Reflections of Yesterday (12 page)

“You nearly killed yourself.”

“I didn’t know which was worse,” Simon said, chuckling, “your outrage or the headache I had the following morning.”

“As it happens, I do have an occasional drink. Mostly wine.” Her smile was involuntary.

“Good, I’ll order a bottle with our meal. Are you ready?”

She hesitated and then said, “In a minute. I’d like to freshen up.” Whole lifetimes could pass and she’d never be ready for Simon, not the way he intended.

It took far longer than a minute to repair the damage to her makeup. By the time she reappeared, Simon was standing, his drink empty.

He drove to an elegant restaurant situated on a cliff overlooking the Charleston Peninsula.
The specialty of the house was lobster, Angie’s all-time favorite food. It astonished her that he remembered these minor details about her.

“You remember how much I love lobster.”

“There isn’t a thing about you that I’ve forgotten,” he answered, as he closed the menu.

“Not everything,” she said, and lowered her gaze. He couldn’t. It was impossible.

“I remember that you wanted to name our first daughter after your mother, and we decided on Carolyn Angela Canfield. And we both liked the name Jeffrey, so if it was a boy we’d decided on Jeffrey Simon Canfield. A second boy was to be named Clay. We had it all planned, remember? Two boys and a girl.” His voice became low and thick, as if it hurt him to recall the intimate details of their early marriage.

They sat across from each other at the narrow table, lost in each other’s eyes. Angie didn’t want to be sucked into the past and gestured irritably with her hand. “What about you and Carol? Why didn’t you have children with her?”

Simon lowered his gaze. “I didn’t know if you’d found out about her. I’m glad you did; I wasn’t looking forward to explaining it. Marrying Carol was not my most shining hour. There was never any thought of children. We weren’t in love.”

“Never?” The thought of Simon making love with another woman produced a surge of jealousy that threatened to choke her.

“Never. What about you and Glenn?”

Angie knew instantly what he was asking, but decided to play dumb. “Yes, we’re planning to have children. A house full, if Glenn has his say.”

Simon blanched. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s the only question I’m answering.”

The wine steward arrived and began removing the cork from an expensive bottle of chardonnay. Simon’s attention remained riveted on Angie. He spoke at last: “Fair enough. We won’t mention Glenn again.”

The meal was the best that Angie could remember. When Simon decided to be charming no one could resist him. Least of all Angie, who had dreamed of shared moments like this.

From the restaurant they drove to a beach. Angie removed her shoes and they walked along the shore as dusk settled over the land. Fresh breezes blowing in off the peninsula cooled the evening. Simon attempted to take her hand, but she wouldn’t let him. Neither spoke. Angie
felt content and melancholy, pensive and troubled, desolate and revived, as contrasting emotions swarmed at her from all sides. She had to think, to plan. There had to be some way to sort through these emotions. But not now. Not when Simon was at her side and it seemed as if twelve years had fallen away and she was seventeen again and so much in love that all was right in the universe.

“My father has taken a turn for the worse,” Simon murmured, and looped an arm over her shoulder. She wanted to shrug it free, but discovered she enjoyed the warm, protected feeling it gave her.

Pleased that she let him, Simon paused to drink in the fresh fragrance of her hair and press his cheek to the crown of her head.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Angie whispered. Clay, for all his faults, was her only family. If anything happened to him, it would devastate her. Angie was uncertain how close Simon was to his father.

“He’s been ill for several years now. I don’t imagine he’ll live another year. I’ve got to go back, Angie.” The appeal in his voice pierced her heart.

“I know.”

“Come with me.”

“Simon, I can’t … My life is here now.”

“I love you.”

Dread weighed her heart. “I love you, too.” Her voice throbbed with the admission. “I don’t think I could ever not love you. But that doesn’t make things right.”

Turning, Simon gripped her shoulders. “Angie, of course it does.”

She was close to tears. “We can’t go back.”

“Why not?” he argued. “I love you, you love me, and baby makes three.”

“What?” she exploded.

