What Might Have Been

by Glenda Sanders

  “Very tidy—until you consider the emotional element.”

  Richard drew in a deep breath and released it. “Yeah. The emotional element.”

  Barbara caressed his cheek with her fingertips, then kissed him briefly on the mouth. “You’ll get through this, Richard. Missy will, too.”

  She settled her cheek in the crook of his shoulder and snuggled closer to him.

  Richard stroked her hair, savoring its silky texture. “You’re not making it easy for me to peel myself off this mattress and leave.”

  “Why would you want to do a ridiculous thing like that?”

  His breath fanned through her hair, tickling her scalp deliciously. “When we were dating,” he said tenderly, “and we were both virgins, I used to lie awake nights aching for you and imagining what it would be like to be inside you. Now I lie awake missing you and wishing I could go to sleep knowing you’ll be in bed next to me in the morning.”

  He waited for her to say something, but she remained profoundly silent. He was still stroking her hair. The scent of it, clean and female, soothed him. “Do you know what I decided halfway through that first sleepless night after we made love?”

  “What?” she murmured, wiggling just a bit, giving him a new awareness of all the places their bodies were touching.

  “That I want you to sleep in my bed with me every night, so I can wake up with you every morning for the rest of my life.”

  Again, she was strangely quiet. Richard waited. And waited. Until, finally, in a voice too soft even to be called a whisper, she said, “Aren’t you supposed to kiss a woman after you say something like that to her?”

  Richard pushed up on his elbow and looked down at her face. “You know that kissing you is my second most favorite thing in the universe,” he said, “but don’t you think I deserve some reaction to my proposal first?”

  “Was that a proposal?” Barbara teased. “I thought you just wanted to live in sin.”

  “Don’t joke about this, Barbara. I’ve never been more serious in my life. I’m not very good at sin. All my experiences with sin have been disastrous. I want the real thing this time. The right thing, with the right woman. Don’t you—I thought—don’t you feel the same way?”

  She didn’t reply. Finally he said frantically, “Say something, Barbara. Don’t you love me? Doesn’t it mean something to you when we’re together like this?”

  Barbara closed her eyes and sighed, then reopened them, fixing her gaze on Richard. “Of course it does. You’ve made me feel seventeen again. It’s impossible for me to look at you and not remember all the intensity of the love I felt for you back then. And the chemistry between us is—there were times at night that I used to lie awake, remembering your kisses, and fear that I’d die without ever finding out what it would be like to make love with someone who could make me feel so much.”

  Richard shook his head in mute denial of what she was suggesting. He couldn’t be as mistaken about the nature of their relationship as she suggested. He knew it when she touched him. He knew it when he looked into her eyes. He knew it beyond reason or need of explanation; he knew it was not only in his mind, but his heart and his very soul.

  “This isn’t—nostalgia,” he said. “It’s not let’s-get-one-on-for-old-time’s-sake. I love you, Barbara. And I dare you to look me square in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

  “But you’re talking about a lifelong commitment when we’ve only seen each other—what, three times? four?—after seventeen years of total estrangement. You’re in the middle of a major crisis, Richard. You shouldn’t be making any decisions about your own life when you’re so caught up in Missy’s dilemma. You could be holding on to me because of what I represent—youth and innocence and the blind optimism that go along with them.”

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do,” he said. “Can’t you drop the counselor crap for a while and just let yourself feel something without analyzing it to death?”

  Her response was immediate. She sat up, pulling the sheet with her, holding it in place like armor. “The counselor crap? I’m a little more cautious than you, and like to think things through a little more thoroughly, and that’s ‘counselor crap’? I hate to bring it up, but you haven’t had great results from your policy of rushing into things blindly.”

  “This is different, Barbara. This is you and me. Not Christine. Not the woman I was screwing on the couch when Missy walked in. I loved you seventeen years ago and I fouled that up. I still love you, and I don’t want anything to foul it up this time. We’ve wasted half our lives. We don’t have any more time to waste on half-ass commitments.”

