Disguised Blessing (23 page)

“Nothing complicated. It was selfishness—pure and simple. I wanted you.” He held her tighter when she tried to pull away. “I’m only sorry that you’re sorry.”

“If I’d known how you feel I never would have let this happen tonight.” Tears of regret burned her throat. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had no choice. “I am sorry, Rick,” she said in a choked
whisper. “More sorry than I can say. I don’t love you. I can’t.”

“But you do, Catherine. You just don’t know it yet.”

“You’re wrong. It would never work out between us. We’re too different.” She looked deeply into his eyes. “And I’m too worn-down to try to change who I am…even for you.”

“I would never ask you to change.”

“Then you’ll have to let me go, because it wouldn’t work any other way.”

Finally, nodding, he released her hands. “I’ll find someone else to mentor Lynda.”

The weight in her chest turned to regret. She would give anything to go back, just a couple of hours, to erase the words that had set them on this path, to forget his exquisite, selfless lovemaking. “She won’t understand,” she said, struggling to breathe against the regret.

“I’ll find a way,” he promised.

“I’ll miss you.” Unshed tears sent the words out in a rush and stripped them of their true depth of feeling.

He leaned forward and brought her to him for an infinitely sad and tender kiss. “Having you in my life gave me more happiness than I’d ever known. I let myself believe it was only the beginning, and forgot that belief had to be shared.”

“I’m sorry.” She managed to turn her back to him before he could see her tears. Still he touched her, offering her comfort when she’d just broken his heart. Desperately she wished it could be different,
that she could take another chance, that she could trust herself one more time.

It would be so easy to give in. Rick loved her. What did it matter that they had Lynda in common and nothing else? So their relationship only lasted a year or two. Couldn’t she glory in the good while they were together and be philosophical about the bad when it ended?

So what that she would be a three-time loser. So what that her pride would be dealt a crushing blow. Surely she could pick up the pieces and go on.

But what if she couldn’t?

T
HE SKY WAS THE DEEP PURPLE OF FALSE DAWN WHEN
Catherine arrived home. More out of need for shelter and isolation than out of exhaustion, she crawled into bed and curled into a fetal position, her pillow a sponge for her tears.

Finally, she cried herself to sleep.

The phone rang, dragging her from unconsciousness into a world she wasn’t yet ready to face. When she could no longer ignore the summons by incorporating it into a dream, she snaked her arm out from under the sheet and answered.

“Hello?”

“Catherine? Is that you?”

“Why are you calling this early, Jack? Is something wrong?” She gave up the hope she could go back to sleep, tucked her pillow against the headboard, and sat up.

“It’s almost noon,” he said judgmentally. “Late night?” he added.

“What do you want?”

“We need to talk. I was hoping you could meet me at Scott’s Seafood for lunch.”

“Today?” She didn’t feel like going anywhere, let alone to lunch with Jack.

“Isn’t Lynda coming home tomorrow?”

“Yes…” She didn’t like the way this was going.

“It would be better if she wasn’t around for this.” He paused. “It concerns her as much as it does us.”

“And it’s something that can’t be handled over the phone?”

“I’d prefer to do it in person.”

“What time?”

“One? Can you make it by then?”

She looked at the clock. That gave her an hour to get ready and a half hour to drive into town. She could make it if the freeway was clear. “I’ll be there.”

Grateful for the distraction that meeting Jack provided, Catherine managed to put aside her annoyance at being summoned. She spotted him the minute she entered the restaurant, bypassing the hostess with a quick smile.

“You’re late,” he said when she was seated.

“Five minutes.”

“Must have been some night.”

He was fishing and she refused to bite. “Have you heard the specials?”

“Salmon and some kind of chowder.” He motioned for the waiter. “We’re ready to order.”

She smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry, I still need a few minutes.”

“Something to drink?” the waiter asked.

“Club soda with lime.”

“Hangover?” Jack asked when the waiter had gone.

She didn’t bother looking up. “Having trouble at home, Jack?”