Simon laughed and kissed her brow. “For the first time since I was eighteen, I’m aware of life. This afternoon I took a walk through the park near your shop. Children were laughing and playing and I stood watching their antics, thinking how much I want a child. Our child.”

“Simon …”

“No.” He pressed his forefinger to her lips, silencing her protests. “Hear me out. Two weeks ago if someone had suggested that I’d be talking about a family, I would have laughed in
their face. I’d given up that dream and a thousand others that we’d planned. I need you. My life is an empty shell without you there to share it with me.”

Angie’s smile was rueful. “What can I do? My home is here. Clay Pots is here.”

“Glenn is here.” Steel threads laced his words.

“Yes. You may dislike him, but it was Glenn who forced me to go back to Groves Point.”

“You were planning to come anyway, or else you wouldn’t have wanted to return the money.”

“I was going to mail it. Never, at any time, did I intend on going back.”

“You went to see my mother, didn’t you?” That was one thing that had troubled Simon. Georgia Canfield had known from the minute he’d stepped onto the garden patio the reason for his visit.

“No. She saw me.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing—she just wanted to be sure I wasn’t planning on intruding on your life.”

Resentment seared through Simon and he squared his shoulders. His jaw was set with implacable determination. “Is she the reason you—”

“No,” she assured him quickly. “It’s all of it. We accepted it twelve years ago even better than we do now. I’m from Oak Street and you live on Country Club Lane.”

“Used to.”

“It doesn’t make any difference; you understand my point.” She broke from his grip and crossed her arms, staring bleakly over the water. Her voice was flat and emotionless when she spoke. “It’s time I went home.”

Simon was silent on the drive to her apartment, and with each passing second Angie felt her confidence drain out of her. Simon was leaving, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to go. And at the same time, with the same heartbeat, with the same breath, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to stay.

Simon pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. His hands tightened on the steering wheel before he turned and draped an arm over the back of her seat. “I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t want. All I ask is for you to promise me you won’t make any decision while I’m away.”

They were saying good-bye, at least for now. She was astonished at the wave of
bittersweet nostalgia that bordered on sadness.

Simon watched her intently. His face contained an uncharacteristic appeal that relaxed his jawline and faintly curved his mouth. She released a sigh of regret. He was, she mused, all the things a man should be.

Slowly his mouth moved closer to hers. “Promise me, Angie,” he said softly. “Promise me you won’t make any decision about us when I’m not here.”

Instinctively her arms reached for him, her lips parted to receive his kiss. Simon didn’t disappoint her. His kiss sent a jarring jolt through her.

“Promise,” he whispered.

“Simon.”

His hand cupped the undersides of her breasts.

“I promise,” she whispered, and the shock waves of his touch racked her.

Angie’s dreams were filled with Simon. He satiated her senses until she woke feeling warm, secure, and loved beyond measure. It was as though twelve years had been wiped out and she lay content in her bed, knowing Simon would come to her soon and take her to the clearing in the woods. Moisture formed tiny teardrops in the corners of her eyes and slowly spilled onto the pillowcase. When Simon had made love to her, it never failed to move Angie to tears. The experience had been so beautiful that she had cried with joy. Even the first time, when they’d both been innocent, it had been the most poignant experience of her life. Man hadn’t created the words to describe the tenderness of that first time. Angie had thought it would be awkward and painful. Instead they had shared a love so ideal, so exquisite, that tears had flowed freely down her cheeks. She had gazed up at Simon in the moonlight and discovered that his face was as moist as her own. They had cried from happiness, their hearts swelling with joy, knowing the love they shared was perfect. It didn’t matter what followed in her life, Angie would always treasure that first night in the woods with Simon. The thought of sharing that kind of experience with another man seemed foreign and wrong. No man could ever reach so deep inside her that he touched her soul. No man could ever love her the way Simon had.

Wrapped in tranquillity, Angie pulled the sheet over her shoulder and snuggled into the warmth of her mattress. Simon loved her still, and together that love would overcome all the barriers that stretched between them like an impassable mountain range. Together they would forge a pass.

