by Jane Peart
When Mark came back after putting Ginny to bed, she asked, “All settled?”
“Yes. The last drink of water, the last hug, all settled.” He grinned and sat down on the sofa beside her.
“She’s a treasure, Mark.”
“Yep, a great kid.” He nodded. “By the way, I’ve made a decision. And you’re responsible.”
Coryn looked surprised. “Me? How?”
“I’ve decided to let Ginny have a pet. A kitten is what she wants.”
“I really think it will be good for her, Mark.”
“Will you go with us, help us pick one out?”
“Sure. I’d love to. The animal shelter always has dozens of kittens available. They have their shots and everything. They’re ready to take home.”
“If I regret this, I’ll know who to blame,” he teased. “Ginny’s not above using you to nag me, you know. ‘Coryn had a dog when she was a little girl.’“ Mark imitated Ginny’s childish tone.
Coryn laughed. “I don’t think you’ll regret it, Mark. Making a child happy has to be the best possible thing to do.”
“Yes, that’s true,” he agreed.
“You’ve done a great job, Mark. Ginny’s a wonderful little girl,” Coryn added.
“Thanks. She had a good start. Shari was a superby mother. I also have to give Mrs. Aguilar lots of credit. Ginny’s like one of her own grandchildren to her.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Mark. Girls have a special relationship with their fathers. I know. And Ginny absolutely adores you.”
Mark put another log on the fire, then came to sit beside Coryn on the sofa. He didn’t say anything for a minute, then sighed and said, “It still doesn’t make up for not having a mother.”
“Of course not, but—” Coryn started to suggest that maybe some day there would be someone else, not to take Shari’s place, but to make up for that loss by creating another place in Ginny’s life, an important but different place. But she stopped herself from saying that. It would seem too intrusive, too selfasserting. Besides, she asked herself, would I be ready to take all this on even if Mark was thinking of me?
Another silence fell between them. The flames of the new log flared brightly and the wood crackled as it burned. There was a certain intimacy simply sitting together in the firelight. Coryn was very conscious of Mark’s nearness. A kind of inner tremor shot through her, an inner knowing. Mark was a man she could trust, someone she could fall in love with. That sudden conviction made her nervous and she shifted her position, moving a little away from him. At almost the same time, his arm went around her shoulder. Then he kissed her. There had been no anticipation that it would happen and yet no hesitation. It seemed as natural as breathing. It was a good kiss, a satisfying kiss without being demanding. A kiss that held a promise she found exciting.
Suddenly the bell chime of the marine clock in the hallway struck ten. Was it sounding a warning for her heart? She sat up, moving out of the circle of Mark’s arm, “Time for me to go.”
As he helped her on with her coat, she said, “It’s been a wonderful day, Mark.”
“There’ll be others I hope, Coryn,” he said in a low voice.
He turned her around and drew her close and kissed her again. The kiss was slow, very sweet. When it ended, she stepped back and they looked at each other smiling. As if acknowledging there would be other kisses just as there would be other times.
He walked her out to her car, opened the door so she could slide in the driver’s seat.
Although she had not planned to, she put her arm around his neck, drew his head forward and very deliberately kissed him on the mouth. “Today was very special, Mark.”
Driving home through the dark streets Coryn felt happy. It had been such a fantastic evening, so right, so natural to be with Mark and Ginny. As if somehow it was something they’d done before and might go on doing.
Cooking supper together had been fun. Ginny had made the hamburger patties, shaping the meat into flat circles with little hands, for Mark to grill. They all had made the salad, laughing as they took turns adding cut up carrots, celery, bits of broccoli to the bowl of torn lettuce, making jokes about a “tossed salad.” It was a joy to hear Ginny laugh, to see the tender amusement in Mark’s eyes observing her.
It had felt so cozy, like a family. Maybe that was dangerous thinking. After her experiences of dating in L.A. Coryn had almost given up on the idea that men of character and commitment were still around. A man like Mark Emery would be easy to fall in love with. What she wasn’t ready for was to be hurt again. But then love sometimes just happened.
