The Dream Unfolds

by Barbara Delinsky

  Sleepily she nodded. “This is so nice. I’m so glad we came here.”

  “Me, too.” He paused, figuring he’d take a different, less direct tack this time. “Hard to believe the week’s almost done. I could take this on a regular basis for the next thirty or forty years.”

  Even in her half-dreamy state, Chris knew what he meant. “There’s something about ski country. The air is so clear. So cold. So invigorating. It’s so warm coming inside.”

  “When I grow up,” Gideon said, “I’m going to buy a place, maybe not as far north as this, but closer, so I can use it on weekends.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her eyebrows, first one, then the other. “What do you think? Make any sense?”

  Chris thought the idea sounded divine. “What kind of place?” she asked, dreaming wide awake now.

  “Something old. With charm.”

  “A Victorian on the edge of a town green, with the white spire of a church at one end and the stone chimney of the local library at the other.”

  “You got it. I’d do the place over inside myself, so that it had every modern convenience. I’d break down walls so everything was open, and redo the fireplace so you could see the fire front and back. I’d put in lofts and skylights and spiral stairways and—”

  “A Jacuzzi.”

  “You’d like one?”

  “Definitely.”

  “We’ve never made love in a Jacuzzi.”

  “I know.” Chris let herself imagine it. “I’d like to.”

  He was getting hard just thinking of it. “So would I.”

  “You should have put one in when you built your house.”

  “But I hadn’t met you then. Real men don’t soak in tubs unless there’s a woman with them, and you’re the only woman I’ve ever entertained at my house.”

  “The only one?”

  “Only one. I love you.”

  She smiled helplessly. “I know.”

  “How ’bout you?”

  “I’m workin’ on it,” she teased.

  But he was serious. “How far have you come?”

  “I’m at the point,” she said, “of being happier with you than I’ve ever been before in my life.” There were times when she felt delirious inside, so pleased and excited that she didn’t know what to do with her excess energy.

  “How far is that from being in love?”

  “Pretty close, I guess.”

  “How long will it take to make ‘pretty close’ there?”

  “I don’t know.” That was where things got hairy, because she knew what was coming next.

  “I need you, Chris,” he said in the slow, rumbling voice that she’d come to associate with Gideon at his most intense. “I want to be with you morning and night for the rest of my life. I want us to get married.”

  She’d heard him ask her before, of course, but in the afterglow of loving, she’d pushed it from her mind. She couldn’t do that now. She looked up at him to answer, then was momentarily stunned by the look in his eyes. They were so filled with love—and desperation—that she had to fight for a breath.

  Coming up over him, she kissed him softly. Her forearms, resting on his chest, held her in position to meet his gaze. “I never thought I’d say this, I really didn’t, because marriage wasn’t something I ever spent much time considering, but I could almost see myself marrying you, Gideon. I could. I feel so much for you that it overwhelms me sometimes.”

  “That’s love.”

  “Maybe. But I have to be sure. For me, and for you, and for Jill. I have to know it’ll last.”

  “It’ll last.”

  “So says every couple when they exchange wedding vows, but look at the statistics. I thought I was in love once, and I wasn’t.”

  “You were too young to know what love was about. You’re older now.”

  “We’re both older. Look at you. You’re almost forty. You were married once, and it didn’t work, and now you’ve been single for years. Is what you feel for me different from what you felt for your first wife?”

  “Totally,” he said with conviction. “I never wanted to spend all my time with her, not even at the beginning. She had a limited time and place in my life. I had my friends, my business, my games, and I didn’t want her to have any part of them. With you, I’m passing up all those other things just to be with you.”

  “You shouldn’t—”

  “I want to. I’d much rather be with you than be with anyone else. I’d much rather be with you than be alone. My first marriage wasn’t fun. Being with you is. Know what I want?” The look in his eyes was precious in its enthusiasm.

  “What?”

  “I want us to work together all the time. We’d be partners. I build, you decorate. Would you like that?”

  She would, a whole lot, but her throat was so tight that she could only nod her answer.

  He ran his finger over her lips. “I want to make you happy, Chris, and that’s another thing that’s different from the first time. I never thought about making Julie happy. I was almost defiant about going on with my life as though marriage didn’t change it at all.” He made a small sound. “I’m not even married to you yet, and my life has changed. Everything I do is geared to when I’ll be seeing you again, and I love it that way.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Johnny thinks I’m sick. We were having a sandwich at the diner the other day and these two women came in. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes went by and he started looking at me strangely.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he thought they were real lookers and I wasn’t even interested. I guess they were pretty, but that’s all. Hell, I don’t even wink at Cookie anymore!”

  “Poor Cookie.”

  “Yeah, she was kinda hurt.”

  “You have my permission to wink. There’s no harm in that.”

  “But winking is a kind of come-on. It’s like me saying, ‘I’m a man, and I think you’re cute.’ But I’m not thinking about anyone else being cute anymore. No one but you.”

  “Oh, Gideon.”

