Breeze off the Ocean (3 page)

Regina bit her bottom lip nervously, hesitated, then drew a deep, courage-gathering breath.

“Micki, I don’t want to upset you, please believe that, but”—she drew another, shorter breath before rushing on—”we must talk about Wolf.”

“No!”

The one word escaped through Micki’s lips like a muffled explosion and she flinched as if the other woman had actually struck her.

“But you don’t understand.” Regina’s tone held a pleading note. “We must discuss this, he’s—”

“Regina.” Micki’s voice was low, intense with warning. ‘This is still my room. I’m asking you to please leave it so I can go to bed.”

“But Wolf—”

“Regina.” Micki’s teeth were clenched in an effort to control her voice. “You asked me earlier if we can be friends. Well, I’m willing to try, but there is one condition. I cannot,
will not,
discuss that person. Not now, not ever.”

“Oh, Micki,” Regina sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“And I don’t want to,” Micki snapped. “Do you want me to leave this house in the morning? Find a motel room until I can get an apartment?”

“No!” Regina exclaimed in alarm. “Of course not. Your father would—”

“Well, then.” Micki didn’t wait to hear what her father would do. “The subject will remain closed and forgotten.

“As long as Dad looks as well and happy as he does now, I’m content to meet you halfway toward friendship. I fully expect you to do the same. Do you get my meaning?”

Regina’s eyes closed briefly in defeat and she nodded. Before staring directly into Micki’s eyes, she murmured, “But please don’t say I didn’t try.”

Micki wondered over those parting words several minutes after Regina left the room. What in the world could she have meant? With a shrug of her shoulders she turned toward the bed, then stopped and became very still, the echo of that name searing through her mind.

Wolf.

Wolf—a predatory animal’s name that suited perfectly the predatory human male. A mental picture formed and, her face twisted with pain, Micki pushed it from her mind.

Damn, damn, damn Regina, for saying that name out loud.

Memories crowded in threatening to overwhelm her. Shaking herself like a wet dog, Micki moved jerkily to the bed. No, she would not allow the memories to gather, collect in her mind. Forcing herself to stand very still beside the bed, she breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out

“I must call Cindy.”

In. Out. In. Out.

“I must go apartment hunting.”

In. Out. In. Out.

“I must run up to Atlantic City and check out the shop, introduce myself.”

In. Out. In. Out.

“I’ve controlled these emotions before, I will tonight.”

Doing the breathing exercise, speaking softly, Micki felt the pain recede, the trembling leave her body. After what seemed a very long time she slipped between the cool smooth sheets, closed her eyes, and cried as if her heart were broken.

The next morning Micki woke early, refreshed and ready to face a new day. Surprisingly, after her violent crying bout, she had slept deeply. The realization that she had once again won the battle against her memories added to the feeling of well-being her uninterrupted rest had instilled.

Glancing at the bedside clock, she sat up quickly and slipped off the bed; if she hurried she could have breakfast with her father. She thrust her arms into her robe and left her room at a near run, dashed into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and brush her teeth, then hurried back along the hall and down the stairs.

“Morning.” Micki breezed into the kitchen and planted a kiss on her father’s smooth, freshly shaved cheek before seating herself at the old-fashioned wooden table.

“Morning, princess.”

Micki’s perfect white teeth flashed in a grin of delight at her father’s use of the pet name. It had been years since he’d called her that, and she loved the sound of it.

“I thought you’d sleep in this morning.” Bruce grinned back before adding, “What got you awake so early? Regina and I didn’t wake you, did we?”

“No.” Micki shook her head emphatically. “I must have been slept out.” She smiled her thanks as Regina placed a glass of juice in front of her. “I’m used to getting up early, you know.”

“All the more reason to sleep in when you get the chance,” Bruce replied placidly. “Regina’s scrambling eggs—would you like some?”

“No, thank you.” Micki’s mild grimace drew a chuckle from her dad.

“Kids!” The soft exclamation took the sting from his word. “Who can figure them out? You always loved eggs for breakfast until that last year you were in college.”

Micki’s stomach seemed to turn over and for a moment she felt trapped while she raked her mind for a reply. Thankfully neither her father nor Regina noticed the way her face had paled, as their attention was occupied by Regina serving the eggs.