At the memory of Mark’s kiss Coryn smiled as she turned into the driveway. Ready or not, maybe she had already fallen in love with Mark Emery.
* * *
Mark stood on the sidewalk watching Coryn’s car make a boulevard stop, the taillight blinking as she made the turn, then he walked slowly back into the house.
He made himself a cup of coffee and brought it into the living room. He felt somewhat uneasy.
Today had been really wonderful. He’d felt happier than he had for a long time. Although he was undeniably attracted to Coryn Dodge, he wondered if getting seriously involved with anyone was the right thing to do. Sometimes he thought it would be best if he didn’t get into a serious relationship with anyone until Ginny was older. Grown up even. Ginny had lost her mother and sometimes seeing her longing for that special presence in her life made his heart ache. But other times he thought it was best if some other woman didn’t try to fill that empty place.
Yet he felt a deep-seated loneliness. The need, the longing, to share his life with someone was strong. But was Coryn Dodge the one? Was he getting in too deep, too fast with Coryn? He didn’t want to make a mistake. It was too important a step. Maybe, he’d better slow down, be cautious.
Chapter Fourteen
A week went by, then two. Mark hadn’t called. Coryn was wracked with all kinds of doubts.
Why hadn’t he called? Was he on assignment, out of town? Maybe Ginny was sick. Some childhood illness, like chicken pox or mumps? Still, he would have called, wouldn’t he? He must have seen how fond she’d become of his little girl. She would have sent her a funny get-well card or a book or a game she could play in bed.
As each day passed, Coryn had to wonder if she’d handled things wrong again. With Mark, as she had with Jason. Come on too strong, seemed too eager? But with Mark, everything had felt so natural. So relaxed. So right. There’d been a spontaneous camaraderie, shared interests.
There was definite physical attraction, as well. She was sure of that. His kiss the evening they’d gone to the play, the kiss on the beach, the kiss that evening they’d spent together at his house. That had not been a casual kiss. It had awareness, excitement and passion. Passion held in check, but nevertheless, it had been there. What’s more, Mark couldn’t have mistaken her response to the kiss. Had she opened herself up too soon? Maybe that was it.
She’d thought a lot about relationships since Jason. She’d decided that Jason’s rules of no strings, no commitment was shallow and wrong. Integrity, generosity, accountability was what she was looking for, what she wanted to give. Mark had too much character to play games.
By the end of the second week she hadn’t heard from him, Coryn gave up making excuses. There could be any number of reasons. She wasn’t going to allow herself to brood. She hated that she had regressed to listening for the phone, hoping Mark would call. Nonetheless, one afternoon when the phone rang she jumped to answer it.
“Hello.” She sounded breathless, eager, even to herself. However, it was a woman friend of her mother’s. Disappointment washed over her.
“Coryn? Is that you? It’s Lucy Prentis. Is your mother on her way?” Her voice sounded extremely annoyed. “We’ve been waiting forty-five minutes.”
“On her way?” Coryn repeated vaguely.
“Yes, of course.” The irritation in Mrs. Prentis’s voice increased. “This is our bridge d
ay. The four of us have been playing bridge twice a month for nearly fifteen years. This is the second time your mother hasn’t shown up.”
Coryn felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. “She isn’t here, Mrs. Prentis. Maybe she had an appointment…I really don’t know.”
“An appointment? None of us ever make an appointment on our bridge day.” The woman’s tone was full of exasperation. “I simply don’t understand it, Coryn. She could have at least called so we could have gotten a substitute. As it is…we’ve wasted another—”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Prentis.”
“Never mind. It’s not your fault. I just wish if Clare has something else she’d rather do on these days, she would say so. Not ruin it for all of us.”
Coryn didn’t know what to say. Lucy Prentis and her mother had been close friends for as long as she could remember. It seemed odd that her mother would have forgotten a long-standing bridge date. Then she felt that elevator-drop feeling in the pit of her stomach. Or was it so odd? Not in light of the other puzzling incidents Clare had exhibited in the time Coryn had been home.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Prentis,” Coryn said. “I’ll tell Mom you called.”
