Authors: Pamela Browning
"All those years of listening to people like Susannah talking about love," she said, nestling her head contentedly in the special place on his shoulder, "and I never knew it could be like this."
"I suspect that people like Susannah don't know what love really is," Drew said, turning his head to kiss her right temple. She snuggled closer, smiling into the darkness.
"Thanks for helping me with the closet, Cathryn. I know it wasn't easy, but it closed a door in my life so that I can open new ones. I'm leaving the past behind. I'm looking forward to a future with you. And with my daughter, if I can arrange it."
"What have you heard lately about Selby's visiting?" She asked reluctantly, but she had to know.
"My lawyer talked with Talma's lawyer last week, and they're making progress about Selby's visit. Talma wants to take a trip to Italy with her actor friend, and it would be difficult to take Selby along, so things look brighter."
For Drew's sake, she said, "I hope it works out." Yet if she couldn't share him with Judy and Amanda, she wondered unhappily how she would share him with his daughter.
Drew stroked her hair, and his voice was low, melodious. "Selby's school will be out the first week in June, so I could fly to New York and pick her up that weekend. I might stay in New York for a week or so, take Selby to the zoo, buy her some new clothes, get reacquainted."
She thought, then, that he would return his attention to her, because usually in the aftermath of their lovemaking, he was all hers with his sweet murmurings, gentle laughter, and total peace. But instead, he went on talking about Selby, about how much fun it was to be with her and how much Cathryn would like her.
"Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll plan a brief holiday just for Selby and me." Drew's eagerness was growing, she could tell from the sound of his voice. "And then when we come back, you'll have a chance to meet her. You'll love her, I know you will."
"I'm sure I will," said Cathryn, but she felt a twinge of apprehension.
She shifted her weight so that her head rested on the pillow, not on his shoulder. She forced herself to listen to Drew's voice with complete detachment while she pondered with uneasiness the addition of Drew's seven-year-old daughter into their lives.
If
it happened, that is.
Listening to Drew, only half hearing him now, she consulted her mental calendar. The first week in June—the week Selby got out of school—was only fourteen days away.
Chapter 9
"You packed Raggedy Ann, didn't you?" Cathryn asked anxiously as her car negotiated the curving road leading to Palm Beach International Airport. She was driving Drew to catch his flight to New York for his reunion with his daughter. The visit and all that it entailed had come to pass suddenly, within the past week, when Talma had finally acquiesced to Drew's request for visitation. Cathryn wasn't sure that she herself was ready for it.
"Yes, of course," Drew replied. His own nervous energy was contained, but Cathryn knew that anticipation and excitement simmered just beneath Drew's calm exterior. He couldn't help the excitement. For the first time in sixteen months, he'd see his daughter.
Heat rose from the black asphalt road, and a stiff breeze whirled dust at the side of the pavement into miniature tornadoes. Ahead, the airport buildings gleamed white in the sun. Cathryn drove distractedly with an occasional glance at Drew out of the side of her oversized sunglasses. She hoped Drew was not aware of their secondary purpose, which was to hide her eyes in case she started to cry when they parted.
He was only going to be gone for a week, but his departure had taken on more significance than any ordinary leavetaking. Even though she kept telling herself that Selby's presence would not detract from their relationship, deep down inside Cathryn still didn't believe it.
She'd managed to keep up a brave front with Drew, and she had tried to be encouraging about Selby's visit. She'd convinced him that she was looking forward to it almost as much as he was. But she hadn't convinced herself.
"I hope your first meeting with Selby goes well," she said.
Drew reached over and massaged her shoulder for a brief moment. He'd told her that the instant when he and Selby first were to see each other was one of his biggest worries. What if Selby barely knew him after all this time? What if she refused to go with him?
He removed his hand from her shoulder. Cathryn immediately wished he'd put it back.
"I'll use this week in New York to rebuild," Drew said. "I'll remind Selby of all the things we used to do together, like swimming and canoeing. I'll see how much she remembers of our lives together. Then I'll tell her how much fun it will be to do all those things again."
Drew spoke with confidence, but Cathryn knew him well enough to know that he was secretly anxious. She was glad he had remembered to pack Raggedy Ann. The doll would perhaps help to break the ice between father and daughter in those important first few moments.
"Do you think you'll have time to check in with Susannah while you're in New York?" Cathryn asked. Cathryn was concerned because although she had called Susannah on her cell phone several times, her friend hadn't answered. Since Susannah was forever losing her cell, this wasn't concerning, but she wasn't answering her New York City landline. Nor was she picking up email. Usually, if Susannah planned to be out of touch for any length of time, she'd let Cathryn or Judy know.
"I'll track her down," Drew promised. "Anyway, I'll enjoy hearing what our favorite scatterbrain has been up to lately. Do you think she'd like to go out to dinner with Selby and me?"
Cathryn shook her head. "She's not terribly fond of children," she told him. It was an understatement.
"When I find Susannah, I'll make her promise to get in touch with you or Judy. Okay?" He grinned at her.
"Okay," Cathryn replied.
She parked the car in short-term parking and accompanied Drew inside the terminal. She wanted to be with him every last minute until he went through security. At the check-in counter, she stood to the side, feeling awkward, while he checked his suitcase. She hated airports and had always found them cold and impersonal. Airports were designed for people who were going somewhere, and for people like her, who weren't, there wasn't anything to do but stand around wishing that she, too, had a destination.
