Cross My Heart

by Phyllis Halldorson

  He turned in her arms and clasped her to him, and she realized he was trembling. This dredging up of old wounds had been a monstrous strain. She never should have asked it of him.

  They stood holding each other for several minutes until the trembling slowed and then stopped and his breathing became less labored.

  He kissed the top of her head where his face had been resting. "I need a drink," he said. "How about you?"

  She nodded, not sure she could speak, and he let go of her and walked over to the bar.

  As he had last night, he poured brandy into two snifters and brought one to her. "Come sit on the couch with me," he said, and put his arm around her waist.

  They sat down close together, and Clint leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I didn't mean to get so…so emotional," he said. "Forgive me."

  Elyse knew what she had to do, but she clutched eagerly at any excuse to put if off for a little while. She swallowed some of the brandy. "I'm the one who should ask forgiveness. I shouldn't have put you through that. I'm so sorry."

  He took her hand and held it. "I don't want your sympathy, Elyse. I just want you to try to understand why I still find it difficult to talk about the experience."

  Difficult was a classic understatement, Elyse thought. Recounting his affair with Dinah had nearly torn him apart.

  He drained his brandy and placed the snifter on the thickly carpeted floor. "After the quarrel," Clint began, picking up his story again, "when we'd finally calmed down and could discuss things rationally, Dinah begged me to agree to our just living together. She still couldn't bring herself to marry another politician—"

  "Clint, no," Elyse interrupted. "You don't need to tell me anymore."

  "Yes, I do." He sounded weary but determined. "I want you to know everything, just the way it happened."

  She wanted to protest, but knew it would do no good. Besides, maybe talking it out to the bitter end would help him.

  "A live-in lover wasn't what I wanted. I needed a respectable marriage with a wife and children and a lifetime commitment. I told her so, and she said that was the one thing she couldn't give me. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she honestly couldn't help it. She'd been so traumatized by the political assassination of her husband that she'd been psychologically damaged."

  He sat up straight, but kept her hand in his. "I even offered to give up my career and go back to practicing law, but she wouldn't hear of it. We'd reached an impasse, and there was nowhere else to go."

  "She gave me back the diamond I'd given her, and I took it with only a nominal protest. By then I was used up, emotionally battered. I'd run out of arguments. Nothing I said could counteract the terror she felt that I'd be killed, too, and she'd have to go through the whole damn ordeal all over again. I knew she had no control over her fear, but I also knew I could no longer beg and still keep my self-respect."

  The volume of his voice had gotten lower until he was almost whispering. "She left and I never saw or heard from her again."

  He'd loosened his hold on her hand, and she pulled it gently from his. It was time to bring this to a close. She couldn't bear to watch him suffer.

  "You're still in love with her, aren't you?" she said gently.

  He just stared ahead and didn't answer. His silence was all the confirmation she needed, and she stood and walked to the bedroom, where she gathered up her purse and overnight case.

  When she got back to the great room he was still sitting where she'd left him. He looked so alone and lonely, and she hated Dinah Jefferson with a passion that was frightening. She hoped Dinah had hurt herself every bit as much as she'd hurt Clint.

  Elyse walked over to the couch and touched him on the shoulder. "Clint, are you all right?"

  "Yes," he said, then looked up and saw that she carried her purse and bag. "You're leaving?" He blinked with surprise.

  "Yes," she said unsteadily.

  "Please don't."

  She knelt in front of him and put her hands on either side of his pinched face. "I have to." Her voice quivered. "Much as I love you, I can't marry you when you're in love with another woman."

  He ran a finger across her trembling lips. "That was a long time ago."

  She closed her eyes to blink back the tears that welled in them. "I guess for some of us love really is forever."

  She reached up and kissed him tenderly. "Do you want me to call Paul to come and be with you?"

  He shook his head. "No, if you won't stay I'd rather be alone for a while. Will you still be my friend?"

  She felt a lone tear roll slowly down her cheek. "Of course. We'll even be related if Liz and Paul decide to get married."

