Authors: Debbie Macomber
As for his own outbursts, Pierre was seldom angry for long. Once he’d vented, it was over for him—but not for her. Perhaps things could change if her reactions to him did.
“He eats standing up out of habit,” Winter murmured. “He tastes food in the kitchen at work and he’s on his feet, so it’s natural for him to do it at home, too.”
“What can you do to get him to sit down?”
“Well, I know that getting angry doesn’t work. Perhaps if I tell him the meal’s ready and politely ask him to sit with me.”
“You could try that. Or you could stand and join him,” Alix suggested.
Winter laughed, and for the first time since their separation, she felt real hope.
“How’d your mother-in-law figure all this out?” Winter asked.
Alix shrugged. “Her own experience. That, and because she’s talked to so many young wives with similar problems.”
“Sounds like you married into a great family.”
Alix nodded in agreement. “Jordan’s a good husband and he’ll be a wonderful father.” Alix relaxed in her chair and folded her hands over her stomach. “Talking with
Susan helped me confront my fears about motherhood, too. Like I said earlier, I might not be a perfect mother, but I intend to be the best one possible.”
“I think your baby’s fortunate to have two loving parents.”
Winter’s compliment produced a huge smile from Alix. “Thank you, Winter.”
“And thank
you
for these ideas. Hey, if you ever decide to change careers—not that I want you to—you could be a counselor.”
Still smiling, Alix left the office, and Winter got up to close the door. She returned to her computer and sent Pierre a message saying simply that she looked forward to their meeting next week.
Then she began to plan her first stand-up dinner with Pierre.
T
he week passed quickly. I was busy and so was Macy. She had a couple of radio spots that paid the bills for all her animals’ vaccinations. She was also helping her friend Sherry Franklin at a local craft show. Sher was a potter who relied on Macy at these events; one day soon, I hoped to see her in action, charming hordes of people into buying Sher’s cat-shaped mugs and bowls. Macy had done some work on the mural, but I didn’t mind that its completion was delayed by these other commitments. It just meant I’d have her at the clinic longer. In any case, we’d managed to talk every day and see each other three separate evenings. Thursday, the night before the awards dinner, Macy showed me the dress she planned to wear.
She sat me down on her sofa, and with all three cats around me, one on each side and Snowball on the back of the sofa, I waited patiently for the grand unveiling. Sammy rested at
my feet, his chin on my shoes. It was a characteristic posture of his and one that, according to Macy, signified his approval of me.
When Macy appeared I nearly slid off the sofa. In a word, Macy’s dress was stunning. I’m not much for fashion and I couldn’t name a designer if my life depended on it, but I knew this dress was out of the ordinary. She’d purchased it at a tremendous discount while modeling for a catalog shoot.
Seeing Macy in that dress took my breath away. “I’ll be the envy of every man there,” I told her. “You could walk on the red carpet at the Oscars and not be out of place.”
Macy blushed with pleasure.
At one time I’d dreaded this whole outing, but now I regarded it with a pleasurable sense of anticipation. I’d be proud to have Macy with me tomorrow evening. Ritchie had purchased tickets for himself and Steph, and Patrick would be at my table, as well as his wife, Melanie. So would our third partner, Yvette Schauer, and her husband. This would be the ideal opportunity to introduce Macy. And of course, I had the ring for later. I pictured Macy and me toasting each other with champagne, imagined slipping the diamond on her finger…
Macy stroked the dress. “It hardly cost anything and I bought it on faith that one day I’d have somewhere special to wear it.”
Apparently, buying things on faith was a habit of hers. “Faith, not trust?” I asked.
“No, faith,” she insisted. “The way I figured it, if this dress came to my attention, then there’d be an occasion when I’d
need it.” She fanned out the skirt at her sides. “Now I
do
have an occasion to wear it. Same with the dog food.”
“Dog food? What’s the connection between this dress and dog food?”
“There isn’t one. But you see, about a month before I found Sammy, I happened upon a closeout sale on dog food and bought a twenty-five-pound bag. Naturally I didn’t know at the time that Sammy would turn up in my life, so when he did, I was prepared. Well, sort of.”
“Sort of?” I wondered where this answer would lead our conversation. Macy was unlike anyone I’d ever known and she saw the world in what I could only describe as a very individual way. The more I was around her the more I was enthralled. I’d grieved for Hannah so long and so intensely that I’d forgotten how addictive joy could be.