“I guess I just got tired of them,” Micki finally managed weakly, eyeing the creamy yellow mound on the plates.

“Just like that.” Bruce snapped his fingers. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Stop teasing, Bruce.” Unknowingly, Regina saved Micki from the effort of finding a more plausible excuse. “As youngsters mature, their tastes change.” As she sat down at the table, Regina offered Micki a tentative smile. “Don’t mind your father, Micki. He’s in a very good but devilish mood this morning, due, I’m sure, to your being home again.”

The grin her father flashed at her confirmed Regina’s words. A slow, silent sigh fluttered through Micki’s lips as she returned Regina’s smile.

“I can see”—Micki deliberately lowered her voice conspiratorially—”you and I are going to have to stick together to keep this feisty man in line.”

Bruce’s head snapped up from his plate, his glance sharp between the two women. The spark of hope that had entered his eyes seemed to grow into wonderment as he studied first his daughter’s then his wife’s friendly expressions.

Micki fully understood the almost breathless stillness that seemed to grip him. The two women had been opponents, at first silent and then very vocal, since the day Bruce married Regina. He had coaxed, cajoled, and even ordered Micki to make more of an effort at getting along with her stepmother. The only thing he’d achieved was to fill Micki with a deeper sense of resentment. She had made an attempt at friendship with Regina. At the very vulnerable age of eleven she had welcomed the idea of a mother. Regina, a younger, beautiful Regina, had quickly disabused her of that idea. Without actually saving the words, Regina had left little doubt in Micki’s young mind of exactly where she stood. If Micki wanted her father’s attention, she would have to fight for it. Micki had fought silently but bitterly, and until last night, she had thought it was a battle she could never win.

Now the gentle smile Micki gave her father erased the doubt lingering around the edges of his expression. She saw him swallow with difficulty and the action brought a corresponding lump to her throat. Shifting her eyes, she caught the quick flutter of Regina’s lashes and the lump grew in size.

“Princess,” Bruce murmured solemnly, “I wonder if you realize how happy I am to have you home.” The slight emphasis he placed on the word
home
told the full story.

“And you can have no idea how happy it makes me to be home.” Micki let her own emphasis reflect his before she laughed a little shakily. “And if you don’t eat your breakfast, you are going to be late for work.”

“Oh, but you see”—Bruce followed her lead in lightening the mood—”that’s the fun part of being the boss. I can breeze in and out of the office whenever I please.” He paused, a mock frown creasing his forehead. “The only thing is, as I have a very important client coming this morning, I damned well better please to get moving.”

After her father had left for the office and Regina had refused her offer to help with the dishes, Micki went to the phone in the living room to call Cindy.

“Hello.” Cindy’s bubbly voice sang across the wire after the fourth ring.

“Hi, Cindy, how are you?”

“Micki!” The exclamation was like a small explosion. “Where are you? Are you here in Ocean City? How are you? When did you get home? Are you home?” The questions followed each other in such rapid succession Micki laughingly shouted to get a word in.

“Cindy, if you will take time to breathe, I’ll explain the wheres and whys.” The small silence that followed these words allowed Micki to continue briefly. “I am home, yes, and—”

“Then don’t bother to go any further,” Cindy broke in. “Jump in your car and come to the house, I’m dying to see you.” She hesitated, then asked apologetically, “Or did you have other plans for this morning?”

“As a matter of fact,” Micki laughed, “my only plans for today were to come and see you, if you had no other plans. Does that make any sense at all?”

“Perfect sense,” Cindy declared happily. “So why are you still on the phone? Get truckin’, woman.” She hung up before Micki could even tell her she would.

Still smiling, Micki went to the kitchen to tell Regina where she was going, adding she had no idea when she’d be back.

“Oh, that will work out perfectly.” Regina’s smile was still somewhat tentative. “I have a lunch date with Betty Grant and we’d planned to do some shopping after lunch. How is Cindy feeling now?”

The question startled Micki, wiped the smile off her face.

“She sounded fine,” she answered slowly, then asked anxiously, “Why? Has she been ill?”

