Marking Time (3 page)

“I’ve wanted to come by to see you, but Jack said you weren’t taking visitors at the hospital.”

“Yes, well, I kind of wanted to get back to my old self before I greeted the world. Why don’t you come by the house when I get home? I’d love to see you.”

“I’d like that. Coop told me what happened, that you were—”

“I was raped, and he threatened to kill one of my kids if I told anyone.” Clare saved her friend from having to say the words. “I didn’t tell anyone, and the stress was horrible.” She paused before she continued, knowing she might as well tell her friend the rest. “That day, in the parking lot, when the car was coming at me… I’m ashamed to say I saw it as a way out. I let that car hit me, Janice.” Clare had only recently been able to speak of it after months of intense therapy. “I did a terrible thing to my girls by letting that happen right in front of them.”

“I’m so sorry, Clare,” Janice said in a whisper, and Clare could tell she was crying. “The man who hurt you—”

“He’s doing a life sentence in California. Apparently, he was a career felon.”

“Thank God they got him. I saw the piece in the paper about Jack getting married. I just can’t imagine how you must be feeling. You two were always so in love. We envied you.”

“Yes,” Clare said with a sigh. “On top of everything else, while I was in a coma, my husband fell in love with someone else and was expecting twins with her by the time I recovered. Needless to say, it was quite a shock.”

“I’m sure it was terrible for you. Are you all right?”

“I’m doing better. It worked out the way it was meant to.”

“What you’ve been through, all of you… If there’s anything I can do for you, I hope you won’t hesitate to call.”

“I’ll need all the friends I can muster over the next few months. I do hope you’ll come by.”

“I will. I promise.”

They ended the call, and Clare set the phone down on the table next to her bed.
I guess that’s the first of many times I’ll have that conversation.

She went home on a Saturday so the girls could be with her when she left the hospital. Jill came from college in Providence, and Clare’s mother, Anna, was there from Hartford for the big day.

The halls of the rehabilitation center were lined with staffers applauding their star patient as she was taken on one last wheelchair ride to the front door. Embarrassed by the attention, Clare emerged into the late summer humidity, handed her crutches to Kate, and eased herself into the passenger seat of her own beloved burgundy Volvo. She had paid cash for it with the proceeds of the first house she ever sold and had hung on to it despite Jack’s many attempts to get her to upgrade. When she closed her door and looked over, she was startled to see Jill behind the wheel.

Jill laughed. “Yes, Mother, I drive now.”

“I do, too,” Kate said from the backseat where she sat with Maggie and their grandmother.

“Me, too,” Maggie said, and everyone laughed.

“Of course, I knew you guys were driving, but having you drive me is another story,” Clare said. “This’ll take some getting used to, ladies.”

“That’s okay,” Jill said.

“Go slow, Jill, you don’t want me to have a heart attack on my first day out of the hospital.”

Anna reached out to pat her daughter’s shoulder. “Relax, honey, they’re both excellent drivers.”

“Thanks, Gram, I think she needed to hear that,” Jill said with amusement as she pulled away from the hospital. “What do you think, Mom? Shall we take the scenic route?”

“Absolutely.” Clare rolled down the window to let in the breeze. She’d been out of the hospital only once since her recovery in April, to attend Kate’s high school graduation in June.

Jill drove through downtown, along Newport Harbor. Clare was quiet during the ride as she drank in the familiar and noticed all the changes wrought by the passage of time—a new lane added to a roadway, the landscaping in front of a favorite restaurant, once-loved shops long gone and replaced by new ones.

“Can we take a ride?” Clare asked as Jill approached the traffic light at the end of America’s Cup Avenue, where they would have gone up the hill at Memorial Boulevard to go home.

“Sure, where do you want to go?” Jill asked.

“I’d like to see the hotel.” Jack had met Andi while building the hotel, and Clare had been curious about it for months.

“No problem,” Jill said, taking a right onto Lower Thames, which would lead them to Ocean Drive.

“Look at all the people.” Anna marveled at the tourists crowding the quaint city’s sidewalks and cobblestone streets.

