Seasons of the Heart

by Cynthia Freeman

  Ann began to hope again that she could resume her life with Adam. As a temporary measure she asked Frankel if Evie was well enough for Ann to spend a week in New York. She had some pressing business.

  Frankel told her that it might actually be good for Evie—and of course Phillip was there if the girl needed anything.

  Ann thanked God for Frankel’s blessings. By now she was desperate to see Adam and reassure herself that he still loved her.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  ADAM MET HER PLANE, but during the ride into Manhattan both of them felt far too inhibited to say more than a few polite words. Each was afraid of wounding the other; of opening a breach that might never be closed. For a moment Ann wondered if coming to New York was a mistake. She remembered his cold anger. Did she dare bring up the subject of Evie? She didn’t ask him where they were headed, but knew it was his apartment. She was almost afraid.

  As soon as he had closed the door behind them, he took her in his arms and kissed her. Still not daring to speak, they went into the bedroom.

  Afterward, Ann turned toward him and sighed. “I must be depraved. No one could want a man as much as I want you.”

  He kissed her gently on her shoulder. “Ann … You can’t imagine how I’ve missed you. I know you’ve got plenty of burdens already, but I can’t take this separation much longer.”

  “I promise you—it will be over soon.” At that moment, lying in his arms, if he had ordered her to abandon her daughter and move in with him, she would have said yes. But he didn’t. She dug her fingers into his wrist. “Love me, Adam.”

  As their week together wore on, they could feel the tension building. Neither Ann nor Adam had so much as mentioned Evie’s name, but the sick girl was like a third presence on their shopping excursions, in the restaurants and theater, and even in bed.

  Their conversation grew increasingly guarded lest the forbidden subject somehow be raised.

  When they kissed goodbye at the airport, Adam said, “Ann—I mean it. This can’t go on much longer.”

  Her eyes were filled with tears as she clung to him. “It won’t—I swear it.”

  Neither Phillip nor Evie asked Ann much about her week in New York, and life continued as before. Every day Phillip and Ann told each other that their daughter was looking more like her old self. But they weren’t really convinced. Even though Evie was seeing some of her old friends, and Frankel had cut her sessions to one a week, Evie experienced moments of panic and withdrawal, and sometimes she became very nervous when either Ann or Phillip mentioned leaving the house for any length of time. She frequently cried late at night, and she refused to mention Peter. Ann read the latter as an especially unhealthy sign.

  Peter himself had realized after the terrible New Year’s Eve party that he had behaved very badly. But wasn’t Evie at least partially responsible? She had consistently refused to consider him more important than her parents’ marital squabbles, so how much could she have ever really cared for him? She had thrown a drink in his face. And then one day she had told him bluntly that she didn’t love him anymore. What more proof did he need?

  Nonetheless, when he heard that Evie was sick and had dropped out of school, his old affection for her had overcome his pride. He had sent her flowers and cards. He had even finally written her letters, begging her forgiveness and asking if there were some way they could work things out.

  But there had been no reply, and as time passed, Peter decided that her silence meant what she had said was true: she didn’t love him. Still, he begged Leslie and Kim to tell him how to contact her. When they refused, he finally gave up and flung himself into his studies. He was graduated magna cum laude, and various engineering firms bid for his services. For most of the summer, he flew all over the country on interviews, and in September he had finally accepted an offer from Bechtel. As he was signing the contract, he wondered again if he could see Evie at least once before his new firm sent him overseas. He cornered Kim one last time and dragged the information out of her. “She’s not back at school, Peter. She’s … ill.”

  “Still? What in God’s name is wrong with her?”

  His voice was so anguished that Kim felt herself weakening. After all, this was Peter, whom Evie had been so crazy about. She took his hand and said quietly, “She’s not physically ill, Peter. She’s been … depressed. She was in a sanatorium.”

  Peter was staggered. All this time he had been trying to harden his heart against Evie, calling her immature and fickle, while she was in fact alone and desperately ill.

  “You said was. Where is she now?”

  “Well, the Coulters have gotten back together and Evie is staying with them at the old house.”

  “Do you think she would see me?”

  Kim hesitated, not wanting to hurt him. She didn’t think Evie would ever be able to face Peter again, let alone tell him the truth.

  “I don’t know, Peter. Maybe, just maybe. It might be worth a try.”

  The next day he parked his old Corvette across the street from the Coulters’. Maybe she really didn’t love him, but if that were so, he was going to hear it once again from her own lips before he left for overseas.

  Taking a deep breath, he pressed the bell. Consuela opened the door and looked him up and down critically.

  “Is Evie home?”

  “She’s home, but I don’t know if she’s seeing anyone today—”

  She started to close the door, but Peter stuck his foot out, stopping her. “I think she’ll see me, Consuela. I’ll announce myself.”

  He was already past her when he saw Ann coming down the stairs.

  “Peter—I’m so happy to see you!” she said, extending her hand. “I suppose you want to see Evie.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, you’d better come into the drawing room so we can talk a little first. Tell me what you’ve been doing, Peter.”

