn, including his tuxedo, was neatly folded in boxes, and taped closed. She didn’t even feel the tears running down her cheeks. And all of his drawers and closets in his dressing room were empty. There was no sign of him at all except in the photographs of him around the house in silver frames. He was a ghost now. He was gone.

  She fell asleep on the bed with her clothes on, too tired to change, and she walked around the house the next morning, as though seeing it for the first time. She moved some chairs around, and a table. She pushed her desk to the other side of the room, and she was surprised by how much better things looked when she was finished. She even rehung some paintings in the living room and dining room, and took down one Bill had loved and she didn’t. They’d bought it in London, of a hunt with the hounds tearing a fox apart. She was going to put it in a storeroom they had downstairs, she didn’t want to see it anymore. She took out some silver bowls she’d put away, and a small statue she loved that Bill had hated, and the house started to look more feminine as she moved things, and put things away. She was desperate suddenly to make it her own, and no longer theirs.

  And that afternoon she moved some of her clothes into his closet. She felt like a traitor doing it, as though she were burying him again. But she didn’t want to live in a shrine. It was her house now, for as long as she chose to live there, and she had a feeling he would have done the same thing.

  She carried all the boxes down to the garage to give them away, and Jean called as she was coming back up the stairs. She’d been busy all day. And she hadn’t heard from Chase yet, which was unusual for him, but she was glad she hadn’t. She needed to do this alone. She was relieved that it was Jean.

  “Great party, wasn’t it?” Jean said happily, and Stephanie hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say, and decided to tell her the truth.

  “I hated it. I felt like a freak all night. ‘Poor Stephanie…I’m so sorry for your loss…what have you been doing?…oh poor you…and how are the children doing?’ It’s like I have no identity anymore except as whatever is left of Bill. I felt like I was on furlough from a mental institution. And why was Alyson so nervous all night? She looked like she needed a Xanax or a Valium or something.”

  “You know how Brad is. He wants everything perfect, so she gets nervous. But I thought she did a great job. I’m sorry you had a tough time, Steph. It was the first time you went out. It’ll be better next time.” Not unless she got new friends, Stephanie thought to herself. The prospect of going through that again made her want to scream. She’d felt like a whole person in Nashville, where no one knew her, but the night before had been her worst nightmare come true. She felt buried alive with Bill.

  “I emptied all his closets last night when I got home. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was suffocating. I feel like I’ve lost my identity. It’s like they think I’m nobody without him. And I think so too. No job, no career, no kids anymore, no Bill. There’s nothing left of me. That’s all I ever was, the service department for all of them with no identity of my own. I need to do something with my life, but I just don’t know what. There’s no me.”

  “Yes, there is,” Jean said soothingly. She could hear how upset she was, and she understood. “You were a great wife, and you’re still a great mother. You didn’t have time to be you when they were all here. You were taking care of them. The same thing would happen to Alyson if Brad died. Good wives don’t make themselves known, they’re too busy nurturing other people, unless you’re a bitch like me.” Stephanie laughed at what she said, but Jean had a definite personality, was true to herself, and took care of her own needs. Stephanie knew she hadn’t. She had always been quiet and discreet and done what Bill wanted and what worked for him. It never occurred to anyone, least of all him, what she needed or what worked for her.

  “Maybe I was too scared to speak up,” she said to Jean. And she thought Alyson was too. She was so terrified to lose Brad, or piss him off, that she had stopped being anyone except the person he wanted her to be, not who she had been. “What’s wrong with us, acting like that? And then they die, or leave us, and there’s no us left, just the shell of what we once were. That’s not who I want to be anymore,” Stephanie said firmly, “I want to be me. I just don’t know who that is yet.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Jean said calmly. “I’m proud of you, Steph. You’ve grown up since Bill died.” And her drive across the country had been a rite of passage of some kind, as much as the trip to Nashville with Chase. She had been brave enough to enter and explore new worlds, which she could never have done with Bill. And Stephanie had the strange feeling that if Bill had returned from the dead at that moment, she wouldn’t have wanted to be married to him anymore, even if she was lonely now. She was beginning to like who she was becoming too much to ever give it up. She was never going to let anyone do that to her again.

  They talked for a while, and Chase called her late that afternoon. He apologized for not calling sooner, but they had left the concert and gone out to all the bars with live music, so he could show Michael, and they had done the same again that day. Chase said they’d had a ball. It was what Nashville was all about, and they were going to the Grand Ole Opry that night, which Michael wanted to see too.

