Spring Fever (34 page)

She wrinkled her forehead. “How much weight have you lost?”

He shrugged. “I don’t keep track. Maybe twenty, twenty-five.”

“You’re not dieting, right? You never used to have a weight problem.”

He shrugged. “Not dieting. Just kind of distracted with everything going on in my life.”

Annajane laughed. “I wish I had that problem. I can’t think of too many foods I don’t like.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice was sharp. “You’re fine exactly the way you are.”

The waiter brought their appetizer, a sizzling skillet full of sweet briny shrimp sautéed in garlic and olive oil, swimming alongside tiny Greek olives and feta cheese. A loaf of hot crusty bread accompanied the shrimp, and they busied themselves dividing up the shrimp, dipping the bread into the fragrant juices.

“Mmm,” Annajane said appreciatively between bites. “Heaven. I like this place so much better than Emile’s. I’ll have to come back here.”

“How was the rest of your day?” she asked, after the waiter removed the remains of the shrimp and brought their entrées.

Mason took a bite of his flounder, chewed, and considered. “Difficult. Davis is determined to battle me on every issue, large and small. Business decisions that should be routine, things like truck maintenance or contracts with vendors, all of a sudden, he’s questioning, objecting to, second-guessing.”

He shook his head. “It’s like he feels like he has to stir every pot.”

“Maybe he’s trying to prove himself.”

“To whom? He’s family. It’s not like I can fire him, as he so aptly pointed out today.”

“I don’t know,” Annajane admitted. “Being an only child, your family dynamic is kind of hard for me to read. Maybe he feels he has to prove himself to himself. Or your mom.” She took a sip of water and had another thought. “Or Celia.”

“Celia,” Mason put his fork down and frowned. “Much as it pains me, I think this is a topic we can’t keep avoiding.”

“You don’t have to talk about her,” Annajane offered.

“Yeah. I do.” He picked up his fork and took another bite of fish. And then another.

“It’s like she casts this giant shadow over us. I can’t get around it. Can’t seem to get away from her.”

Annajane giggled. “You make her sound like this huge presence, when in reality, she’s this teeny-tiny little person.”

He grimaced. “Her physical size is one of many deceptive aspects to Celia. I guess I found that out the hard way. It’s like she … wills something, and it happens. She showed up at Quixie, and she was smart and hardworking…”

“And sexy,” Annajane put in. “Glittery and fascinating and compelling.”

“On the surface, maybe,” Mason agreed. “But when you get her alone, one on one, after a while, you realize there’s just nothing much there. She doesn’t read, except business stories, doesn’t watch movies or television, except CNBC. Really, the only thing I think she’s passionate about is money. Making it, and spending it.”

Annajane took a sip of the wine he’d ordered her, gathering courage. “You two did seem like an odd match to me.”

“She was … different. I guess that’s what fascinated me about her,” Mason admitted. “And okay, I was surprised she didn’t go for Davis, the lady’s man of the family. Maybe I was flattered that she was so openly pursuing me.”

“Or your money,” Annajane said, wondering if she should share what she’d just learned about Celia’s business dealings with her ex-fiancé.

“Davis has as much money as I do,” Mason pointed out.

“But maybe not as much power over the company. Anyway,” she added, “I get what she saw in you—besides the financial aspect.”

“And what would that be?”

She gave him a gentle smile. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

“No. Seriously. Are you still attracted to me?”

Color crept into her cheeks and she looked away.

“Annajane?” His knee touched hers lightly under the table.

Another sip of wine. “I never stopped being attracted to you, but then you knew that. Even … when my world fell apart, it was so hard, being around you, seeing you, knowing what you were capable of.”

He looked stricken. “How would I know what you were thinking back then? You deliberately cut yourself off from me. You wouldn’t return my calls, or talk to me, or even listen to reason. And then Dad died…”

She sighed. “I was crushed. I couldn’t stand to see you. It was so painful, knowing…”

“Annajane,” his voice was even. He pushed his half-eaten dinner aside. “You’ve spent five years dodging me, hiding from me, even though all that time, I was right there. You told me earlier tonight that you’ve grown up. Matured. Are you finally ready to listen to me now?”

Her eyes met his. “Are you ready to tell me the truth?”

