The dining-room table had been set as though it was a holiday. Autumn was the only one at the table who didn’t avoid meeting his eyes. “Hi, Daddy!” she piped up. "I make-ded a house for my ponies today.”
Dan slid into his chair beside her. “You did?”
“Uh-huh. It’s really an apple box, but I putted on some paper and some of Mommy’s sewing scraps and it looks like a house now."
He kissed her cheek. “That sounds wonderful. Will you show me later?”
“Wanna see it now?” She grabbed his hand, prepared to drag him off.
“I think we’d better eat Mommy’s supper while it’s hot. You can show me after that.”
Her face fell. “Oh. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“ ’Cause after we eat—”
“Autumn, would you like some mashed potatoes?” Lorraine asked, handing the heavy bowl to Dan. “I know they’re your favorite.”
Autumn agreed by rubbing her tummy in a dramatic circle and licking her lips. Dan dabbed a spoonful of the whipped potatoes on her plate.
Supper turned out to be a special occasion. Herb stuffing accompanied turkey, potatoes and vegetables. Lorraine had even made the orange-cranberry relish that Dan particularly enjoyed. He hadn’t had much of an appetite for the past couple of weeks, and he was soon full.
He studied her covertly as she whisked away the plates and scraped them. Something was up. He hadn’t lived with her all these years and not learned the signs. Perplexed, he glanced from one family member to the next, studying their expressions. Tom smiled at him benevolently.
“Why don’t you go sit in the family room?” Lorraine asked without looking at him. “I’ll finish up and be there in a minute. Then we’ll talk.”
Dread turning the meal he’d eaten into a hard ball in his belly, Dan stood and pushed his chair back with the backs of his legs.
“I’ll sit with you, Daddy,” Autumn offered and reached for his hand.
“Autumn, I need you to carry these scraps out to the cats,” Lorraine said.
Autumn released his hand and obeyed. Feeling like an outcast, Dan pushed in his chair and descended the carpeted stairs into the family room. He flicked on the television, thinking he’d concentrate on the end of the news.
One by one, his father, brother, Bram, Jori and Autumn filed into the room. Lorraine finally followed. She sat across from Dan and glanced at the television. “Are you watching this?”
Dan aimed the remote and switched off the set. Silence hung in the room. Jori tapped a pencil against the edge of the tv cabinet in an irritating staccato beat. Dan shot him a meaningful look and he stopped.
Dan glanced from Lorraine to his father and Tom and back, waiting. What was going on, and how long were they going to prolong it? He wanted to shout at them to get it the hell over with!
At last, Lorraine spoke. “I guess it’s time.”
Dan ground his molars together. “Time for what?” he managed.
“It seems you’ve been so busy lately, you’ve forgotten something,” she said.
“What?”
Thad and Gil came through the doorway with cakes at the same time everyone stood and shouted, “Happy birthday!”
Dan looked around foolishly. “Did you know?” he asked Tom.
“I have a great short-term memory,” Thomas quipped. “It was only two weeks ago you told me when my birthday was.”
He’d had so many other things on his mind that he’d never given the date a thought. “At least it wasn’t your birthday I forgot,” he said to Lorraine.
She grinned and leaned forward with her hands on his knees and kissed him. “Now that would have required some intensive groveling.”
Dan’s chest ached from the recent workout his pounding heart had given it. He raised a hand to brush a strand of hair from her cheek and realized his fingers were trembling.
She noticed, too. Their eyes met and held, hers darkening with worry.
“Open mine first, Dad,” Bram said and bounced on the sofa beside him. He shoved a clumsily wrapped package under Dan’s nose. Dan accepted it and tore the paper off. A plastic box with a dozen compartments held an interesting array of fishing lures.
“Nice, Bram. I can’t wait to use these. Thanks.”
The other children were impatient to have him see their selections, and there were gifts for Tom, as well.
Dan glanced at the cakes—one chocolate, one lemon chiffon, just like their mother had baked all the years they were growing up. Lorraine sliced them and handed Dan a huge piece of lemon chiffon.
Dan caught the fork before it slid into his lap and thanked her. Tom took a bite of the chocolate slice Lorraine handed him—his cake, Dan thought testily. Tom glanced from one slice to the other and gave him a curious look. Dan’s heart missed a beat.
“Something wrong?” Dan asked.
“No.” He looked at the two cakes side by side on the oak coffee table. “For a second I thought I got a picture of doing this before. Maybe it was just one of those déjà vu things.”
There it was, just as he’d feared: Tom’s memory being jogged by the sight of their birthday cakes. What else would remind him? How long would it take for his life to come back into focus?
“Your Ma always made you boys your favorite cakes,” Gil hastened to say. “Clear up till.…” Dan thought he was going to say “until you left,” but he finished, “till her strokes.”
Dan choked down the damned lemon chiffon, the same nasty cake he’d eaten every birthday since he’d taken Tom’s identity. He wanted chocolate!
Tom shrugged as if he still wasn’t sure of the fleeting image and everyone finished their cake and ice cream and wandered off to their rooms.
