Dear Diary (26 page)

All day, with Michelle’s crumbling marriage so potently evident, Rory had rehearsed what she would say to Nick. She’d known before she’d made love to him that their time was doomed; Michelle’s problems had simply put those thoughts into focus sooner rather than later. But hearing Nick tell her to leave wasn’t what she’d wanted after all. Protecting her heart wasn’t as easy as she’d thought. She ached inside.

“I’ll be at Michelle’s if you need me. Pamela’s got her number.”

“So do I,” Nick replied softly.

“Did you… take care of Marsden?”

“I think I’ve taken care of everything, Rory. Tell Michelle I’m sorry she’s having such a difficult time, and if she’s able to listen, tell her it does get better.”

Does it?
Rory regarded him uncertainly, but Nick had closed himself off from her. Quietly she left his office, her muffled footsteps sounding terribly lonely in the empty hallway.

DEAR DIARY — NANCY BUSH

Chapter Eleven

I knew this would happen. I knew it. One weekend with Nick and poof! I lose all my brains. They just leaked right out of my head. A friend of mine once told me lust makes you stupid. Well, she was right. How can it be that Michelle’s utterly miserable over a man, and all I can think about is Nick? What kind of sister am I? She thinks I’m being wonderful, taking care of the kids, fixing meals, running interference for her and James when things get really rough. But it’s Nick I think about. Nick I want. I don’t trust myself anymore. If he crooked his little finger, I’d follow.

Rory sat on the bench, exhausted, watching Max and Lisa have fun on the playground. Max could barely pull himself up onto a two-foot-tall wooden platform; Lisa couldn’t at all. This created a fight, and Rory had to step in.

“That does it, kids,” Rory muttered. “We’ve got to go back.”

It took all her energy to corral them into the car and buckle them into their car seats. Max impudently unbuckled himself, glaring at Rory.

“Do it again, and you forfeit that ice cream cone I promised you,” Rory threatened, refastening it. Max’s pudgy hand moved to the buckle, and Rory met his gaze squarely, daring him to test her.

He pulled his hand back and looked at the toes of his shoes.

Rory smothered a smile.
I would make a terrible mother,
she thought as she climbed behind the wheel, then was struck down by how suddenly, achingly she wanted her own child. Nick’s child.

Oh, God, I’m in trouble.

The park was only two miles from Michelle’s house. Rory drove by rote, so miserable her arms seemed held down by weights. Pulling into Michelle’s driveway, Rory felt her low spirits sink even lower. For three days she’d hidden her own feelings and presented a cheery face to Michelle. She’d even refrained from murdering James whenever the worm showed his adulterous face. But it was wearing on her. She couldn’t take the indecision. Throughout her life Rory had met obstacles head-on and made choices. Why Michelle couldn’t make a choice now was beyond her. As far as Rory could see, divorce was the only option. How could you hang on to a man who didn’t want you?

The twins had fallen asleep on the way back. One by one Rory carried them to their beds. The house was silent, only a faint breeze stirred up the sweet heavy scent of the bouquet of yellow roses on the dining table. Rory had bought the flowers, needing something fresh and beautiful to admire while she sorted through her own self-doubts and Michelle’s ragged emotions.

“Michelle?” Rory called softly, quietly closing the door to the twins’ room. Fear prickled along her skin. Where was she?

Visions of disaster filled her head. She walked rapidly down the hall, searching each room. The back of Michelle’s head showed above the outdoor chaise lounge. Calling herself an over-imaginative fool, Rory slid back the screen door. “Michelle?”

A sigh sounded. Michelle’s head lolled to one side. Rory moved around to the front of the chair. She picked up her sisters wrist and checked her pulse. She couldn’t help herself.

Michelle’s eyes fluttered. “Whad are you doin’?” she asked sleepily.

“Nothing.” Rory felt sheepish. Her sister was just taking a nap. “The kids are asleep in their beds.”

“Thanks for taking them to the park. Did they have fun?”

“Up until World War III broke out.” She told her about the fight.

Michelle sighed, gazing reflectively across the cedar deck to the copse of firs beyond. “James called while you were gone. Now that everything’s out in the open, he’s already pressuring me for a divorce. Can you believe it?”

Rory grimaced. “He wants this woman that badly?”

“She must really be something,” she said, a catch in her voice.

Rory’s heart broke. Michelle was trying so hard to be fair. “Are you going to fight the divorce?”

“Yes.”

Rory didn’t answer. She felt it was a lost cause, but she wasn’t her sister.

Michelle reached for the glass of iced-tea on the table beside her. She took one small sip, collecting herself. “I know you’d opt for divorce if it came down to it,” she said, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice. “You’re strong, Rory. But even though you probably can’t understand this, I love James. I can’t give him up. And I have the twins to think about.”

“You still want him even though he’s treating you like dirt? How can you stand knowing he’s been sleeping with some other woman? I wouldn’t put up with it. I couldn’t.”

“Have you ever been in love, Rory?” Michelle asked. “I mean, really in love? Even once?”

“This isn’t about me,” Rory began gently, but Michelle shook her head vigorously.

“It kinda is. I’m trying to explain how I feel, and you just won’t listen. I love James. I think this affair is just a temporary thing. I hate it. It makes me crazy, and I want to kill him. But I know, deep down, if I stay rational and don’t give him any ultimatums, it might just go away.”

