STARTING OVER (9 page)

Rusty didn't need to comment. The skeptical arch of his eyebrows eloquently expressed his opinion on the matter.

The explanation sounded pretty weak even to
her own ears. Looking back on it, Kate couldn't help but wonder why Doug would pay so much for a car when C-Breeze was suffering through the worst year of its professional life. Surely a less expensive model would have sufficed. For that matter, his three-year-old Thunderbird should have been adequate until they could afford something newer.

That the thought had not occurred to her earlier made Kate feel both silly and angry. However unreasonable it might be, her anger was directed toward Rusty instead of Doug. She didn't appreciate him introducing doubt to her mind. Doug was dead, and the last thing she wanted to do was cast a shadow on his memory. It wasn't fair that his motives be questioned, because he wasn't there to defend himself.

"Look, the problem isn't why he bought it but how I'm going to pay for it," she stated flatly.

"Why should you pay for it? You don't want to drive it, it represents memories that you'd rather not deal with, and it will be a constant drain on your bank account for the next few years."

She grudgingly saw his point. She preferred staying mad at him so she wouldn't have to consider how much blame belonged to Doug. "Yes, but I can't sell it. It's in Doug's name, and I can't liquidate any of his property until his death is official, which could be in a few months or up to seven years. And I can't stop making payments, either, because if it gets repossessed, it will ruin my credit."

"I think you could take the car back to the dealer, and we could probably work out some sort of deal with them so it wouldn't go against your credit record. Usually, if the car is in good condition, they'll negotiate something rather than go to the expense and aggravation of
a repossession. If you want to let it go, I'll see what I can work out."

Kate considered the options for a moment. She hated to dispose of Doug's precious Cadillac, but she couldn't afford the sacrifice it would take to keep it. "Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea . . . if they'll do it. I hate to lose the five thousand dollars that Doug paid down on it. But if I keep making payments, I'd be losing more than that until I could sell it."

While she wrote checks to pay installments on the most urgent debts, Rusty called the dealer and set up an appointment for later that evening.

As he had predicted, the dealership was cooperative. Because the car was in such perfect condition, they accepted Kate's voluntary surrender of its possession and agreed not to report it to the credit bureau.

In a way, it was a relief, one less thing to worry about. But in another way, it was a graphic admission that Doug was not coming back. Every time Kate thought she had accepted that fact, something new would leap up to confront her, and the pain would return in full force. Packing his clothes so they could be donated to the Salvation Army, cleaning the spare room that he had used for a home office, remembering not to shop for his favorite foods, and now returning his car. It was all part of the process of letting go and getting on with her own life.

Later, as Kate sat on her patio watching
Rusty's sleek muscular body glide through the water, she was reminded of the questions he had raised earlier in the day. Why had Doug spent money they couldn't afford to buy that Cadillac? How had he let their finances get into such a hopeless condition without telling her? It certainly made her seem foolish that she had been blithely carrying on with her life without having a clue just how close they were teetering on the edge of both personal and professional bankruptcy."

Rusty's
dog, Rebel, moved closer to Kate and rested his big, shaggy head in her lap. Of questionable ancestry that appeared to be a peaceful cross between Old English sheepdog and German shepherd, the dog had immediately adopted Kate as if he sensed she needed extra protection. With her permission, Rusty had begun bringing his pet with him while he took his evening swim. Kate discovered she enjoyed the dog's company almost as much as she enjoyed his master's. In fact, there were things she could discuss with Rebel that she dared not speak aloud to anyone else.

But her doubts about Doug could not be voiced even to the dog. Kate felt disloyal for even thinking them. As she idly scratched Rebel's pointed ears, she tried to push the unanswered questions out of her mind. With just over two weeks left before the baby was due, she had plenty of other things on which to focus her thoughts.

Chapter Five

Kate leaned against the wall, staring out the window at the ripples of heat that shimmered above the empty helipad. June promised to be an unbearable month, and Kate's condition only made it worse. She felt huge, clumsy and miserable. There were no comfortable positions for sleeping, sitting or even walking.

It was almost time for lunch, and Rusty hadn't returned from his morning crew run. Kate was amazed at how busy they had been since that first call from Centex. She rarely saw Rusty during the day, except at lunchtime. She was equally amazed at how he always managed to arrange his schedule so he was back around noon each day. Although he never admitted it, Kate suspected he did it to check up on her, to make sure she was feeling okay and eating a proper meal.

At first she had been surprised at each of his thoughtful acts. With picking up doughnuts or fresh muffins at a bakery each morning on his way to the office and insisting on taking her car to the gas station for fill-ups so she wouldn't have to bother, Kate had begun to feel more pampered than she had since she was a child.

She quickly grew accustomed to Rusty spending almost every evening at her house. She enjoyed watching him swim and having someone to chase away the loneliness at dinner. She even looked forward to the nights they watched rented video movies or special shows on television, sharing a bowl of popcorn and discussing what they had seen as if they were professional movie critics. Although she wanted him to have an active social life so he would be happy in Lake Jackson, the evenings when he had other plans seemed to stretch endlessly.

Kate glanced at her watch and noted it was almost one o'clock, then-immediately felt silly that she should be keeping such close track of the time. It was not a good idea for her to grow so dependent on a man—any man—right now.

But with Rusty it was a different type of dependency than she had had with Doug. Her husband had provided her with the security of a home, a car to drive and food on the table, but Rusty was making her days easier and her evenings happier. She was glad the baby would be here soon so she would have someone else to focus on, someone to fill those empty hours and bring joy to her life. Already she was dreading the day when Rusty would pack his belongings in the back of his pickup truck and, with Rebel sitting next to him on the front seat, drive into the sunset away from C-Breeze . . . and Kate.