  “Don’t let him wear you out,” Stephanie said apologetically.

  “He won’t. This is what I love. And he knows a lot about country music. I was surprised.”

  “He loved it when he was a kid. How are he and Sandy doing?” She was dying to hear about that. She was so excited about his being there with her, and breaking up with Amanda. She was so relieved for him.

  “They’re getting along like a house afire. He’s so sweet to her, it’s really cute to watch. She’s never known anyone like him, except me.�
� He laughed. “The boys she meets around here are a little rough around the edges, especially on the music scene. Or they’re sucking up to me. Michael is a man, and he acts like one. He’s very protective of her.” Chase loved what he had seen, and it was easy to see how attracted they were to each other. They were always kissing and holding hands when they thought no one was watching. “I think we have a real romance on our hands here.” He was happy to see it. Her son was a lovely person, Chase trusted Sandy with him completely, and they had been very well behaved the night before. Michael had said goodnight to her in the garden, and had breakfast with Chase in his kitchen that day.

  He couldn’t stay on with Stephanie for long because they were going to the concert at the Grand Ole Opry, but she was thrilled with the report, and it boosted her spirits as she continued to change things around the house. And she ate dinner alone in the kitchen at ten o’clock, and sent Alyson an e-mail, thanking her for the party. She wondered what Chase and the others were doing at that moment, and wished she was there.

  —

  Michael told Chase that the Grand Ole Opry was everything he had expected and more, although he had enjoyed Chase’s concert even more the night before and loved watching Sandy perform. Just as it was for his mother, it was a whole new world for him. He met Randy Travis, Tim McGraw, Carrie Underwood, and Alan Jackson when he went out with Chase and Sandy afterward, and Chase’s son Derek had come for the night from Memphis and was staying with friends, and Michael enjoyed meeting him too. He was a smart guy, and good to talk to. And it was obvious how much he and Chase liked each other and enjoyed each other’s company.

  But the highlight of the weekend for Michael was Sandy. He was absolutely dazzled by her, and was mesmerized by her solo at Chase’s concert. She had a powerful voice that soared on the high notes like a gospel singer. Chase had taught her how to maximize the range of her voice. The crowd had gone wild when she finished, and so did he. And when she wasn’t working, they laughed and talked and had a great time together. It was so different from everything he’d experienced with Amanda, who was so much more intense than he wanted to be. Sandy was like a summer breeze, gentle on his cheek. And when he kissed her, it drove them both to the edge of passion, but they managed to stay within sane boundaries for the entire weekend, although with some difficulty. His body ached for her every time he touched her, and hers did the same. But Chase was impressed by how reasonable they were and how well they behaved. Michael was a responsible young man, and Chase wasn’t sure he could have done the same at his age.

  “I was a lot wilder than he was,” Chase told his mother. “You’ve got a good boy, Stevie.” She was proud of him too, and slightly concerned for Sandy. She was only eighteen, and Michael was seven years older. She had a long way to go, and a big career ahead of her, before she could settle down, no matter how in love they were, and Chase agreed.

  “It would be a shame if she gave up her career now to get married and have babies. It’s the only thing I’m afraid of for her. She shouldn’t give up the chance she has now to make it big.”

  “Michael won’t expect her to,” she reassured him, “and he’s not ready to settle down either.” That had been one of the problems with Amanda. That and the fact that she was the wrong girl for him.

  “He might be before she is, and it’s threatening for a guy to have a woman you love exposed to so many things, opportunities, and good-looking guys. It’s heady stuff. But she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

  “So does he,” Stephanie said, although all of this was new to him.

  When Michael went back to Atlanta on Monday night, he told Sandy before he left that he loved her, and she said it to him too. It had hit them with the speed of lightning, and gone off like rockets. He promised to come back in two weeks for the weekend, when the team had an away game. He couldn’t come before that, but Sandy looked like she was floating on air when she went back to her cottage after he left.

  She worked harder than ever for the next two weeks. She wanted to prove to Chase that she wasn’t going to let romance distract her or destroy her career. If anything, it would fuel it, and he was impressed, and he said as much to Michael when he returned.

  “You’re good for her. That’s the way it should be,” Chase said quietly. They were drinking a glass of wine by the pool, while Sandy was getting dressed to go out to dinner at the 1808 Grille. “A bad love life can really screw up your career, if you’re in a creative field. You can wind up too upset to work, although I always write more songs when I’m sad. But a good relationship can inspire you and give you strength.” And for the moment, Sandy was soaring. Chase hoped it would stay that way.

