the Promise (1978)

by Steel, Danielle

  Who gives a damn, Faye? What do I care what he thinks of my work? But that wasn't entirely true either. She had always basked in the warmth of his praise, and even now there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that she had caught his attention again, with her work. Anyway, his mother was out here a while back, and I told her the same thing I'd been telling them. No. I'm not interested. I won't sell to them. I won't work with them. Period.

  And they've pursued it?

  Ardently.

  That must feel good. Do any of them realize who you are?

  Ben didn't But Michael's mother did. I think that's why she set up the meeting. Nancy fell silent and stared at her feet. She was a long way away, back in that hotel room, the day she had seen Marion.

  What did it feel like when you saw her?

  Terrible. It reminded me of everything she'd done to me. I hate her. But there was more in her voice, and Faye heard it.

  And?

  All right. Marie looked up with a sigh. It made everything hurt all over again. It reminded me of how much I had once wanted her to like me, to love me even, to accept me as Michael's wife.

  And she still rejected you?

  I'm not sure. I guess so. She's sick now. She seems different. She seemed almost sorry about what she'd done. I gather Michael hasn't been particularly happy in the last two years.

  And how did you feel about that?

  Relieved. She said it with a soft, tired sigh. And then I realized that it doesn't make any difference how he's been. It's all over for us, Faye. All of that was years ago. We're different people now. And the fact is that he never came back to me. He probably wouldn't even be running after me for my work now, if he knew who I really was who I used to be. But I'm not Nancy McAllister anymore, Faye. And he's not the Michael I knew.

  How do you know?

  I saw him. He's callous, hard, driven, cold. Oh I don't know, maybe there's something there. But there's a lot of new stuff too.

  How about pain? Loss? Disappointment? Grief?

  No, Faye, how about betrayal, abandonment, desertion, cowardice? Those are the real issues, aren't they?

  I don't know. Are they? Is that how you still feel when you see him?

  Yes. Her voice was hard again now. I hate him.

  Then you must still care for him a great deal. Marie started to deny it, but then she shook her head as tears sprang to her eyes. She looked at Faye for a long time without speaking. Nancy, do you still love him? She had purposely used the old name.

  The girl sighed deeply and let her head fall back against the couch before answering, and when she did, she looked at the ceiling and spoke in a monotone. Maybe Nancy still loves him, what little bit of her is left. But Marie doesn't. I have a new life now. I can't afford to love him anymore. She looked up at Faye with sorrow.

  Why not?

  Because he doesn't love me. Because that's not real. I have to let it go now. Totally, completely. I know that. That isn't why I came here today, to cry on your shoulder about still being in love with Michael. But I needed to tell someone how I ful. I can't really talk to Peter about it; it would upset him too much, and I needed to get some of this off my chest.

  I'm glad you did come, Marie. But I'm not sure you can just decide to let something go as simply as that, and have it fall away from you from one moment to another.

  In truth, it fell away from me two years ago, I just didn't let go until now. I told myself I had, but I hadn't. So ' She sat up straight again and looked squarely at Faye. I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow to attend to some business.

  What kind of business?

  Letting-go business. She smiled for the first time in an hour. There are some things I left unfinished back there, some things that Michael and I shared. I've let them stand as a monument to us, because I always thought he'd be back. Now I have to go back there and take care of it.

  Do you really think you're ready to handle that?

  Yes. She sounded sure of herself, even to Faye.

  Is that what you really want to do?

  Yes.

  You don't want to tell Michael who you are, or rather who you were, and see what happens?

  Marie almost shuddered. Never. That's over. Forever. And besides, she sighed again, and looked down at her hands, that wouldn't be fair to Peter.

  You have to think about being fair to Marie.

  That's why I'm going to Boston tomorrow. But I keep thinking, too, that maybe after this I'll be free to make some kind of real commitment to Peter. He's such a nice man, Faye. He's done so much for me.