“Well,” she went on to explain, “the night I found Sammy I’d forgotten about the dog food and fed him the same thing I do the cats. He was too hungry to be choosy, but all along I had that twenty-five-pound bag of kibble on the back porch and I’d completely forgotten about it. I remembered it the next afternoon. He was a happy camper after that.”
I had to laugh. “That explains it, then.”
“Will the dress do?” she asked, whirling around one last time to offer me a full view.
“It’s perfect.” And it was.
She made an elegant little curtsy in response.
“Shall I pick you up at five-thirty?” I asked, reaching
down to pet Sammy. “The dinner starts at seven, but there’s a social hour first.”
“Could you come at five forty-five?” she asked.
I frowned, suddenly suspicious. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
She avoided eye contact. “The shoot for the TV commercial is tomorrow.”
I exhaled slowly as understanding dawned. I remembered now. Of course this new job was important to Macy, but tomorrow’s dinner was important to me. Important to both of us, although she didn’t know that yet. “You’re afraid the taping might run late?”
She nodded. “We’re supposed to be done by five, but there are no guarantees.”
I mulled it over, then gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll make it work.”
“How?”
“I’ll go on to the dinner ahead of you, and you can join me once you’re done, no matter how late it is.” This was a sensible compromise. I’d rather have Macy with me when I arrived, but that couldn’t be helped. And afterward, I’d bring her back to my house—Hannah’s house—for the first time. Because soon, I hoped, it would be Macy’s, too.
“You don’t mind?” she breathed.
“It’ll be fine.” Seeing the relief on her face was all the reward I needed. Although I wouldn’t object if she wanted to express her gratitude in other ways…
As if reading my thoughts, Macy threw her arms around me and brought her mouth to mine. I pulled her into my
lap and kissed her repeatedly, unzipping the back of her dress. While my hands explored her slim body, she smiled and spread happy kisses over my face. I could see that my life with Macy was going to be a wild ride—one I was eager to experience.
Friday night, I arrived at the hotel as scheduled and made excuses for Macy. All during the cocktail hour, I watched and waited expectantly. Obviously, the TV shoot had gone on much longer than planned. I could only imagine how nerve-racking this must be for her.
She still hadn’t appeared when the ballroom doors were opened, but I wasn’t too concerned, even though the crowd had begun to file in.
“You sure she’s coming?” Ritchie muttered, following me into the ballroom. This was a question he’d asked more than once.
“She’ll be here,” I said confidently as we wove between tables looking for our assigned seating. The room was filling up quickly.
Because I’d been nominated for this award, my table was close to the front of the massive ballroom. I’d told Macy that the table number was listed on the dinner ticket and hoped she’d notice it.
“Is she perpetually late?” Ritchie asked as we found our place.
“She has a part in a commercial,” I said. I’d explained as much several times.
We sat down with one empty space next to me. The salads were already on the table and the noise of clanking
silverware and conversation rose to the vaulted ceiling. I’d selected my seat so I had a view of the door. I wanted to see Macy as soon as she came in.
The poached salmon with wild rice and asparagus was brought out by an army of servers in white jackets. As they moved smoothly about the ballroom, I became aware of a commotion in the back. The noise level instantly fell as half the room turned to find out what had caused the ruckus.
I swallowed tightly, instinctively knowing this involved Macy.
“If you’ll excuse me a moment?” I said to my friends. I set my linen napkin beside my plate and stood.
Sure enough, it was Macy. She stood at the entrance to the ballroom, arguing with one of the security guards. I blinked when I saw her. The dress she’d previewed for me the night before was nowhere in sight. Instead, she had on a housedress that resembled something my grandmother might have worn. She clutched a large purse to her chest as though it held every valuable she possessed.
“Macy,” I said. “Is there a problem?” I directed the question to the guard.
“Michael! Oh, thank goodness you’re here. Would you kindly inform this…this man,” she said in righteous tones, “that I am
not
a street person trying to crash this dinner and that I’m your invited guest?”
The man employed by the hotel regarded me skeptically. “Is she with you?”
“She is.” I placed my arm protectively around Macy’s shoulders. “Do you have your dinner ticket?”
“I…I couldn’t find it.” She draped the oversize purse over her arm and let it dangle.
“Not to worry,” I said, frowning at the security guard. “If need be, I’ll purchase another.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said and walked off.
Seeing how upset Macy was and because the two of us had become the focus of attention—I gently eased her into the lobby and away from the ballroom.
“Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry.”
“What happened?” I asked as I hugged her close.
She trembled in my arms. “The taping went much later than I expected,” she whispered.