He didn’t say anything for several seconds. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

The apology brought a reaction. She put the menu aside. “Now that we have the small talk out of the way, why don’t you tell me why you wanted me here?”

He moved forward in his chair. “I’ve been going over my finances. I know I promised I’d hold off having your alimony reduced, but I don’t see how I can any longer.”

“And you’re willing to have my lawyer look at your financial records?” She knew how much the idea would upset him.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then I guess I am.”

Not even a full-time job would get her and Lynda through this. She was going to have to sell the house. “Are you sure it has to be now? You couldn’t hold off a couple of months?”

“What possible difference would that make?”

“Lynda would be established back in school by then. I want her to have that much stability before I tell her she has to leave the house she’s lived in all of her life.”

The waiter brought her drink and they ordered.
He was barely gone when Jack said, “You’re making me out to be the bad guy in this. You always do that to me.”

“And you’re putting me on the defensive, the way you always do. What happened to our détente? I thought we were going to work together to make Lynda’s life better.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, hard. “I’m trying, Catherine. I really am.”

“But?”

“I’m broke. Or damn near.” When he looked at her again, there were tears in his eyes. “I went out on a limb with something that was supposed to be surefire and it wasn’t. Adriana’s income is the only thing that’s keeping us afloat right now.”

She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Their salads came. “What are you going to do?”

“Start over. What else can I do?”

“Lynda’s college fund?” She hated to ask but had to know.

“It’s there.” He picked up his fork and put it down again. “I assume you still have your savings?”

Not nearly as much as she’d started out with. Images of St. John knits, club dues, and the money she’d continued to spend after her paychecks stopped whirled through her mind. “Some.”

“Enough to get by?”

“One way or another.”

“You know I’ll resume paying you the full alimony as soon as I’m on my feet again.”

She believed him, but it didn’t affect her the way
she would have expected. She was scared about what lay ahead, but she was strangely exhilarated, too. Without the house, she could get by on a tenth of the income she’d needed. If she took the profit from the sale and bought something she could manage without outside help, she and Lynda could get by on what she made—even if it were only a part-time job.

“We’ll talk about that later,” she said. She was suddenly ravenously hungry. “Stop worrying, Jack. It will all work out.”

He gave her a surprised look. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Tears? Panic? Threats? Teethgnashing?”

“That’s how you see me?” She really wanted to know.

“That’s how you’ve always been, Catherine. You’ve never handled crises well. Why would I think you’d behave any differently now?”

“I’ve changed,” she said. The why and where and how she would think about later. Right now it was enough to know she would get through this.

He studied her for a long time. “I can see that now.”

Satisfied, she smiled.

Before Catherine left the restaurant, she looked up the address of the Firefighters’ Union Hall in the telephone book, deciding she might as well get started on her new life as soon as possible. She went there figuring it wouldn’t hurt to have a little practice applying for a job; she left employed.

She was to start a week from Monday, the same day Lynda would go back to school. Through the entire interview, she’d had a surreal feeling that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, that this was the way she was supposed to say good-bye to Rick and still see him occasionally. She would never be able to pay him back for all he had done for her and Lynda, but for once in her life, her actions would speak louder than her words.

Walking into the real estate office brought an unexpected lump to her throat. It seemed even something that had become a burden could be hard to let go.

The agent gave Catherine a rough estimate on what she could expect the house to bring, basing the figure on several similar houses that had sold in the area. She added that while spring was a better selling time, the demand for homes in Granite Bay seemed to hold steady throughout the year. With luck, the house could be sold and they could be out by Christmas.

The meeting was businesslike and friendly and the agent had the intuition or good sense not to ask Catherine why she had decided to sell. In the end, she only hesitated a moment before she signed the papers that would put the house on the market.

When she left the office and got in her car, her hands shook so badly she had to make three attempts to get the key in the ignition.

She was scared. And she was excited. And she was heavyhearted. How could she do so many things right and so many wrong in the same day?

