Cameo Lake (30 page)

“Talia struck her head on the rock and then somehow slipped under the raft's edge, pinned against the rock. I heard her go over,
heard the splash. You remember that I told you it was very dark out. I dived off after her, but jumped off the other side. My splash, my swimming, would have masked the sound of her own, so I never thought that she hadn't struck out for shore. When I got there and she wasn't on the beach, I realized what had happened. I swam back but I couldn't find her at first. Then I did. Do you know how hard it is to get help out on an island? I had to chose between breathing for her and calling nine-one-one. We had to wait for the emergency people to find the harbormaster. Now the doctors tell me that it probably wouldn't have made any difference anyway after so many minutes underwater. The only thing I accomplished by getting her breathing again was to prolong her dying.”

“Ben, you did the right thing. Don't ever go down that road.”

The waitress reappeared with lunch-hour-rush efficiency to set the bill in front of us. It had begun to snow in earnest and I knew that I'd have to leave as soon as we were done. I had one more question that needed answering.

“Have you been able to work on the concerto?”

“No. I haven't touched it since you left.” Ben gave me a little amused smile, “Would you believe that there's been a rebirth of interest in Interior Angles? They want us to do a reunion CD.”

“Will you do it?”

“No. At least not soon.” He suddenly reached across for my hand, his thumb rubbed at the empty place on my ring finger and he looked into my eyes. “Cleo, I can't take on anything more right now. I'm tapped out. It won't always be this way, but for now, I've got to stay where I am and see it to the end.” His thumb pressed on my finger.

“Ben, you know I won't do anything to complicate your life.”

He looked at me with an odd half-smile, “Oh, no, Cleo. You're the light at the end of my tunnel.”

Forty-two

I
t was snowing in earnest by the time Ben walked me back to my car. We joked a little about ducking the paparazzi, but I know Ben was relieved that no one had followed him here. “They've been hanging out at the boat launch, long-range cameras, the works. I haven't felt this invaded since my IA days. Fortunately, the public's attention span is about four weeks, so it really has blown over. They just keep tabs on Talia and you can't imagine the ploys they use to get information. One of the reasons we came to the conclusion she needs to stay where she is, is because of the small town. The staff knows everybody so it's well nigh impossible to slip in pretending to be a staff member.”

“Someone tried that?”

“That's how they got that picture, the one splashed all over supermarkets around the nation.”

“How awful.”

“Well, we're dealing with it, and they've apparently lost interest in following me. Although eventually they'll be back.”

I knew he meant when she died, but I made no comment.

At my car, Ben took my keys and unlocked it. Then opened his arms to me and I went to him, for the instant completely unambivalent and uncautious. I buried my face against the soft flannel of his worn shirt and then lifted my face to meet his kiss. It is possible to go
weak-kneed. We didn't pretend that this kiss was a simple farewell. The passion behind it was a little frightening. I thought that I would die if it stopped, or if it didn't. We whispered our passion to each other. Then finally stood apart. I was breathless and he was flushed. We laughed a little, to feel so adolescent.

The sound of someone walking by startled us both and Ben quickly turned me to face the car, and away from the lone businessman. As the sound of the footsteps died away I knew that we were in dangerous waters. That this was the wrong time to be together.

“Ben, some day, some day soon, we can be together. But,” and I grasped his ungloved hands, “for now, I think we need to be . . . I can't . . .” I was trying to say what had been at the root of my silence before, we needed to wait for our separate stories to conclude before we could begin our own. “I don't want to confuse compassion with passion.”

“Do you think that's what this is?” He moved an arm's length from me. “I know the difference. Sometimes I do want your compassion—but, Cleo, what I feel for you is not so one-dimensional. That isn't the only thing I want from you.” Without meaning to, I'd hurt him with my caution.

“That's not what I'm saying. I think that I love you Ben. But until I'm clear of the confusion in my life, I can't explore this possibility without dragging the burden of that confusion along.” I grasped the edges of his jacket and pulled him back to me. “And until you are clear of your burdens, neither can you.”