Leaving Tom to his sofa bed in the family room, Dan helped Lorraine rinse the plates. Shrugging off his bleak mood before he gave her cause to wonder, he followed her upstairs, where she slipped into the bathroom and returned in a short nightie. “Didn’t you wonder why I didn't give you anything?” she asked.
He had. “You don’t have to give me anything.”
She got into bed. “Okay.”
He used the bathroom and came back to find her reading. Such a deceptively ordinary scene. He plucked the paperback from her hands and held it behind his back. “Good book?”
She snuggled into the covers. “M-m-m-h-m-m, but I was getting sleepy.”
He dropped the book on her nightstand and climbed over her, making certain he jostled her on the way, and slid under the covers, then he reached up and turned off the light. “’Night.”
She flung up and switched on her lamp. “Oh, all right!”
“What?” He rolled back and gave her his most innocent look.
She reached under the bed and pulled out a small package.
Dan sat up, reaching for it. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”
“All right.” She tried to snatch it back, but he held on and pushed her back with one arm.
The square gift was surprisingly heavy. He tugged the ribbon free, peeled off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a glass apple paperweight. Etched on the crest were two linked hearts and the words, “Two Hearts That Beat As One.”
Dan looked up. Her cheeks were pink. The words were from a song they’d danced to as newlyweds. “Corny, huh?” she asked.
Shame, like a rusty blade, carved a ragged crater where he’d once had a heart. She had entrusted him with her heart, her love, her children, her livelihood. She’d given herself unsparingly and without reservation or question. She was the most beautiful woman alive, the most precious creature who’d ever breathed.
And he had defiled her love and trust with lies.
She deserved more. She deserved better. She deserved... the truth.
The truth.
Dan’s throat grew tight with the paralyzing thought. A numbing fog wrapped around his brain and filtered out all but the terrifying concept. He had to tell her.
He couldn’t go on like this. He couldn
’t live each day, each hour, each minute waiting for the other shoe to drop. Eventually, if Tom didn’t remember first, Dan would lose his mind. The idea whirled around in his head and left him pathetically devoid of anything but the tormenting thought of losing Lorraine—and her love.
“You don’t like it.” She lowered her eyes.
He placed a knuckle under her chin and raised it until her eyes met his. “I love it.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He couldn’t tell her right now. He would tell her tomorrow. He’d find somewhere for the children to go for the day and he’d tell her then. While they were alone. With plenty of time to talk and... and what...?
All he knew for sure was that he couldn’t survive any more days and nights like these.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Leaning to place the gift and wrappings on the floor, he pulled her into his arms and lay back. She turned and plunged the room into darkness again. This time the teasing was over. She ran her palms across his chest and down his belly. He caught her hands in one of his and brought them to his lips.
“Tom?” she asked.
He let go of her hands and covered her lips with his fingers. “Sh-h-h.”
He knew his lack of response puzzled her. He was always ready for her touch, eager for their lovemaking. But tonight he just wanted to hold her. “I love you, Lorraine,” he whispered. “Don’t ever forget how much I love you.”
She snuggled her head under his chin. Moonlight seeped through the half-closed mini-blinds and cast silver bars across her slender bare legs and feet. Her wonderful fresh jasmine scent stabbed him with sorrow. With reverent fingers, he stroked her thick, silken hair and knew when she fell asleep. Sleep, my love. You need your rest.
He needed to have her close now. Now while she still needed him, still loved him, still thought her life was secure and happy. Sleep, my sweet Lorraine. Tomorrow I’m going to tell you something that will hurt you more than anything you’ve ever known. Tomorrow I’m going to break your heart.
Chapter Four
“I can’t believe how much they eat!” Lorrie said as the boys slammed out the back door after grabbing a box of granola bars almost as soon as breakfast was over.
“We’ll need drinks for the pickers on Monday,” Tom said. The crew brought their own lunches, but Lorrie provided coolers of tea and lemonade all day long.
It was unusual to see her husband sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper and a cup of coffee. Autumn skipped into the kitchen and he lifted her into his lap. “Why don’t you go on into town for groceries,” he offered. “Autumn and I will play until you get back.”
Autumn grinned and clapped her hands.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Some mornings recently, he hadn’t even stayed around long enough for breakfast.
“I’d like some time with her.”
Lorrie didn’t need a second invitation to do her shopping alone. When she returned, the children were nowhere in sight, and Tom helped her put away the groceries. “Where are the kids?”
“I took them to your mom’s for the rest of the day.”
She straightened from placing fruit in the drawer in the refrigerator and turned to look at him. "You what?”
“I called your mom and drove them over. She didn’t mind. In fact, she asked if they could spend the night and go visit your Aunt Bernice with her tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And they packed a change of clothes and their toothbrushes and they’re gone.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Criminy, what will I do with myself all day?”
He folded a paper sack and slid it between the counter and the fridge without meeting her eyes. “I had a purpose.”
She shut the refrigerator door and studied him. “What’s that?”
“I wanted some time alone with you.”
She dropped her gaze to the navy Cowboys T-shirt molding his solid chest. “You’re full of surprises.”
