Honor

by Sherryl Woods

  “Just tired,” he answered tersely.

  His tone concerned her almost as much as the admission. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”

  “Yes. Good night, Lacey.”

  There was no doubt that he had dismissed her.

  “Good night, Kevin,” she said, an unmistakable strain in her voice. She sighed and reluctantly closed the door.

  She tried watching the rest of the old movie, but couldn’t keep her attention focused on the flickering black and white images. Finally she gave up.

  In her own room, with the book she’d been reading discarded, she stared at the ceiling and wondered how they could possibly hope to salvage their marriage when more often than not they treated each other like strangers, no doubt because neither of them dared to force the issues they really needed to resolve. Instead they skirted their problems, like drivers avoiding dangerous potholes.

  No more, she vowed with determination—most likely because she knew already that tomorrow offered yet another reprieve. She would use the time in Boston to think through the best way to broach things with Kevin. She would organize her thoughts, if not her emotions.

  Her plan decided, Lacey tried to sleep. Unfortunately the emotions she’d vowed to dismiss wouldn’t release their hold so easily. Every sigh of the wind, each creak of the bedsprings, every crash of waves was enough to bring her wide awake again.

  And awake, Kevin’s face was always there, and the memories of his caresses were as tantalizing as the reality.

  When dawn broke at last, she couldn’t wait to run.

  Chapter Ten

  After the unending tension of the previous evening and the sleepless night, swinging a hammer actually felt good to Lacey. Admittedly she was doing it with more energy than accuracy, but she relished the pull on her muscles, the warmth of the sun on her shoulders.

  All around her were the sounds of electric saws, hammers and the blare of sixties rock ‘n’ roll. The hammering seemed to take on the rhythm of the music.

  Simply being among a group that was mostly strangers made it easier not to think about Kevin. During their time on Cape Cod, there had been too many bold glances that unnerved her, too many innocent caresses that tempted, too many whispered words designed to lure.

  Especially yesterday. That kiss had very nearly been her undoing. Lacey felt as if she’d been walking a tightrope, trying to maintain her equilibrium above a sea of temptations.

  Now with sweat beading on her brow and tracking between her breasts, she put all of those confusing sensations out of her mind to concentrate on the task at hand. It was either that or risk slamming the hammer on her thumb instead of hitting the nails she was supposed to drive into place in the drywall. She’d already done that twice. The result was a throbbing, black and blue thumb, but she was determined not to quit until her assigned section of the house was complete. She knew how anxiously some family was waiting for the day they could move in.

  When Paula Gethers had called months ago and pleaded with her to pitch in on a unique housing project that would ultimately provide renovated, low-income homes, the concept had intrigued Lacey. And the timing couldn’t have been better. She had just left Kevin, and her days were filled with endless hours of loneliness and regrets.

  When Paula had said she didn’t want Lacey to do fund-raising, didn’t want her to write a check, Lacey had regarded her skeptically.

  “What then?”

  “I need you to hit nails, paint, maybe lay some tiles. Who knows, maybe I’ll have you learn to install plumbing.”

  Lacey had burst out laughing at that. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Paula had shaken her head. “Nope. Come take a look.”

  Lacey had gone that day and been relegated to wielding a paintbrush. She’d ended up with more paint in her hair and on her clothes than on the walls, but she’d been hooked.

  The calls had come steadily after that until Lacey was involved almost as closely with the project as her old friend. Last night’s call had been more welcome than all the others because it provided her with an excuse to put that much-needed space between herself and Kevin.

  At one time she had been on a dozen different committees, all of them demanding, all of them worthwhile. With none of them, though, had she felt such an immediate sense of satisfaction. Never before had she been able to stand back at the end of the day and look at the results of her labors and see so clearly that her contribution of time and energy truly made a difference for some family. Lacey felt good knowing that each house might become a first home for a family previously relegated to a ramshackle public-housing project.

  Admittedly there had also been a sense of poignancy. Maybe if such a program had existed years ago, there would have been help for her own family. They had lived in a cramped, run-down, rented apartment, unable to afford anything better, yet too well-off to qualify for assistance.

  Lacey would never forget the first time she had gone home with Kevin. She had circled the huge Halloran home as if it were a museum, studying the paintings in Brandon’s collection with a sense of awe. The furnishings were perfect, down to the last crystal vase and the matching gold lighter and cigarette case. It was the first time she had truly realized how very different their lives were, and it had terrified her.

  For weeks after the visit, she had tried to break things off, tried to put some distance between them. Kevin would have none of it. Intuitively he had known how she felt and even at eighteen he had been determined.

  To her horror, he had spoken to her mother and wrangled an invitation to her home for dinner. There, amidst the garage-sale collection of furnishings and the strong aroma of garlic, he had looked as out of place as a Renoir amidst paintings on velvet.

  If he had been appalled, though, he hid it well. He had been lavish with his praise of her mother’s cooking. With the composure of someone who’d been brought up with all the social graces, he had talked about unemployment with her father, an assembly line worker who feared each and every day would be his last on the job.