  But you don't love him.

  It was frightening to hear someone else say the words, and Marie instantly shook her head. No, no, I do!

  Then why the problem making a commitment?

  Michael always stood between us.

  That's too easy, Marie. That's a cop out.

  I don't know. She paused for a long time. Something always stopped me. Something isn't ' there. I guess I haven't really let myself be there. In some ways I was waiting for Michael, and in some ways it just hasn't felt' I don't know, it just doesn't feel right, Faye. Maybe it's me.

  Why do you think it doesn't feel right?

  Well, I'm not sure, but sometimes I get the feeling that he doesn't know me. He knows me, Marie Adamson, because that's the person he helped create. He doesn't know the person I was or the things I cared about before the accident.

  Could you teach him about that, Marie?

  Maybe. But I'm not sure he wants to know. He makes me feel loved, but not for myself.

  Well, there are a lot of other fish out there, you know.

  Yes, but he's a good man, and there's no reason why it shouldn't work.

  No. Unless you don't love him.

  But I do love him. She was getting agitated as they spoke.

  Then relax, and let that problem take care of itself. You can come back here and discuss it with me, if you like. First, let's deal with your feelings about Michael.

  I just want to get this trip east over with. Then I'll be free.

  All right, then do that, but come and see me when you get back. Sound okay to you?

  Very okay. In a way, she was glad to be back. It was a relief.

  With that, Faye looked at her watch regretfully and stood up. It had already been an hour and a half, and she had to teach at the university in an hour. Will you call for an appointment when you get back?

  The minute I do.

  All right then, and be good to yourself when you go back there. Don't torment yourself about the past. And if you have any problems, call me.

  It was comforting to know that she could do that, and as she left, her mood felt lighter than it had all afternoon. Their conversation was going to make it easier for her to explain her decision to Peter.

  Chapter 30

  Boston? But why, Marie? I don't understand. Peter looked tired and irritable, which was rare. But it had been a long day and a tiresome meeting. All this non-sense about the new medical center. And he had to meet with the architects in the morning. Why did he have to be on the committee? He had better things to do with his time. I think you're crazy to make the trip.

  No, I'm not. I have to. And I'm ready. The past is over for me. Completely.

  So completely over that when we almost had an accident in the car the other day you had hysterics for an hour. It's not over.

  Darling, you have to trust me. I'm going to do the only thing I've left unfinished, and then I'll be free. I'll be back the day after tomorrow.

  It's insane.

  No. It's not. Her voice was so quiet and firm that it stopped him, and he sat back on the couch with a tired sigh. Maybe she knew what she was doing after all.

  All right. I don't understand. But I have to hope that you know what you're doing. Will be okay back there?

  I'll be fine. Trust me.

  I do, darling. It's not that I don't trust you. It's that ' oh, I don't know. I don't want you to get hurt. May I ask you a totally crazy question
?

  Oh Jesus. She hoped it wasn't that one. Not yet. But that wasn't what he had on his mind as he watched her carefully from the couch. Go ahead. She waited, as though for surgery.

  Do you know that Michael Hillyard is in town?

  I do. She was strangely calm.

  Have you seen him?

  Yes. He came to the gallery. He wants me to do some work for a new project of his out here. I turned him down.

  Did he know who you were?

  No.

  Why didn't you tell him?

  Now was the time for her to tell him about the deal with Michael's mother, but it was too late. It didn't matter anymore. It didn't make any difference. The past is over.

  Are you sure?

  Yes. That's why I'm going to Boston.

  Then I'm glad. And then he looked momentarily worried. Does the trip have anything to do with Hillyard? But he knew it couldn't. He was seeing Michael Hillyard in the morning.

  Marie firmly shook her head. No. Not the way you mean. It has to do with my past, Peter. And it has to do with only me. I don't want to say any more about it than that.

  Then I'll respect that.

  Thank you.