He had no rebuttal, only took me back into his arms and we stood against my car for a long time, just holding each other as if it might be the last time.

Finally Ben opened my car door for me. “It's snowing, and you should go.”

“How are you getting back?”

“I'm staying in town.”

I felt the weight of squandered opportunity.

“Cleo, I'm here when you're ready.”

“It won't be long.”

“Just promise me you'll be there when I'm ready.”

* * *

The snow was making the drive challenging enough that I needed to concentrate on my driving, relieving me of thinking back on the last hour. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and follow him home, but we both knew that my instincts were sound. What hurt was the look on his face, at once disappointed and accepting. We knew we were doing the right thing. Beyond even the chance of being the target of the paparazzi, we had to keep out of each other's lives until we could come together unencumbered.

Except that our resolve and the rightness of it did nothing to allay the grief of such a decision.

Forty-three

C
hristmas morning dawned mild and damp. Lily and Tim were up, as I expected, at dawn. I heard them whispering as they gazed at the array of gifts. Sean and I, in some understandable urge to compensate for the upset we'd inflicted on them, had gone overboard with gifts. We bought them both new bikes, and I could hear their excited voices and the rustle of paper as they tried to extricate the bikes from the pile of boxes. This was the moment when I usually nudged Sean awake, “Hear that? Santa's been here.” He'd yawn and kiss me, “Merry Christmas.” I'd have to poke him one more time to get him up.

I threw back the covers and pulled my old URI sweatshirt on over my nightgown, determined to be happy. Determined to make this day as close to normal as possible.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” A duet singing out the glories of Santa. I plugged in the percolator and sat in the big chair beside the tree to dole out the presents.

“Mom, you have to wear the Santa hat.” Tim was a stickler for tradition.

“I don't know where it is.” I didn't mention that I had seen the red and white fuzzy hat in the box of ornaments and left it there. Sean always wore it on Christmas morning as he passed out the gifts.
“Can you guys wait while I pour a cup of coffee?” I didn't wait for an answer but fled to the kitchen. Nothing felt normal.

A sharp tap on the backdoor window startled me into spilling a little coffee. Sean's face was framed between the curtains on it, a little self-conscious smile. I felt myself grow cold and I set my coffee back down on the counter. Through the glass I could see that he'd come alone and so opened the door to him.

“Merry Christmas, Cleo. I know I should have talked to you about this before but”—Sean had kissed my cheek, and still stood very close to me as he whispered—”I woke up before dawn and found myself listening for the kids. You can throw me out, but I wish you'd let me be here for a little while. Just till they finish opening presents.”

“What does Eleanor say about this?” Sean had moved in with her once the divorce papers were filed. He still hadn't confirmed to anyone that she was pregnant and I was beginning to think Lily had been wrong. I had every right to ask, but held back with an odd sense that even between illicitly formed couples, there was a right to privacy.

Sean still stood close. “She's still asleep.”

“Help yourself to the coffee.” I moved away from him and slapped on my happy face to convince the children this was all right. Their delight at seeing their father was almost painful. An odd thing happened then. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, but suddenly it
was
all right. It was actually more than all right. It was like intermission at a very long and draining opera.

Stockings were emptied, boxes were opened, wrapping was strewn into every corner of the living room. Lily handed Sean the box with the gloves in it which I had gotten for them to give to their father. Always Sean and I had waited to exchange our gifts until after the kids were done. Like an empty place at the table, there was a fleeting moment to recognize that this year we weren't. I started gathering the debris. Sean went and got a trash bag.

We looked so normal amidst the mess, two pajama-clad children, one rumpled and unshaven dad with the Santa hat, which I'd suddenly found, and one mom still in her nightshirt and uncombed hair.
I should have taken a picture. “I'm making French toast. Will you stay?”

Sean looked at his watch. “I'd better not.” He looked at the kids and then shrugged. “What the hell. Just let me call her.”

He was smart enough to call from the phone in my office, out of earshot of any of us. When he came back he had that tense jaw I always associated with annoyance.

The devil in me forced the question. “She's not too happy about this, is she?”