Drop by drop, the dream drained from her consciousness, and reality intruded. Angie rolled onto her back and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Moisture pooled in her eyes and slid haphazardly down her face. Only these tears weren’t ones of joy. They had been born of heart-wrenching sadness. A love such as theirs was doomed to face more difficulties. But Angie had learned long ago that love didn’t make everything right. She stood to lose Glenn, and only heaven knew how her father would react. They’d talk soon and she’d find out. He hated the Canfields, his judgment tainted with the bitterness of his own weakness.

The cost to Simon for loving her would be just as great. His family would never accept her.

Tossing aside the covers, Angie climbed out of bed and reached for the phone. Glenn would want to talk.

A half-hour later he was at her door with a white bag in tow. “Warm croissants,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Coffee?” She rubbed her hands together to chase off a sudden chill.

“Please.”

Glenn followed her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair. The look he gave her was long and penetrating, as if he could surmise her feelings with an exaggerated glance. Angie tried to ignore the questions in his eyes. He would wait until she volunteered the information, preferring not to pressure her. Angie didn’t know how she could ever hurt a man as good as this one. And she was about to do exactly that.

She set out two plates and delivered steaming mugs of coffee to the table, then took a seat. The white lines of strain about his eyes revealed how tense he was. Waiting for her to tell him what had happened was killing him by inches. Her heart lurched with sadness. He cared for her, and she was about to repay that devotion and patience by crushing him. With a concentrated effort, Angie carefully composed her words.

“Simon and I had a chance to talk last night,” she began haltingly.

“Good. I was hoping you would.” He blew into the mug before taking a sip.

Angie stared into the black depths of her coffee. “We didn’t settle anything. Apparently his father is ill and he couldn’t stay.”

“So he’s gone?”

Angie nodded.

“But not forgotten,” Glenn added.

“I don’t know if I’d ever be able to forget Simon.”

Glenn’s hand reached for hers and squeezed it reassuringly. “Angie, I’ve known that all along. I wouldn’t have insisted you see him otherwise.”

Angie felt as if the weight of the world had come crashing down on her. “Why are you so good to me?” she pleaded in a low voice.

Glenn chuckled and shook his head. “Do you honestly need to ask?”

Angie swallowed, profoundly touched. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His hand continued to squeeze hers. “Loving someone is a strange phenomenon. At least
the way I feel about you has taken me by surprise. Your happiness is more important than my own. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to see you and Simon together again. The thought does funny things to my heart, if you want the truth. But I’d never stand in your way if you decided that you love him and want to share his life.”

“Oh Glenn,” she murmured miserably, on the verge of tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

“But I’m yours,” he whispered, lifting her fingertips to his lips and kissing them gently. “No matter what you decide, I’ll always be here for you.”

A hundred fifty miles down the road, Simon stretched out his arms as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Within three hours he would be back in Groves Point. The six-hour drive would eat up most of the day, but he’d still have time to phone Angie once he arrived home. He felt seventeen all over again, happy and carefree. He had the world by the tail, and this time he wouldn’t let anyone destroy that happiness. Never again. Not after he’d realized just how much he loved her and always would.

The road felt good beneath him. Everything felt good. The sun was shining and the birds chirped from their lofty perches. For the first time in a lot of years, Simon thought, he was ready to look at life head-on. There was time to appreciate the beauty of the world around him. He had Angie.

When Simon pulled into the driveway, Prince was sleeping on the back steps, grateful to see him after spending the night with the housekeeper. Simon’s wheels spit up gravel, and he eased his foot onto the brake, coming to a stop. The sleek, black dog was eagerly wagging his tail in greeting. Simon paused only long enough to affectionately scratch the dog’s ears before rushing inside the house, taking the back steps two at a time.

The phone number was in his pocket, and he dug it out with anxious fingers. Humming, he hit the number with his index finger, thinking that even the rhythm of her phone number had a musical appeal. He closed his eyes and waited for the soft sound of her voice. Even after all these years it didn’t fail to affect him. Heavenly angels couldn’t sound more beautiful than Angie.