  “Well, aside from agonizing over Evie, I’ve been hired by Bechtel. They’re sending me to Norway on a year-long project. I’ll be leaving next month and I couldn’t go without trying to straighten things out with Evie. Do you know why she never answered my letters?”

  “Peter, you have to understand,” Ann began uncomfortably. “Evie has been very ill. She had a nervous breakdown. And the doctor said it was best that we not give her any of your mail. Please … try to understand.”

  Peter’s expression betrayed his horror and incomprehension. “Mrs. Coulter—why didn’t you call me? I had a right to know. Evie wasn’t just a casual date—we’d talked about getting married.”

  At that moment it dawned on Ann how selfish she and Phillip had been in their preoccupation with Evie. Not once had they considered the feelings of this young man.

  “Peter—I don’t know what to say. Forgive me. I knew how Evie felt about you, but she was so ill … so unhappy. We were half out of our minds with worry and we could only think about protecting her. We were wrong. Can you forgive us?”

  Peter’s expression softened. “Mrs. Coulter, there’s nothing to forgive. Just tell me how she is. When can I see her?”

  Ann reflected as she studied his face. That’s a good, question, Peter. When?

  Peter was too distracted to notice that Ann was obviously at the breaking point herself. After the first elation of having Evie home again had faded, she had to acknowledge that her daughter’s recovery would be a longer process than she had anticipated, and the strain had gotten worse rather than better.

  The decision seemed to come from nowhere: at that moment Ann knew that neither Evie nor herself could continue to keep the world from Evie’s door.

  She turned to Peter and smiled. “Peter … I’ll go tell Evie that you’re here.”

  Her legs almost gave way as she marched up the staircase, went into the library, and found the packet of Peter’s cards and letters. She pulled the most recent one and went to Evie’s room.

  Evie looked up from her bed listlessly. Her breakfast tray lay untouched beside her. “What is
it, Mom?”

  Ann took a deep breath. “Peter is downstairs.”

  Evie pushed the tray to the floor. “No! I don’t want him here. Tell him to leave!”

  In that split second, Ann realized that if there was any hope for her daughter at all, this would be the turning point. Evie would have to confront the events that had led to her illness. Relying on her instincts, which had stood her in such good stead over the years, she took Evie by the shoulders and held her still while she said, “It’s going to be all right, Evie. You must trust me—it’s going to be all right.”

  Evie got up, adjusted her robe, and sat down in a wing chair facing her mother.

  “Evie,” Ann continued, “I want you to know how much your father and I love you. But the truth is that we are no longer the basis of your problem. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened. Until you do, you will never get well. And seeing Peter now is part of getting well. You don’t have to marry him, sweetheart—just face the past so you can get on with the rest of your life. Your father and I will support any decision you make. But give him—and yourself—a chance.”

  She handed the thick envelope to Evie and held her breath as her daughter slowly extracted the closely written sheets and started to read.

  The first few pages were conventional enough—news of school and the fraternity, expressions of sympathy for her illness. Then she turned to the final page.

  … Evie, darling, I have been debating whether or not to try once again with you. For months I’ve fought this battle within myself. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving you. Is there still any chance for me?

  I tell myself that you made it perfectly clear that it was over as far as you were concerned. But somehow I just can’t believe it. It was so right between us, wasn’t it?

  I knew from the very first moment I saw you that day on the campus. And I was so happy when you said that you loved me too. It just seems impossible that love like ours could die.

  No matter what has happened between us, Evie, I still love you with all my heart.

  Is there any possibility that I could see you? If the answer is no, I won’t force myself on you. But I’m hoping that the answer will be yes.

  Love,

  Peter

  Ann waited, watching Evie’s face. By the time Evie finished reading Peter’s letter, tears were pouring down her cheeks. Every word underlined Peter’s steadfast, unselfish love—a love of which she was totally unworthy.

  Finally Evie looked up and said, “I’ll see him, Mom.”

  Peter shot up the stairs three at a time. When he saw how thin and pale Evie was, he sobbed and covered his face with his hands.

  “Evie, darling,” he said softly and took a step toward her. “No, Peter! Don’t come any closer!” She pulled her robe tight around her body and shrank back into the chair.

  “Evie, darling,” he repeated, in a daze. He looked into her wide, frightened eyes. Then, in spite of her protests, he picked her up from the chair and drew her close, cradling her like a child. Evie shuddered, then, in spite of herself responded to the joy of being held by him again. The icy shell that had grown around her heart began to melt. He was so good, so strong…. She had always felt so safe with him.

  Then she remembered what she had done. She was sterile. Damaged goods. She had no claim on Peter and there was no future for them together. She pushed him away. “Please leave now, Peter. Thank you for coming to see me.”

  “Leave? I love you, Evie. What’s happened? Evie—tell me!” His voice sounded almost angry now.

  But Evie turned her back to him, unable to reply.

  Peter could stand it no longer. Spinning her around, he caught her roughly in his arms. Throwing caution to the winds, he shouted, “Evie, just what kind of a game are you playing? Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to drag it out of you? Maybe you don’t understand how many sleepless nights I’ve spent worrying about you. I asked around, but nobody would tell me anything about your illness. You just dropped out of my life. How the hell do you think I felt? But you’re better now, so why can’t we get together? Tell me.”

