After the Storm

by Janet Dailey

  "Lee is exactly what you need," she said firmly. "Someone who's solid and dependable who won't be bouncing you around as if you were on the end of a yo-yo."

  "You make him sound like an old shoe!" Lainie chuckled. "I don't think he'd appreciate that. He's really quite a handsome man, always has been."

  "Yes, but there's that air of security about him, which is exactly what you need right now." There was a great deal of grim determination in Ann's voice. It startled Lainie.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "It's just a feeling I have." Lainie could almost visualize Ann shrugging her shoulders as she said that. "What I really called for was to invite you to lunch with me tomorrow. My mother came over today and mentioned she'd been wanting to call on your mother but she wasn't sure whether she should or not. So I volunteered her to visit tomorrow noon."

  "I'd love to go-"

  "No 'buts,' please. My mother was a nurse a long time ago," Ann inserted. "She isn't likely to panic if your mother should take a bad turn. Besides, with my mother there to talk her ear off, she won't even miss you."

  "I do have a prescription for her that needs to be filled," Lainie admitted hesitantly. "I suppose I could do that while I'm out."

  "There, you see. If you really want to find an excuse, there's always one available." Ann laughed. "We'll be over tomorrow about eleven-thirty."

  "I'LL HAVE the chef's salad," Lainie ordered, glancing over the menu briefly before smiling up at the waiter, "with the house's blue cheese dressing. Coffee later."

  As Lainie had expected, Ann had brought her to one of the more plush restaurants in town. Elegant chandeliers hung in clusters from the ceilings with all the abundance of evergreen garlands at Christmas time. The muted voices of the room's occupants mingled with the tinkling of crystal and the ring of silver. White linen tablecloths stretched over the endless reaches of tables graced by chairs covered with gold velvet. Lainie draped her napkin over the gentle olive shade of her skirt, unbuttoning the matching jacket to reveal the ivory shell beneath.

  "Do you suppose they're still discussing your mother's illness, or have they progressed to our childhood maladies?" Ann grinned at her conspiratorially after the waiter had left.

  "My mother has many symptoms. They should be through about half of them," Lainie replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement while she took a sip of the ice-laden water in her goblet. "How is it that Adam didn't snap you up for lunch today?"

  "There was some directors' meeting of his firm this morning and he was sure it would carry over through lunch. So I polished his briefcase this morning and made sure he wasn't wearing trousers with a shiny seat before sending my young executive husband off to the lion's den." Then Ann's mercurial manner changed abruptly from suppressed giggles to intense interest. "Now, you tell me more about Lee."

  Lainie recounted again Lee's visit of yesterday and suffered through Ann's matchmaking tendencies with ready wit. It always seemed that when her sense of humor had vanished, Ann would pop over and tease it to the surface again. There were times when her friend refused to take any situation seriously and Lainie was given no choice but to do the same. Yet laughter kept all her other woes in their proper place. With Ann around, they never had the opportunity to take control.

  The time passed swiftly. No sooner, it seemed, had they sat down at the table than their meal was finished and they were lingering over their coffee. Ann made another audaciously funny comment about Lee's prospects as a future lover and sent Lainie into peals of laughter.

  "You make me feel like a schoolgirl again." Lainie brushed her long hair away from her face, her lips still twitching with laughter. "Giggling over my latest conquest."

  "That's the idea," Ann retorted brightly. As her gaze strayed over Lainie's shoulder her eyes suddenly glinted with the fire of battle. "Damn," she whispered, "why does he have to be here?"

  Lainie glanced over her shoulder, her own hazel eyes stiff sparkling with humor, to see who had drawn such an angry reaction from Ann. She found herself staring into Rad's dark eyes. The muscles in her stomach contracted sharply as she swallowed her laughter. There was a mesmerizing quality about his gaze that held her own even when she wanted to look away. If it hadn't been for the sardonic lines on his face, Lainie could have believed there was a glint of pleasure in his eyes. But that was ridiculous. Rad couldn't possibly be pleased to see her. He was nearly even with their table before Lainie noticed the rest of the people in his party, especially the red-haired girl preceding him who didn't attempt to hide the hostility in her green eyes.