Of course, the possibility of her going had never been mentioned. Not that she would have, even if Drew had invited her. She was planning to use this week as a chance to catch up on neglected details. She was smack in the middle of rearranging the architect's office, and he was impatient to get it over with. During the past week, though, Cathryn had been so preoccupied with Drew that the architect's problems had taken a backseat to her own. But Cathryn did have a contract to fulfill and was becoming more and more worried that the architect was going to end up dissatisfied with the job she was doing. And he could, if he saw fit, do irreparable damage to her career.
"Hold this, sweetheart, won't you?" Drew thrust his jacket at her; the weather had been so hot that he hadn't worn it on the ride to the airport. She folded it carefully over one arm, looking him over one last time to capture him in a mental snapshot.
They'd spent last night together, curved and enfolded in each other's arms. As Cathryn watched him going through the baggage check procedure, she felt a familiar yearning and then despair that he would be gone for seven days. The week yawned before her like an empty chasm, and she knew that no amount of work would fill it.
Drew hoisted his briefcase and turned to her with a smile. She held his jacket while he shrugged into it.
"I guess it's about time to board the plane," he said.
"I guess so," she replied, thinking that their words sounded so vacant and unfeeling. She wondered if Drew realized that when he returned with Selby, things would be different between them.
"Take those sunglasses off or I'll do it for you," he said, the catch in his voice belying his tension. "I want to see your eyes."
"You take them off," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.
Slowly he reached up and lifted the sunglasses from her face. He did it solemnly, seductively, his eyes delving into hers. The earpiece tangled in a strand of her hair, and he twisted the frames to free them. She was spellbound by the pent-up passion in his eyes.
He couldn't imagine a whole week without her, and suddenly and irrationally he wished she were going with him. "I love you, Cathryn," he said hoarsely, and at that moment she knew that no matter how he longed to be with Selby, he hated being separated from her as much as she hated being apart from him.
"And I love you." The words seemed so inadequate for the deep emotion she felt.
"I'd better go. We're a little late. If it hadn't been for your wanting one more time..." A brief flash of humor found its way to his eyes.
"You were the one," she said, pretending an attitude she certainly didn't feel. "Not even allowing me to take a shower in peace and privacy."
They were being overly polite with each other, reminding her that she hated public goodbyes. "Okay. See you next week." She tried desperately to remain casual, even though her pulse pounded in her temples.
Suddenly he caught her against him with his free hand, smothering her face against the crisp gray fabric of his suit.
"I'll miss you, Cathryn. Take care."
The people bustling through the airport, the rattle of the voice on the PA system, the opening and closing of the doors as people came and went—all of it stopped. She clutched him to her, cursing the tears that rushed to her eyes and threatened to spill over. She pulled away, not wanting to spot Drew's coat.
Drew saw the tears. He put a finger gently beneath her chin. "It's only a week," he said comfortingly.
"Have a good time," she whispered. A tear formed slowly and trickled forlornly down her cheek. Others threatened to follow.
Drew nodded and tenderly kissed away the tear. "I'll call you when I get there. I'll text you. I'll be thinking of you all the time."
He broke away from her, wishing she didn't look so sad. Suddenly it struck him, what she was going through. When he reached New York, he would have his daughter. Cathryn, left behind in Palm Beach, would have no one to fill the empty hours of his absence.
Cathryn raised her hand and waved. A group of tourists chattering in French wedged themselves into the space between them. Cathryn ventured a half-step forward, then realized the futility of it. Drew was far away from her now, striding in long steps through the terminal.
A tremendous sense of sorrow washed over her, leaving her feeling weak and lost. She turned and walked slowly toward the outside doors. When she stepped out of the air-conditioned building into the humidity of a South Florida summer morning, it was as though she were being smothered by a warm, wet quilt. She felt stifled by the soggy heat, and she dispiritedly slid into her car, turned the key in the ignition, and eased out of the parking space.
She adjusted the vent so that the car's air conditioner wafted cool air across her face. As she watched, a bright silver bird winged slowly up and away over the terminal building, sunlight glinting on its swept-backed wings. Drew would soon leave on a plane like that one. She missed him already.
Her cell phone beeped to indicate that she'd received a text message. It was from Drew.
"Boarding now," it said. "Love u love u love u."
She couldn't help the sudden tears that rushed to her eyes as she pulled out of the airport road onto the highway. Thinking about it later, she wasn't sure if it was the tears or the bulky sunglass frames that blocked her vision. In any case, there was no way to avoid the blue pickup truck careening through the intersection past the yellow light as it tried to beat the red.
Cathryn was never to remember the truck or the driver, just wildly squealing brakes, a harsh rending of metal and her own shock that this was actually happening to her.
* * *
"Cathryn? Cathryn! Wake up, dear. Open your eyes."
The command issued from an unfamiliar voice and was remarkably clear, considering that everything else swam through her vision in a blur. The pungent odor of antiseptic stung her nostrils. She blinked and tried to focus, wondering where she was and what she was doing. Nothing felt right; her arms and legs were cold and her head hurt.