Stones

by Marilyn Baron

  “When you didn’t answer your cell, I panicked,” Matt says, squeezing me tighter. “Oh, God, Julie, I’m so glad you’re okay. If anything had happened to you—I don’t know what the kids and I would do without you.”

  “I thought you were going to be out of town,” I say, raising my head away from Matt’s chest so I can bring him into focus through my tear-stained eyes.

  “When I saw where the hurricane was headed, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. There were no flights into the area, so I drove all day and all night to get to you.”

  “How did you get to the condo, anyway?” I ask. “The bridge is closed.”

  “When I arrived, the eye wall was passing over Palm Coast, and I paid a guy to take me across on his boat. Then I walked the rest of the way and took shelter in the clubhouse until it was calm enough to come out.”

  “You crossed the Intercoastal in the middle of a hurricane? You could have been killed! Why did the man agree to help you?”

  “Did I tell you I paid him a lot of money?”

  “How much is a lot?”

  “I offered to buy his boat.”

  “Matt, you didn’t.”

  He gave me a sheepish grin, with crinkly lines around the beautiful green eyes I love.

  “You always wanted a boat. Well, now you have one. At least I hope you still do.”

  “You rescued me, Matt,” I say, sniffling and burrowing further into him. “I was hoping you’d come for me.” Matt is my hero, and this is one time I don’t mind being saved.

  “Frankly, I think we’re both going to need to be rescued,” Matt admits. “I don’t know how I made it up here, but someone is definitely going to have to help us out. And don’t be so fast to make me out the hero,” Matt cautions, taking a big breath. “I don’t blame you for coming down here to meet Manny. I know I haven’t been available either emotionally or physically. I let things get out of hand. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I knew how you felt about Gellar. I knew it when I married you. But I loved you, and I wanted you too much to care.”

  “I’ve always loved the way you loved me, Matt,” I say softly. “So constant. No matter what I did, how I screwed up, how I treated you. It never changed the way you felt about me. I know I don’t deserve that. Don’t deserve you, now.”

  “I could see you were losing interest in me,” Matt acknowledges. “I know I’m not exciting. I even bore myself, sometimes.”

  “Loving someone is not boring,” I correct him. “Please don’t ever apologize for loving me. I think we both just got a little too used to each other, took each other for granted, got on each other’s nerves, maybe. After so many years, I think that’s natural.”

  I am stalling, and he can tell I have more on my mind. If I am going to come all the way home to Matt, I will have to be completely honest with him. I dread doing it. In the face of my betrayal, it is just plain cruel, and I don’t want to hurt my husband any more.

  “Matt, I know you’re going to be mad, but there’s something else I have to tell you. It’s about Josh.”

  Matt places his hand on my shoulder and says quietly, “Stop. I already know what you’re going to say.”

  I look up at him with questioning eyes.

  “I think I knew Josh had to be Manny’s son from the beginning.”

  I am stunned. “You knew? I thought you thought he was, you know, Fabio, Jr. How did you know?”

  “I know you,” he answers. “You weren’t the kind of girl who slept around. You hadn’t been with me, so there was only one person it could have been. And then when Josh started growing up, well, all you had to do was look at him. I’d have to have been blind not to notice the resemblance.”

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I’ve been holding this secret inside for so long.”

  “I had trouble admitting it even to myself. It was too painful. You offered to tell me once, but not talking about it made it seem less real. I love Josh. I wanted to keep thinking of him as mine.”

  “Of course he’s yours. You raised him.”

  Matt’s face fell as another thought occurred to him. “You didn’t tell Manny about Josh, did you?” he asks nervously, pulling slightly away from me.

  “I came so close, Matt,” I admit. “He and Nita were never able to have children. And I thought we were going to die in the storm. I wanted to clear my conscience, but thank God I didn’t.”

  Matt’s relief is palpable.

  I can tell he thinks there is a possibility Manny might still try to take Josh away from him even though our son is already grown and is his own man.

  “Manny’s missed out on a lot,” I say.