That much I’d figured out.
“I guess you didn’t have time to change clothes.” She must’ve been wearing what she’d had on for the commercial shoot.
Macy nodded, her face against my shoulder. “I didn’t know I was doing
two
scenes. The first was the modern-day grocery store and the second was from the 1960s. If I’d gone home and changed, I would’ve missed the dinner entirely.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t,” she said, sounding close to tears. “All I’ve done is embarrass you. I can’t stay.”
“Of course you can. I want you to meet my friends. I’m not embarrassed—I’m proud of you.”
She shook her head. “I can’t…I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything.”
Clasping her shoulders, I held her back from me and
looked down into her face. “Don’t be silly,” I said, reaching for her hands. “Come inside with me and have some dinner. You’ll feel better once you do.”
“I can’t.…I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t let you down…I just couldn’t.” She buried her face in her hands, and, seeing how distraught she was, I realized it would be even more upsetting for her to walk through the ballroom in full view of everyone.
“Do you want to go home?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said in a high-pitched squeak.
Reluctantly, I nodded. I put my arms around her again, hoping to comfort and reassure her.
We stood entwined that way for perhaps a minute—until we were interrupted by Ritchie, rushing out of the ballroom. “Michael! They’re getting ready to announce the awards.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
Macy broke the embrace and smiled up at me. “I’m fine. Go back inside.”
Ritchie looked at Macy and then at me, then back at Macy. He pulled me aside. “
This
is Macy?” he asked as though he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“She came directly from the commercial shoot,” I told him.
“Oh.” He regarded me thoughtfully. Then in a lower voice, he asked, “Hannah’s Macy?”
“No,” I said, “my Macy.”
“Oh.”
I’d rarely seen my brother-in-law at a loss for words, but
Ritchie clearly wasn’t sure what to say. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then turned away, disappearing inside the ballroom.
“That was my brother-in-law,” I said. “I didn’t think you wanted me to introduce you just yet.”
She nodded mutely.
“I’ll stop by the house when I’m finished here,” I promised her. My proposal could wait for another time.
Macy stared up at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears, then flung her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. The tears were flowing in earnest when she released me. Before I could say anything she fled down the hallway.
Her tears, and the desperate way she’d kissed me, alerted me to the fact that something was wrong. I would have followed her if I hadn’t heard my name over the speakers. When I stepped back into the ballroom, I saw people glancing in my direction and discovered I’d won the award.
The rest of the evening was like a bad dream. I kept looking for an excuse to leave, but I was thwarted at every turn. Because I was the winner, I had to remain after the banquet for a short interview with the
Seattle Times
. Then the photographer showed up. When I left the hotel, it was almost eleven.
But I didn’t care how late it was. I was going to Macy’s house.
Despite the positive events of the evening, I had an anxious feeling about Macy. As soon as I pulled up in front of her fairy-tale house, I noticed that all the lights were off. Only the porch was illuminated.
Undaunted, I climbed out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk. As I neared the front door, I saw an envelope taped to the screen door, addressed to me.
I couldn’t forget that my relationship with Macy had begun with another letter. The one from Hannah.
Standing directly under the porch light, I ripped open the envelope and withdrew the single sheet of paper.
July 2
Michael
,I can’t do it. I’m so sorry.
Can’t do what? I wondered.
Hannah made a mistake. I’m not the right kind of woman for you. I’ll embarrass and humiliate you the way I did tonight.
She hadn’t embarrassed me. When I discovered I’d fallen in love with Macy, I’d accepted that she was herself, her quirky, madcap, independent self. Those were the very qualities I now found so attractive, so appealing. So different from me.
I don’t want to see you again. I know you probably think I’m being emotional and that this is an impulsive decision on my part. It isn’t. I’m taking the cats and leaving for a while. This is for the best.
Best for whom? Not me. My initial reaction was to argue, except that I didn’t have anyone to argue with.
I don’t know when I’ll be back but I can assure you it won’t be soon. Put me out of your mind and look for a woman more suited to your world. And thank you, oh, thank you for loving me. I just wish I could be different.
Macy
P.S. Sammy’s with Harvey. I hope you’ll keep an eye on them both.
I read the letter a second time, crumpled it and dropped it on the porch before I turned and walked away.
Macy wanted to get out of my life. It was what I suspected she’d do after disappearing from my office that day—was it only two weeks ago? This was a pattern of hers. Uncompleted paintings and unfinished relationships.
Hannah had gotten it all wrong.