Deceptions (28 page)

Chapter 12

From the time Garth brought her home from the hospital, Sabrina had not a moment alone. All she could think of was calling Stephanie, but Garth hovered over her, and Penny and Cliff danced about trying to be useful and admiring the cast that extended from her palm almost to her elbow. They brought her tea, ice cream and toasted English muffins, but

all she wanted was to be alone for five minutes with the telephone. She lay on the couch, feeling trapped, her head pounding, as her family bustled about, being helpful.

By eight o'clock her eyes were closing. She tried to suy awake, but her headache and the m^cation were like heavy, m\i£Qing blankets and the house faded away as she sank into sleep.

'Let's get you to bed,' Garth said.

She jerked awake. *No, I can manage—*

Tomorrow you'll manage.' He lifted her and carried her upstairs to the bedroom, sitting her down on the bed. 'Leave everything to me.' He unbuttoned her blouse and slid the right sleeve off her arm, then eased the other over the cast. Half asleep, Sabrina closed her eyes. / couldn't stop him even if I knew how. And it doesn't make any difference anyway.

Supporting her with one arm. Garth pulled down her blue jeans and underpants, then unhooked her brassiere. He drew in his breath sharply as he saw the bruises covering the left side of her body. 'Poor love, you must feel as if that truck ran over you.' She opened her eyes, but he had moved to the bureau to take out a clean nightgown.

'I'm going to raise your arm; tell me if I hurt you.' He slipped the nightgown over her head. Like a child, she put her other arm through the strap as he held it. 'Now, stand up for a minute.' He pulled back the blanket and sheet, helped her into bed and covered her. For a moment he stood quietly looking down at her. 'If you're in pain, or need anything tonight, I'll be here. Just poke me and I'll wake up.'

Unexpectedly, tears came to her tyos. You are so good. And I do want you near me, 1 hurt all over and I wish you would hold me and comfort me. But you're Stephanie's husband. I can't even tell you I'm glad you're close by.

'Good night,* she said, and in a moment was asleep.

Garth was up and dressed before she awoke on Sunday morning. She had not heard him come to bed, had not been aware of him sleeping beside her, but when she opened her eyes he was there to help her dress, and he and the children stayed nearby for the rest of the day. Sabrina thought wiyly of how she had told Stephanie she wanted the experience of

a family. Well, she had it. But she wished she could have a few precious minutes of the aloneness of her London house.

In the afternoon Garth helped her upstairs to take a nap. As soon as he left the room she reached for the telephone, but it rang beneath her hand. Someone answered it downstairs, and before she could tiy again she fell asleep.

'Dolores called,' Garth said, coming in as she awoke. *She*s bringing dinner about six. And Linda has volunteered for Monday. If I go through town with my notebook, I may be able to sign up enough cooks for a year of dinners.' He paused, but she only smiled. 'Do you want to see Dolores when she comes?'

'Not today. Maybe I will tomorrow.' She felt defeated, making plans for tomorrow. Monday. The day she was supposed to meet Stephanie at the airport and go back to London, to pick up her own life. Our adventure is over, she thought. But how do I end it?

At the dinner table she was quiet as Garth served Dolores's casserole and pumpkin pie and made conversation with the children. He was baffled by his wife's behavior. She never gave in easily to pain or illness. But now she not only showed pain, she showed fear? - even something like panic. What was she afraid of? When he asked her, she shrank from him, shaking her head, so he dropped it. He felt helpless and angxy. Why wouldn't she let him help her, let him be her husband instead of someone she feared or distrusted?

After dinner she reftised his offer of a sponge bath and his helping hand to climb the stairs. 'I can manage. But thank you.'

She had stopped worrying about what Garth thought of her behavior; he would soon know the truth anyway. The problem was Stephanie. She would be leaving for the airport in a few hours. / have to warn her, give her time to think about how she'll handle the mess I've made.

She lay in bed, her mind spinning. She dozed, slept, woke when Garth came to bed, then forced herself to stay awake, watching the clock. OneA.M., one-thirty, two. Eight a.m. in London. Garth's breathing was deep and regular. She slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs into the breakfast room,

where she found the telephone in the dark and at last, in a low voice, gave the operator her own number.

The telephone rang in London; Sabrina could picture Mrs Thirkell when she answered, and her bedroom when Stephanie came on the line.

'Sabrina! I was just getting ready to leave. Is anything wrong?'