  “He missed out on you,” Matt says. “I know Manny wanted you, wanted the baby, but I interfered because I wanted you more. I cheated Gellar out of his son and a life with you. I realize that wasn’t right.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I say, still struggling with tears. “You stood in for him. You stood up for us. Manny made his own choices for his own reasons. If he had wanted me, really wanted me, he wouldn’t have let things turn out the way they did. And now, I’m glad he didn’t interfere.”

  “Maybe breaking it to Josh is the right thing to do,” Matt equivocates.

  “No,” I disagree vehemently. “I think it’s for the best that Josh doesn’t know. What good would it do him now?”

  “If Josh ever finds out, he’ll hate us, both of us,” Matt says. “He’ll never understand how we could keep something like that from him.”

  “I would deserve all the blame,” I insist. “I’m the one who lied to him.”

  Matt shifts uncomfortably. “If the worst happens, then we’ll handle it together.”

  “Manny and Nita are on the guest list for the wedding. In light of everything that’s happened, I don’t want them there, but I think we have to let them come.”

  “What if I said I was not all right with that,” Matt asked, weighing his words carefully. “What would you do?”

  “I’d make sure they weren’t there,” I assure him.

  “I guess it will be okay if they come to the wedding, although I can’t stomach the guy. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to be in the same room with him again, and I really don’t want him in the same room with my son.”

  “I know.”

  “But he did give us Josh,” Matt admits. “Josh is a great kid, isn’t he? We are lucky to have him. I still can’t believe he’s mine. I’m so proud of the way he turned out. I’m proud of both of the kids.”

  “They have a great father in you,” I say, welling up, afraid I will cry again. “You’re too good for me.”

  “That’s not the way I see it,” Matt says, enfolding me in his arms. We are enjoying our new closeness. Then he starts to speak.

  “Before you go nominating me for sainthood or anything, I have a confession to make, Julie. I’m not as noble as you think. This—you and Gellar—didn’t come as a complete surprise to me. I read some of your e-mails.”

  My eyes widen in shock as I remember some of the personal content of the correspondence, intimate things I never in a million years would want Matt to read. I don’t think it is possible to feel any worse than I already feel. Ordinarily I would be furious that he has invaded my privacy, but I am not exactly in a position to lay blame.

  “When?” I ask.

  “About a year ago,” Matt admits. “It wasn’t hard to figure out who The Big Man at gellargroup.com was. The creep is not exactly subtle.”

  “A year ago? Why didn’t you say anything?” I am getting angry now. I know I am mostly at fault, but Matt has put me through hell the past year by practically deserting me. And then there is the Gretchen issue that still has to be resolved.

  “I don’t know,” he answers. “I didn’t want a confrontation. I was hoping the whole thing would go away. I guess you’re not the only one who sticks your head in the sand. I was afraid I’d lose you and Josh if I brought it up. That if it came down to it, you would choose Manny ov
er me. That’s the reason I moved us to Atlanta, to get you away from him. You two were steaming up the screen, but it seemed sort of one-sided. I didn’t think you’d ever actually cross the line, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  Suddenly Matt’s disinterest over the past year makes sense to me. The distance between us is explained. It’s why he has been so closed off. Why he’s looked at me sometimes as though he hates me. Why he can’t or won’t sleep with me—because he is worried about me betraying him with another man, the same man. How that must have grated on him, eaten away at him.

  And maybe I was subconsciously punishing Matt for pulling my life out by its roots and pulling away from me. And maybe his careless attitude toward me after he discovered I was deceiving him just fueled my susceptibility to my old love.

  Had my mother known, too?

  Of course she had. And that’s why, although she never would have wanted me to leave her, she encouraged me to make the move to Atlanta with my husband. She was well aware of the dangers posed by a renewed relationship with Manny Gellar. She had known I might not be able to resist that strong connection.

  “Couldn’t you tell there was something seriously wrong between us?” I ask. “Matt, I was really mad at you this past year. You neglected me. I was this close to leaving you.”

