"Well, I know how you young doctors are. Always on the lookout for a better opportunity. You'll want your own practice, I'll bet. That's where the good money is."
"To tell you the truth, I enjoy my work at the clinic."
Ina looked doubtful. "Wait till a better offer comes along, I'm sure you'll change your mind then."
Derek tipped his head and his blue gaze grew pensive. Lee thought he was deciding whether to disagree or not. In the end, he only shrugged. "I suppose time will tell."
For dinner, Derek served them steaks and salad and baked potatoes slathered in sour cream and sprinkled with chives.
Lee teased him that he cooked just like a man.
"Well, he is a man, honey," her mother said. Then she smiled at Derek, a smile chock-full of admiration.
Lee told herself to be pleased that Ina liked Derek so much. But still, she continued to feel edgy and uncomfortable.
And she was glad when the evening finally came to a close.
Derek walked them down to the car and helped Ina into the passenger seat. Then he went around with Lee to her side of the car. He pulled her into his arms right there, by her door.
She murmured, half chiding, half pleased, "Derek…"
"Kiss me."
She did, a little reluctantly at first, since her mother was waiting in the car a few feet away. Her reluctance passed swiftly, as the kiss curled her toes and weakened her knees.
Before he let her go, he whispered, "Maybe you could make your mom comfortable at your house—and come on back here."
"Derek. You can get along without me for one night."
"But I don't want to get along without you for one night."
"Derek…"
"All right, all right." His strong arms dropped away and he opened her door for her. She slid into her seat and buckled up.
At Lee's house, Ina said, "Well, I guess I'll go ahead and get ready for bed." She trudged straight to the guest bedroom and closed the door. Lee stood in the living room for a moment, wondering why she felt so let down. The evening had gone better than Lee had expected. And Ina was tired.
And really, Lee and her mother had never had all that much to say to each other. In fact, Lee had always felt like more of a burden to her mother than anything else. She was the love child that Ina had felt duty-bound to raise. Ina had fed her and clothed her as best she could, and then seemed just a little bit relieved when Lee grew old enough to strike out on her own.
Lee had no reason to expect Ina to want to stay up past her bedtime now, to have a mother-daughter chat about Derek and marriage and what the future might hold. Besides, Ina's opinions always set Lee's teeth on edge, anyway. Some people looked at the world through rose-colored glasses. But Ina Murphy seemed to view everything through a dingy gray fog. Whatever Ina might say to Lee about her upcoming marriage, Lee probably wouldn't like.
So it was all to the good that Ina marched off to bed. In the morning, Lee would fix them breakfast. The breakfast conversation would be limited to requests for more coffee and remarks on the weather. Ina would leave before ten, eager to get back to her apartment in Salem. Being away from home made her nervous. She worried that someone might break in and steal all her things—or that a pipe might burst or the place would burn down.
Lee dropped her shoulder bag on the couch and headed for the kitchen. She would brew herself a nice cup of tea and watch the late news. And she would stop wishing for more than her mother could give.
She'd just pulled the mug full of hot water from the microwave when Ina spoke from behind her. "I'm going to bed now."
Lee turned. Ina had changed to her green quilted robe and her battered old slippers. Her face was shiny with night cream. Lee knew she should murmur a simple "Good night, Mom." But something inside her just wouldn't let well enough alone.
"Why don't you sit down? I'll make you some tea."
Ina pursed up her mouth. "Didn't I tell you, I can't take the caffeine?"
"I have herb tea, Mom. How about chamomile? It's one hundred percent free of caffeine."
Ina shook her head. "I don't really like chamomile. It tastes like some kind of weed to me."
Lee resolutely kept her smile. "All right. Good night, then."
Ina started to leave—and then turned back. "Lee."
Lee looked up from dipping a tea bag into the hot water. "Um?"
"I, well, I really do hope you're going to be careful about all this."
Lee felt tension, like a tightening cord, drawing her shoulder blades back. "About what?"
