Loving Laura (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy) (18 page)

“Neil, just tell me one thing...”

He tensed.

“Do you love me?”

Closing his eyes, he drew on all his strength. Then he took a deep breath. “I can’t answer that, Laura.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Her voice was thick with tears.

Knowing how she’d interpret his answer, he braced himself and said, “Won’t.” He waited one heartbeat. “Because I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to lie to you.”

On the drive back to Patinville, Neil was very quiet. Earlier, after the electricity came back on, and the elevator jolted to life, he had seemed to take it for granted that they would skip the visit to Norman and just go home. Emotions in turmoil, Laura gave him no argument. Neither could have carried on a normal conversation with Norman—not tonight. Not after what had happened between them. Norman wasn’t stupid; he would have sensed something was wrong.

When Neil insisted that she ride back with him in the company truck and leave her car at the hospital, she agreed to that, too. She was in no shape to drive herself home.

So she climbed into the cab of the truck, mind and heart numbed by Neil’s silence, by the almost impersonal way he helped her into the truck, by the set lines of his jaw and the distant expression in his eyes. A great tiredness seeped through her, the trauma of the night’s events finally catching up with her. As they headed west toward Patinville, she stared out the window. It was still raining, but the wind had died down, and there were only occasional flashes of light-ning streaking across the sky. Laura pressed her forehead against the window glass and closed her eyes. She shivered, pulling her coat closer around her. She was so cold.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s cold in here. It’ll just take a few minutes for the heater to warm up,” Neil said.

But will it warm up my heart?
If only he would tell her he loved her. She knew there would be problems. She knew it would be hard to face Norman. But together, if they loved each other, they could overcome anything.

Only, Neil hadn’t said he loved her.

He’d said he was sorry. He’d said he didn’t want to hurt her. And he’d said he didn’t want to lie to her.
Lie to her.
Every time she thought about those three words, she felt sick. What had he meant? She shivered again. What else could he mean except that he couldn’t say he loved her because it would be a lie?

She sat in the dark cab watching the rivulets of rain snake across her window, the darkness outside relieved only by an occasional watery light in the distance, and she couldn’t evade the harsh reality any longer.

Neil didn’t love her.

He just felt sorry for her. What they’d shared hadn’t meant the same things to him as they had to her. And he was a caring person, so he hadn’t wanted to hurt her by telling her.

An icy coldness wrapped around her heart and an emptiness settled into her stomach like a dull ache.

She was suddenly afraid. So terribly, terribly afraid.

* * *

On the long drive home, Neil was all too aware of Laura sitting huddled against her door, face turned toward the window. The knowledge of what he’d done hammered at him.

Her misery was all his fault. Tonight was all his fault. He couldn’t place any of the blame for tonight on Laura. Jesus, he’d made such a mess of things. From their first meeting he’d sensed her vulnerability. Even Denise had told him Laura needed kindness and friendship. And instead of being her friend, he’d taken advantage of her and then hurt her even more by turning her away.

He slanted a look at her. His heart squeezed painfully as he saw the dejected slump to her shoulders. She looked so unhappy and so alone. Only inches separated them but it might have been thousands of miles. He ached to hold her and make everything right.

It had almost killed him to imply that she meant nothing to him. But what else could he do? What purpose would be served by telling her he loved her? They couldn’t be together, so in the end Laura would be hurt even more. She was much better off without him. He couldn’t even be sure his motives for making love to her were as pure as he’d like to think they were. Hell, he could tell himself thousands of times that he had only reacted to her anguish and fear, but the truth was that he had wanted her ever since he’d met her. She’d been on his mind more and more; each time he saw her his feelings had gotten stronger.

If he’d really loved her, he would have stayed away from her knowing all he could ever give her was heartache. If he’d been strong, he would have done the right thing. Instead, he’d been weak, and he’d hurt Laura, betrayed his brother, and dishonored himself.

The best thing he could do for Laura right now was make her hate him so she’d get over him quickly. But how he was going to accomplish that without making her hate herself, too, he didn’t know.