  "Mrs. MacLeod!" Sondra exclaimed with a tinge of sarcasm in her husky voice. "What a surprise to see you again!"

  "Yes, isn't it?" Lainie could barely stop herself from bristling with old jealousy, but she felt its tremblings as she watched Rad's hand, the one wearing the elaborately scrolled gold wedding band she had given him, touch Sondra's arm.

  "Why don't you go on over to our table and tell Bob and Harry I'll be there shortly," Rad suggested to Sondra. The private look that passed between them set Lainie's teeth on edge. After Sondra had departed, accompanied by two other men in business suits, Lainie felt Rad's eyes return to her, causing a tide of warmth to flood through her.

  "Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?" She struggled to remain calm, fingering the stem of her water goblet to give her nervous hands something to do.

  "I thought there was something you wanted to talk to me about." His mocking tone unwillingly lifted her gaze to where he stood towering above her. "After five years, I've now seen you twice in one week."

  "You should mark it in your calendar," Lainie retorted bitterly, "and hope we can make it another five years."

  "I doubt if another five years would neutralize your acid tongue." The harsh lines around his mouth and nose twisted with cynicism. "There always was a chemical reaction between us."

  "I've already told you there's nothing I want from you," Lainie hissed, "so why don't you just leave me alone "

  Her insides were being twisted into knots. She didn't know how much more she could take without revealing the torment Rad was putting her through. She could hardly look at his perfectly tailored gray suit without remembering the broad tanned chest concealed beneath it, nor look at his dark hair without recalling its softness when she had run her fingers through it.

  "Check, please," Ann signaled the waiter with barely disguised impatience.

  "Don't let me run you off," Rad jeered. "I'd hate to think I spoiled your luncheon."

  "I just bet you wouldn't," Ann retorted, placing her neatly folded napkin on the table and bestowing the full force of her smoldering eyes on Rad.

  "It's time I was getting back to mother," Lainie said, knowing quite well that her friend wasn't the kind to hold back her temper. The last thing Lainie wanted was an embarrassing scene in the restaurant.

  "Your mother must be feeling better, since her dutiful daughter has left her side to enjoy a casual lunch." Rad didn't spare the sarcasm in his voice or the contemptuous gleam in his gaze.

  "Yes, she is better." Lainie breathed in deeply to keep from answering in kind.

  "That's an outright lie!" Ann rose from her chair in rigid anger. She spared Lainie a brief apologetic glance before turning on Rad with a vengeance. "Her mother is ill, terminally ill. There's no hope at all that she'll ever recover. And I despise your condescending attitude toward Lainie and her presence at her mother's side at a time like this! Lainie isn't like you. She wouldn't shirk her duties. She gave up her job and everything else to come back here to try to make her mother's last days more comfortable. I will not stand for you abusing her this way! Surely she has enough worries with hospital bills and nursing and all the regular household chores, without you coming back into her life to upset it again!"

  "How touching to spring to Lainie's defense." Rad was completely unmoved by Ann's outburst, as he turned his sardonic face toward Lainie. "How did you manage to inspire such loyalty?"

  "It
must be a recently acquired ability. I never had it when I was with you, did I, Rad?" Lainie answered with cold quietness.

  "If I was ever unfaithful, and you don't know one way or the other, it could have only been because my home life was unsatisfactory. Are you now saying that the question of my fidelity is the cause of our separation?" His eyebrow lifted arrogantly over his right eye as Rad regarded her with amusement. "After five years, you can surely come up with something more original than that?"

  "Five years, six months and fourteen days ago," Lainie corrected in frustration and could have immediately bitten her tongue off at his accompanying laughter.

  "You've kept track!" Rad's triumphant expression was a further irritant.

  "People always remember the amount of time they've been free of oppressive tyrants!" she flashed, and was rewarded by the hardening of his jaw.

  "I'm glad you have pleasant memories of something." Anger bit through every word as Rad nodded abruptly toward Ann, then back at Lainie. "I won't keep you any longer. It's obvious you're anxious to be gone."