“
Y
OU’RE SELLING, THE HOUSE
?” L
YNDA SAT UP
A from her massage and grabbed a towel to wrap around her. “Why? Where will we go? How could you do this without telling me? Don’t I get a say? It’s my house, too, you know.”

Catherine wiped the lotion off her hands. Knowing it would be impossible to continue afterward, she’d waited until the massage was almost over before telling Lynda. Although Lynda had handled the news about the job better than Catherine had expected, she’d harbored no illusions that the same thing would happen when Lynda heard about the house. If she could, Catherine would have waited. Dumping news of both the job and the house on Lynda the first day back from camp was a lot for her to take in. But the last thing she wanted was for Lynda to come home from her date with Brian and find a For Sale sign on the front lawn.

“It wasn’t a matter of choice,” Catherine said. “I have to sell.” She tossed her towel into the hamper.

“Why?”

“Because we can’t afford to live here anymore.”

“But you have a job now.”

“It doesn’t pay enough to cover the taxes and insurance on this place.”

“Can’t you get a better job?”

“I’m not qualified for anything better.” She took a clean washcloth out of the drawer, wet it, and wiped down the table. “I’m not a career woman, Lynda. I’m someone who held a job for a couple of years. There’s a huge difference.”

“I don’t understand. What about Dad? Can’t you get more money from him?”

She flinched at the suggestion. Lynda had learned that lesson by example. “He’s having problems himself. Until he gets back on his feet, he isn’t going to be able to pay full alimony, or child support. Besides, I think it’s time I started taking care of myself, don’t you?”

“Where will we go? You’re not going to make me change schools, are you?”

“No, I’m not going to make you change schools. As for where we’ll go, I’m not sure yet. We have a lot of places we can explore—the entire city, the entire county. I was going to look for another house to buy, but I think we should rent for a while.”

“I don’t want to live in an apartment. Anything but that.”

“Good, neither do I. I was thinking more along the lines of a house. One with a big yard so we could get a dog.”

Finally something positive, something hopeful
penetrated. “Really? I thought you didn’t like dogs.”

“I changed my mind.” Actually, it was Jack who hadn’t liked dogs. She’d simply gone along. The way she had with so many other things in their marriage.

“Are we poor now?” Lynda asked. Before Catherine could answer, she added, “Does this mean I’m not getting a car for my birthday?”

“Maybe,” she hedged. And then, “Probably.”

“What about college?”

“That’s taken care of.”

Lynda pressed her back into the wall and gently moved from side to side. The itching had started again. “Everything has changed,” she said softly. “I can’t count on anything anymore.”

“You can count on me.”

“How do I know that, Mom?” When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “I thought I could count on being a cheerleader and wearing tank tops and living in this house forever and being homecoming queen and having a father who loved me enough to want to see me once in a while, and I wasn’t right about any of it. Why should I think you’re any different?”

“Because you know I am. I might disappoint you sometimes, and I might not always be able to do things the way you want them done, but I will always be here for you.” She went to her and took her in her arms. “I know you’re not ready to hear this, and I know it’s going to be hard for you to believe, but I know in my heart that someday we’re going to look back at this year and remember the good more than we do the bad.”

“I hate it when you do that.” She propped her chin on Catherine’s shoulder. “I don’t want to feel better. Not yet, anyway.”

Catherine closed her eyes against the overwhelming feeling of relief that washed over her. “I know. But it’s bound to happen sooner or later, so it might as well be now. You don’t want to mess up your night out with Brian worrying about something neither one of us can change.”

“There’s no way we can keep the house?”

Catherine shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” She adjusted her towel. “I better get ready. Brian’s always early.”

“Where are you going?”

“His house. It’s his brother’s birthday.”

“You didn’t tell me. Did you get him a present?”

“Brian took care of it.” She was halfway through the door when she stopped and turned back. “You went to Rick’s house, didn’t you?”

The question took Catherine off guard. “What makes you think that?”