Rapidly, Sabrina told her about her accident.

'Are you badly hurt?'

'Nothing serious. I look a mess, bruised and battered, and I have an awful headache - a mild concussion, Nat says. But the real problem is my wrist. I ... fractured it. It's in a cast.'

Stephanie said nothing. Sabrina, her head pounding, closed her eyes. '1 had to warn you so you could think about it on the plane.'

Stephanie's voice was faint. 'Think about it?*

'How to tell Garth. Stephanie, I'm sorry, it's all my fault. At first I thought I could tell him and pave the way before you got here, but I can't, Stephanie; I'd only make things worse.'

There was no answer. 'Stephanie, don't you see, if you tell him right away, if the two of you talk about it together so he doesn't brood about it alone, you could work it out.'

The static of the telephone line stretched between them. In the peacock and ivoiy bedroom Stephanie listened to it, hunched over on the chaise, one arm held tightly across her stomach. 'Sabrina, you've lived with him for a week, do you honestly think he'd go on as if nothing had happened?'

'No, things would be different, but that doesn't mean they'd be worse. If you love each other—'

'Love has nothing to do with it. He'll say we've made a fool of him—'

'Well, we have, haven't we? He isn't a fool, but we fooled him.'

'You fooled him. And how do I make that all right? It's not like a quarrel—'

'No.' In a quarrel, Sabrina thought, two people are equal. In a deception, one person knows everything and the other knows nothing. When Garth discovers that he's been trying

to patch the problems of his marriage with a woman who is not his wife but his sister-in-law; that his wife and sister-in-law have played a monstrous joke on him ... She slumped in her chair. *I thought I was giving you a gift. A week for yourself. But all I've brought is destruction.'

'It's my fault. He's my husband. I didn't let myself think what would happen if he found out.' Stephanie closed her eyes. He'd never understand why I did it, she thought, never forgive me. It would be the end of everything for us. 'I can't tell him/she said.

•But if I doit—'

'No, that would be worse. Oh, I don't know what to do. If only we could ... Sabrina! Why couldn't we fake it?'

•Fake—r

•Tell Nat what we've done. I'll wear a cast and he could pretend to take care of me and no one would know the difference.'

'I thought of that. But if you could see me... Stephanie, my whole side is black and blue and I have a cut on my forehead—'

'Oh.' Stephanie suddenly felt very sleepy. All she wanted was to curl up and forget everything. 'Just a minute,' she said to Sabrina, and, putting the telephone in her lap, she rubbed her eyes with her fists like a child trying not to cry. Garth, I'm sorry, she said silently. I didn't realize what I was doing. And I'm afraid. I don't know what's going to happen. She looked at the telephone in her lap, connecting her to Sabrina, and through her to Garth. There was nothing else to do. She picked it up. 'Will you be at the airport?'

Sabrina hesitated, 'AH right. Of course.'

'What is it? Can't you drive?'

'Nat said I shouldn't, but there's no reason—*

'No, it's all right. I guess I can meet you at home. But what about Penny and Cliff?'

'Cliff has soccer practice, and Penny can go to Barbara Goodman's. I'll take care of it.'

'I'll see you in a few hours.' Stephanie hung up before either of them could say anything else.

Sabrina covered hei face with her hands. In the dark

silence the minutes passed. Garth, I care about you. Forgive me. Stephanie, I love you, I wanted to give you —

The telephone began to ring and she grabbed it. 'Stephanie?'

'Sabrina, I can't do it, I can't do it. Please help me. I can't face him, I can't tell him. I can't do it!'

'All right.' Sabrina took a deep breath. 'I'll talk to him this morning, as soon as Penny and Cliff—'

'No!'

'But what do you want me to do, then?'

'Stay there. Could you do that? Would it be too terrible for you to stay until the cast comes off, or whatever happens next? Would it be very long? A couple of weeks? How long would it be?'

'Nat said four weeks.' Sabrina sat up, her thoughts racing. Stay here. But how can I? I have Ambassadors, my home, my friends, a future that I have to make. This is not my life.

'What happens in four weeks?* Stephanie asked. Her voice was growing stronger.

'More X rays. And, if my wrist is healed, Nat takes off the cast.'