The phone clicked. Coryn could imagine the expression on Lucy Prentis’s face as she went back to the bridge table to inform the other two ladies that Clare had done it again.
Coryn put down the receiver. She felt a kind of sick jolt. She’d been so self-absorbed lately, preoccupied, she hadn’t been aware that her mother might be having problems again. As she stood thinking about it, the back door opened and Clare walked in wearing an old sweater, jeans, gardening gloves. Her face had a smudge of dirt on one cheek and she had on a battered canvas hat. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. Seeing Coryn, she smiled. “I’ve been planting bulbs. They’ll be gorgeous in the spring, grape hyacinths and jonquils.”
Coryn started to tell her about Mrs. Prentis’s irate call but something held her back. Her mother looked so happy she didn’t have the heart. She would find out soon enough. Lucy Prentis wasn’t known for tact.
Her mother seemed perfectly normal. Coryn was lulled into thinking that some of this might have to do with menopause. When she looked up symptoms for this what she learned felt rather reassuring. The severity of problems depended on the individual woman.
For the next ten days Coryn’s attention focused on her mother. But even under this alerted observation Clare seemed normal. She went about the house doing the usual things. Perhaps she was a little quieter, a little distant, but on the whole herself.
Late one afternoon her mother tapped on Coryn’s bedroom door, leaned in to say she was leaving to go to the grocery store. An hour later when Coryn went downstairs she found Clare sitting in the kitchen, staring blankly, her eyes confused, her expression troubled. Her car keys and grocery list were on the table in front of her.
When Coryn came in, her mother looked at her. “Darling, the craziest thing, I can’t remember where the grocery store is. I’ve driven around, but I keep turning down the wrong streets, I just don’t know…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head helplessly.
Coryn felt a clutching sensation. She seemed to go on automatic. Somehow her voice managed to sound steady as she asked, “Do you still shop at ReddiRite?”
“Yes, of course. I always have. That’s what makes this so insane.” Her mother was genuinely baffled.
Gathering herself together quickly, Coryn asked, “Well, don’t worry, Mom. I’ll drive you.” She attempted a laugh. “I think I remember how to get there.”
Clare still looked unconvinced. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I feel so foolish.” She sounded exasperated, but she didn’t protest Coryn’s offer to take her.
The supermarket where they had shopped for groceries for as long as Coryn could remember was only a short distance away. It was, however, nearly five o’clock and the parking lot was crowded with late shoppers and people shopping after work. Coryn finally found a space, pulled in and turned off the engine.
Instead of immediately getting out of the car, Clare remained sitting there. “Want me to go in and help you, Mom?” Coryn said after a moment.
“Oh, honey, I don’t know. Suddenly, I’m not feeling so well. Would you shop for me?”
Again Coryn felt a rush of anxiety. “Sure, Mom. Give me your list. I’ll make quick work of it.”
Her mother fumbled in her handbag and brought out a long slip of paper, and gave it to Coryn.
“Will you be okay? Would you like me to get a cola out of the soft-drink dispenser for you to sip while I shop?”
“I’ll be fine, dear. I’ll just roll down the window, get some fresh air.”
Inside the store, Coryn looked at the list and had another shock. Her mother’s handwriting was almost illegible. The scribbled items staggered crookedly down the page. It was hardly coherent. She’d just have to play it by ear, Coryn decided, pocketing the list. She grabbed a cart and started down the first aisle.
She felt breathless, disoriented. If only she had someone to talk to about her mother. Someone objective and not as involved in the situation as her father, someone with whom she could discuss her worry. But who? Mark’s name came to her. If anyone, he would be the one compassionate enough, sensible enough. Mark would be the one, if she told anyone…
It was then that she saw two familiar figures just ahead of her, Mark and Ginny. She started to hurry to catch up with them then stopped herself. She felt awkward. It had been over three weeks since that evening at their home that had seemed so comfortable, so mutually enjoyable. She’d hoped-no, more than that, expected him to make another date. For just the two of them to go out to dinner, where they could talk. She had felt they were on the brink of something to be explored.