  Slowly Lacey had relaxed as his charm had touched them all. The evening had been a resounding success. Only later had she realized that that night had been the start of Kevin’s transition from being solely her protector to his commitment to broader change for society itself. His fervor had ignited her own and they both had developed a sense of purpose that was all the stronger because it was something they shared.

  How long ago that all seemed now. Lacey tugged at the red bandana she’d tied around her neck and pulled it free, then used it to mop her brow. If Kevin could only see her now, she thought. He wouldn’t believe the streaks of dirt, the paint and sawdust that clung to her hair, the aching muscles that were proof that on this project at least she was pulling her own weight.

  She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t forced the issue last night and told him where she intended to spend the day. Because he’d slipped away during her conversation with Paula, then taken refuge in his room, she had felt more defeated than she had in a long time. When he’d dismissed her at the doorway, she’d consoled herself that there would be time to explain in the morning.

  But when morning came, she had been almost relieved to discover that he was still asleep. Rather than waking him, she’d left an innocuous note on the kitchen table beside a bowl of high-fiber cereal.

  “Had to go into town. Back by dinner. L.”

  A zillion years ago, he would have known where she was going, would have cared about a project like this, would have been among the first to volunteer. Her subconscious decision to keep it to herself now spoke volumes about how she felt his priorities had changed.

  Or, more likely, how she feared his reaction would disappoint her. If he showed no interest or, worse yet, if he belittled the effort, it would be irrefutable proof of how much he had changed.

  Maybe she was selling him short, though. Maybe if she gave him a chance, he would share in her excitement. There was only one way to find out. She vowed then and ther
e to tell him every detail over dinner. And if his response was only to pull out his pen and write a check, at least the cause would benefit.

  “When was the last time you actually hit a nail?” Paula inquired, her low, throaty voice filled with amusement. She sounded as if she ought to do sultry voice-overs for commercials, rather than spend her days on a construction site. “If everyone worked at this rate, the house wouldn’t be ready until next year,” she said.

  Lacey glanced at her old friend and laughed. “What can I say? Volunteer help starts slacking off when the sun goes down.”

  “We’re a good hour from sunset, lady.” Paula handed her a soft drink and settled on the bottom rung of a ladder. “You okay? You looked lost in thought, a little sad.”

  “I was just wondering what Kevin would think if he could see me now.”

  “Probably that you’d lost your marbles. That’s what Dave thinks about me, and he’s been right here every day. He still can’t believe that a woman who used to get her nails done twice a week when she was in high school now has none and isn’t hysterical over it.” She held up her hands, displaying the blunt-cut nails that were free of polish. Tiny cuts and specks of paint had turned them into a worker’s hands. “They may not be as pretty, but I figure I’ve earned every battle scar.”

  She regarded Lacey closely. “Why haven’t you told Kevin about this?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lacey admitted. “I was just thinking that I’d tell him tonight.”

  “You might have a glass of brandy nearby in case he swoons from shock the way Dave did. Or you could just bring him by sometime,” she suggested slyly. “That’s how I sold Dave and you and just about everyone else who’s gotten involved.”

  Lacey grinned. “A pretty sneaky trick, if you ask me.”

  “I’ll use whatever it takes if it means getting these houses fixed up faster. I’ve fine-tuned my approach to the contractors so they start saying yes when they see me coming. You should have heard the number I pulled on the mayor. I’ve never been more eloquent, if I do say so myself.”

  “Has he committed any city funds yet?”

  Paula shook her head. “I’m not counting on the city for anything. This is all about private citizens helping each other. I wanted him to cough up his own bucks and a few weekends of his time. I figured he’d be the ideal role model for all the other politicians and give this program some much-needed visibility.”

  “Did he agree?”

  “It’s an election year. Just imagine the photo opportunities,” she said dryly. She glanced at her watch. “If you’re going back out to the Cape tonight, you’d better get started. It will be dark soon and we’ll have to shut down for the night, anyway.”

  Lacey nodded. “I’ll try to get back later in the week, by next weekend for sure.”

  “Who knows? Maybe you’ll have Kevin along.”

  “Yes. Who knows,” she said, but she couldn’t mask her very real doubts.

  * * *

  If the furious expression on Kevin’s face when she drove up was any indication, Lacey figured she’d better not count on him for much of anything. As she crossed the lawn, he opened the screen door and stepped outside.

  When she was close enough, he waved her note under her nose. “What is this?”

  She immediately bristled at his curt tone. “The note I left for you.”

  “Is this supposed to give me the first clue about where to find you? What if there’d been an emergency? What if I’d wanted to get in touch with you? Was I supposed to call all over Boston and hope I lucked out?”

  She stopped in mid-step and studied him, worry washing through her. “Was there an emergency? Are you okay?”

  “Dammit, this is not about my health. It’s about your lack of consideration. It’s about your running off without so much as a word to let me know where you were going and when you’d be back.”

  Lacey swallowed the angry retort that rose automatically to her lips. Maybe now he would know how she felt more often than not, shut out and filled with loneliness and longing.

