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Authors: Fern Michaels

Seasons of Her Life (55 page)

BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
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“Oh, Ruby, I'm sorry,” Calvin said, instantly contrite. “I was trying for levity. I guess this wasn't such a good idea. You have other things on your mind right now. I'm just so damn glad to see you.”
“And I spoiled it. It's me who should be sorry, and I am. We found each other again, that's what important. As my son says, we'll go with the flow. I'd love to meet you in Kansas City. No one will know either one of us, and we can do as we please. Let's write, too, okay? Do you think you could rent a post office box?”
“Hell yes, that's a great idea, Ruby. This way my aide won't be opening my mail. You can call me at the office if you want, but let's give you a name. My secretary is a bit of a busybody.” He thought for a moment. “Paul Farano. I actually know somebody by that name. When you want to call me, say you're his secretary. How does that sound?”
Ruby found herself giggling. “Devious and sneaky. Why aren't you wearing your uniform? I was looking forward to seeing you in it.”
“Next time, okay? I wear it only a couple of days a week.”
“Calvin, about your medical problem. I know it's your health, but going under the knife is serious. I read an article in a health magazine that said if you drink sauerkraut juice, it will heal bleeding ulcers. Before you make a decision to be operated on, why don't you try it? I can send you the article if you want.”
“Send it.” He grinned. “Although sauerkraut juice sounds more likely to kill you than cure you.”
Ruby propped her elbows on the table. “Who are you going to believe, Calvin, me or some doctor who went to medical school for twelve years? Have you seen a specialist outside of the military?”
“I've been thinking about it. I already have three opinions from military doctors.”
“Drink the juice for a few weeks and then go see the outside specialist,” Ruby suggested. Calvin nodded.
Calvin poked at the rice on his plate. “What will I do with my time if I have to get out? I'm not a youngster. Who's going to want to hire me at my age?” The stress and worry were back on his face.
Ruby smiled. “First, you will spend a great deal of time with me. And then you can do all kinds of things. Calvin, you have all of Washington at your disposal. You could lobby, you could do consulting work. You were a pilot. What about Lockheed or Boeing? Or how about running for political office? As a last resort, you could go to work for a fast-food joint.”
“Just like that.”
“That's pretty much the way it works. You get out and you get a job. What does your wife say?” Ruby asked curiously. She wondered what Eve looked like.
“I really haven't talked to her about it. She hates the air force just the way you hated the marines. She's not a sympathetic person unless it involves the kids, and even then she doesn't dole out a lot of caring.”
“What are we going to do tomorrow?” Ruby asked brightly to change the subject.
“Tomorrow?” Calvin asked stupidly. “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“Yes, I know. That means you have all day off, right? So, what are we going to do? I'd like to drive up to Mount Pleasant and perhaps stop and see Rena and Bruno. I lived in their house after I left Kilbourne Place. Why are you looking like that, Calvin? Don't you feel well?” she asked in a panicky voice.
“No, no, I'm fine. It's just that on Saturdays I do certain things. I've established a routine over the years, and if I break that routine or step out of character, Eve will know something is up. She has her routine on Saturday, too. Please, Ruby, try to understand.”
“Oh, I do, Calvin,” Ruby said in a dangerously cool voice. “Do you think I flew to Washington only to have lunch and dinner with you? I can't remember exactly what you said, but you implied we would spend the weekend together. Obviously, I misunderstood you.”
Calvin's lips compressed. “Let's clear this up
right now
before it blows up into something we're both going to regret. I take the blame, I thought ... and I admit it was wrong, that it was just for today ... your visit, I mean. I assumed that you would want to get back home to your business. I thought we'd talk, make plans, and go on from there. I'm sorry, Ruby.”
“For someone who says he's contemplating a divorce, you certainly appear overly concerned about what you do and when you do it. Or was that just talk, Calvin? I don't get it.”