  The expression on her face was unreadable. “Well, say something!” he said after what seemed an inordinate period of silence.

  She rolled her eyes in taxed exasperation. “Is that supposed to knock me off my feet? You want to get married because we don’t have any more time to waste on half-ass commitments?”

  Richard frowned in pure frustration. “Okay. So I’m not romantic. Do I get any points at all for sincerity?”

  Barbara shook her head.

  “How about for being madly, hopelessly in love with you and thinking you’re the sexiest woman alive and wanting to spend the rest of my life with you?”

  Barbara smiled and asked in a sultry drawl, “If kissing me is your second favorite thing in the universe, what’s your first?”

  Richard’s hungry gaze slid over her bed-rumpled hair, her face, her bare shoulders. “I’m not sure I can show you in just—” he glanced at the clock “—twenty minutes.”

  “You could try,” she challenged, letting the sheet drop.

  10

  HOLDING THE TELEPHONE receiver to her ear, Barbara gave Missy a reassuring smile as she waited for Richard to answer his office line. “Mr. Benson, this is Barbara Wilson.”

  “Barbara? Why so formal?”

  “That’s right. Missy’s counselor.”

  “She’s with you, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. She’s right here. We’ve been having a nice visit.”

  “As nice as our last visit was?”

  Barbara steeled herself against the suggestion in his voice. “In fact, something’s come up in our discussion that I wanted to talk to you about. Missy tells me that the doctor is going to do an ultrasound at her next visit, and she’s a little apprehensive about it.”

  Richard was instantly concerned. “It’s not painful, is it? Or dangerous?”

  “No. But medical machinery can be a little intimidating. Mr. Benson, she’s asked if I would go with her, and I told her I’d have to talk to you about it first.”

  “Do you want to go?”

  “I think it’s an excellent idea. But naturally, I felt we should ask your opinion.”

  “If it’s what Missy wants and you don’t mind, I’m all for it.”

  Barbara gave Missy a thumbs-up and forced a smile. “I’m so glad you feel that way, Mr. Benson.”

  “I want to talk to you about this. Alone. When Missy isn’t listening in.”

  “I agree,” Barbara said evenly. “That would be a good idea.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. Missy and I are having a great visit. We’ve been making spaghetti sauce.” She paused as Missy waved frantically. “Excuse me.”

  “Tell him I’ll make him spaghetti now that I know how.”

  “Don’t you want to tell him yourself?”

  Missy shook her head. “That’s okay. You can tell him for me.”

  Barbara relayed the message, listened, then laughed. “Yes. I’ll tell her that.”

  After hanging up the phone, she turned to Missy. “He said that if the spaghetti is half as good as the pot roast was, he’s going to hire you out as a chef.”

  “Daddy’s so silly sometimes,” Missy said, but Barbara could see the pleasure her father’s compliment had given her.

  That evening, Richard brought wine to go with the spaghetti. “Good,” Barbara said when he presen
ted her with the bottle. “We may need it.”

  Concern captured Richard’s features. “I could tell by your voice that something was bothering you. Is it this doctor’s visit with Missy?”

  “It’s everything,” Barbara said. “If you’re not too hungry, why don’t we talk before we eat?”

  Richard nodded.

  “Make yourself comfortable, then,” Barbara said. “I’ll put this in the refrigerator.”

  When she returned to the living room, he was sitting on the couch. He patted the space next to him, and she sat as he’d invited.

  “Don’t I even get a hello kiss?” he asked.

  “Oh, Richard,” she said, gladly going into his proffered embrace. They hugged long after the kiss ended.

  “Does this have anything to do with the fact that I asked you to marry me?” he asked. “By the way, that was pretty sneaky, enticing me to make love to you so you could avoid talking about it. You knew I had to leave.”