  “All right, Peter. Just give me a minute. Please….” She looked out the window as she tried to collect her thoughts. It was too late to turn back now. She would tell him and he would leave. It had suddenly become much easier.

  “I do love you, Peter. I always have. But I don’t have the right to. Not after what happened.”

  “Evie—how can you say that? How can you even think it?”

  “I betrayed your trust. I didn’t mean to—it just happened. What I did can’t be made right again.”

  “Evie, I can’t imagine one thing you could have done that I wouldn’t forgive.”

  She swallowed hard. “Peter, this might be that one thing. Listen. Remember that New Year’s Eve party….”

  When she had told him everything, she was surprised to discover that she felt somehow relieved, even though she knew that Peter would despise her. She waited for his reaction, but he said nothing.

  She took his hand. “You must hate me.”

  Peter finally collected his thoughts. He was furious, but not with Evie. It was Chuck who was to blame for taking advantage of Evie’s loneliness and naiveté. And Peter blamed himself, too. He should have known better than to abandon Evie at a drunken party with a well-known operator like Swanson.

  “I love you, Evie,” he said. “And that’s all that matters.”

  She didn’t have the courage to look directly at him. “But Peter—don’t you understand? We can’t have children.”

  “Evie … darling … it doesn’t matter.”

  “But we wanted a big family—remember?”

  “I know, Evie. But if we feel like it, we can adopt. It’s you I care about.”

  Suddenly all the horror and anguish of the past seemed to vanish, and Evie almost laughed out loud at the thought that not so long ago she had wanted to die. Not only wanted to, but had actually tried to do something about it!

  She turned to Peter: “Peter, you step outside for a minute. I’m going to get dressed. It’s almost time for lunch. I’ll ask them to set an extra place….”

  That afternoon, over coffee, they told Ann and Phillip that they wanted to get married before Peter was sent to Norway. “I know it’ll be a rush, Mom,” Evie said, “but we just need a small wedding—family and a few friends.”

  Ann was about to agree when she remembered that her daughter was sick. Did her bright, hopeful eyes and suddenly glowing cheeks mean that she had already recovered? It all seemed so abrupt. Things were happening too fast….

  “I do think you and Peter both should discuss your plans with Doctor Frankel. If he feels Evie is up to moving abroad, then you certainly have our blessing.”

  Frankel’s opinion was that marriage to the man she had always loved was just what Evie needed to complete her recovery. The only problem left was for her parents to tell Evie that they still planned to go ahead with the divorce. Surely now that she had a stable and happy future of her own, she would no longer be so upset….

  Ann agreed to be the one to talk to Evie the next day. That night she went to bed determined to make her daughter understand that her mother and father would always be there for her whether they lived together or apart.

  When she was ready for bed she glanced at the clock. It was one o’clock in New York, but she was too excited to wait until morning to call Adam.

  “Darling,” she said. “I hope I didn’t wake you, but—”

  “What’s wrong?” Adam asked, sitting bolt upright in bed and reaching for a cigarette.

  “Nothing. Everything is wonderful. Evie’s a thousand times better. And Adam, she’s going to be married!” Adam didn’t say a word. Their long separation was over. Ann could sell her business and move to New York.

  “Adam, are you there?”

  “Yes, darling. Tell me what happened.”

  Ann told him about Peter’s visi
t and ended by saying, “I just thank God, Adam. You’ve been so patient. There were times I thought I’d lose you.”

  “Never, Ann. You’ll never lose me.”

  “Darling, can you come to the wedding? It will be very soon since Peter has an assignment in Norway.”

  “You know I’ll come. But are you sure Evie will want me?”

  “I’m positive, Adam.”

  Ann wasn’t quite as certain as she sounded.

  The next morning she confronted Evie at breakfast.

  “Evie, your father and I think you are well enough now to hear the truth. We still feel great affection for each other, but we are no longer in love with each other. If we had been, then there would have been no room in our lives for Linda or Adam. Do you understand what I’m saying, darling? We cannot choose who we will love. It just happens. And, Evie—just as you want to spend the rest of your life with Peter, I want to spend the rest of mine with Adam. Can you accept that, darling?”

  Evie thought for a moment. She would have loved to have her parents spend the rest of their lives together. But her mother was right. On some level she had always known that the reconciliation had been a charade put on for her benefit.

  “I think I can,” she said. “I want you to be happy, Mom. And Adam is … attractive.”

  Ann jumped up and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Thank you … thank you, Evie.”

  The next three weeks passed in a frenzy of activity. Invitations had to go out, the wedding lunch planned, clothes bought to replace Evie’s wardrobe, which despite a healthy weight gain was still too large.

  Evie’s dress arrived barely in time for the ceremony, but as Ann watched her twirl about in the eggshell lace, she thought her daughter couldn’t look more beautiful if the dress had been designed with Evie in mind.

  Kim and Leslie had arrived the night before, delighted to see their friend finally well and happy. They admired everything, particularly her handsome bridegroom, and they couldn’t resist telling Evie how lucky she was to be getting such a gorgeous stepfather.