  He wanted to make love to her that night, but he didn't. Instead, he left quietly, with a gentle kiss. He sensed that she needed to be alone.

  It was a peaceful night, and she still felt that way when she dropped off Fred at the vet the next morning. She knew exactly what she was doing, and why, and she knew it was right.

  She caught the plane with plenty of time to spare, and she arrived in Boston at nine P.M. local time. She thought about driving out that night, but that was asking too much of lady luck. So she put it off until the following morning. She had already rented the car. All she had to do was drive there, and then drive back. She was taking the last plane home.

  She felt like a woman with a sacred mission as she went to bed in the motel that night. She had no desire to see the city, to call anyone, or go anywhere. She wasn't really there. It was all like a dream, a two-year-old dream, and she would relive it only one last time.

  Chapter 31

  Dr. Gregson?

  Yes? He was still distracted when his secretary came into the room. He had just spoken to Marie at the airport. He still had a queasy feeling about the trip, but he had to respect her feelings about something as personal as this. Still, he would feel better when she got back the next day. He looked up and tried to pay attention to his nurse. Yes?

  A Mr. Hillyard here to see you. He says you're expecting him. And there are three of his associates with him.

  Fine. Send him in. Christ. That was all he needed now. But why not? At least he'd get a look at the boy. He was actually young enough to be his son. What a miserable thought. He wondered if Marie ever thought of that.

  The four men came in and shook hands with the doctor, and the meeting got under way. They wanted to enlist his support to make their new medical center a success. They already had fifteen of the more illustrious doctors on their team, and there was no doubt that the buildings would be ideally located and magnificently appointed. It was an easy choice to make. Gregson agreed to take new offices there, and was willing to talk to some of his colleagues. But even though his responses were mechanical, he watched Michael with fascination throughout the meeting. So this was Michael Hillyard. He didn't look like a formidable opponent. But he looked young, and handsome, and very sure of himself. And in an unsettling way, Peter began to realize how much like Marie he was. There was a similarity of energy, of determination, and even of humor. The realization made Peter feel shut out, and suddenly, too, he understood. He sat very quietly for a long time, watching Michael and saying nothing at all. He wasn't even listening to the meeting anymore; he was adjusting to the reality he had avoided for so long. It made him wonder, too, exactly why Marie had gone east that morning. Was it really to destroy the last shreds of the past, or to honor them?

  For the first time, Peter wondered if he had a right to interfere. Just watching Michael, he felt as though he were seeing another side of Marie, a side he had no knowledge of. This man represented a part of her life that he didn't even understand, a part he had never wanted to know. He had wanted her to be Marie Adamson. She had never been Nancy to him. She had been someone new, someone who had been born in his hands. But now he recognized there was someone else. All the pieces of the puzzle began to fit, and he felt a sense of resignation as well as loss. He had been fighting an unfightable war, and he had been trying to recapture his own past. Marie was indeed someone new, but there were glimpses in her of the woman he had once loved, the woman who had died' . He had cherished those glimpses of Livia as well as the reality of the girl he had brought to life. Maybe he had no right to do that. He had never before had such free rein with a patient, because Marie had had no one to rely on but him. It allowed him to be everything to her ' everything except what he wanted to be now. Watching Michael, he realized that his own role in Marie's life had been very like a father's. She didn't realize it yet, but one day she would.

  The meeting was over when they stood up to shake hands, and Michael's three associates were already out of the office, waiting for him in the anteroom beyond. Gregson and Michael were exchanging pleasantries, when suddenly everything stopped, and Michael stared fixedly at something over the older man's shoulder. It was the painting she had been doing two years before ' it was to have been his wedding present ' it had been stolen from her apartment by those nurses after she died. And now it was in this man's office, and it was finished. Mesmerized, Michael walked toward it before Gregson could stop him. But nothing would have stopped him. He stood there, staring, looking for the signature, as though he already knew what he would see. There, in tiny letters in the corner, were the words. Marie Adamson.