  “Well,” he demanded, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Nothing,” she said softly. “You’re obviously too upset to listen to reason.”

  “Don’t you dare patronize me.”

  “We’ll discuss it over dinner,” she said with deliberate calm as she left him standing in the front hall.

  “Oh, no,” he said, catching up with her in the doorway to the kitchen and moving quickly into her path. “We’ll discuss it now.”

  Lacey drew in a deep breath and lifted her gaze to clash with his. “Kevin, for the past decade you have not once beat me home in the evenings. I have always left a note just in case. Today I did the same thing. I told you I had gone out, and I told you when I’d be home. I figured you wouldn’t be any more interested in the details than you usually are.”

  Despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to keep the bitterness out at the end. He looked stunned.

  “Not interested?” he repeated softly. “I’m always interested in everything you do.”

  “No,” she said evenly. “That was true once, but not recently. As long as I was there to greet you every evening, as long as I never disrupted your plans, you never once asked a question about how I spent my days.”

  “I assumed you went to those meetings,” he muttered defensively.

  “Those meetings, as you refer to them, were a sorry substitute for having any real purpose in my life. I know that I am as much to blame for allowing that to happen as you are, but the fact of the matter is that for too long now I have been frustrated, lonely and bored to tears. While you’ve been climbing the corporate ladder of success, I’ve been searching for some niche I could fill. Thanks to Paula, I’ve found it.”

  For an instant he looked puzzled. Puzzlement slowly turned to incredulity. “Paula Gethers? The one who used to organize peace marches? I didn’t know the two of you even saw each other anymore.”

  “Actually we see each other quite a lot. I’m helping her to renovate houses.”

  Kevin’s mouth dropped open. “You’re what?” he asked, not even trying to hide his astonishment and disbelief.

  “Renovating houses,” she repeated a bit more emphatically.

  “You mean hiring contractors, decorators, that sort of thing?”

  “No. I mean picking up hammers and paintbrushes and screwdrivers.” She held out her hands for his inspection.

  He took her hands and examined them, slowly taking in the specks of paint that had escaped her cleaning, the blister on one finger, the black and blue under the nail of her thumb.

  “My God,” he breathed softly, as he gently smoothed his fingers over the rough spots. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Lacey withdrew her hand before his touch made her forget how irritated she was. “Never more so,” she said with a hint of defiance.

  “But why? You could hire anyone you wanted to do that sort of work.”

  “Not for this. There’s no money involved. The work is done by volunteers. The materials are donated. Then the houses are turned over to needy families. Paula’s more familiar with the financial arrangements made with the families, but I do know they have to help with the construction.”

  The last traces of anger vanished from Kevin’s eyes. Lacey could tell the exact instant when his imagination caught fire. Her breath caught in her throat. A radiant burst of hope spilled through her.

  “Sit down and tell me,” he said, urging her to the table. He poured them each a cup of coffee and sat down opposite her. “How does it work? Who’s involved?”

  Kevin’s sudden burst of enthusiasm was catching, reminding her of long-ago nights when they had sat just like this for hours on end. Her words tumbled over each other as she shared her excitement about the program with him. All the things she had longed to describe to him for so long came pouring out.

  “I was there the day they turned over the first house I’d worked on,” she s
aid. “A single mother was moving in with her three kids. There were tears in her eyes as she walked from room to room just touching things. She said she’d never before seen anyplace so clean.”

  Tears welled up in Lacey’s eyes as she remembered that day. “Oh, Kevin, if only you could have been there. Knowing that that house was hers filled her with so much pride and so much determination. You could see it in her face. This is the kind of social program that really works, that doesn’t spend a fortune on overhead. It gets down to one of the very first basics of life, shelter.”

  “I want to see for myself,” Kevin said when she was finally done. He got up and began to pace, just as he always had when he was trying to work out a complex problem. “Maybe there’s some way Halloran can get involved,” he said finally. “We could donate fabric for draperies, underwrite some of the costs to buy up land or old houses. What do you think? Would that help?”

  Lacey felt a wellspring of emotion rise up inside her. This was the Kevin she’d fallen in love with. This was the man who was touched by the plight of others and wanted desperately to help.

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling as if a boulder had lodged in her throat.

  He seemed puzzled by her emotion. “Lacey, it’s only some fabric and a few dollars. Halloran makes donations like that all the time.”

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong. It’s much more.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Kevin, it’s more proof that the man I fell in love with still exists. Don’t you see? If we could work together on this, it would be a start, a new beginning for us.”

  As understanding dawned, he clasped her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth. He kissed each speck of paint, each blemish until Lacey was sure the earth was falling away beneath her. She wanted to fling her arms around him, wanted to welcome him back from the cold, uncaring, distant place it seemed he’d gone without her. She held back only by reminding herself that this was only a beginning.

  They were up until midnight making plans. Dinner was no more than sandwiches hastily slapped together and eaten distractedly. When neither of them could hold their eyes open a minute longer, they were still reluctant to go to bed. In the hallway between their rooms, their gazes caught and held.