  “I’ve even thought about living arrangements. We could buy a piece of land halfway between Worcester and Belmont, something really pretty, big and wooded. There’re lots of bedroom communities with good schools for Jill—”

  “I can’t change her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s in high school. She’s with friends she’s grown up with, and they’re just getting to the fun years. It’d be cruel to take her away from that.”

  “Then we’ll live in Belmont until she’s done with high school, and in the meanwhile we can be building our dream house—”

  She pressed a hand to his mouth. “Shh.”

  “What?”

  “You’re being too accommodating.”

  “That’s the point. I love you, so I want to be accommodating.”

  “But I can’t be accommodating back!” she cried. “Don’t you see? You’re right about love meaning that, but I’m not free to love that way. I have Jill. I want things to be so right for her in the next few years.”

  Gideon felt that they had circled around and were right back to the point where they’d been weeks before. It was frustrating, but he wasn’t about to give up. “I want things right for her, too. My coming into your life doesn’t have to change anything.”

  “But it will. It will. And then if something goes wrong—”

  “What something?”

  “With our relationship, and there’d be tension and upset. I don’t want to subject Jill to that. She’s been so good about not having a father.”

  “But that’s another thing,” he went on. “You could give her a father, if you wanted. Me.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  Gideon let the words sink in, along with the look on Chris’s face. The moment was enlightening. “You feel guilty about that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I feel guilty.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her. “After all you’ve given Jill, the last thing y
ou should be feeling is guilty. My God, Chris, you’ve been a saint.”

  “Not quite,” she murmured, though she liked hearing him say it.

  “Jill has had more love than most kids with two parents get. She wouldn’t be as well adjusted if that weren’t so.”

  “I want her to stay well adjusted.”

  “So do I,” he said, and let it go at that. He knew from experience that where Jill’s welfare was concerned, Chris was unyielding. It was simply going to be up to him, over the next weeks and months, to show her that he’d be good for Jill, too.

  9

  Gideon had the best of intentions. When he took Chris to a movie, he suggested Jill bring a friend along. When a foot of snow fell and school was canceled, he drove in from Worcester with a toboggan and took them all sliding. When Jill wanted to buy a gift for Chris’s birthday, he took her to not one mall, not two, but three before she found what she wanted. And he was thrilled to do it. He genuinely enjoyed Jill. And he thought she enjoyed him.

  Chris did, too. Jill looked forward to seeing him. At other times, though, she was more quiet than usual. More than once, when she was at the kitchen table doing homework at night and Chris was nearby, talking softly on the phone to Gideon, she sensed Jill looking at her, sensed a pensiveness that had nothing to do with schoolwork. At times, she thought that pensiveness was brooding, but when she asked, Jill shook her head in denial.

  March came, then April, and Chris began to worry in earnest. Jill just wasn’t herself. She was doing fine in school, and her social life was as active as ever, but at home she was definitely distracted. She continued to deny there was a problem, and Chris could only push so far. She thought, though, that it might be wise for them to spend some time alone together. They hadn’t done it much of late, what with Chris’s work—she was up to her ears with orders both for the model condo at Crosslyn Rise and the mansion, itself—and Gideon’s presence. So, over dinner at home one midweek night, she broached the topic.

  “Any thoughts on vacation, Jill?” When Jill set down her fork, alert but silent, Chris said, “I was thinking that we could go down to New York for a few days.”

  “New York?”

  “Uh-huh. Just the two of us. We could shop, eat out, maybe take in a show or two. Would you like that?”

  Jill lifted her fork again and pushed a piece of chicken around the plate.

  “Jill?”

  The fork settled. Looking young and vulnerable, Jill met her gaze. “I was thinking I’d use that vacation for something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to meet my father.”

  Chris felt the blood leave her face. Of all the things she’d imagined Jill wanting to do, that wasn’t one. “Your father?”

  “He’s out there. I want to meet him.”

  “Uh, uh, what—” she cleared her throat “—what brought this on?”

  Jill shrugged. “I’m curious.”

  “Is this what’s been getting you down lately?”

  “Not getting me down. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I really want to know who he is. I want to see him.”

  Chris felt dizzy. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Uh, honey, I don’t know where he is.”

  “You said he was in Arizona,” Jill shot back in an accusing tone.

  Chris tried to be conciliatory. “He was, last time I heard, but that was second- or thirdhand, and years ago.”

  “Where in Arizona?”

  “Phoenix.”

  “So I could start looking there.”

  “In person?”

  “Of course not. I’d call Directory Assistance. How many Brant Conways can there be?”

  “Lots.”

  “Okay. You said he sells real estate. There must be some state list of people who do that. If he was there even ten years ago, he must have worked with someone who’s kept in touch with him. I could find all that out on the phone.”

  Chris realized that Jill had given the possibilities a certain amount of very adult thought. She wondered how far that adult thought had gone. “And then what?”

  “Then I’ll call him, then fly out to see him during vacation.”

  “What if he doesn’t want that?”

  “Then we’ll arrange another time to meet.”

