Twilight (46 page)

“No.” Stuart leaned on the bar.

“Did you see one crash? If you saw one crash would you rescue the people?”

Laurie scooped Maddie up. Maybe the child would be content with one story, or two short ones. Then she could go to the party and satisfy Stuart as well. As she started for the library she heard Stuart’s voice, “Let me tell you about the cockpit.”

Laurie rushed through the stories with hardly any voice inflection, except when Maddie insisted, “He doesn’t sound like that. You have to make it growly.” Laurie’s tension mounted. What else was Luke telling Stuart? She turned the last page, hardly realizing she’d finished the story. As she surrendered her daughter to Gail, Maddie threw a tantrum. Laurie tried to reason, then left her screaming and went to change clothes for a party she now had no interest in attending.

If she had snuggled into the couch in the library, Luke on one side, Maddie on the other, lit the candles and immersed them all in stories … But Stuart was there. Soon he’d always be there. Yes, he traveled sometimes, but not like Brian’s job had required. Or was it his job? She spread on lip conditioner, then added color. Stuart liked a more dramatic look, especially when they went out at night. But she didn’t feel dramatic. She felt … empty.

As they drove to the party, she expected his questions. Luke had rubbed his face in Cal, but Stuart had missed it. Or he didn’t care. He expostulated aloud that this person or that would be there tonight. And he wanted to pick a few brains. “I just hope Barbra Streisand doesn’t corner me. She sinks in her fangs like a snake and injects her causes into your bloodstream.”

Laurie stayed on his elbow most of the night, like a decorative ornament. In the pauses she walked on eggshells and planned her responses, but Stuart never asked about Cal. Luke’s jabs had only hurt
her
. Why did he have to keep bringing up Cal? They’d only met a half dozen times, not enough to create the hero worship in her son’s voice.

When they left the party, Stuart turned with a new intensity in his eyes and said, “Why don’t we go to my place?”

It took moments for his intentions to sink in. She caught a half breath when they did. “I think … I really think we should wait.”

He let her into the car. “Does it really matter now? We are engaged.” He tucked a finger under her chin and held her eyes.

Swinging her legs inside, Laurie felt like a dope, out of step, out of sync. Her reluctance had her worried; her worry made her cross. “Brian waited.”

“There’s a surprise.” Stuart shut her door, circled, and climbed in. “Of course your engagement was only six weeks before that lovely beach ceremony.”

Sarcasm an inch thick. “I’m sorry, Stuart.” Most of what she’d done since agreeing to marry him was apologize. The pattern was too familiar. “I’m tired, and I have an appointment with your mother in the morning for …”

“Fine, fine.” He lifted his hand from the wheel.

They drove in silence. As they passed the entrance to her neighborhood, he slowed. “Is there something I should know?”

Her stomach seized. “What do you mean?” She’d thought she was ready, had all her denials in place. But if he asked now about Cal …

He turned. “I blamed Brian for his infidelity, even addressed it with him twice. But …” He brought the car to a stop and looked at her. “Did he have a reason?”

Laurie started to shake. “You mean … am I frigid?”

After a long moment, Stuart nodded.

Laurie expelled a half laugh. “Because I want to wait until we’re married, I must be frigid? Because my husband, your brother, had no self-control, it must be my fault?”

“That’s not what—”

“What would you do if I were? If you found yourself in the same predicament? You’d be discreet, that’s certain. You wouldn’t flaunt it for every tabloid.”

“Laurie, don’t make this more than—”

“Oh, certainly not. We wouldn’t want a scene—you might actually react.” She pictured Cal on the couch, intense in every pore of his being.

Stuart looked straight out the windshield. “Listen, if you don’t want to sleep together tonight that’s fine. We’ll have it soon enough.” He turned the wheel and pulled out from the curb. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

She stared at him. Did he even have nerves? He circled her driveway and pulled to a stop. When he let her out, he drew her up against him and kissed her head. “Let’s forget it, okay?”

Forget what? She was angry at his insinuations, but did she really care?

He turned her face up and kissed her lips. “It’s better to wait. The best things are worth it.”

Cal hadn’t. He’d used her distress to take what he wanted. No! They’d been kids, confused, hurting, and in love—but it had ruined her. She started to shake again.

Stuart must have felt it; he pulled her tighter into his arms. “I shouldn’t have brought up something painful. I guess my ego got stung.”

That was the first personal admission she’d heard from him. “It’s not you.” How many times would she say that to him?

“I know this is complicated, with Brian’s death and the children …”

What did the children have to do with it? That they were Brian’s? That hadn’t mattered to Cal. That they were there at all? Would Stuart be a father to them?

She pushed back to look at him. “What about the children?”

“Just the way you’re trying to balance it all. I shouldn’t have interfered. Tonight was a mistake. No—I’m thinking out loud. What I meant is I should have seen you were tired, had other plans.” He cupped her shoulders. “I wanted to show you off.” His smile was boyish and sincere and achingly close to Brian’s.

“Stuart …”

“Laurie, don’t say anything. We’ve both had enough wine to color things. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. I’m sure if this were a normal engagement it would be different.” He cupped her cheek. “But it’s all right.”

How understanding. But what exactly did he think he understood? And how could he possibly understand what she couldn’t herself? She looked into his face. “Why are we doing this?”

“Doing …” He tipped his head. “Are we getting deep?”

She swallowed.

He slid his fingers into her hair. “Because we’re right for each other.”

She felt a terrible sinking. It was true. “You could have anyone. All those gorgeous women who wanted a part of you tonight.”

