Rising, she paced the living room impatiently. It was stupid to think her future rested in the hands of some woman she’d never met, but she couldn’t help but worry that seeing her would change Dominic even more. They had a history together—a child who had died. Their bond was at least as strong as hers and Dominic’s, maybe more—they’d shared their teenage years together. Had a similar background.
“Here we are.” Lianne entered, carrying a tray with tea and the ice cream she’d dished up. “Tray called the office and there’s a slight problem, so he’s gone in,” she added, setting the tray on the coffee table. “I thought you’d be resting, not pacing. I’m so tired I’m going to bed after this. What’s up?”
“I’m thinking about Dominic’s visit to Pennsylvania. Why does he need to visit Phyllis? As far as I know he hasn’t seen her since they separated, more than a decade ago. Why now?”
“You’re going to have to accept that there is a portion of Dominic’s life you won’t ever share— his first marriage. He told you it wasn’t happy. It ended soon enough when the baby died. Let it go, sis.”
“He feels he’s to blame. But a person can’t wish circumstances into being. Heaven knows I’d wish for things to come right between us if that would work.”
“Intellectually he knows that. But a baby—one he resented…” Lianne shook her head. “Imagine when things turned out the way they did. He remembered all that anger and resentment. He projected his father’s complaints about life onto his own. And it all came down to a stillborn baby. I can see the guilt. Even if he and Phyllis had stayed married, I think Dominic has too much drive and determination to have remained in that town. He would have found other work, maybe ending up eventually where he is today.”
“A baby changes all that again,” Annalise said. “There’s nothing I could have done differently. I didn’t expect to get pregnant. But I’m adapting. Why can’t he?”
“Personally, I’m thrilled to death about both our babies. They’ll be close cousins, being practically the same age and all. I wonder what we’ll have? I want a little girl, do you? Sit—eat.” Lianne handed her a cup of tea.
Annalise sat down and took the cup and saucer. She sipped, placing them on the table and reaching for the dish of ice cream nearest her. “I want a healthy child. I don’t much care about its gender.”
She took a spoonful of the butter pecan ice cream, letting it melt in her mouth, crunching the nuts.
“Are you two moving soon?” she asked, glancing around.
Lianne looked surprised. “No. Why would we? I just moved into Tray’s apartment when we married. Mine is history. But this place is large enough for us. And I love having a doorman downstairs.”
“What about when the baby comes?” Annalise asked, licking another spoonful.
“We’ll fix up the second bedroom as a nursery. We’re buying a house at the shore. That’ll be our escape when things get hectic,” Lianne said.
“You’d raise a child here?” Annalise looked around.
Tray’s apartment was nicely furnished, but looked nothing like her image of a family home. Surely Lianne had the same image?
“What’s wrong with here?”
“No yard, for one thing. No family room separate from the living room, where kids’ clutter could stay even if guests came over. Don’t you want a dog?”
“You’re thinking of our home when we were growing up. It was perfect for our family—but not, I think, for me and Tray.”
Annalise looked at her twin. “Why not?”
“I like this place. There’s a park nearby, and whenever we want the feel of nature we’ll head for the shore. And, no, I do not want a dog. Maybe when the baby is older we’ll get a cat—who can stay by itself when we go places, or come with us to the shore. But that’s for the future. In the meantime, I’m just working on having this baby.”
“You go to the shore all the time, year-round. Is that why you want a house there?”
“Tray and I are buying a house a few doors down from the one the grandparents own. We can stay in our own place when everyone’s up, and yet visit as much as we want. And whenever I want to get away I’ll have my own place, and won’t have to make sure no one else will be using it,” Lianne explained.
“Nice. Only two of you for the bathroom,” Annalise said, remembering the long lines sometimes at her grandparents’ cottage—even after the second bathroom had been installed.
Lianne laughed. “I know. That’s the best part—no more standing in line. If you’re really nice to me, you and Dominic can come over and use our bathroom, too.”
The lightheartedness vanished. Annalise stirred her melting ice cream. “If there is still a Dominic and me. He’s not the man I thought I married.”
“So what other secrets can he be hiding?”
“Don’t even suggest he might be,” Annalise said. She put her bowl down and finished her tea.
“I’m ready to leave when you are ready to take me.”
“Stay the night. Tray may not be back for hours, and I’m tired. Would it be a hardship to stay here?”
“Not at all. You’ll have to lend me a nightgown, but I’ll stay.”
The two sisters changed for bed, then settled in front of the television to watch an old movie. Having seen it a dozen times before, Annalise didn’t need to pay strict attention to keep up with the storyline. Her thoughts revolved around Dominic and her fear for their uncertain future.
When Dominic arrived at the house Annalise had bought, she was not there. Her car was in the driveway, so she must have gotten a ride to Richmond with Lianne. Shouldn’t they be back by now? It was after eleven. Frustrated, he left the front door and went back to his car. Turning on his phone, he saw the message indicator light and listened to his calls. Three calls: two from Annalise’s brothers, and one from Tray. None sounded friendly. She had told them everything, obviously. Damn.