  Oh, my God ' oh, my God ' It was all he could say as Gregson watched him. But how? It isn't ' oh, Jesus ' God ' why didn't someone tell me? What in ' But he understood now. They had lied to him. She was alive. Different. But alive. No wonder she had hated him. He hadn't even suspected. But he had been haunted by something in her, and in her photographs, all that time. There were tears in his eyes as he turned to look at Gregson.

  Peter looked at him sorrowfully, afraid of what would come. Leave her alone, Hillyard. It's all over for her now. She's been through enough. But even as he said it, the words lacked conviction. Just looking at Michael that morning, he wasn't sure that Michael should stay away from her at all. And something deep inside him wanted to tell him where she was.

  But Michael was still staring at him with a look of astonishment. They lied to me, Gregson. Did you know that? They lied to me. They told me she was dead. His eyes were brimming with tears. I've spent two years like a dead man, working like a robot, wishing I had died instead of her, and all this time For a moment he couldn't go on, and Gregson looked away. And when I saw her this week, I never knew. I' it must have killed her' no wonder she hates me. She does, doesn't she? Michael sank into a chair, stating at the painting.

  No. She doesn't hate you. She just wants to put it behind her. She has a right to do that. And I have a right to her. He wanted to say the words, but he couldn't bring himself to. But suddenly it was as though Michael had heard his thoughts. Michael had just remembered what he'd heard about Marie having a sponsor, a plastic surgeon. The words suddenly rang in his ears, and just as suddenly the anger and pain of two years was upon him. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Gregson's lapels.

  Wait a minute, damn it. What right do you have to tell me that she wants to put it behind her'? How the hell do you know? How can you even begin to understand what we had together? How can you know what any of that meant to her, or to me? If I get out of her life without saying a word, then you have it all your way, is that it, Gregson? Is that what you want? Well, to hell with you! This is my life you're playing with, mister, and it seems to me that enough people have played with it already. The only person who can tell me she wants this thing finished is Nancy.
<
br />   She already told you to leave her alone. His voice was quiet, as he looked into Michael's eyes.

  Michael backed away from him now, but there was hope mixed in with the anger and confusion in his face. For the first time in two years there was something alive there. No, Gregson. Marie Adamson told me to leave her alone. Nancy McAllister hasn't said a word to me in two years. And she's going to have a lot of explaining to do. Why didn't she call me? Why didn't she write? Why didn't she let me know she was alive? And why did they tell me she was dead? Was that her doing, or' or someone else's? And as a matter of fact he hated to ask the question because he already knew what he would hear who paid for her surgery? His eyes never left Gregson's face.

  I don't know the answers to some of your questions, Mr. Hillyard.

  And the ones you do have the answers to?

  I'm not at liberty to

  Don't give me that Michael advanced on him again, and Peter put up a hand.

  Your mother has paid for all of Marie's surgery, and for her living expenses since the accident. It was a very handsome gift. It was what Michael had feared, but it didn't really come as a shock. It fitted the rest of the picture he saw now, and maybe in some insane, misguided way his mother had thought she was doing it for him. At least she had led him back to Nancy now. He looked at Gregson again, and nodded.

  And what about you? Just exactly what is your relationship with Nancy? Now he wanted to know it all.

  I don't know that that concerns you.

  Look, damn it ' His hands were at the other man's coat again, and Peter held up a hand in defeat.

  Why don't we stop this now? The answers are all in Marie's hands. What she wants, who she wants. She may not want either one of us, you know. For whatever reasons, you haven't contacted her in two years, nor has she contacted you. And as for me, I'm almost twice her age, and for all I know, suffering from a Pygmalion complex. He sat down heavily in his desk chair and smiled ruefully. I almost think she could do better than either one of us.

  Maybe, but this time I want to hear it from her myself. He looked at his watch. I'm going over to her place right now.