“They expect too much.”

She looked into his face. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t like demands on me. I have enough of that in the rest of my life.” He looked into her face. “You’re the only woman I’ve known who doesn’t cling like Saran Wrap.”

Because she didn’t love him. “Then why marry at all?”

A smile flickered on his lips. “We talked about some of it before. You saw the rest tonight. As long as I’m an eligible bachelor …” He squeezed her shoulders. “It’s like swimming with sharks.”

“You think that’ll change when you marry?”

He flexed his hands and rested them beside her neck. “I’m not Brian. I won’t embarrass you; not because I’ll be discreet, but because it won’t happen.” His face dropped, and he looked more real than she’d ever seen him. “I’m tired of trying to please women who want more than I can give.”

If he had reached in and plucked out her heart it could scarcely have felt different. He was her. He knew there was no love between them, and he wanted it that way. He’d asked her to sleep with him, but not because he loved and needed her. They might have that, but only to ease physical needs. She should rejoice; she’d found someone as empty as herself.

“Good night, Stuart.”

He kissed her lightly. “Good night.”

It was strange to see Smilin’ Sal outside the psych center. When Cal bent beside her chair in the small garden, she gave him the smile he remembered, but then her lips parted and she said, “Hello, Cal.”

He’d never heard her voice. “Hi, Sally.”

“It’s nice of you to visit.” Gray streaked her hair, but she was younger than she looked.

“Reggie wanted to stop by as well, but he got called in. How’re you doing?”

She dropped her head to the wooden chair back and looked around her garden, still mostly fallow, but with green shoots in the beds all along the fence. “There’ll be roses this year.”

Cal looked at the climbing vines, just starting to green, tangling their way over the slats. “What color are they?”

“Red and apricot. Gil planted them when we first moved in. My anniversary present.”

The car accident that took her husband had sent her to the center, unable to speak for almost two years. Reggie had soaked her in prayer and finally melted away the hard shell that had kept her trapped. Did she know it? “They’ll be beautiful.”

“Only I’ll see them.”

Cal sat back on his haunches. “I like to think the ones in heaven can too.” He imagined Flip Casey looking down, his whiskey-soaked clothes replaced by robes as white and light as down. He had no way of knowing Flip’s place with the Lord. Maybe he’d arrived bewildered and broken. But that was God’s business, and Cal gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Sally looked up at the sky. “Gil loved the Lord.”

Cal nodded. “You’ll be together again some day.”

“That was it, you know. I just couldn’t let go.” Her lips trembled. “I put on the smile that believers expected me to wear. Wasn’t it glorious that God had called him home, they said? It didn’t feel glorious. But I smiled. And soon I couldn’t do anything but smile. The pain went deep, then deeper.”

“It’s all right, Sally. We all cope the best we can.”

She turned. “
You
know that, don’t you?”

He cocked his head. “What do you know about me?”

“All of it.”

“Reggie told you?”

She shook her head. “You did. All those times you ranted and joked and swore and hollered.”

Cal pictured the group therapy room, and Sally in her chair smiling away, never making a sound, never moving. “You heard me?”

She laughed. “I cheered. You said all the things I wanted to say but hadn’t the courage.”

“Huh.” Cal rested his forearms on his knees and studied her.

“Between Reggie’s prayers and your raving, you punched a hole in my wall big enough for me to walk out.”

A warmth stole over him, seeping into his pores and flowing through his veins. More good than he’d known had come from his trouble. “I’m glad for that, Sally. But now that you’re out …”

She waved a hand. “I know. I still need to live.”

He nodded. “It’s like starting over.”

“I get up, I get dressed, I eat. I come out to my garden.”

That’s how he felt about the woods. But if Sally didn’t get a job soon and show she could be self-sufficient, her caseworker would order her back into psychiatric care.

“Is there something you’d like to do? Some way you can support yourself?”

She tapped the back of her head against the chair. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

Cal nodded.

“Know of any openings?”

He handed her the classifieds. With the information he’d been given about her, he’d circled several possibilities.

She glanced at the paper then back to him. “You doing social work now?”

Cal dropped his chin. “In a way. Actually, I’m working off community service hours in lieu of jail time.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You got in trouble again?”

He nodded.

She laughed. “So that’s why you’re here?”

“No.” He straightened from his crouch. “I’m here because I want to see you make it.”

“What did you do?”

“Assaulted an officer.”

“Sergeant Danson?”

He jammed his hands into his pockets. “How’d you know?”

She shrugged. “From what you’d shared before …”

“Well …” He shook his head. “No excuse, really, except I had no other choice.”

She watched him a moment, then tapped the newspaper. “Which of these jobs do you think I should take?”

“I don’t think it matters. It’s just about that next step, you know?”

She nodded. “You’re a good man, Cal.”

He met her gaze. “Do you have a community? Sounds like you struggled with the believers you knew before.”

She turned away. “That bunch has no room for pain.”

“You might try Pastor Lucas’s church. They’ve been praying for you.”

“They have?” She looked up.

He nodded. “Here.” He took the card from his pocket that had the mission statement and service schedule.

She took it and laid it in her lap. “Are you still … do you still have the dreams, the shock episodes?” Without the smile, her face was painfully real.

“I haven’t climbed under any tables lately. But I dream.” He drew a quick breath. “Maybe that’ll stop someday, in God’s time. Until then …” He spread his hands.

“I dream too.”

Cal nodded.

“Thank you for coming.” She smiled.

He made a note to go again on his own time.