  Another tear fell, and then another, and she got hastily to her feet. Clint rose, too, and reached for her bag, but she was quicker. "No, please don't come to the car with me."

  He nodded, then reached into his pocket and handed her a key. "You'll need it to open the door," he said. "Take it with you, and feel free to use it anytime."

  She took it and hurried away, hoping she'd be gone before the sobs that were choking her escaped.

  Chapter Eight

  For days Elyse determinedly battled the depression that drifted like a fog into the recesses of her mind. She told herself she didn't have time for despair—she had a daughter to care for, a business to run, a life to live. But the fog settled in and left her days gray and her nights black without the hope of stars.

  She recognized grief. She'd experienced its cloying debility before and was well acquainted with its capacity to undermine and disable. For Janey's sake as well as her own she couldn't let that happen.

  When she'd come home on Saturday morning with tears still streaming down her face, Liz had taken her in her arms, and the whole story of her glorious conquest and her agonizing rejection had come pouring out. Her sister had held her and comforted her and encouraged her to cry until there were no tears left.

  When Paul had arrived a few hours later, Elyse had been able to give him a coherent account of what had happened between her and Clint. She'd asked Paul to stop in to see his brother that evening and make sure he really was all right. She knew Paul had done as she asked, but though she'd seen him briefly since, they hadn't discussed what had taken place between the brothers.

  Meanwhile she worked hard to dispel her gloom and the constant ache of sorrow that accompanied it. She sketched the design for a new doll, Little Red Riding Hood, and the wolf that was a companion piece. A tame, nonthreatening wolf that would never frighten a child or make an adult uneasy. There was enough misery in the world already.

  She and Janey spent one day on the road, taking replacement stock to the two outlets that sold her dolls on consignment: a toy store in Sacramento and another in Berkeley. In the evenings she and Liz relaxed in the family room while she sewed the intricate costumes that made her dolls so appealing and Liz prepared lessons for her classes the following day. Elyse carefully avoided the subject of Clint, and Liz didn't press her.

  On Friday, just one week after she'd won then lost Clint all within a few hours, Paul and Liz tried to get Elyse to bring Janey and spend the weekend in San Francisco with them. "You need to get away," Liz argued, "and there's a lot to do with a small child in the city. Remember the fabulous zoo? The beach front? And Golden Gate Park is a great place for an active little girl to run around and let off steam. Say you'll come, honey. It'll do you both good."

  Elyse sighed and shook her head. "It's sweet of you to ask us, but you two don't need a moody sister and a four-year-old child around. You have too little time to yourselves as it is. Go ahead and have fun. Janey and I will be fine. Maybe we'll drive up to Pollock Pines after church on Sunday and have a picnic at Jenkinson Lake."

  They argued, but Elyse wouldn't be persuaded.

  The next two days were lonely ones for Elyse, and to make matters worse she inadvertently caught Clint's latest political advertisement on television. She'd been carefully avoiding the station she knew carried his messag
es, but on Saturday she was making a costume pattern for the Little Red Riding Hood doll while Janey watched cartoons. Elyse was absorbed in what she was doing and didn't notice when the program ended and her daughter wandered out of the room without turning off the set.

  Suddenly without warning a familiar baritone voice captured her attention. "Hello, I'm State Senator Clinton Sterling, and I'd like to tell you about the ease with which handguns can be bought in our state."

  Elyse dropped the scissors as her head jerked up and she turned in the direction of the screen. There was Clint, looking right at her with those extraordinary green eyes.

  The muscles in her stomach knotted, and for a moment she had trouble breathing. He was sitting at a desk with a view of Capitol Park through the picture window behind him. The ad had apparently been filmed at his office.

  He was dressed in a gray business suit with a crisp white shirt and maroon tie, and he looked like a movie star portraying a senator. Real-life politicians just weren't that handsome, but she knew for a fact that this one not only had almost perfect facial features but was flawless over every inch of his six-foot body.