  Sandy came out of the cottage a few minutes later, and they left for dinner. Chase sat at the pool for a long time after that, thinking about Stevie and how much he missed her.

  And two days later he had a surprise for her. His agent had called him that morning. Stephanie had just gotten up when he called her, and was shuffling around her kitchen reorganizing the pots and pans and dishes.

  “What are you doing this weekend?” he asked her.

  “Cleaning out my garage. Why? I want to get rid of all the old tools that are broken and don’t work.” It had become a sacred mission now to weed through everything in her house.

  “Want help?” She didn’t know what he meant. She thought he was offering to hire someone for her, which would have been just like him.

  “No, I’m okay. I’m just taking my time. But thanks for the offer.” She was becoming more and more independent, and he could hear it. He didn’t mind, and he admired her for it.

  “That’s too bad,” he said, pretending to sound disappointed. “I thought I’d come out and give you a hand.” There was dead silence at her end as she absorbed it.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I am. I have meetings with a record label in L.A. next week. I thought I’d come to San Francisco first for the weekend, and we could go down to L.A. together.”

  “Oh my God.” She was beaming as she said it. It was all she wanted. She hadn’t seen him in weeks. “When?”

  “How soon do you want me?”

  “Now.” She was laughing and sounded excited. Her hands were shaking.

  “I’ll come tomorrow. That gives us four days together in your fair city before we go to L.A.” It was Wednesday, and he would be there on Thursday. “How long can you stay in L.A., or can I stay in San Francisco if we go back?”

  “Charlotte’s coming home in two weeks. I’m free till then.” And the homeless shelter was so flexible that she could make up the time.

  “I’ll stay till then,” he said, sounding as happy as she did.

  It felt like the best news she’d had in years. She could hardly wait to see him, and told Dr. Zeller about it that afternoon. Stephanie had already seen her several times since she got back from her road trip cross country. And the therapist always gave her something to think about.

  This time she asked her why she had never left Bill, after the affair, or even before that.

  “It doesn’t sound like you had a very satisfying life together. He was always busy, never at home. Even when he had free time, he spent it playing golf with clients or friends, and not with you. He wasn’t there for his children, and you had to cover for him and be mother and father to them a lot of the time. So what exactly did he give you? It doesn’t sound like sex was a big issue. So what kept you there?”

  “Dedication. Duty. Responsibility. The kids. I wanted to be a good wife. I didn’t want to deprive them of their father if I left. That was after the affair.”

  “Twenty-six years of dedication and duty. Wow, Stephanie. I’m impressed. Did you love him?”

  “Yes.” But she knew she hadn’t stayed because of love. Dr. Zeller made it clear that she didn’t believe her and wasn’t really as impressed as she said.

  “Any other reason you can think of?”

  “What about you?” Stephanie asked. “Why do you think
I stayed?” She seemed to doubt Stephanie’s word and had made that clear.

  “What about fear?”

  “Fear of Bill? Like he’d beat me up if I left?” That sounded ridiculous to her. Bill had never laid a hand on her nor threatened to. He wasn’t a violent man. If anything, he was disengaged and disconnected from her.

  “Fear of being alone,” Dr. Zeller said quietly, and Stephanie felt as if she’d been hit by a two-by-four in the solar plexus. She couldn’t breathe. “Fear of never finding anyone else. Of venturing out into the world. Your life with Bill was safe. You knew what you were dealing with. Fear of the unknown, a lack of confidence in yourself.” The therapist was well aware that Stephanie had already changed, or she would have never gone to Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and Nashville and driven cross country. She would never have dared to do anything like it six months before, before Bill’s death. Now she had lost her excuse not to, and was facing her fears at last. She sat in her chair for a long time with tears in her eyes and nodded as she looked at the therapist.

  “I think you’re right,” she said softly.

  Dr. Zeller nodded back with a smile. “So do I. You’re doing great, Stephanie,” she praised her. Stephanie was open to gaining insight into herself, and doing something about it. “Have fun with your country music star. He sounds like quite a guy.” She was aware that Stephanie hadn’t slept with him. They had talked about it when she got back. Stephanie didn’t feel ready, and the therapist knew it was up to Stephanie if she wanted to or not. It was her decision. And if she didn’t, someone else would come along. Of that Dr. Zeller was sure. She was a beautiful woman, with a fine mind, a good heart, and a lot more guts than she knew or gave herself credit for. And she was starting to open all the old doors and look at all the secrets buried there.