“What? No, Eleanor's fine with this. She understands.”

Somehow, even though the breakfast was lovely and we all laughed at old stories, the atmosphere had been sharpened by his remark. He was very loyal to his girlie. Sean left right after breakfast, promising to be back to collect the kids by noon.

“Dad, Mom, can't we ride our bikes to Gramma's?”

Sean and I passed one of those silent, what-do-you-think looks over their heads. “I guess so, if it's all right with your mother.”

“Sean, why don't you meet them here on foot and walk with them?”

“Sure. I'll have Eleanor drop me off.”

The sharp end of the spear. Eleanor would be there, of course. And I would not.

Grace and Joanie once again opened their holiday to me. I was a little surprised to find myself the only guest, but was all the more touched by the gesture. I brought the holiday pies, they did the rest. I had waited at home until the last minute, fussing with straightening up, making the pies, staying close to the phone in case Ben called. Hoping for a reenactment of the Thanksgiving call. I'd sent him a card, signed by all of us. I stuck a little note inside which said I was thinking of him. I was trying to bring to bear all the purported skill of my writing abilities to convey that I loved him, and that I was sorry for making him wait without actually writing those words. I hadn't gotten a card back and I tried to shrug it off. He was busy, distracted.

It was such a comfort to be at Grace and Joanie's University Avenue flat. It smelled of proper Christmas dinner, and their little artificial tree sparkled with twinkle lights and silver ornaments. Here and there were handmade ornaments my kids had given them, clothespin dollies and construction-paper stars. Under the tree, in gracious display, were several open boxes holding sweaters and various articles of winter wear. It seemed to me that the girls were planning a winter vacation by the look of their gifts to each other. I caught sight of a small box with my name on it beside several with Lily's and Tim's names written on Joanie's handmade gift tags.

Dinner was ready and we ate before opening gifts, true grownups. Joanie had provided us with an outstanding feast and we all ate well and drank too much wine. By the time we pushed ourselves away from the table and went into the living room, I was feeling quite unguarded. So it was without embarrassment I wept when, after oohing and aahing over my gifts to them, I opened my present and found a beautiful scarf and an invitation to be their guest at the Cameo Lake Inn the next weekend.

“You'll love the place in winter. We'll rent cross-country skis and go all over the frozen lake.” Grace was so excited about her brilliant gift, she didn't notice the tears which ran unchecked as soon as I saw the words
Cameo Lake
. All of a sudden all the world shrank into what those words held for me. Finally Grace realized that my silence wasn't speechlessness but a true meltdown. She put her arms around me and let me have at it. Joanie excused herself with a kiss on the top of my head and went to visit her mother. Grace hugged me to her large body and rocked me like a child until she began to demand what had set me off. “Is it because that's where you found out about Sean?”

I shook my head and used the end of my sweater as a tissue.

“Then what is it?” Grace reached for a tissue box. “Oh, I know. Ben.”

I nodded and took the box from her. Very slowly I told her about everything, coming at last to the decision made in Boston to stay apart until we were totally free. “I think I may have hurt him, although he agreed it was the best thing.”

“You nincompoop.” Grace physically moved me away from her and stood up, hands on hips, ready to lecture. “The man all but says he loves you. Why hold him at arm's length? Don't you deserve a little happiness, Cleo Grayson?”

“What if it's only a product of our situation? Because of all that's happened.”

“You mean rebound love?”

“Yes.”

“Cleo, you fell for him a long time ago. Not since Sean's affair. You don't even know it, but you've been falling for Ben Turner for six months.”

“What if the divorce is because I fell for him?”

“Take it from me, Cleo. It ain't. You want to divorce Sean because he's a cheating schmuck. Don't you trust your feelings for Ben? Go get him. Come with us Friday and go get him.”

“How can I? It wouldn't be right. Don't forget, I cheated too.” The wine had loosened up all my fears and emotional confusion, all my anguish and deep seated guilt.

“Apples and oranges.” Grace sat back down next to me and looped me close. “What did your parents do to you that you don't think you deserve some happiness?”