“The dog thing. You want one because you saw Blue.”

“I was there the night we came up to see you,” she said.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What did you think?”

“Blue’s a terrific dog. Everything you said he was. I’d take him in a minute, but I don’t think we could get Rick or his neighbor to give him to us.”

“Not Blue. What did you think about the house?”

“I loved it.” That didn’t begin to describe her feelings. Rick’s house was a home, the very thing she’d tried so hard to make for her and Lynda.

“Do you think we could rent one like that?”

“I don’t think there is another house like Rick’s.” And if there were, it would be out of their price range. No one in their right mind would trust that kind of craftsmanship to a renter.

The doorbell rang. “That
can’t
be Brian,” Lynda said, clearly believing it was. She flew to the window. “Oh, my God. It is.” She sent Catherine a pleading look. “Tell him I’m almost ready.” She ran down the hall to her bedroom. “Fifteen minutes. No, make that ten.”

Catherine opened the door with a flourish and a broad smile. The smile faded when she saw the look on Brian’s face. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

He came in and stood in the foyer. “Where’s Lynda?” he asked softly.

“Upstairs getting ready. We were talking and lost track of time.”

He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Ray’s in the hospital. I tried calling him before I came over and his aunt said he has some kind of kidney infection. I asked for the number at the hospital and she said he was out of it most of the time and couldn’t talk.” He glanced up the stairs toward Lynda’s room. “I don’t know how much I should tell her. She was so upset about not being here when Ray left, I’m afraid she’ll freak if she finds out he’s sick.”

“How bad is it?”

Brian shrugged. “All I know for sure is that he’s
bad enough to be in the hospital. I don’t think his aunt would put him there unless it was serious.”

“She probably didn’t have a choice. It’s my understanding that kidney problems are fairly common with burn patients. Lynda was checked constantly when she was in the hospital.”

“But shouldn’t Ray be past that kind of thing by now?”

He wanted reassurance that she couldn’t give him. “I don’t know. His burns were so much worse than Lynda’s.”

“Should I tell her?”

To ask him to wait would make his burden heavier, but Lynda had already been given enough to deal with. “Can you wait a couple of days? She could use a breather.”

“Sure.”

She was touched by his easy acceptance. Her incredible, beautiful, thoughtful daughter deserved someone like Brian, just as he deserved someone as wonderful as Lynda. She was so glad they had found each other.

“Lynda’s going to be a few more minutes. Would you like something to drink?”

“You have any lemonade?”

“Coming up.”

He followed her into the kitchen and stood at the window where she’d hung the hummingbird feeder. “You get any birds yet?”

“A couple. I haven’t been home to watch for them lately.” She no sooner had the words out than an Anna’s hummingbird swooped in to land at the feeder.

“I bought a feeder for my mom, too. The hummingbirds found hers right away. Now she’s going to get one for up at the lake. Dad said she’ll have them hanging everywhere in a couple of months.”

Catherine handed Brian his lemonade. “Rick tells me you’re thinking about becoming a firefighter.”

“Me and ten thousand other guys.” He sounded discouraged. “And ten thousand women, too.”

“I’m sure if you’re still interested after you finish college, you won’t have any trouble getting a job.”

He gave her a disbelieving look. “Rick must not have told you how hard it is to get into his department—or any fire department. In the bigger cities there are hundreds of applicants for every job opening.”

“Why?” The question was automatic—and insulting. She’d done the same thing to Rick. Would she never learn? “I’m sorry, Brian. I just don’t understand the allure, and I’m afraid your parents won’t, either. Why would you want to do something that hard and dangerous when it pays so little?”

“Because it matters. How many people can say that about what they do?”

The words were an echo of Rick’s, but she innately knew they were Brian’s. She should have known. Take away the years and circumstances and Rick and Brian were as alike as leaves from the same tree.

“I’m ready,” Lynda called, bounding down the stairs. She beamed when she saw Brian and turned in a circle, her long, flowered skirt swirling sensuously around her legs. With her hand on top of her
head to hold on a hat with a turned-up brim and matching flowers, she did a quick curtsy and asked, “How do I look?”