  She had a wholly irrational desire to reach out and touch him there on the screen, and had actually raised her hand before she caught herself and lowered it again. The picture blurred, and she blinked away the mist in her eyes that had made her vision fuzzy. He looked happy and relaxed and self-assured.

  She felt a sharp stab of disappointment. He obviously hadn't been much affected by their breakup. It was several moments before she realized the message would have been taped well before their quarrel. By then Clint's image had disappeared and the newscaster was telling about a bank robbery.

  When Elyse reached down to pick up her scissors she noticed her hands were shaking.

  Paul and Liz arrived home Sunday evening positively beaming, and before they said a word Liz held out her left hand to show Elyse the glittering diamond ring on the fourth finger. Elyse threw her arms around her sister and squealed. "You're getting married!"

  Liz nodded, too overcome to speak, and Elyse released her and hugged Paul. "Oh, I'm so happy for you."

  He hugged her back. "So am I," he said, and his voice was thick with emotion.

  Elyse again put her arm around Liz as they headed for the back of the house. "I want to hear all about it," she babbled excitedly. "You two go on into the family room. I'll get that bottle of champagne we've been saving for a special occasion. Nothing could be more special than this."

  When they were settled in the living room with the good crystal stemware glasses filled with bubbling wine, Elyse prodded, "Now tell me everything. When is this big event going to take place?"

  Liz laughed. "Actually, it's going to be a very small event. Neither of us wants a big wedding, so we're going to Lake Tahoe next weekend."

  Elyse was truly delighted for her sister, but it was a bittersweet happiness mixed with might-have-beens. If she'd taken Clint's proposal at face value and accepted it, she'd be planning a wedding now, too. Or maybe she'd already be his wife.

  Had she made a dreadful mistake? Could she have made Clint forget about Dinah Jefferson? Wouldn't almost anything have been better than the wretchedness she'd been feeling ever since she'd walked out on him?

  Elyse forced a wide smile and looked at Paul, who was sitting on the sofa with Liz wrapped tightly in his arms. "How did you finally get her to say yes?" she asked.

  Paul looked down at Liz and his expression sobered. "Actually, Elyse, I didn't do anything new or spectacular. It was you who made up her mind for her."

  Elyse gasped. "Me?"

  Liz looked up at Paul and frowned, but he ignored her obvious warning. "Liz has seen you go through two heartbreaking experiences, first when your fiancé died, and now with my brother and his stubborn insistence on clinging to the past—"

  "No, Paul," Elyse half rose from her chair as she interrupted. "It's not Clint's fault he can't forget Dinah."

  "The hell it's not," Paul said, and slammed his champagne glass down on the table. "Dinah was a beautiful woman, both physically and spiritually. I liked her—everybody who knew her did—and no one felt sorrier for Clint than I when she walked out on him. It shattered him. I can accept that and even understand it, but dammit, it's been four years. He can't grieve forever. She's not worth it."

  Elyse dropped back into the chair. "But… but you said you liked her," she said in a puzzled tone.

  Paul sighed. "I did like her, but the truth is she just didn't love Clint enough."

  Elyse grimaced. "How can you say that?"

  "Easy. She knew how crazy he was about her. If she'd loved him as much as she insisted she did, she wouldn't have let anything come between them."

  Elyse relaxed a little. That thought had occurred to her, too, but she'd pushed it aside, unwilling to judge the woman Clint loved so deeply.

  Paul continued. "I realize that seeing her husband gunned down was an extremely traumatic experience, but it had been several years and she'd spent part of them in therapy. She should have come to terms with his death."

  Liz was trying to shush Paul, but Elyse put up her hand. "No, Liz, it's all right. I want to hear what he has to say."

  She looked again at Paul. "You're an intelligent man. Surely you'll agree that some people are stronger emotionally than others."

  "Sure, but Dinah was a strong woman. She wasn't still grieving for her husband. She was afraid of the remote possibility that since Clint was a politician he might someday be the target of another assassin." Paul snorted. "Hell, the chances were a lot better that he'd be hit by a car or drown while swimming. She was manufacturing problems that didn't exist."