Tom plucked a jar of peanut butter off the table and sat it inside the cupboard. “Dad and Dan went to a machinery sale in Iowa for the day. He said they’d eat supper in Des Moines and visit my aunt. They won’t be back until late this evening.”
They would be in Iowa all day. She and Thomas really were alone. “What did you have in mind?”
He folded another sack.
“Want to run naked through the house or something?”
He didn’t smile at her suggestion as he should have. The sack fell still in his hands and a little ripple of concern eddied through her chest. He held his jaw so taut his teeth must have ached. “We have to talk.”
A feeling of foreboding settled over her. Intuitively, she knew it had something to do with his restlessness since Dan’s return. “This is serious, isn’t it?"
“Yeah.” He laid the bag back down. “It’s serious.”
Fear took possession of Lorrie’s senses. Apprehension coiled in her stomach. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She’d never seen her husband like this. “Well?” she asked, not willing to wait another moment.
“Come on.” He grabbed his hat from the hook inside the laundry room. “Let’s go outside.”
She followed him out the door and across the porch.
She walked beside him across the yard and up a slope to a stand of peach trees. Lorrie gazed up into the branches and waited for him to speak. Her stomach knotted. He’d been acting so odd... what could possibly be— A sick, gripping dread seized her and she shot him a glance. "You’re not—” She couldn’t even find words for it! “There isn’t someone else?”
Tom’s mouth fell open. “No! Of course not! Why would I look twice at anyone else? For crying out loud, Lorraine, when would I have the time or the energy?”
She shrugged one shoulder foolishly, but in relief. “I don’t know. It was the worst thing I could think of.”
“Sit down,” he said.
Without argument, she sat on the ground in the shade. Well, if it wasn’t another woman or a mid-life crisis, it was something they could handle together. They’d always handled everything together. “Is it the orchards, Tom? Are we in trouble?”
He did all the bookkeeping on his own, always had, even though she’d offered to share the task.
“No.” He paced in front of her for a full minute.
She waited.
He stopped.
She looked up.
“I’m not Thomas.” He observed her from beneath his hat brim.
She waited.
“I’m Daniel.”
She waited for him to make sense.
“I’m not Tom. I’m Dan,” he repeated.
She didn’t even have to look twice. “Dan has a scar on his chin and a broken arm,” she replied.
“No. Tom has a scar on his chin and a broken arm.”
What was the joke? Whatever it was, she didn’t get it. “Tom, I—.”
“I’m not Tom,” he interrupted. He squatted down in front of her. “I’m Dan.”
Puzzled by this outrageous game, she didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know what this is supposed to prove, but I know who you are. You couldn’t trade places with your brother and fool me for a minute. I’m your wife, remember? You’ll have to pull this one on somebody else.” She started to rise.
“No.” He pushed her back down with his hands on her shoulders. “You have to listen. I have to say this. I can’t live like this anymore.”
His voice had a desperate tone she didn’t recognize, a tone that numbed her with fear. She sat back and studied him warily.
“I am Dan. Fourteen years ago, when Tom told me he was leaving, I handed him the keys to my bike and watched him go. He left without a backward glance at this place—or a word to you or my parents.”
He took his hands from her shoulders and hung his elbows over his knees, forearms dangling. “That same night you came and told me you were pregnant. I was wearing his shirt. I let you think I was him. I pr
etended to be Tom. I’ve pretended to be Tom all these years. But I'm not. I’m Dan.”
Still she stared at him, trying to understand why he would say something so outrageous. “I don’t know why you’re doing this," she said. “But it’s absurd. You can’t really expect to get a reaction from me.”
“Lorraine, I’m telling you the truth. The man you were going to marry left that day. I took his place.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He stood. He ran his hand over his face in frustration, then raised his palm to her. “Wait here.”
He ran toward the tractor garage.
Afraid, Lorrie watched him disappear. What was wrong with him? Should she take him to a doctor?
He loped back up the hill and dropped to his knees in front of her. A curved wallet with worn edges lay in his hand. He opened it and slid out a driver’s license.
She took it from him. It was Dan’s. A photo of a much younger Dan stared back at her. “See,” he said. “Here’s my social security card, a sports I.D. pass, a library card. Look.”
She did. She examined each item he handed her. “How did you come by Dan’s wallet?” she asked, knowing it hadn’t been used or updated in all these years. “What did he do without it?”
“It’s mine,” he explained again, patiently. “I hid it and told everyone I’d lost my own. I got a new driver’s license in Tom’s name.”
Lorrie studied the license in her hand and finally looked up. He really believed this. He was sincere. For a moment, his earnest story and the fear in his eyes almost made her believe it, too. “All right,” she said. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that this was true.”
His mouth thinned into a line.
“And if you were Dan, why would you have done it?”
Dropping the wallet on the ground, his hands fell to his knees. He studied something over her shoulder distractedly. “Tom had everything,” he said softly. “Dad was crazy about him, even though he didn’t want any part of the orchards or small-town life. You were crazy about him.”
How could he speak this convincingly about himself as though he were someone else? Confusion overshadowed logic in Lorrie’s head.
A Husband By Any Other Name Page 5