  “So did you,” she said. “And you weren’t exactly fighting me off.”

  “I’m not perfect, but I’m not crazy, either. You obviously weren’t in the mood for talk, and you do have incredible breasts.” He grinned unforgivably at the blush that colored her cheeks.

  Barbara stiffened her spine. “This time, we talk.”

  “First,” he said. “Then I can show you how much I missed you since Friday night.”

  Barbara fought the curl of desire his suggestive bantering brought to life inside her. “We’ve got some serious problems to discuss, Richard,” she said firmly.

  He nodded solemnly. “About Missy, or about us?”

  “About Missy. And about us. Oh, Richard, I feel so incredibly conflicted. When we decided to keep our relationship between us, it seemed so simple and logical. I thought you were right about Missy having enough on her mind without us throwing a serious relationship in her face. I still think so, but—”

  She paused and wiped her hand over her face. “It was hard enough when it was just a matter of your having to sneak over here like a married man, but the closer I get to Missy, the more I feel we’re deceiving her as much as protecting her. When I was talking to you on the phone in front of her, it was like lying.”

  “So you think we should level with her about our relationship?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted miserably. “Since you asked me to marry you, I’ve been more confused than ever.”

  “About us?”

  He wasn’t expecting her to melt. But that’s the only way he could have described the way everything about her softened as she looked at him. “I used to sit in class and practice writing Barbara Simmons Benson. That should make me question whether my feelings are real or just memories of old feelings that were never resolved. But it doesn’t.”

  Her eyes held love as she smiled bittersweetly. “I don’t know if I never stopped loving you or if I just fell in love all over again. I just know that I’m crazy in love with you.”

  A thousand-ton weight floated from Richard’s chest. He’d known she loved him, known it with every fiber of his being, but it was a relief to hear her admit it. He cradled her head, sliding his fingers into her hair and curving them around her scalp. His face hovered an inch from hers. “Say it,” he said.

  “I love you?” she replied, caught off guard by his intensity.

  “That’s old news.” His mouth was so close to hers that his lips brushed hers when he smiled before imploring, “Now say, ‘Yes.’”

  He swallowed the word as it came out of her mouth, feeding on its significance. He wouldn’t have expected that after all their lovemaking of the past weeks, that a single kiss would carry so much meaning. But this kiss, which started with a promise, became a covenant between them. It left them breathless and jubilant and complete in a way they’d never been complete before.

  “It’s official now,” Richard said.

  “Yes,” she said, putting her head on his shoulder. After a long hesitation, she said, “We’ll never have just this moment again. I wish...that we could put it in a bottle and take it out when there’s nothing hanging over our heads to spoil it.”

  “Missy?”

  Barbara nodded. “The omission is so much bigger now than when we were just exploring what would happen if we got to know each other again.”

  “She’ll be pleased, Barbara. She likes you.”

  “And she loves you. She trusts both of us. Which is why she could feel betrayed when she finds out that we kept this from her.”

  “You think it’s time to tell her about us?”

  “I think it’s time to think about the best time and the best way.”

  “Maybe if we did it slowly, if you came to the house to visit. Missy would like that. I could mention that I find you attractive. She’d probably suggest that I—”

  “And what if she reacts negatively to the idea because she’s scared it would threaten her relationship with you? Would we call it quits? Or would we sneak around some more?”

  “We’re not sneaking around, damn it!” Richard said. “We’re being discreet to protect my daughter when she’s got enough on her mind without our springing this on her, too.”

  “You were right. You wanted to wait until Missy’s crisis was resolved before we got so deeply involved. If I hadn’t thrown myself at you—”

  He cupped her chin and tilted it until he could see her face. “You didn’t throw yourself at me. We were like two locomotives charging toward each other on the same track.”

  “You’re sweet to remember it that way.”

  “I don’t regret a minute—not even a second—of the time we’ve spent together. The frustration is in all the years we wasted and can’t get back again. This thing with Missy will eventually work itself out, and when it does—”

  “Maybe she’ll be my maid of honor.”