He was physically tired from the long drive, and emotionally drained from the weekend. He’d deal with the calls tomorrow. It was late. He’d wait here until midnight. If she weren’t back by then, he’d head for home.
It was twelve-thirty when he entered their flat. It was dark and quiet. For a moment, he’d hoped she’d returned here after the Richmond trip, but the empty bedroom showed how vain that hope had been.
The bedroom seemed oddly empty as he discarded his clothes. In the old days, he could remember only a very few nights when Annalise hadn’t been home when he was. Usually when she and Lianne went to the beach. When that happened, he missed her. Tonight he missed her more than usual.
After this weekend he had a different perspective on things. Was it too late?
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANNALISE WENT to the house early next morning, to shower and dress for work. The office would be hectic and her workload heavier than normal, with trying to squeeze in five days for every four.
She felt buoyed up by the promise from her family to help at her new house in two weeks. She hoped for good weather so they could accomplish as much that weekend as they had in Richmond.
Around ten, Dominic called her.
“You didn’t come home last night,” he said when she answered.
“I stayed at Lianne’s. How did you know?”
There was silence for a moment.
“I went by the house when I got back from Pennsylvania. Can I pick you up for lunch?” Dominic asked.
“Why?”
“Can’t a husband ask his wife out?”
Sure, but he usually didn’t do it so formally. “I guess so. I don’t have any appointments today.”
When she’d hung up, Annalise wondered if she should have asked about his trip. She deliberately had not. At least they’d have something to talk about at lunch. She didn’t want a repeat of the awkward silence of their last meal out together.
Shortly thereafter a large bouquet of fall flowers arrived for Annalise. The receptionist brought them in and several coworkers crowded around to see who the
y were from. The card said simply, Love, Dominic.
“I wish my husband would send me flowers,” Margo said, touching one of the bronze chrysanthemums.
“Is it a special occasion?” another coworker asked.
Annalise shook her head, curious as to the reason for the flowers. She’d used to receive them a lot in years past. Lately the deliveries had tapered off. Were they a gesture of courting, or an appeasement for the weekend? What had gone down in Pennsylvania?
Dominic arrived at her work right at noon.
When she met him in the lobby of the real-estate agency, he looked the same as always, and as usual her heart rate kicked up a notch. His hair was getting to the stage of needing a trim. She liked it a bit longer than he normally wore it. His dark eyes were grave. She wanted to fling herself into his arms and cling for life. But he didn’t like clingy women, and she wasn’t going to put herself in the category of his first wife.
“I thought we’d eat at Bacchigalupia’s,” he said, mentioning a favorite Italian place.
“Nice.” Warily she tried to gauge Dominic’s mood. He seemed reserved. Was he going to tell her something she wouldn’t like? Was he trying to make it easier by going to a public place? No scene that way.
They spoke little on the way to the restaurant. Since it was a Monday lunch, it was crowded. They had to wait twenty minutes for a table. The crowded entry to the restaurant was not conducive to personal discussions.
Once they were seated, they quickly ordered, and then Annalise looked at him across the table.
“So,” she began brightly, “how was your weekend?” She would not get upset, no matter what he said.
“Interesting,” he responded. “I saw my father and then Phyllis.”
She kept the pleasant smile plastered on her face with effort. She so did not want to hear about his visiting the woman he’d married before her.
“And?” she said when he paused.
He moved his fork an inch to the left, and then looked up at her. “It went well enough. Do you have to return to work this afternoon?”
“I planned to.”
“Take time off and come with me.”
“Where?” she asked.
“I thought we’d go to the National Gallery of Art. They have a traveling exhibit of Monet. The gardens at Giverny. I know you love those.”
She nodded. They visited the National Gallery several times a year—usually in winter, when the weather was bad. How had she missed hearing about a Monet exhibit? He was her favorite Impressionist.
“I would enjoy that,” she said.
“Then we’ll go after lunch, and I’ll tell you more about my weekend. I assume from the phone calls I’ve been getting from your brothers and father that you told your family I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the pregnancy.”
She was astonished. “They’ve called you?”
“I had three messages last night, and today Sean and Patrick left messages. Even Tray joined in.”
Annalise didn’t know whether to laugh at the thought of all the males in her family rallying round, or be outraged that they didn’t think she could handle things on her own. She decided she needed to have a talk with a few of them—but later. Right now she was intrigued.
“Did you talk to any of them?” she asked.
“No. I’m smarter than that. But I can’t dodge them forever.” He moved his fork back an inch.
Annalise had never seen her husband nervous before. Her heart sank. He probably didn’t know how to tell her he’d decided their marriage wasn’t what he wanted, with the new baby coming. She was not going to make things easy for him. If he wanted out of the marriage he’d have to flat out tell her so.