"About that doctor of yours."
"What do you mean, Mom?" Lee kept her voice light, though her stomach had suddenly decided to tie itself into a big, hard knot.
"Well, I'm just saying that I would hate to see you get hurt the way I've been hurt."
Lee set her tea on the counter. "What are you getting at?"
Ina sighed. She lifted a hand and fiddled with one of the big plastic buttons on the front of her robe. "Oh, dear."
Lee spoke more strongly. "Just say it. Just go ahead and say it."
Ina stopped fooling with the button. She clenched her hands at her sides. "Oh, Lee. You're getting mad at me."
Lee folded her arms over her middle and leaned back against the counter. "I want you to say what's on your mind."
Ina took a deep breath. "Well, I just … I worry, that's all."
"About me and Derek?"
"Yes. Oh, don't get me wrong. I thought he was wonderful. I honestly did. And such a gentleman, too."
"But?"
"Now, honey…"
"Go on. Tell me. You think he's wonderful, but…"
"Well, he's just starting out, isn't he?"
"So?"
"Things are bound to change for him over the next few years."
"How?"
"Well, I'm sure he's got loans to pay back, from medical school and all. He'll start thinking how much quicker he could get rid of those, how much nicer he could live, if he found himself a fancy private practice somewhere." Ina lifted her hand again, found that button, and began twisting it. "That clinic you work at together will start to seem like a dead end to him. He'll want different things than he thinks he wants now."
"You mean he'll stop wanting me."
"Honey, all I'm saying is, he's barely finished his residency and—"
"You make him sound like a child, Mother. He's in his thirties, for crying out loud."
"Barely in his thirties, I'll bet."
Lee realized that she didn't know Derek's exact age. "What does it matter? Thirty is old enough to be sure of what you want. I'm thirty, for heaven's sake."
"Well, but … he's so handsome. He must have a lot of women after him. And let's be honest. You're…" Ina stopped twisting that button. She dropped her hand to her side again and looked away. "Oh, listen. Never mind."
But Lee couldn't stop herself from prompting, "I'm what, Mom?"
Ina chewed her inner lip, the way she always did when she was really upset. At her sides, her hands clenched and unclenched. "Oh, I never should have said a word about this. I can see that. I should have kept my big mouth shut."
Lee demanded for the second time, "I'm what, Mom?"
"Honey…"
"I'm ordinary? Is that what you were going to say? I'm plain? I'm ugly?"
"No. I did not say you were ugly."
"But you don't think I'm good enough for a man like Derek, a doctor like Derek."
Ina coughed. "Well, now. Whatever. You know what I mean."
"No. No, I do not know what you mean. I think you'd better tell me."
"Lee, all I'm saying is, you have a good job. You can take care of yourself. Much better than I ever could, that's for certain. You've always seemed perfectly happy, leading an independent kind of life. Why go and complicate things, that's all I'm asking? Why get your hopes up over someone who's so … different from you?"
"So far out of my league, you mean? So much better than me?"
"Lee…
"
"That is what you mean. Isn't it?"
Ina quit clenching her hands and began rubbing them nervously down the sides of her robe. "I've really made you mad. I can see that. And I didn't want to make you mad. I just wanted—"
"What, Mother? What exactly did you want?"
"For you to be careful. For you not to rush into anything."
Lee stared at her mother across the width of the small kitchen. She reminded herself of the facts: Ina was a fearful person, a person who worried incessantly, who always felt ill, who never, ever saw any glass as more than half-empty. Ina was a woman who had taken one big chance in her life—on Lee's father—and ended up pregnant and alone as a result.
Naturally she would see Lee's situation as paralleling her own.
And doesn't it? a scared, small voice in the back of Lee's mind kept asking. Aren't her situation and mine very close to the same?
Ina lifted both hands and pressed her fingers to her temples, "I have to get my medicine. I feel a migraine coming on." She turned and shuffled toward the spare room.