'Well, I could come back then. No one would ever know. Sabrina ... ' Stephanie's voice was still stronger, pleading but excited. 'Everything is fine here; I can even take care of Ambassadors for you. I sold the French beaded bag-I'll tell you about it later. And you could manage, I know you could. We'd just go on doing the same things we've been doing, more of the same. Doesn't it make sense to keep on? Sabrina? Just four more weeks? Then no one would be hurt.*

'Wait. 'Sabrina said. Her headache was pressing against her eyes, and she tried to think. She probably could do it. The week had gone so quickly; four weeks wasn't a long time, and there still were things she wanted to do here. In fact, she liked it here. And it was Stephanie's decision. But—'Stephanie, I don't know if I can manage for four weeks... with Garth.'

Stephanie sucked in her breath. The bedroom dimmed as clouds moved across the tall windows, broken here and there by a pale silver sun. 'He's gone longer than four weeks without making love to me.*

'Stephanie. Two weeks in China. One week just ended. And four more. Seven weeks. Do you really think—?'

'You can manage. I know you can. It means so much to me - to my marriage.'

'What about later?'

'What about it?'

'If Garth finds out later, what will you tell him? The longer it lasts, the more impossible it is to defend. Stephanie, you could explain one week and go on from there, but would you have a marriage if he found out we'd played this joke on him for five weeks?'

The clouds scudded past the window, playing hide and seek with the sun. 'I wouldn't have a marriage. But I don't think I'd have one now, either, if I came home this afternoon and told him. So what difference does it make? Sabrina, I'm begging yon--*

A knot unraveled inside Sabrina, and a thought sprang full-blown within her;/'i/ have a family for a while longer. 'AH right. But we have to talk; there are so many things to talk about. Ambassadors, Antonio - will you call me later, when I'm alone?'

'Of course, whenever you want. Sabrina, I wish I knew how to thank you. I know it isn't your kind of life, it's dull and—'

'Stephanie?'

Garth's voice.

Sabrina cupped her hand over the phone. 'I have to go; Garth is awake. Call me later, about ten my time.'

'Yes, I will. Sabrina, thank—*

She hung up and was standing at the refrigerator when Garth came into the kitchen.

'Is anything wrong?' he asked.

'I was suddenly ravenous. Which probably means I've recovered.'

'I wish you'd wakened me.*

She smiled to ease the worry in his eyes. 'I wanted to let you sleep. But now that you're here, shall we finish Dolores's pumpkin pie?'

'At the risk of Clifford's wrath,' he said with a chuckle. And in the honey-coloured breakfast room, with the house

dark and silent around them* they sat together and ate from one plate.

Chapter 13

Garth looked at his Monday morning genetics class and saw instead the sleeping face of Stephanie. Alabaster skin flushed with rose, auburn hair tumbled against the white pillow, eyelids fluttering as she dreamed.

A student asked a complicated question and he answered briefly. Smartass, he thought, trying to impress the professor with a question that could fill a book. The professor is not impressed. Anyway, he's groggy from 3:00am pumpkin pic with his wife.

He dismissed the class early.

He'd call her, see how she was, then finish his paperwork so he could get to the lab before his next class. He took the stairs two at a time to his office. New gold lettering had appeared on the door: Garth Andersen» ?h D Department Chairman. He opened the door to tell his secretaiy to have it removed, then changed his mind. She had done it for him. For a year he'd resisted advertising himself while she argued that it was important for students and visitors to know he was chairman of the Department of Molecular Biology. Today, it seemed, she had ended the discussion by ordering the lettering on her own. He shrugged. It might make him seem more important to her and others; to him, the title simply meant more administrative work and less time in the lab.

He dialed his home number, but the line was busy. Beside the telephone was a reminder: 'Call Ted Morrow.' Damn, he'd forgotten.

He called and told him about the accident, and that Stephanie could not work for a week. 'And she won't be able to type for about four weeks, so if you hire someone else she says she'll understand.'

'Not to worry. Garth; we'll wait for her.'

Garth dialed his number again, but the line was still busy. He leafed through his mail. A bill for overdue books from the libraiy, letters from biologists in Amsterdam and Stockholm, an advertisement for laboratory equipment, notice of a meeting with the vice president to discuss Vivian Goodman. If they kept going at this snail's pace, Vivian might get a life contract on her ninetieth birthday. And at the bottom of the stack, an airline ticket to San Francisco with his schedule for a week-long genetics conference in Berkeley beginning October 6. Less than two weeks away. Something else he'd forgotten.