* * *

The cats were both sleeping on the couch in the living room, and they slowly stretched and yawned as Laura entered her apartment, Neil following behind her.

He walked toward her fireplace, leaned his hands against the mantel, and looked down at the floor. His stance reminded her of the way cops in the movies made people stand when they wanted to frisk them. He didn’t speak.

Laura hugged herself. They were together, in the same room, but she felt as if there were a Plexiglas barrier between them. She could see him and hear him but she couldn’t reach him.

Finally he turned around. His voice was strained as he spoke. “Laura, I can’t ever tell you how sorry I am about tonight. Someday I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said. She felt numb.

“But now we’ve got to try to forget about it.”

Forget about it.
Laura rarely lied to herself, but obviously Neil did. There was no way she could pretend nothing had happened tonight, and she wasn’t sure he could, either, despite what he said.

“If anyone guessed about tonight, it would rip the family apart,” he continued. “I can’t allow that to happen.”

“I see.”

“We both know that under normal circumstances it would never have happened.”

How could eyes that had looked at her with a rich, warm softness suddenly look so cold and hard? She stared at him. The room was very quiet. Even the cats were still, and Laura could feel the heavy beat of her heart. “So you think what happened was just a natural reaction to the emotion of the moment? That it wasn’t very important, and we can easily forget it? Is that what you’re saying?”

He met her gaze squarely. “I never meant to hurt you, but you have to understand the way things are.”

A good healthy jolt of anger replaced the numbness that had kept her almost paralyzed with fear for the past hour. “The way things are? Oh, I think I understand the way things are!” She hated herself for the betraying quiver she heard in her voice.

His face softened. “Laura, please. You’re just making this harder for both of us. You know the situation. We
have
to put this behind us. We can’t do anything to jeopardize Norman’s health. If he knew about this...” He ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of defeat. “Jesus, if anybody knew about this . . .”

“So you’re ashamed, right?”

He flushed. “I’m . . . I’m not ashamed. And I’m sorry if that’s the way it sounded. I just meant—“

“I know perfectly well what you meant. Oh, I’m a little slow sometimes, but I’ve finally got it.” Laura stoked her anger, knowing if she didn’t, she might fall apart from the searing pain. “You just took advantage of the moment, right?”

His throat worked, and for a moment, she thought he was going to say something. But then he zipped up his jacket, his actions stiff. He didn’t meet her eyes.

He was going to leave. He was going to walk away from her. Suddenly she wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt her. In her coldest voice, she said, “That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Run away from your problems?”

He flinched, and she knew her arrow had found its mark.

“Laura, nothing you can say about me will be worse than what I’ve been thinking about myself. I don’t blame you for hating me. You have every right to.”

Then he opened the door and disappeared into the night. Too miserable to move, Laura stared after him. She heard the slam of the truck door, the rasp of the ignition as Neil started the truck, then the crunch of gravel as he backed out of the driveway.

It wasn’t until Phoebe hopped down from the back of the couch and began rubbing against her legs and meowing that Laura moved, like a sleepwalker, toward the kitchen. And as she did, tears streamed down her face, and she collapsed onto one of her kitchen chairs, laid her face against her arms, and wept as if her heart would break.

* * *

Laura finally called Celeste. She didn’t know what else to do. For two weeks she suffered, reliving that night over and over again. When she could stand it no longer, she placed the call. She was in luck; Celeste wasn’t working the evening shift at the hospital. And Laura found her at the home she shared with three other nuns.

“Laura, why didn’t you call me before this?” Celeste said after Laura haltingly told her the entire story.

“I don’t know. I guess I was afraid of what you’d think.”

“Think? You mean about you?”

“Yes.”

“You know me better than that.”

Some of the tension left Laura’s body at the lack of censure in Celeste’s voice. “Do you think what we did was wrong?”

There was no hesitation on the other end of the long distance line. “Not in the sense Neil thinks it was wrong. I don’t think what happened is a betrayal of his brother. His brother has no real claim on you.”