She would miss his skill at handling the business, but more significantly, she would miss his friendship, his wide, lazy smile, his drawling southern accent, his quick-witted conversation at the dinner table and his help with the dishes.

The sound of the chopper's blades whipping the hot air came to her ears, and Kate's eyes searched the glaringly blue sky until she located the source of the noise. A smile softened her lips at the same instant that her heart skipped with relief at the sight of the helicopter settling smoothly on the concrete pad. A shower of sand pelted the window as the long, flexible rotor blades slowed.

Kate turned back to the large, plastic-covered map of the Gulf of Mexico and tried to appear absorbed in updating the layout of oil rigs and platforms.

"You can cross out Penico rig seventy-nine. They shut it down this morning," Rusty informed her as he entered the office. "That's the bad news. The good news is that they are moving the crew and the portable equipment to their platform number eight-five beginning tomorrow morning and continuing through the weekend, and they've chosen us as their primary crew transport."

Before Kate could comment, Rusty unloaded the bags he had brought with him and spread out a seafood feast on the top of his desk. "I took a chance that you hadn't eaten and stopped by a restaurant on my way here." He leveled an amused look at her and added, "You haven't eaten, have you?"

"I wish I could say yes, just so you'd have to wipe that smirk off your face," she teased. "But no, I haven't eaten lunch yet." She scanned the variety of fish, shrimp, clams, oysters and crab legs. "What, no lobster?"

"Lobster?
Of course, there's no lobster!" he exclaimed in mock horror. "Everything here is fresh from the Gulf, and still warm, I might add. However, it won't be if you don't come over here and sit down."

"Where did you get this?" Kate asked as she sat in the comfortable, cushioned executive chair Rusty had positioned in front of the food. "It looks delicious."

"While I was making a delivery in Galveston, I made a quick side trip to one of the restaurants on the seawall. It's not that far to drive there. We should start getting out more. Not that I don't enjoy the dinners at your house, but I'll bet you'd like to have someone else do all the cooking and cleanup."

Kate swallowed the shrimp she had been chewing. She was delighted with
Rusty's suggestion, but it also disturbed her. There was an amount of intimacy that pushed the boundaries of a comfortable friendship in the thought of having dinner in a fancy restaurant. Once they left the confines of this office or the casualness of her kitchen, it would seem too much like a date. And Kate definitely wasn't ready for that . . . especially with Rusty. It was too soon. She was too pregnant. And he was too young.

The realization struck her that time would pass and also that she wouldn't be pregnant for much longer. However, he would always be seven years younger than she was. And he never let her forget that he was only in this area temporarily.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea," she responded, hoping she would be able to discourage any personal intent without losing the pleasure of his friendship. "It's getting too close to my delivery date, and I don't want to stray far from my home and the hospital. But I have a friend who loves going to restaurants. Her name is Elaine, and she's—"

"Don't tell me," he protested with a good-natured chuckle. "Let me guess. She's beautiful, intelligent and a very good cook."

Rusty had another quick flight in the afternoon. He wasn't back by the time Kate left for the evening. Oddly, she felt even more alone than before. Because of the large, late lunch, Kate decided a salad would satisfy even the most diligent nutrition police, so she put together a large bowl of fresh greens and vegetables. When Rusty had still not arrived for his regular swim, she sat down to a quiet, boring meal.

After picking at her salad for several minutes, she wrapped cellophane over the bowl and put it into the refrigerator. She wandered out to her patio, watered her pot plants and gathered a bouquet of colorful roses to brighten the house, which seemed gloomier than usual.

By the time the sky had darkened into night, Kate accepted the probability that Rusty wouldn't be stopping by, so she locked the doors, turned out the lights in the front part of the house and went to her bedroom with the intention of taking a hot shower, then going to bed early. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt fully rested, because she didn't seem to be able to sleep more than a couple of hours at a time before the baby, a leg cramp or an urgent need to go the bathroom awakened her. Perhaps being in bed an extra hour or two would increase her odds of patching together a total of eight hours of sleep.

Kate tossed her dirty clothes into the hamper,
then turned on the water. Before stepping into the tub, she couldn't help but glance at her misshapen figure. She had always taken pride in her appearance, watching her weight and keeping her hair styled in a fashionably attractive cut. Now, as she gazed at the gigantic midsection bulge where her baby had lived and grown for the past eight and a half months, she was more amazed that her body had been able to stretch and adjust itself so much than she was depressed about her out-of-proportion measurements.

Since this was her first pregnancy, she had read every book she could get her hands on about the process, and she had followed her doctor's orders to the letter. But still, the strange sensations, the movements, the changes in all her systems were a surprise—a delightful, cherished surprise. Although women had been experiencing exactly the same thing for thousands of years, Kate couldn't keep from believing that what she was feeling was somehow unique and very, very special.

She had waited a long time for this baby. It had been her and Doug's choice—actually, more Doug's than hers—to put off having children. Around her thirtieth birthday, Kate's maternal instincts had begun to nag her. By her thirty-fifth, the ticking in her ears had all the subtlety of Big Ben. She pressed Doug for a decision, and he hadn't objected. Only a few months after she stopped using birth control, she had been thrilled when the doctor confirmed her pregnancy.

Doug had been less thrilled, probably, from what she'd discovered lately, because of the financial weight that was pressing down on him. Just as he wanted to give his wife a good life, he must have been anxious that his child be born in the comfort and security money would buy. Kate would have settled for the love and companionship of a husband and father, but she accepted that men had a different way of viewing security.