“No, no,” Regina soothed. “Not ill, but she did have a few bad moments at the beginning of her pregnancy, you know.”

Everything inside Micki seemed to freeze with an emotion she couldn’t begin to put a name to. Cindy pregnant? Why hadn’t she told her?

Regina glanced up from the dish she was drying; her face grew puzzled at Micki’s stillness. “Is something wrong?” she asked with concern.

“No.” Micki shook her head and forced the smile back to her stiff lips. “I—I didn’t know Cindy was pregnant.”

“Didn’t know?” For a second Regina’s eyes were totally blank, then they widened with dismay. “Oh, damn,” she groaned. “Cindy must have wanted to surprise you and now I’ve ruined it for her.”

“You couldn’t know, and I’ll play dumb when she tells me.” Micki wet her parched lips as she turned toward the doorway. “Cindy will have her surprise.” Moving swiftly through the doorway, she added, “I’ll see you when I see you.”

Inside her room Micki leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, a soft moan catching at her throat. Hugging her midriff tightly as if to contain the pain inside, she dug her teeth into her lower lip. For a few moments the remembered torment was so real she wanted to cry out against it. Oh, God, she thought sickly, would the hurt never go away? Breathing deeply, exactly as she had the night before, she forced herself to a measure of calmness. She had to get dressed, go see Cindy, and act surprised and happy about her pregnancy. She
was
happy for Cindy.

By the time Micki backed her car out of the driveway, she had her emotions under control. Driving slowly through the mid-morning traffic, she glanced around quickly. The tourist season was in full swing. People of all ages, shapes, and sizes were on their way to the beach. Cyclists pedaled their way toward their destination. The streets were crowded with cars; people coming into the city, people going out of the city, and some just driving around pursuing their business, and over all, the gulls soared and dipped and sang their raucous songs. Micki loved it. She always had and as she drove through it she felt the stiffness ease out of her body.

It was not a very long drive, as the house Cindy and Benny had bought was located just south of where the long boardwalk ended. From Cindy’s letters Micki knew it was a double unit building fronting the beach and ocean. The reason the young couple decided to buy a double unit was the obvious one: the increasing cost of real estate. The summer rental on the apartment made up more than half of the yearly mortgage payments. The cost of the building had been exorbitant but, Cindy had written, for a place of their own, it had been worth it.

Cindy was waiting at the door, and as soon as Micki drove onto the crushed-stone driveway, she pushed the car door open and ran to meet her.

After incoherent greetings and fierce hugs were exchanged, the two women stood back to examine each other, identical smiles of pleasure on their faces. Extending a slim hand, Micki placed it gently on the bulge that was Cindy’s belly.

“I’m so happy for you,” she said softly. “But, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Cindy laughed. “If you remember, you wrote that you were thinking of spending your vacation at home this year and, well, I just wanted to see your face when you saw me.”

“You nit.” Micki shook her head in mock reproach. “Was my expression worth keeping the secret all this time?”

“Well worth it,” Cindy affirmed, taking her arm and leading her to the house. “You looked absolutely stunned.”

A mental picture of how she’d reacted to the news a short time ago allowed Micki to answer with complete honesty. “I assure you I was. When is the big event slated to happen?”

“Around Christmastime,” Cindy replied happily. “Oh, Micki, don’t you think that’s exciting? I mean, a baby for Christmas.”

‘Very exciting,” Micki murmured. She stepped over the threshold directly into a large, airy living room, resplendent with plants of all kinds, a half dozen of which hung from the ceiling.

The apartment was larger than Micki would have expected. In addition to the living room there was a tiny dining room, a roomy kitchen, one and a half baths, and three bedrooms, one of which was in the process of redecoration.

“The baby’s room,” Cindy explained needlessly.

“I love it,” Micki enthused honestly. “All of it. And the fact that it’s practically right on the beach makes it worth whatever you paid for it”

‘That’s what we thought,” Cindy nodded. “Of course we don’t know what it will be like in the winter, but we’re delighted with it just the same.”

They wandered back into the kitchen and from there onto the wide, awning-covered deck.

“I thought since it’s so hot already this morning, we’d have lunch out here.”