  “What if he doesn’t want that, either?”

  “Then we’ll arrange something else. There has to be some way we can get together.”

  Chris studied the napkin she was clutching so tightly in her lap. “Has it occurred to you that he might not want to see you?”

  Sounding defiant but subdued, Jill said, “Yes. And if he doesn’t, I won’t go.”

  “But you’ll be hurt in the process. I don’t want that, Jill. I’ve tried to protect you from hurt. You don’t need Brant. Trust me. You have everything that’s good for you here, without him.”

  “But he’s my father.”

  “Biologically, yes. Beyond that, he’s nothing to you.”

  “He may be a very nice man.”

  “He may be, but he has his own life and you have yours.”

  “I don’t want to be in his life. I just want to meet him.”

  Chris had always recognized the possibility of that, but she had kept it a very distant thought. Suddenly it was real and near, and she wasn’t prepared to handle it.

  She felt betrayed. She knew it was wrong. But that was how she felt.

  “Why now?” she asked, half to herself.

  “I already told you that.”

  But she had a sudden, awful suspicion. “It has something to do with Gideon, doesn’t it?”

  “What could it have to do with him?”

  “He’s the first man I’ve been interested in. In the past few weeks, he’s probably come as close as you’ve ever come to having a father around.” She’d known it. Damn it, she’d known something would happen. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “I like Gideon. I like being with him.”

  “But he’s made you think of your father.”

  “It’s not Gideon’s fault.”

  But Chris had known. She’d known. Bolting from the table, she started pacing the room. “I told him it was too much, too fast. I asked him to slow things down, but did he? No. He knew what was best.”

  “Mom—”

  “Over and over, I asked him to be patient. I told him I didn’t want anything upsetting you. I told him you needed time.”

  “Mom—”

  “The big expert, sticking his nose into other people’s business.”

  “Mom.” She was twisted around in her chair. When Chris looked at her, she said, “This is not Gideon’s fault! I love Gideon. He loves you, and you love him.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You do! I see it every night. It’s written all over your face when you talk to him on the phone. And I think it’s great. I want you to love him. I want you to marry him. I think it’d be fun to be a family. That’s something I could never have with my father, and I accept that. I don’t want anything with him. I like what I have. I just want to meet the man, so that I’ll know who he is and who I am. Then I can be a stepdaughter to Gideon.”

  There had been certain times over the years when Chris had found motherhood to be overwhelmingly emotional. One had been when she’d first been presented her gooey, scrunched-up baby girl, another when Jill had gone off on the school bus for the very first time, another when Jill had had the lead in the middle school’s musical production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Intense pride always affected Chris.

  Intense pride was what she felt at that moment, along with a bit of humility. Fighting back tears, she put her arm around Jill and gave her a tight hug. “You are incredible.”

  Jill hugged her back. “I do love you, Mom. I’ll always love you. I don’t think I could ever love him, but I want to know who he is.”

  Regaining a modicum of composure, Chris slid back into her chair. She wanted to think clearly, wanted Jill to do the same. “
I don’t really know much about him. If he has a slew of other children, how will you feel?”

  “Okay.”

  “What if he’s big and bald and fat?”

  “Haven’t you been the one to always tell me not to judge a book by its cover?”

  “But this is your father. You may be fantasizing that he’s some kind of god—”

  “If he were that, he’d have come for me, not the other way around.” She took a breath, seeming strong now that she’d aired what had clearly been weighing so heavily on her mind. “Mom, I’m not looking for someone to take your place, and I’m not looking for another place to live. I just want to meet my father. Once I’ve seen him, I’ll know who he is and that he exists, and that he knows I exist. Then I can go on with my life.”

  * * *

  The words were all correct. They were grown-up and sensible. Chris knew that, but the knowledge was small solace for the fear she felt. Jill had been her whole life, and vice versa, for so long, that the thought of Brant intruding in any way was upsetting. She sensed that, for the first time, there was a crack in her relationship with Jill—not a crack as in hostility, but one as in growing up and separating. That too was inevitable, but Chris wasn’t ready for it.

  Nor was she ready for Gideon when he called that night. “I’m really tired. Why don’t we connect later in the week.”

  He was immediately concerned. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  When he called the next night, she didn’t claim fatigue, but she was quiet, answering his questions as briefly as possible, not offering anything extra. “Is something wrong?” he finally asked after five minutes of trying to pull her usual enthusiasm from her.

  “Of course not. What could be wrong?”

  He didn’t know. But he knew she wasn’t herself, and he feared that what was upsetting her had to do with him. “You sound angry.”

  “Not angry. Just busy.”

  “At ten o’clock at night?”

  “I’m trying to get some papers in order. I have a slew of deliveries coming for five different jobs, and if the invoices get messed up—”

  “I thought Margie took care of paperwork like that.”

  “Margie isn’t involved the way I am, and I want these things to be right. If there are screwups, I’ll have to be cleaning them up at the same time that Crosslyn Rise is picking up—”