  Lainie watched him striding away with a mixture of relief and sorrow. Their bitterly harsh arguments had always left her weak, and this time had been no different. And, as before, she knew a desire to run after the retreating broad shoulders, to touch his arm and have him stop so that her eyes and lips could beg her forgiveness and feel once again the fire of his caress. But the time when she could do that had passed. So instead she rose to her feet and joined Ann.

  "Well, that really blew our relaxing luncheon," Ann sighed. "You aren't going to want to come out with me anymore if he keeps turning up like a bad penny."

  "There was no way either of us could know he'd be here." Lainie hid the surge of longing she felt. "Besides, I've run away from him long enough and I'm too tired to try again.

  "Do you still love him?" Aim's voice was filled with quiet compassion.

  Lainie breathed in deeply to form the words of denial, but as she met her friend's open gaze she sighed, "I'm not sure. I'm not sure about anything."

  "Rad is a hard man to forget." Ann stared in the direction Rad had taken.

  Lainie silently agreed with her, fervently praying that someday she would be able to forget him and the emotion she had once felt for him.

  THE NEXT DAY, knowing that Lee would be coming over that night, Lainie responded to the demands of the house to clean its nooks and crannies. She tried to convince herself that it was because of Lee and not any desire to fill her time with work instead of thoughts of Rad MacLeod. Unfortunately her mother was excessively restless, constantly ringing the little silver bell at her bedside for her, making progress in the housework difficult and nearly impossible. Lainie had lost count of the number of times that she had laid a duster down or turned the vacuum cleaner off to race up the stairs to her mother. It was already the middle of the afternoon and she hadn't completed the downstairs yet. At this rate, she thought grimly, she would be lucky to have time to shower and change before Lee arrived.

  A bell jingled demandingly for her. She was halfway up the stairs before she realized it was the telephone and not her mother that was ringing. With a disgusted sigh she turned around and hurried toward the den.

  "Simmons residence,"' she answered.

  "Mrs. MacLeod, please," a male voice replied.

  "This is she." An apprehensive chill raced through her as Lainie tried to place the voice and failed.

  "Mrs. MacLeod, this is Greg Thomas. I'm a lawyer representing your husband."

  Lainie breathed in deeply. Was Rad filing for a divorce? The idea filled her with a feeling of dread.

  "Mr. MacLeod would like me to get together with you so that you and I could discuss some changes he would like to make."

  "What kind of changes, Mr. Thomas?" Lainie asked quietly. The black telephone receiver in her hand seemed to be made of lead. She had difficulty keeping it to her ear.

  "Regarding the token payments you're receiving from your husband each month."

  A sickening nausea attacked Lainie's stomach. She knew she had been unforgivably rude to Rad, flashing out with spiteful, bitter statements. But she never dreamed she had angered him to the point where he would withdraw the small sum he had been sending her each month. That tiny check was insignificant by itself, but when coupled with her mother's pension, it enabled them to live.

  "My mother is quite ill right now. It's nearly impossible for me to get away." Her voice trembled in spite of her attempt to sound calm and controlled.

  "Yes, Mr. MacLeod explained that to me. I believe it was your mother's illness that prompted him to increase your allotment." There was a condescending ring to the lawyer's voice.

  "Increase?" Lainie echoed weakly.

  "Yes, your husband is aware that your financial circumstances have deteriorated since your separation, and that you must be having difficulties making ends meet now that you're forced to care for your mother. I think it's a very magnanimous gesture on his part."

  Mr. Thomas named a figure so much larger than the pittance she received now that Lainie was stunned. She had been expecting the opposite, bracing herself to fight for the little she did receive. The lawyer was speaking again. Lainie had to mentally shake her head to concentrate on what he was saying.

  "…illness, you'll have doctor's bills and hospital bills, as well as other expenditures such as medication. No doubt these have piled up on you. Mr. MacLeod has suggested that this increase, be retroactive, which would give you a tidy sum to take care of some of your larger debts."

  "Why is he doing this?"