  Matt looks truly shocked.

  “I was waiting for you to say something, to come clean with me, but you said nothing,” Matt countered, looking like he wanted to shake me. “It really burned me. I could hardly bring myself to touch you, I—”

  “I don’t blame you,” I say, “now that I understand.”

  “Did you ever think that our problems might have started when Josh and Natalie went off to school?” Matt asks.

  “I guess that made me more susceptible,” I admit, “but it was more than just that.”

  I wanted to set the record straight.

  “Let me tell you something about Manny Gellar that I think I’ve always known but just admitted to myself. He’s shallow, he can be crude, he’s not genuine. And he’s not you. I think he’s more in love with himself than he ever was with me, if he ever was with me. I romanticized what we once shared. The reason I came here was to try to get him out of my system so I could start over with you. I’ve done that. I know it doesn’t mean much to you now, but I’m glad I married you, Matt.”

  “It means a lot,” Matt says.

  I look into my husband’s grateful eyes and take his hand, trying to coax him out into the hall so I can see the storm damage for myself.

  “I’m warning you, the place is a disaster,” Matt says. “You don’t want to see it. It’s going to break your heart, honey.”

  Like I broke yours.

  He must have sensed my thoughts because he added, “It’s a mess. I’ll start cleaning it up. But it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” He loops his arm around me as we walk out of the guest bedroom.

  “The only thing that’s left in the living room is that ugly-ass palm tree lamp you love so much, thank God,” Matt says. “It survived without a scratch. Somehow, that makes it all bearable.”

  He says it with such amusement in his voice that we both burst out laughing, and it breaks the tension between us. It has been a long time since we’ve shared a joke together.

  But as soon as I see the ruins of my beautiful condo, my tears start flowing again.

  “Hey, honey, I think there’s enough water in this place already,” he says to reassure me.

  “Look, Matt, everything’s gone,” I sob, and my breath catches in my throat. “Ruined.”

  “Not everything,” Matt says, folding me into his arms. “They’re only things, Julie.” He places a light kiss on the top of my head. “Things can be replaced.”

  “You were right about building on the ocean,” I sniffle. “It was a bad idea. It was a sign.”

  “This was an act of God, not a punishment. You know that, don’t you?” Matt says, but I am not so sure.

  “We’re going to rebuild,” Matt announces. “This time we’ll buy an oceanfront lot and build a house.”

  It all sounds so permanent, and I wonder if Matt has really thought it through.

  “Matt, will you ever be able to forgive me, really?” I ask.

  “I want to,” he answers honestly. “But you’ll understand if it takes time? You’re not the only one who needs to be forgiven, though. There’s enough blame to go around for both of us. I was inattentive and inconsiderate.”

  “With you traveling all the time and the kids gone now—you need to understand things from my point of view.”

  “I do, Julie. I had plenty of time to think about that on the drive down here. I haven’t been there for you, and I don’t want that to happen again. I know we’ve had some rough times lately, but I hope you know that no one could love you as much as I do.”

  “Matt, I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t even sure you cared anymore. I thought you must not love me.”

  “I know I didn’t always show it, but—stop loving you? I’d sooner stop breathing than stop loving you.”

  Matt runs his hand through his hair and tries to explain. “You don’t realize the pressure I’ve been under, doing this deal with the Germans. The IPO, merging the two companies. I haven’t had any energy or urge to do anything else this whole year. I was so engrossed in work that I didn’t have much left over for you. And I was so mad at you about the e-mails and at the same time so afraid to confront you because I was sure I would lose you to him.”

  “Matt, all that time, I needed you. I was so lonely. I know that doesn’t justify my behavior or excuse it. Now that you know everything, what are you planning to do with me?”

  “Take you home,” he says, nuzzling his face against my hair, “and love you…forever, if you still want me.”