“Newport is as popular as ever,” Clare said.

They navigated Ocean Drive’s winding curves in silence until an elaborate gold-leaf sign announcing “Infinity Newport” appeared in front of them. Sitting at the end of a quarter-mile driveway, the hotel kissed the shore of Rhode Island’s Narragansett Bay.

“Oh my.” Clare took in the sprawling two-story shingled building with dark green shutters and trim. “Why, it already looks like it’s been there for years!”

“I know,” Kate said. “I’ve thought that, too.”

“It’s magnificent,” Clare said.

“Wait ’til you see the inside,” Maggie said. “It’s awesome.”

“We’ll save that for another time,” Clare said as Jill drove slowly past the hotel. “Dad and Uncle Jamie did a wonderful job. Thanks for showing me.”

They fell quiet again as they wound along the ten-mile Ocean Drive on Newport’s southern coast.

“Oh, look, that’s the house Dad and Andi are buying.” Maggie pointed to an ornate wrought-iron gate in front of a two-story gray colonial.

“Is that it? I haven’t seen it yet.” Jill slowed the car to get a better look. “Wow, it’s huge.”

“It is,” Kate agreed. “There’s a little beach out in front, too.”

“Very nice.” Clare felt suddenly disconnected as her daughters checked out their father’s new house. “I think I’m ready to get home, guys.”

“Sure, Mom,” Jill said, taking the curve to Bellevue Avenue where they passed the city’s famous mansions. They drove by the merry-go-round at First Beach, and a few turns later, Jill pulled into the gravel driveway at home.

Kate retrieved Clare’s crutches and helped her mother from the car.

Clare took a long look at the house she hadn’t seen in more than three years. The only noticeable difference was the landscaping, which had grown and matured in her absence—just like her daughters. She shook off their offers of help and navigated the three small stairs to the front porch. When a flood of memories assailed her, she gestured for the others to go on in.

“I’ll be right there.” She rested against the porch railing. “Go ahead, honey,” she said when Jill hesitated.

Jill went in, and Clare stood riveted, staring at the bright red front door, remembering.

“Three small steps,” he had said, taking both her hands to lead her. “One, two, okay, stand there a minute.”

Listening to a door opening, she’d been tempted to nudge aside the blindfold he insisted she wear. “Jack, where are we? What’s going on?” She felt him come back to her, and before she knew it, he swept her up into his arms. “Jack! What are you doing?”

“Carrying my bride over the threshold.”

“Bride? Have you lost your mind?” she asked as he set her down and untied the blindfold. When her eyes had adjusted to the light, she saw high ceilings, shining wood floors, and glass—lots and lots of glass through which there was a dazzling view of the ocean. “What is this place? Where are we?”

He put his arms around her and kissed her. “We’re home. Merry Christmas.”

“Home?” She looked around again. “I don’t understand…”

He took her hand to lead her into the kitchen.

Through French doors, she saw a stone patio around an elaborately tiled in-ground pool. “Did you buy this house, Jack?”

“Not exactly. I built this house.”

She whirled around to look again, realizing parts of what she saw were familiar. “Oh, God, you built it. You built my house, didn’t you?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes flooding with tears. “The house you drew for me after our wedding?”

He nodded.

She wiped tears from her face. “But how? When? When did you do this?”

“Many late nights with ‘clients,’ and many, many lies,” he said with the devilish grin that still melted her bones after thirteen and a half years together.

“The top, with the circle and the glass, did you do that, too?” she asked, filled with excitement as the details of the plans he’d drawn for “someday” came rushing back to her.

“Of course I did. Want to see?”

She nodded and put her arms around him. Whatever had she done to deserve this man—this amazing, thoughtful, generous man? “I want to see, but first I just want you.” She hugged him close to her. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He pulled back to look down at her. “Did you think I’d forgotten?”

“You’ve been so busy with the firm. I haven’t thought about this in years.”

“I’ve never stopped thinking about it, and when this property came on the market, I snapped it up.”

“It’s so beautiful, but it must’ve cost a fortune. Can we afford this?” She tipped her eyes up to his. The firm he and Jamie had founded almost six years ago had been wildly successful, but she didn’t think they had this kind of money.