“Eve and I maintain civility in our relationship. We go for weeks without speaking to one another, but we're always home on the weekends doing what has to be done to make the house work.”
Ruby blinked. She listened to all the words. It was another rejection. Three in one week. Not on your life. She had her coat and purse in her hand and was halfway out of the dining room before Calvin comprehended he'd done something to make her leave. He stared at the twenty-dollar bill she'd thrown on the table.
“For my dinner,” she'd said before she flounced out.
He caught up with her just as she rounded the corner to the corridor leading to her room.
“Ruby, wait.”
“Aren't you late? You did say you have a curfew. Isn't your wife going to send someone looking for you? Go away, Calvin. I made a mistake coming here. When you get your life together, call me. I assumed you led your own life and your wife led hers. I think you want your cake topped with ice cream. But I'm not your ice cream, Calvin. Good night. It was nice to see you again.”
She slammed the door in Calvin's face.
She had already kicked her shoes off and was on her way to the bathroom when she heard Calvin softly calling her name. Then he knocked quietly. She opened the door a crack. He squinted at her through the links of the chain that prevented him from entering the room.
“What is it, Calvin?” Ruby asked miserably.
“I just wanted to tell you I'll be by to pick you up for breakfast. Is nine o'clock too early? I'm going to tell Eve I'm taking an old friend out for the day. I'm going to do a lot of things, Ruby, make a lot of changes. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
Ruby bit down on her lower lip. She'd forced him into making a decision, one
she
could live with. But only if his marriage was really over and if he was prepared to act on it would she spend the day with him. She refused to be a party in the breakup of his marriage. Calvin would have to make that decision. “All right, Calvin, I'll have breakfast with you, and if we can agree on certain things, we can spend the day together.”
“I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Ruby.”
 
It was ten-thirty when Calvin entered his house through the kitchen. It took him a long time to fit his key into the lock in the dark. Eve never left a light on for him. He cursed under his breath.
He turned on the light and glanced around for the cat. Slinking about somewhere or pissing on the couch. Christ, how he hated the smell. He'd wanted to have it neutered, but Eve had refused. Dishes and crumbs covered the counter. The toaster was still out. He couldn't remember the last time Eve cooked a real meal. Usually, he cleaned up the place, but he wasn't going to do that tonight. He wasn't going to clean the cat's dish, either. He turned out the light.
Calvin walked through the living room, hating the sight of furniture clad in sheets. Cat hairs. The house revolved around Eve's cat. It was curled up on the corner of the sofa. He turned on one of the lamps. The white sheets, as usual, had been sprinkled with yellow spray. He was the one who washed them. No more. He turned off the light and headed for the family room, where Eve was staring at the television, a magazine open in her lap.
“I'm home,” he said to hear his own voice more than anything else.
“So am I,” Eve said curtly.
Calvin stared at his wife, comparing her to Ruby. It wasn't fair, but he did it anyway. Eve's hair was gray and frizzy. He told himself she'd taken a shower and that's why it was standing at attention in little spiky sections. Her face was lathered with cold cream. Ruby probably did the same thing. Eve wore white cotton gloves. Once he'd asked her why and she said her hands were rough and she was trying to get rid of the brown spots. It wasn't till later that he wondered why her hands would be rough; she didn't do dishes or scrub floors.
Ruby's hands were soft, the nails clipped short and covered with a pale pink polish. She had freckles on her hands, too. Eve popped a handful of peanuts into her mouth. Even from this distance he could see the little salt sprinkles dust the fine hairs over her lips. He thought about telling her the salt was there. She was addicted to eating peanuts and guzzling diet soda. On nights when he couldn't sleep, he could hear her tripping to the bathroom every thirty minutes. Eve didn't sleep any better than he did. Now he wondered why.
She shifted from her position in the recliner, his favorite chair, which she sat in when he wasn't home. They had an unspoken agreement concerning the chair. Whoever got to it first stayed in it for the evening. “Is something bothering you, Calvin?” She sounded as though she didn't care one way or another. She shook the peanut can. It must be empty, Calvin thought. She fished around for crumbs.