The waiter served their order with a flourish. She glanced around at businessmen having lunch meetings, a table of women celebrating someone’s birthday. She wished she could be as carefree as the rest of the patrons looked.
She picked at her linguine. Normally she loved the dish, but today she was too churned with nerves to enjoy it. Dominic seemed to have no difficulty finishing his food.
When they were done, they headed for the National Gallery. Annalise knew if he didn’t say something soon, she’d explode. Even walking into the huge halls with their quiet atmosphere and lovely paintings did not soothe her as it normally did.
They followed the signs for the Monet exhibit, and soon stood before one of her favorite paint- ings—The Water-Lily Pond. The tranquil colors delighted her senses. She wished she could visit Giverny and see the settings herself.
Dominic stood beside her, studying the painting. “It’s beautiful and calming at the same time.”
“That’s what I think.” She looked at him. How many times had they walked around the gallery discussing paintings but never sharing more personal insights?
“Can you see children running across the bridge, tossing pebbles into the pond?” she asked, letting her imagination soar. One day she’d have a little boy or girl who would run and play.
“No. I see a quiet garden—a place a man comes at evening time to contemplate and think over the day. To count his blessings and vow to do better.”
She blinked. “Tell me about your weekend,” she said softly, her gaze still on the lovely painting.
He glanced around. There was another couple across the hall, studying another painting. He reached out to link his hands with hers and gently drew her to a different water-lily painting.
“It turned out to be more interesting than I expected. First I went by the house I was raised in. I didn’t recognize the place. Nothing stays the same. Then I went to my dad’s. I took a long hard look at my father. We talked, and as we did, I realized he has chosen a different way. The choices he made over the years are not the ones I’ve made. He says he wants out of that small town, but he’s made little effort to get out. Though he surprised me by telling me he tried once for a position in a theater in New York.”
“But didn’t get a job?” she guessed.
“Right—and he didn’t try again.”
“That’s too bad. I bet given time someone would have hired him.”
Dominic shrugged. “I think it was easier for him to blame circumstances than the fact he wasn’t aggressive enough, diligent enough, to get what he said he wanted.”
“Easier to blame everything on having a child?” she said carefully.
He nodded. “It’s hard for me to talk about this, Annalise. But I’m going to. I made a vow and I plan to keep it. To me and to you. As a kid, it was hard for me to get beyond hearing him talk like that every day. It’s only now that I realize my being there had nothing to do with the way he lived his life. It was just a convenient excuse. I wonder what he would have used if he and my mother had not had me.”
Annalise didn’t know where this was leading. Did it mean Dominic was not going to resent a child, like his father had? She studied the painting, her heart beating faster. She tightened her fingers slightly and he squeezed her hand in return. They were connected. She hoped they always would be.
“I should have told you about Phyllis and our marriage when I first met you. I apologize for not doing so,” he said.
Annalise turned to gaze up at him. “Why didn’t you? When we first met, it wouldn’t have meant much. Even if you’d told me before we married I wouldn’t have cared. But to keep it hidden all these years only makes me wonder if we are as close as we should be as a married couple.”
He looked up at the painting for a moment, then back at her. “I wanted to forget. To pretend that year had never happened. Erase twelve months and act as if I came from as uncomplicated a background as everyone else at university. Back then it was important to me to fit in. To be as carefree as the other students. I didn’t want anything to remind me of what had happened and how I got there.”
“The death of your baby?” she said, understanding how fresh the wound would have been when he’d been at university.
He nodded. “Can you understand?”
�
�I can see you starting university with that attitude. But, if not when we first met, at least after we were engaged you could have found a moment to tell me.”
“You were young and enthusiastic, and full of optimism. I didn’t want anything from my past to dim that. And then we forged a good life together. It was what I’d always dreamed of and more. Once we began, there was never a good time to say anything—and less and less reason for it. The past was over.”
“Until my getting pregnant resurrected it?” she said.
He nodded, and led her to yet another painting. They both ignored it to gaze at each other.
“Right. The minute I learned about it, I immediately remembered how much I railed against fate before. And how awful I felt about the outcome. How could anyone resent a baby? What kind of monster did that make me?”
“Not a monster. Just a teenager who was given too much to deal with before he was ready,” she said, understanding how he must have felt. It didn’t mitigate her own feelings of hurt that he’d never confided in her, but she could understand his emotions after the baby was delivered. “You’re human. Let it go, Dominic,” she said. “Forgive yourself. You did not cause your baby to be born dead.”
“I went to see Phyllis this weekend,” he said.
“So you said.” She did not want to hear about his first wife. If he truly was over her, why resurrect the past? And if not, she didn’t want to hear it. Ostriches had the right idea.
Yet one small part of her wondered at the girl who had captured his interest when he’d been younger. Was she anything like Phyllis?
“She’s married and has two children. She’s happy,” he said.
The other couple came up to the picture. Dominic raised an eyebrow at Annalise and they moved to another room. This one held only a lone, elderly man, studying another Monet.
Parents in Training Page 14