“I never lied to you about that night,” he said, returning her gaze. “I was never unfaithful to you. Never even considered it. I loved you, and you were all I wanted.”

She felt the old shame, the bitterness welling up in her throat. Unbidden, the memories of that night—the last night of their marriage—came flooding back.

“You never came home!” she said urgently. “You knew it was the company Christmas party, that I was counting on you. But you didn’t even bother to call. I was humiliated. And then I really thought you’d been in an accident or something. You have no idea how terrified I was. But when you came home and acted as if I should have known it was ‘just business’ that you were out with that woman … Eva.”

“Christ,” he muttered. He leaned over and dabbed at her eyes with his dinner napkin. “I’d completely blocked her name from my memory.”

“I’ll never forget her name,” Annajane said, her voice wobbly. “Or her handwriting. On that CD I found in your car.”

“Can I tell you something?” He took her chin and cupped it between his palms. “I couldn’t tell you this that night. I wanted to, but I was so mad at you for thinking I’d cheated, my damned pride wouldn’t let me.”

“Tell me what?”

“You found that CD, but it wasn’t mine. It was the company car, remember? I drove it to Atlanta and back, but it was the company car.”

She stared. “Then, whose?”

“Dad’s. God help me, it was Dad’s.”

She sat back, stunned. “Your father? He was the one having an affair with that Eva woman?”

Mason nodded sadly. “That’s why we were so late getting back that night. We signed the papers for the Maxi-Mart deal, and we were all supposed to meet up afterwards at the Ritz-Carlton in Buckhead for dinner. Dad offered to drive Eva back to her hotel so she could change for dinner, and he made it clear to me that he didn’t need me riding shotgun. So I stalled for a while, and finally caught a ride over to the Ritz with one of the Maxi-Mart guys. We had drinks in the bar, and waited … and waited. I kept excusing myself to go to the men’s room, so I could call Dad’s cell, but he wasn’t answering. I didn’t know what the hell to think.”

“You had no idea he was seeing her?” Annajane asked.

“None,” he said bitterly. “He knew I wouldn’t put up with that crap. I caught him, once, years ago, with another woman. At the cottage at Wrightsville Beach. Pokey was with me. I confronted him; we had a huge blow-up. That’s the summer I left town. I couldn’t stand to look him in the face for nearly a year; I was so disgusted with him for cheating on Mom. On us.”

“Pokey told me about that,” Annajane admitted.

It was his turn to get taken by surprise. “She swore she’d never say a word. We both did.”

“Relax,” Annajane chided him. “She only told me the other night, at the hospital, while we were waiting for Sophie’s surgery. She said that was how she knew you wouldn’t have cheated on me. Because you didn’t want to be like your dad.”

Mason let out a long breath and sat back in his chair. “He was a hero to me in so many ways, you know? He was a great dad. As busy as he was with Quixie, he always had time to spend with us kids. And I know he loved my mother. You saw them together. He was devoted to her! So how could he? It made me sick to think about it.”

“Your dad was a good man,” Annajane said. “He did so much for this community, in Passcoe. He could have spent his time being just another rich prick, but he wasn’t like that. He genuinely cared about people. And he did love your family. Especially Sallie. I guess maybe some men just compartmentalize things. They think sex and love are two different things, and it’s okay to sleep around, as long as their wife doesn’t find out and nobody gets hurt. I can’t explain it, but I believe it’s so.”

“I’m not like that,” Mason said evenly. “I’m not like him. Not that way.”

“Tell me about that night,” she urged. “I’m ready to listen now. I want to understand what happened.”

He took a sip of wine and closed his eyes, remembering the evening. “It was getting late, so we finally ordered dinner,” Mason said. “I was beginning to think I might have to cab back to the hotel and spend another night, because I had no idea where Dad and Eva were. Finally, at around ten o’clock, the two of them came strolling in, acting like nothing had happened. It was ten o’damned clock! We were the last party left in the dining room. The waiters were literally sweeping the floors and polishing the glasses in the bar.”

“Did they have some kind of an explanation for where they’d been?”