  “I don’t think I can wait that long,” I say, biting my bottom lip while Matt rubs my arms rhythmically, sensually, to get some warmth back into my system. I am numb, and I just want to feel again. In fact, I am starting to feel something that is suspiciously akin to, well, frisky. I ruffle Matt’s thick, wiry hair, feel it spring back to my touch, and then grab his shirt.

  “So, do you think you’ll keep me around for a while?” Matt teases.

  “Yes,” I answer breathlessly, as a tingly feeling spreads, my breath quickens, and I hear myself say, “Are things really all right between us?”

  The corners of his mouth turn up and his green eyes sparkle. “You know, Julie,” he says in his best Horatio Caine imitation, “I think that they are.” But this time the slow cadence of his voice isn’t pissing me off, it is turning me on.

  “Since we’re going to be here for a while, why don’t we start fixing things right now,” I suggest hopefully, walking my fingers gingerly up his arm and massaging his back. He doesn’t look alarmed that I am touching him, not even close. In fact, he is responding to me.

  He leans down and kisses me, first tenderly and then with the thirst of a man who has been wandering the desert and finally comes upon a source of water. He lifts me until I am pressed firmly up against him, molded to him. I feel his need, and I want to answer that need with all the love I have to give. I want to feel him so far inside me I will never let him go again. But not here. Not in this place that I have violated by being with Manny. Not this soon. That would be wrong. The need is there for both of us, but the trust will take longer to restore. So we will take things at a slower pace until we find our rhythm and our way back to each other.

  Holding on to Matt with everything I have, I whisper, “Let’s start now on forever.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven:

  More Secrets

  Atlanta

  Jewels@aol.com: Mercedes found a new way to pick up guys. She was in the travel section of the bookstore yesterday and accidentally-on-purpose dropped a book in front of this hunky guy. He picked it up and asked her to go for coffee. The rest, as they say, is history.

  DoubleMac@aol.com: The Cognitive Cinderella. T
o hell with the slipper. That’s what Little Jon would say.

  Jewels@aol.com: Does your husband always have an answer for everything?

  DoubleMac@aol.com: No, he typically doesn’t provide answers. He reflects. He’s a damn parrot. If I say, “Little Jon, I’m really having a problem with a student at school,” he’ll say, “A problem with a student at school?” Or yesterday I almost cried when one of my students improved and I moved her up a level in her reading group. And Little Jon said, “One of your students improved?” I can never get a straight answer or an original thought out of him. I think psychiatrists must have a problem with commitment.

  ****

  “I’m calling to RSVP to Josh and Zandy’s wedding,” Mackie announces shrilly.

  “You didn’t have to call,” I remind her. “It’s Thanksgiving weekend. I already know you’re coming up for dinner. I’ve put you down for three.”

  “Well, you’ll have to change it to two.”

  “Why? Won’t Greg be able to make it?”

  “I want you to disinvite Little Jon.”

  “Disinvite him? What do you mean?”

  “I’m leaving him, Julie.”

  “What? Are you serious?” I am totally shaken. I can’t imagine Mackie without Little Jon. The world is suddenly crumbling.

  “I’m deadly serious. I haven’t told him yet, but I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Why would you want to leave Little Jon?” I am truly horrified.

  “He slipped,” informs Mackie curtly. “I believe those were his exact words.”

  “As in tripped and fell?” I am confused and slow to comprehend.

  “As in slipped up,” Mackie corrects, this time with unmistaken venom in her voice. And once she got wound up, she couldn’t stop.

  “He’s been unfaithful to me. There’s more happening on his couch than therapy. And this isn’t the first time, either. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t even see it coming. He denied it, of course. Then there were the little inconsistencies I couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t where he said he’d be, there were the unexplained restaurant and hotel receipts, the smell of his women on his shirt, all over him. Then when I confronted him, he was all contrite and swore up and down it would never happen again, and so, dummy that I am, I let it slide. Then things were better for a while. He was sooo romantic, in an overboard kind of way. And then it would happen all over again. I don’t think he can help himself. He’s a serial cheater. Now we have a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. I don’t ask Little Jon whether he’s cheating and he doesn’t tell me.”