  The look in his eyes was hot enough to melt stone. “I’d marry you this minute if there was a preacher standing in front of us to perform the ceremony.”

  Barbara hugged him fiercely, and for a few minutes, at least, they lived only in the moment, savoring the richness of being able to hold each other after having been separated so many years.

  A fit of barking from the apartment next door shattered the spell. “Someone’s doorbell is ringing,” Barbara observed idly.

  “How do they put up with that dog?”

  “Gizmo? He’s a cutie! He just hates doorbells.”

  Richard harrumphed skeptically. After a silence, he asked apprehensively, “Tell me about this test Missy’s going to have.”

  “I’m no expert,” she said. “But a sonogram is something like radar. It uses sound waves that bounce off solid objects and create images. There’s no pain involved. Not every expectant woman has one, but Missy’s pregnancy is considered high risk because of her age.”

  “She didn’t tell me that. About the high risk. Is she—could she be in physical jeopardy?”

  “I’m not a doctor.”

  “But you’re a woman. A smart woman.”

  “My opinion? Missy’s a healthy sixteen-year-old. She and the baby will be fine. If she were fourteen, with a history of drug abuse or malnutrition or heavy smoking, the prognosis wouldn’t be as good for either, especially the baby.” She gave Richard an inquiring look. “Why haven’t you asked Missy’s doctor all these questions?”

  “I haven’t met Missy’s doctor.”

  “You’ve taken her for her appointments.”

  “I sit in the waiting room and write the checks. It’s an OB-GYN office. They’ve never asked me into the treatment rooms or whatever is behind that door the nurse takes the patients through.”

  “And you haven’t asked to go?”

  “It’s a woman’s world back there, and I don’t want to invade Missy’s privacy. And don’t give me that look!”

  “What look?”

  “That you’re-an-insensitive-male-and-uncaring-father look!”

  “That wasn’t what I was thinking at all,�
� Barbara said.

  “If she’d asked, I would have gone with her.”

  “Do you honestly think I’d have agreed to marry you if I’d thought you were insensitive or uncaring?”

  Richard frowned in frustration. “No. I’m sorry. My fuse is a little short. I just...I feel so responsible and yet so...powerless.”

  “You’re a parent.”

  “Sometimes I don’t feel like much of one.”

  Barbara stroked his back soothingly. “It takes a caring parent with a keen sense of responsibility to achieve the level of frustration you’re at.”

  He turned and reflexively pulled Barbara into his arms. “If I’m so caring and sensitive, why didn’t she tell me about this sonogram? Why didn’t she ask me to go with her instead of—”

  “Instead of me?”

  Richard released a labored sigh. “Do I sound like an ungrateful jerk?”

  Barbara smiled reassuringly. “We agreed that Missy needed a female confidante. That’s why I suggested counselling.”

  “So you think this is one of those female bonding things?”

  “As opposed to a rejection of you, yes. If the father were involved with the baby, she’d probably want him along, but she’d probably be a little self-conscious lying on a table with her belly bare in front of you. She’s already embarrassed about being pregnant.”

  “She’s embarrassed with me, and wouldn’t be with the little twerp who got her pregnant?”

  “It’s not that simple. I said if the father were involved with the baby, she’d probably want him along. If that were the case, and Missy were older and married, you wouldn’t think a thing about her wanting her husband with her.”

  “I guess.”

  “There just aren’t many established rules for unmarried teenaged girls who are carrying babies the father couldn’t care less about. It would be simpler if there were, so we could turn to Section 3-C on page thirty-seven of the rule book to find out who’s supposed to go with Missy when she has a sonogram.”

  She patted Richard’s knee. “That wine should be cool by now. Why don’t you decant us a glass while I cook the spaghetti.”

  “‘Decant’?” he repeated with a chuckle as they rose.