Lee just couldn't let her go like that. She followed after her, made her lie down and got the Fiorcet tab for her, along with some water to wash it down.
"Thank you, honey," Ina said with a weary sigh, as Lee turned off the light. Then she spoke from out of the darkness. "You probably shouldn't listen to me. You know how I am. I worry. I worry way too much."
Lee smoothed the dry, wiry hair away from her mother's forehead. "It's all right. Just get some sleep."
"Yes. Sleep. That would be good…"
Breakfast the next morning went pretty much as Lee had expected. No sensitive subjects were broached. Ina remarked that it looked as if it might rain later.
"I just hate to drive in bad weather. I need to get on the road, see if I can get home before it really starts coming down."
Lee didn't even bother to point out that the weather channel had predicted a light drizzle at worst.
"I hope everything's all right at my apartment," Ina muttered. "You just never know, if you go away, what you'll find when you get home…"
Ina left at nine-fifteen. Lee stood on the sidewalk, waving as her mother drove away. Then she returned to the house and thought about calling Derek.
But really, hadn't they been spending too much time together lately? They didn't have to act like Siamese twins just because he'd asked her to marry him. They worked side by side Monday through Friday and then, for the past week, they'd spent every night excluding last night wrapped in each other's arms. They needed to have their own lives, didn't they?
Lee cleaned up the breakfast dishes, got her gym bag and headed for Optimum Fitness. She arrived back home at a little before noon. The phone was ringing as she let herself in the door.
It was Derek. "What does a guy have to do to get his fiancée to call him?"
Lee felt the flush of pleasure at the sound of his voice—and then a certain wary defensiveness. "I call you."
"Not as much as I call you."
"I didn't know we were keeping score."
A silence. "Hey. Is this a stupid thing to argue about, or what?"
Lee flopped onto the couch. "You're right. Let's not argue. How old are you, exactly?"
"Thirty-three. Why?"
"I just realized I didn't know."
"Well, now you do. Feel better?"
She didn't, not really. But she found herself chirping pertly, "Much."
"What are you doing?"
"Talking to you on the phone."
"No kidding. What I meant was, where's your mom?"
"She left."
"Do you think she enjoyed herself last night?"
"Sure. As much as my mother is capable of enjoying anything."
He chuckled, the sound low and nimbly and warm. "I've got to admit, she's no optimist."
"She's a hopeless hypochondriac, not to mention obsessive-compulsive. But it's not as if she's a bad person. And she hasn't had an easy time of it in her life."
"I thought the dinner went pretty well, though. Didn't you?"
Lee thought of Ina, standing in the kitchen doorway, rubbing her hands down the sides of her robe and telling Lee that she wasn't good enough to marry Derek. "It went fine, yes."
He was silent again, then he asked, "Is something going on here that I should know about?"
"Why?"
"You don't sound right."
"Oh, really? And just how should I sound?"
"It's not how you should sound. It's whatever you're thinking that you're not saying."
"There's nothing." It was a bald lie. But really, Lee had no desire at all to reveal to Derek what her mother had said last night. It was all just stuff she'd already said to him herself, back before they'd become lovers: that, in the end, he wasn't going to be satisfied with someone like her, that what they shared couldn't last. What good would it do for her to tell him that her mother had the same doubts as she did?
No good at all that Lee could see.
Better to simply forget it, to put it behind her.
"Lee, are you sure there's nothing wrong?"
She forced a lighter tone. "Positive. And I'm sorry I didn't call. And when can I see you again?"
"I thought you'd never ask. Come over here."
"When?"
"Now."
"Well, I've got some laundry to do and I—"
"Lee. No man wants to hear how a woman would rather do laundry than rush to his side."
"I wouldn't rather do laundry. But it does pile up, you know?"
He made a low, aggravated sound. "When can you get here?"
"About four?"
"I guess that'll have to do."