“Michelle, listen to yourself. That’s the most masochistic thing I’ve ever heard. The man wants a divorce.”

“That’s what he says today, but Rory, he broke down on the phone. He knows how much he’s hurting me. He just needs time to get himself together.”

“I can’t listen to this.” Rory paced to the far end of the deck, angry. How could Michelle delude herself so completely?

She felt her sister walk up behind her, heard her deep sigh. “There’s not a right or a wrong, you know. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I know what I want.”

“There is a right and wrong. James was wrong to cheat on you. He’s even more wrong to keep seeing this other woman now that you know about her. After Dad’s infidelities, how can you stand to be with that kind of man?”

There was a deep, silent moment, as if the earth itself had paused to take a breath. They had never discussed their father before. “James isn’t like Daddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Daddy cheated on Mom for years with all kinds of different women. James just wants this one woman.”

“
Daddy
married the last one,” Rory reminded. “And he’s probably cheating on her, too.”

“James isn’t like him,” she insisted stubbornly.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“That’s not how he thinks.”

“It’s how they all think,” Rory ground out.

“You’re wrong. You’ve got a warped sense of perception about men.”

“
I
have.”

Michelle was growing angry, too. Her cheeks flamed pink, and her eyes glittered. Distantly Rory realized she resembled her sister more in anger then at any other time. But they disagreed totally on men.

“I’ve listened to you put down men for years. They’re all bad. They’re all out to take advantage of you. You can’t trust them. They should be blasted off the face of the planet.”

“That’s a little over the top.”

“Is it? I think I might be understating it. The only man you’ve ever cared about is Nick, and it looks like you’ve blown that now, too.” To Rory startled look, she added flatly, “I’m not blind, you know. I can see you’re absolutely miserable. You could call him directly, but instead you call the office and just leave messages with his assistant. You don’t want to talk to him.”

Rory absorbed that, surprised that Michelle, who’d seemed sunk in total depression, had been so aware.

“He called while you were gone this morning,” she went on. “Right after James left. I was a mess, and Nick calmed me down. He told me to take one step at a time.”

“Trust Nick to be original.”

“See what I mean?” Michelle snapped. “As soon as we get down to real emotions, you say something flip and clever and meaningless.”

“Well, what am I supposed to say?” she snapped back.

“How you really feel! Just once!”

Michelle strode back to her lounge chair and sank onto it, spent. Rory was still angry, but the last thing she wanted to do was add to burden. “I’m sorry,” she said tightly. “Let’s not fight.”

Michelle nodded and closed her eyes.

“So, Nick called today?”

“He wanted to talk to you. Something about fishing this weekend with Mr. Martin.”

“Marsden.” Rory looked away, thinking about Nick’s invitation to the San Juan’s. The memory of being wrapped in his arms, of him thrusting into her, the wetness of his tongue, the seductive scent of his cologne, the roughness of his whiskers against her flesh, made her throat close with pure longing.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you two?” Michelle asked wearily.

Rory picked up Michelle’s glass, helping herself to a swallow of diluted iced-tea. “We slept together last weekend.”

She couldn’t have said anything to astound her sister more. Michelle sat bolt upright. “You did? You and Nick?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s… surprising. And terrific. No wonder you were gone all day Sunday. You said you were with Nick, but I thought you’d meant the night before.”

Rory squinted against the bright sunlight. She was uncomfortable with this topic. She’d never been able to get into the nitty-gritty kind of girl talk other friends she knew seemed to eat up.

“Was he at your place Monday when I called you?” Michelle asked perceptively.

Rory nodded again.

“Ah, okay…” She waited for Rory to say something and when she didn’t, she asked, “So, was it great. Oh, God, I didn’t spoil things, did I?”

“No, no. It was basically over already.”

“Why…?”

“I ended it. It was never going to work.”

“Oh, Rory.” Her voice was full of compassion and a kind of resigned disapproval.

“Unlike you, Michelle. I can’t set aside my pride and let a man walk all over me. It’s not worth the humiliation.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I’m not trying to be mean. You wanted to know.”

Michelle’s nostrils flared. “And what’s Nick done to walk all over you?”

Rory drew a breath and expelled it. “He hasn’t actually done it yet. I’m just getting prepared.”

Picking up her drink again, Michelle shook her head. “I don’t know which one of us is the bigger fool, but if I had to put my money on it, I’d pick you. You’re an idiot, Rory. You’re in love with him, and you won’t even give yourself a chance. At least I’m honest about what I want. But not you. Oh, no, not Rory Camden. Keep lying to yourself and you’ll get just what you’re asking for: a lifetime of loneliness!”

Rory unlocked the door to her apartment and was met by hot, breathless air, and a lonely, yowling cat. “Did you get locked inside?” she teased, scratching Problem’s head.

The Siamese trotted after her as she walked into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Problem’s bowl was low on water, too, so Rory refilled it, but the cat merely purred and rubbed her legs.

“Miss me?” Rory pulled Problem’s lanky body into her arms. “Between Mr. Little and myself, you’re not suffering. You’re just lucky he offered to feed you at all. He likes you way more than he lets on.”

Problem started squirming so she set him on his feet and let him out. With a disdainful flick of his tail he sauntered toward Mr. Little’s property.

Glancing anxiously toward her neighbor’s sliding glass door, Rory half expected the man to race out, broom in hand. But Problem appeared safe for the moment, his nine lives still intact.