Laura hadn’t even been aware she was holding her breath, but now she let it out in one great gust. She felt grateful Celeste didn’t lecture her about sin or morals or sex without marriage. Laura’s own Catholic upbringing − as sketchy as it had been with a mother who didn’t much care whether her daughter had any religious training or not, had enough guilt built into its foundation to have given her some bad nights since she and Neil had made love. On one level she could tell herself this was the 90s, not the 50s, but on another level, a deeper level, Laura was still striving to be a good girl in everyone’s eyes.

“But Laura,” Celeste said softly, “I understand how Neil feels. From what you’ve told me about him, I don’t think he has any choice. He’s doing what he has to do, regardless of what he feels for you.”

Laura seized at Celeste’s words. “You think he loves me?”

“Yes, I do. I think he feels exactly the same way you feel. And I think he’s hurting as much as you are now.”

“Oh, Celeste, I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s really nothing you can do. Unless, of course, you want to tell Norman yourself.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that. Neil would hate me. I...I can’t hurt Norman that way.” Now that she’d said it, she knew it was true. A great tide of weariness spread over her.

“Well, it doesn’t sound to me as if this is going to result in a happy ending for you. You’ve got to face that.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course, you can. You’re a lot tougher than you think.”

“I love him, Celeste. I can’t stand the thought of a future without him.” She could hear her voice tremble. “Oh, God, I sound like such a weak, stupid fool, don’t I?”

“I’m not going to waste my breath answering,” Celeste said. “If it makes you feel better to call yourself names, go right ahead.”

Laura sighed.

“What I can’t understand,” Celeste said in a thoughtful voice, “is why these interesting things always seen to happen to you. Why is it that no good-looking man ever makes a pass at me? Do you think it’s the habit that puts them off?”

Laura, taken off guard, didn’t respond for a minute. Then she burst out laughing. Trust Celeste to steer her back when she started toward the deep end.

“Come on, Laura,” Celeste said when their laughter faded. “This really isn’t the end of the world, you know. You’re a strong woman. You’ll survive.” Then very softly she said, “I’ll pray for you.”

But the next morning after another restless night where she’d once more dreamed of Neil, Laura wondered if she was going to need more help dealing with her problems than an occasional phone call to a friend. Maybe it was time for her to get some outside help, something she’d been considering lately anyway.

Still thinking about her problems, she began to get ready for work. At seven-forty-five, she walked outside and scraped the ice off the windshield of her car. It had turned cold during the night.

Her car wouldn’t start. At first she thought she just needed a jump, and she went next door to ask Jett if he’d help her.

“He’s got the flu. He’s in bed,” Denise said, as she poked her head out, “but I’ll do it. Wait’ll I throw some clothes on.”

A few minutes later, Denise came outside, shivering in the frosty morning air. They hooked up the jumper cables, and Laura tried once more, but the car still wouldn’t start. Sighing with frustration, she went inside and called the local mechanic, who promised to send a tow truck to pick up the car sometime that morning.

“Wonderful,” Laura said, looking at her watch. “I’m going to be late.”

“Well, you couldn’t help it. Let me just go tell Jett, then I’ll run you down to the office,” Denise said.

When Laura finally got to work, she decided she would give the office a good cleaning. She’d been so down in the dumps the past two weeks, she hadn’t felt like doing anything. She began her cleanup efforts by first tackling Norman’s desk—she always kept her own desk in meticulous order—then, after lunch, she opened the supply cabinet with the intention of straightening it out. She’d only been working on the cabinet about five minutes when the phone rang.

Denise’s harried voice greeted her. “Laura, something must be in the air because you’re not the only one having car problems today.”

“Why? What happened? Something wrong with yours?”

Denise sighed tiredly. “No, but Mama just called and said that the truck Neil’s driving broke an axle out near Bayou Sorrel, and he wanted Papa to drive over there and bring the other truck, but Papa went to Lafayette. With Jett home sick I can’t leave here. Can you close up the office and go?” Sounds of dishes rattling drifted through the wire as Denise stopped talking.