That night, after dinner, when they were sitting on Derek's sofa with their arms around each other, Derek suggested, "Let's set a date."
Lee knew what he meant, but still she stalled. "A date?"
"For the wedding. You know. You in a white dress. Me in a black tux. Lots of flowers. A long walk down a church aisle."
"You want to set a date already?"
A crease formed between his perfect brows as he pulled away enough to look down at her. "Lee. That's what I just said. Let's set a date."
"But, Derek, I…" She tried to think of the right words to say.
"What?" Impatience tightened the corners of his mouth.
"I really think we should take it kind of slow." He pulled back a little farther. "What does that mean, kind of slow?"
"It means we shouldn't set a date right away."
"Why not?"
"Well, this is all happening so fast, don't you think?"
He considered her question, then shook his head. "No, not really. We've known each other for almost a year."
"Seven months."
"Almost a year," he said, running right over her, his tone playful. "And you've been absolutely nuts about me for … how long would you say?"
"Derek." She tried to sound firm. "Don't flaunt your ego at me. It's your most unattractive feature, if you want to know the truth."
He grew more serious. "I know what I want, Lee. You. As my wife. Now."
"But … how long will you want that?"
"For the rest of our lives."
"How can you be sure about that? Maybe I'm just kind of a … novelty for you. Someone different than your average gorgeous, shapely blonde."
He got that stiff, the-doctor-knows-everything look he used to wear often, back before she really came to know him. "I would not be asking you to marry me if you were just a novelty."
"Well, of course you wouldn't consciously think that I was just a novelty. It might be something you wouldn't even realize, until you started getting bored with me and—"
He sat back all the way, to the far end of the couch. "What the hell is going on?"
"I just … I don't want to rush this. I want to take it slow. Please."
"You are not a damn novelty to me."
"All right. Fine. I'm not a novelty. But I still don't w
ant us to rush into marriage."
He looked at her for a long time. Then he asked, "How long do you want to wait?"
"A few months?"
"Before we even set a date?"
"A lot of people stay engaged for a year or more."
"That's no kind of argument, and you know it."
"Derek. Please…"
"You're not being straight with me."
"Just give me more time."
Again, he was silent. But then, finally, he nodded. "All right. We won't set the date yet. You take the time you need. But don't take too long." He smiled, rather ruefully. "I might start to think you don't really want to marry me at all."
* * *
Chapter Seventeen
« ^ »
The doorbell rang at two-thirty the next morning. Derek and Lee were sound asleep in Derek's bed. He sat up as Lee yanked the covers over her head. The bell rang again.
Derek swung his feet to the floor. He reached for his Jockeys, which he'd slung over a corner chair, along with his slacks and shirt.
"What's goin' on?" Lee peeked out at him from under the covers. He got the Jockeys on and then couldn't resist stopping long enough to find her soft mouth and kiss it. She sighed and nibbled his bottom lip.
The bell rang again.
She reached out those slim, pale arms of hers and wrapped them around his neck. "Mmm. Kiss me again like that."
"Lee. The doorbell…"
"Don't answer it."
Regretfully he peeled her arms away. "Have to." He planted one last kiss on her nose. "You know how I am about phones and doorbells."
She canted up on an elbow and watched him through droopy eyes as he yanked on his slacks and zipped them up. "Hurry back."
"I will." He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head as he started for the door.
It was ringing steadily when he reached it. He looked through the peephole.
His brother, his face wreathed in cigarette smoke and distorted to fun-house proportions by the peephole glass, squinted back at him. The bell went on ringing. Larry must be leaning on the damn button.
Swiftly Derek shot back the dead bolt and turned the knob lock. He flung open the door.
Larry stopped pressing the doorbell. He was weaving on his feet. His mouth turned up in a goofy, pie-eyed grin. "Hey, li'l brother." The cigarette dangling from his lips bobbed up and down with every word. "Was beginnin' to wonner if you were even home."
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