  It was Liz who spoke next. "Look, you two," she said as she sat up a little straighter in Paul's arms, "you aren't doing Clint any favor by trying to analyze his feelings or Dinah's. That's something only the two people involved can know for sure. But, Elyse, Paul's right when he said you were partly responsible for my decision to marry him. I finally woke up to the fact that none of us knows what the future holds, so we'd better make the most of the present."

  She snorted self-deprecatingly. "In a sense I've been guilty of the same sin as Dinah Jefferson, the sin of letting myself be paralyzed by an unreasonable fear of something that will probably never happen. I was afraid Paul might someday fall in love with a younger woman. In effect, I haven't trusted him to know his own mind."

  She turned and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. "That's insulting, darling, and I'm truly sorry."

  She turned again to look at Elyse. "After watching you wander around all week like the ghost of your usual joyful self, I decided to live my life in the present and let the future take care of itself. Paul and I might have to work a little harder to make our marriage a success, but if every couple did that the divorce rate surely would be lower."

  Liz looked away and toyed with her glass during a few moments of silence, then spoke again, still not looking directly at her sister. "We have a favor to ask of you, Elyse."

  Elyse was puzzled by Liz's apparent evasiveness. "Surely you know I'll do anything I can for you."

  Liz sighed. "I hope so. We want you and Clint to go to the lake with us and be our witness."

  Elyse gasped and shook her head, but Liz continued. "I know it's asking a lot of you, but you're all the family I've got, and I want you at my wedding."

  Elyse felt as though she'd been punched. "Oh, Liz—"

  "No, now wait, hear me out. Clint is the only member of Paul's family who's available on such short notice, and we both want loved ones with us at such a special time."

  "I can't. I just can't." Elyse could hear the note of panic in her voice.

  Liz got up and crossed the floor to kneel in front of her. "Look, honey, I don't want to add to your unhappiness, but Clint is going to be my brother-in-law from now on. You can't avoid him completely."

  She took Elyse's cold hands between her warm ones. "Please do this for me. You're not only my baby sister,
but you're practically my daughter as well. I raised you. I was as much of a mother to you as Mom was before she died, and afterward you were my total responsibility. You're my sister, my daughter and my best friend all rolled into one package, and I can't envision getting married without you present."

  Elyse's body shook with silent sobs as love for her sister welled in her. She slid off her chair and put her arms around Liz while they knelt together on the floor and wept with nostalgia for the past, joy and sadness for the present and hope for the future. Paul sat quietly on the sofa, but his eyes were also misty.

  After a while Liz asked for a handkerchief, which Paul handed her. Then she put her hand under Elyse's chin and lifted her face. She wiped her sister's streaming eyes and put the linen cloth to her nose. "Now blow," she ordered.

  Elyse giggled. "Yes, Mama," she said, and blew.

  The tension was broken, and both women got up off the floor and went back to their seats.

  Elyse swiped at her wet cheeks with the backs of her hands and smiled. "So what time are we leaving for the lake Sunday morning?"

  Paul answered while Liz dried her own eyes and face. "We thought if we left here by eight we could have breakfast when we got up there. That will give us plenty of time to get a license, find a wedding chapel that meets with our approval and take care of any other arrangements you ladies feel are indispensable."

  "Have you talked to Clint?" Elyse asked apprehensively.

  "No," Paul said. "We haven't seen him yet. I'm hoping to catch up with him tonight to make arrangements for Liz and me to get together with him tomorrow. He's been out of town, but I think he was due back today."

  So Clint had been gone. He'd probably been too busy to give her a thought. Elyse wished she'd had something to do this past week that would have taken her mind off him.

  "What makes you so sure he'll be willing to go if I'm along?" she asked.

  Paul looked surprised. "He'll jump at the chance. Maybe he doesn't love you, Elyse, although I'm far from convinced of that, but you're very special to him. He wouldn't have asked you to marry him if you weren't. He's as miserable as you are with this situation."