Suddenly Coryn was stricken with feelings of insecurity. Maybe she’d read too much into their being together. She had felt happy and hopeful. She loved Ginny, too. Had already begun to imagine how she could make the little girl’s life happier…create a home that would be what Ginny had said wistfully a dollhouse family should be—with a daddy and a mommy.
As Coryn hesitated, Ginny turned around, saw her and waved. “Hi, Coryn.” She tugged on Mark’s sleeve. “Look, Daddy, there’s Coryn. Oh, Coryn, I have something so exciting to tell you!” Was it Coryn’s imagination, or did Mark look embarrassed? He had too honest a face to hide what he was feeling. He did seem ill at ease. Why?
Then the blow struck. Ginny’s little face was flushed, her eyes alive with excitement. “Oh, Coryn, I got my kitten! Orange, like I wanted, ‘cept she has little white paws. And I called her Sunny just like I said.”
It took all Coryn’s effort to keep from looking at Mark. The three of them were supposed to have gone to the animal shelter to help Ginny select a kitten. It was something Mark had talked to her about. Something they had planned to do together. She was the one who had persuaded Mark to allow Ginny to have a pet.
Swallowing her hurt, Coryn said, “Oh, I’m so happy for you, Ginny. I bet she’s precious.”
“She’s in the car in a box. We couldn’t bring her into the store.”
“Ginny, you were going to pick out the right kind of kitty food,” Mark said.
Coryn glanced at him. He was definitely uncomfortable. Had he forgotten he had asked her to go with them? Or had he just thought better of the idea? Thought better about everything?
Stupidly, she felt like bursting into tears. Something like this shouldn’t throw her. People forgot appointments, arrangements, plans…every day. Well, some people did. But not Mark, a small voice inside her head taunted.
When Ginny had gone happily down the aisle on her proud-pet-owner errand, it left the two of them standing awkwardly. A few inches apart. Worlds apart.
“I’ve been assigned a special feature series,” he told her finally. “Lots of research into local stuff. Lots of interviews, that sort of thing. I’ve been swamped. Haven’t had much free time.”
Coryn stiffe
ned. He didn’t need to make excuses. She got the message. He’d had second thoughts about them. He wasn’t planning to see her again anytime soon. And to think, she had almost…
“That should be interesting.” She kept her voice even. “I’ve been busy, too, working on updating my résumé,” she said briskly, smiling brightly. “Trying to make myself irresistible to a prospective employer.” The minute she had said that, she could have bitten her tongue. “Well, employable anyway.”
A cheerful voice came over the store’s PA system. “Howdy, shoppers. Today’s smart shopper’s specials are on canned whole-kernel corn and hearty salsa in aisle four. Thanks for shopping Reddi-Rite.”
Ironic, Coryn thought, my heart is breaking in the canned-foods department of the supermarket. She had to get away, yet she seemed rooted to the spot.
Coryn felt immensely thankful when Ginny came back with a large box of dry cat food and wedged it carefully beside the laundry detergent and cornflakes in Mark’s cart.
“Well, I better get on with my shopping. Mother’s waiting in the car for me,” Coryn told Mark. “Bye, Ginny,” she said to the little girl. Swiftly she wheeled her shopping cart around Mark’s and rushed down the aisle, not looking back.
Well, she didn’t need things spelled out. It couldn’t be any clearer. She could read between the lines. She’d had plenty of practice, hadn’t she? With Jason. She was smarter now. At least she had thought she was. Of course, Mark hadn’t tried to con her, use her the way Jason had. He was putting it right on the line.
Mindlessly she put food items in her cart. How on earth she would make a dinner out of any of this she could only guess. She knew she had not gotten half the things on the unreadable grocery list. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting out of there as quickly as possible. Out of the store. Away from Mark.