“We can afford it. I did a lot of it myself to keep the cost down, but I don’t want to talk about that. Can I show you the rest?”

“Yes.” She reached up to caress his face. “In case I forget to say this later, thank you, Jack. This is the best surprise I’ve ever gotten.” She drew him down and kissed him with a thoroughness that left them both breathless.

“Wow,” he said when she finally released him. “I need to build you a house more often. Come see.” He took her through the kitchen to show her the study, the dining room, and family room, which boasted a huge stone fireplace. Stairs from both the kitchen and the family room led to the second-floor wing he had built for the girls. “They’ll each have their own bathroom, which will be critical as we face the teenage years. You’ll also be glad to know I gave them each their own water heater, so there won’t be any more screaming about hot water.”

“You thought of everything.” She didn’t see one thing she would have changed. Across from the girls’ rooms were three more bedrooms.

“One is a guest room with another bathroom, and the other two rooms can be used for a home gym or anything else you want.”

“Okay, I’m trying to count bathrooms—”

“Six including ours: one downstairs, four up here, and one more upstairs. Seven bedrooms all together.”

Her hand covered her mouth as she peeked into the guest bedroom. “It’s so overwhelming.” The house had been built to keep the ocean view prominent in almost every room. He’d left all the walls white so she could choose the paint colors.

“You’ve got to see the best part.” He took her hand to guide her to a spiral staircase in the middle of the second floor. “After you.”

She walked up the winding stairs, opened the door at the top, and let out a shriek. The top floor was circular with walls made entirely of glass, offering a view of the beach and fresh-water reservoir. A fireplace in the middle divided the bedroom and sitting areas. It was the only room that was furnished with a new king-size cherry sleigh bed and rich leather furniture in the sitting room.

She turned to him with fresh tears in her eyes. “Oh, Jack, it’s exactly as you described it.”

“You remember?”

“Of course I do. We used to lie in bed in the apartment on Beacon Hill, and you’d describe this to me down to the smallest detail. It’s so much better than I ever imagined.”

He nudged her toward the spacious master bathroom where he’d put a huge Jacuzzi tub. Everything was marble and shiny new.

“There’s one more thing. Come on out here.” He opened the sliding door to a small deck that hung over the pool area and rocky shoreline below.

“Oh, look at this!” She marveled at the view. The winter ocean foamed with frigid rage as the gulls dove for lunch in the surf. Off in the distance, a stretch of sandy beach was deserted and barren except for a few hardy runners and their dogs. “It’s just so amazing. The most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m glad you like it.” The relief showed on his face. “I was kind of worried.”

“Like it? I love it! Why were you worried?”

He shrugged and grinned. “I’ve been married long enough to know how particular women are about their houses.”

“You shouldn’t have worried. I love every inch of it. I’m so lucky to have such a talented husband.” She kissed him again the way she had downstairs and threw her arms around him in sheer delight. “I love it, I love you, and I want to see it again.”

He leaned down for another of those kisses she was handing out. “All in good time,” he said, leading her back inside and closing the door against the December cold.

She put her hands on his chest to steer him backward to the new bed.

He fell on the bed, pulling her down on top of him. “You know, when they christen a new ship, they break a bottle of champagne over the bow,” he said with a glint in his eye.

She kissed him. “Yes, I’ve heard that.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Do you know how new houses are christened?”

“I think I’m about to find out.”

Kate walked out the front door. “Mom?”

Clare shook her head and snapped out of her remembrance. “I’m coming.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, honey, everything’s fine. Let’s go in, shall we?”

T
he house was more or less as she remembered it. Furniture had been moved, carpeting replaced, new photos hung, and plants had either died or grown beyond recognition. True to his word, Jack had made her a bedroom in the study, and the downstairs bathroom had been outfitted with handrails. The girls had brought her clothes down from the attic and hung them in the study closet.

Clare’s mother planned to spend a month with her, and Sally Coleman, the nurse who’d overseen her care during the coma, would be coming in every day to continue Clare’s physical therapy.