“Awesome,” Brian said appreciatively. “Wait until my brother sees you in that dress.”

Lynda grinned and looked at Catherine. “Jimmy has a little crush on me.”

“‘Little,’ hell. It’s more the size of a boulder,” Brian said. “One he’d hit me over the head with if he thought he could get away with it.”

Jimmy was the youngest of the Winslow boys, ten years old and running hard to try to catch up. “Sounds a little like your father when he was that age,” Catherine said.

“That’s what Mom tells him.” Brian took Lynda’s hand and turned to Catherine, a sudden thought sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, you want to come tonight? It’s nothing formal, just a barbecue in the backyard.”

Catherine smiled. “Thanks, but I have some things I have to get done around here. Closets to clean, that kind of thing. We’re having an open house next weekend.”

“Open house? Isn’t that what you do when you’re—”

Lynda tugged him toward the front door. “I’ll tell you about it in the car.”

Catherine walked them out and waved good-bye. It was a perfect night for a barbecue, hot but not suffocating. The mosquitoes would be out, but not in numbers so great that they couldn’t be controlled with citronella candles and a little yard spray.

Now that she was alone again, her plans for the evening seemed as empty as she felt. Without the distractions she’d used to keep from thinking about Rick, she had to deal with what had happened between them.

She wasn’t ready for another relationship. At least not a serious one. How could she be, when she was struggling to learn how to stand by herself for the first time in her life. Rick wanted more than she had to give. She couldn’t love someone casually. Loving required commitment. A commitment she owed to Lynda.

Lynda came first. She had to. And while Catherine was prepared to let Rick walk out of her life, she couldn’t let him walk out of Lynda’s.

Before she could find a reason to change her mind, she went back inside and dialed the number at Rick’s fire station. Her stomach did a quick roll with every ring.

She was about to hang up when he answered. “Captain Sawyer.”

“Rick, it’s Catherine.”

There was a long pause. “Great minds, I guess. I was going to call you later.”

“Is this a bad time?” She was acutely aware that he could be called away at any moment, and she always felt the need to talk fast.

“We just got back from a fire and I don’t like to leave all the cleanup to the crew, but I have a few minutes before they miss me.”

“Was it bad?”

“Garage. The people lost their Mercedes but we
got the dog out, so the kids were happy. You didn’t call to hear this, Catherine.”

She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “It’s Lynda. I’m sorry for asking. I know how hard it would be for you to keep seeing her, but is there a way you could—”

“I’m not going to find her another mentor, Catherine. What I said was a knee-jerk reaction, and I’ve felt like an ass ever since for letting it happen.” He paused. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

There were a hundred things she could say, things she should say. The one she chose was the one from her heart. “Don’t give up on me. Not yet, anyway. I have a long way to go, but I’m trying hard.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Catherine. When you’re ready, you know where you can find me.”

There wasn’t anything else to say. She told him good-bye, replaced the receiver, and took out the bottle of Randle’s Roost Rick had given her for her birthday. She poured herself a glass and went out on the deck. The sun set slowly that evening, painting the sky with a liquid fire that dripped onto the horizon.

Somewhere in the city, a man she didn’t understand sat and waited for the call that told him someone needed him. He would answer the call regardless of its tedium or danger, do what he could to help, and then slip away to wait for the next summons. For the people who thought to offer thanks after their rush of adrenaline had settled, it would be too late. If they tried the next day, their rescuers would be gone, replaced by others of their kind on another shift.

She’d come to understand that firefighters were silent heroes in an age of role models who raged at each other on professional basketball courts and football fields. Their silence was a part of their basic makeup. Their bonus checks were hearts that restarted at their dogged insistence; their vacations were smiles elicited from children at camp; their country club dues were preschoolers who tramped through the fire station with stars in their eyes.

How could she expect to understand Rick when she’d never known anyone like him?