  "I've just explained, Mrs. MacLeod," the man replied patiently. "He's learned of your mother's illness and is aware of the strain it must have placed on your resources. He certainly didn't mention any other motive. It's a charitable gesture on his part. Now if we could just make an appointment for you to come into my office, there are a few papers for you to sign."

  "Charitable." The word struck a sour note.

  "That's impossible." Lainie's voice rang out sharply into the receiver, emboldened by the swelling of indignant pride in her chest.

  "But, Mrs. MacLeod, I'm sure you would like to have this increase initiated as soon as possible."

  "Our previous arrangement was quite adequate," she retorted. "This sudden attack of conscience on my husband's part would be quite touching if it weren't so insufferably arrogant."

  "Mrs. MacLeod." The obvious dismay in the lawyer's voice filled her with amused satisfaction.

  "I've managed for five years without the benefit of his pity or charity, if that's what you prefer to call it. And if my straitened circumstances cause him too much humiliation, then perhaps he should get a divorce and thus alleviate any misguided feeling of responsibility for me." She made sure her words were laced liberally with sarcasm. "You pass that message on to Mr. MacLeod."

  She replaced the receiver with all the finality of a person cutting her own throat. Heaven knew, she needed the money.

  | Go to Table of Contents |

  Chapter 3

  "WHO WAS THAT on the telephone this afternoon?" her mother inquired as Lainie walked into the room carrying her dinner tray.

  "This afternoon?" Lainie stalled. "Oh, just someone soliciting for magazine subscriptions."

  "Are you sure?" Blue eyes blinked appealing up at her. "It wasn't some bill collector and you're trying to shield me from it?"

  "Oh, mother, of course not." Lainie smiled widely. For one precarious moment she had been afraid that her mother, with her all-knowing perceptive instincts, knew the nature of the call. "We may be in a rather unsavory position moneywise, but our creditors certainly haven't got to the stage where they're ringing us at all hours and camping on our doorsteps."

  "How can you treat it so lightly?" Mrs. Simmons queried, her fingers fumbling with the coverlet in agitation.

  "Because you're being so melodramatic about it." Lainie was determinedly light and teasing, having discovered that was the only way she could avoid the
tear-jerking sessions where her mother bemoaned for hours the fate that had deprived them of the life-style they had once known. "Now, I've fixed you some delicious broth and a salad. You stop worrying about the bills and eat."

  She shook the Irish linen napkin free and placed it over her mother's lap before adding an extra pillow behind her back.

  "I really don't feel much like eating. The pain is so much worse today," her mother moaned fretfully.

  "You eat as much as you can," Lainie soothed. "I have to shower and change, but I'll be back shortly to see how you've done."

  "Is someone coming over?"

  "Lee Walters is coming over for a little while this evening."

  "We can't really afford to entertain, can we?"

  "Will you stop worrying about money!" Lainie raised her eyebrows significantly before leaning over to place a light kiss on her mother's cheek. "I've got a very inexpensive fondue all ready for a light snack."

  "Lee Walters," her mother mused softly, her mind already sidetracking itself. "Isn't he the son of Damian Walters?"

  "Yes."

  "With fair hair and blue eyes. I remember him now. I always thought he was fond of you." Mrs. Simmons smiled wistfully up at her daughter. "But I never encouraged him to come around. His father is filthy rich, but he has this peculiar idea that his children should make it on their own. I believe his son is even working as a salesman in his real estate firm, isn't he?"

  "I really don't know, mother."

  "You'd think he would at least have given him an administrative position. I remember Mrs. Walters telling me that all their children received was a paltry allowance and a car and they had to live on what they made. Why, their children don't even have a trust fund set up for them! I wouldn't be surprised if Damian Walters left all his money to some charity when he dies." Mrs. Simmons leaned her head back onto her pillow as if the brief spate of indignation had weakened her. "Which was the very reason I wasn't too anxious for you to become involved with his son, even though his family is very prominent. But considering our present position, it doesn't really matter anymore. I'm almost grateful that this boy is coming to call on you. It makes me feel we're not really social outcasts."