“Dad had some lame-ass story about how they’d stopped for a drink on the way over and just lost track of time,” Mason said, his lips curling in disgust. “It was a load of crap. He reeked of gin, and her hair looked like she’d just gotten out of bed. They were screwing their brains out in her hotel room. It didn’t take an ace detective to figure it out. We ordered coffee, and finally, at eleven, I managed to drag him out of there. And then, on top of everything, it really did start snowing. The farther north of Atlanta we got, the icier the roads were.”

“You should have called,” Annajane said. “Just to let me know.”

“I know I should have. Now,” he said. “I was a selfish, self-centered idiot. I was so furious with Dad, I couldn’t even speak. And he was half in the bag. He fell asleep as soon as he got in the passenger seat. I swear to God, more than once, as I was driving, I had the urge to reach over and throttle him. For what he’d put me through. And what he was doing to Mom. I didn’t give a thought to you.”

Annajane sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell me that night—as soon as you got home?”

“I don’t know,” Mason admitted. “I remember how tired I was, and then you were so pissed at me; I just wasn’t in the mood for a fight right then. I’d made up my mind, the next day, to have it out with Dad. I was seriously thinking, on that long drive home, maybe it was time to leave Quixie. Get out from under all the family drama, and see if I could make it on my own someplace else. I hated his guts that night.”

“I wish I’d known,” Annajane said.

“I shook him awake when we got to Cherry Hill that night,” Mason said. “I didn’t even cut the engine. I just said, ‘We’re home.’ He got out of the car. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. He could tell how angry I was. I think he said something like, ‘Talk to you tomorrow,’ and he staggered toward the front door. And I just drove off. Of course, the next time I saw him, he was barely alive. All I could think about was how I’d left it with him. ‘We’re home’—that’s the last thing I ever said to my father.”

“Oh, Mason,” Annajane began.

Just then, Mason’s cell phone began to ring. He looked annoyed but pulled it from his pocket and looked at the readout screen.

His expression softened as he saw who the caller was. “Hey, Soph,” he said. “Everything okay?”

Mason listened for a moment, then laughed. “No, afraid not, punkin. Letha is the boss, and if the boss says you have to go to bed, then you’d better skedaddle. Okay? Hmm? Yeah, actually she’s right here.”

He handed the phone to Annajane. “Sophie would like a word with you.”

“Hi, Sophie,” she said.

“Annajane, Aunt Pokey says you spent the night at her house last night.”

“That’s right,” she said cautiously.

“No fair!” the girl cried. “Petey and Denning and Clayton get all the fun. I want you to spend the night at my house.”

“Not tonight,” Annajane said. “Maybe the next time your daddy has to go out of town, I can come over and we’ll have a spend-the-night party. Girls only! How would that be?”

“Come tonight,” Sophie said.

“I can’t tonight, sweetie,” Annajane said. “It’s a school night for you, and a work night for me.”

“But Letha says I’m not going to school tomorrow, because I had an operation.”

Annajane rolled her eyes at Sophie’s logic. “I forgot about that. However, I still have to go to work. We’ll have our slumber party. Soon. Okay?”

“Oh-kay,” the child said reluctantly.

She handed the phone back to Mason, barely suppressing a yawn. “Speaking of skedaddling. Guess I better call it a night, too. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and tomorrow, I think, is gonna be another killer day.”

“We need to talk about something else,” Mason said, keeping his voice low. “It’s … about Celia.”

Annajane put her wineglass down carefully. “I’m listening.”

“First, we need to talk about us,” Mason said. “The other night, you told me—there was no us. There never could be. But then you broke your engagement to Shane. I’m kinda getting mixed signals here, Annajane.”

She gave a wry smile. “I could say the same thing about you.”

“Let me ask you something,” Mason said, leaning forward so that his knees were touching hers under the table. “In a perfect world—where we hadn’t split up, where there was no Shane and there was no Celia—do you think we’d still be together?”

“No,” Annajane said.

His face fell.

“Not the answer you wanted, I know. But I just think our lives were veering so off track, we probably wouldn’t have made it—even without the things that broke us up. Your family—mine—our jobs, our own selfishness, pride and insecurity, we had to work through all those things. I don’t know about you, but I think I’m only just now really starting to figure out how to be a grown-up. So maybe now I’m almost ready to have a mature, committed relationship.” She laughed. “Of course there’s just one thing standing in the way of that.”

“Celia.”