“No. I wanted to tell you that I won't be home tomorrow. I'm having breakfast with an old friend who's in town. I'll be out most of the day.” Eve shrugged as she shifted her position in the recliner. He stared down at her slipper socks. She would have on wool socks underneath. Eve's feet were always cold. She jerked at the robe she was wearing. Calvin frowned. He could have sworn the robe was pink. Ted and Steve had given it to her one year on her birthday. It wasn't pink now, and it had little balls of fuzz all over it.
Calvin was the first to admit he knew almost nothing about females, but if men could make themselves presentable, why couldn't women? True, it was time for bed, and people tended to get comfortable, but Eve ... Eve didn't seem to care. There was nothing fashionable about his wife; there never had been. He wanted to be kind. She was older than Ruby, older than himself. That had to be the answer
“Eve, I'd like to talk to you. This is the first time for a long time we're in the house at the same time. We need to talk about a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Like I'm probably going to get passed over when the selection board meets. I'll be out of a job. I could resign now and get out in June, when my thirty years are up. What's your feeling?”
Eve shrugged, her eyes still glued to the television. Just as Calvin gave up on the thought that she might express an opinion, she said, “I think you're right. You were passed over once, so there's no reason to think they'll view you any differently this time. You'll have to get a job. I'm certainly not going to work. And your retirement pay won't stretch to meet the bills.”
“We might have to move. This is an expensive place to keep up. The kids are gone; we don't need all this room.”
“I'm not moving, Calvin. I told you that when we settled here. You dragged me from one end of the country to the other, uprooting the kids every time we got settled. You'll have to find a way to keep up this house. Close off the rooms we don't use, rent out the basement. It's your problem,” she said flatly.
The program changed. Eve cranked the handle on the recliner, was out of it in the blink of an eye, changing the channel. She was back in the chair, tugging and yanking at her robe to get comfortable.
Calvin leaned forward. “Let's discuss a divorce, Eve.”
Eve turned. “Let's not.”
Calvin sighed. “You aren't happy with me; I'm not happy with you. Your parents are dead, so you can't use them as an excuse.”
“It was your idea for me to convert to Catholicism. The church forbids divorce.” She smirked to show what she thought of his idea.
“I could walk out. Then what would you do?” He had her attention now. An ugly look crossed her face.
“You've been saying that for the past fifteen years, and you haven't done it. You won't do it now, either. Your precious air force frowns on divorce.”
“Ah, but you're forgetting, I'm probably going to get out. Then it's just you and me. I don't care anymore, Eve. I'm sick and tired of this empty existence. You don't contribute, financially or emotionally, you never have. You've never tried to make things easy.”
“You're supposed to be the man in this house. It's the man's responsibility to provide for his wife and family,” Eve said flatly.
“You were never a wife to me,” Calvin snapped.
“And you were never a husband,” Eve retorted.
Calvin stood. He stared down at his wife. “Did you ever love me? Did you
ever
care, just a little?” He waited for her response, holding his breath.
“No.”
“Then why in the goddamn hell did you marry me?” Calvin roared, his voice full of pain and anguish.
Eve laughed. “Because you were the only one who ever asked me. I wanted to get away from my parents and my dizzy sister before I ended up just like her. A woman born and bred in the South is brought up to believe she isn't complete unless she has a husband, a protector. You were a means to an end. You've known this all along. I never made it a secret. Why are we going through it again? All you wanted was a body. You didn't want to be alone. You settled for me; I settled for you.”
“I told you, I want a divorce. I'll stay till June, and then I'm going to a lawyer. We'll sell the house; you'll get half and I'll get half. We'll go our separate ways. If you trench in, I'm still leaving. We'll let the lawyers handle things. You can have the cat,” Calvin said, marching stiffly from the room.
BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
6.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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