“Don’t do that,” he said in response. “Can’t you feel how perfectly we fit the other way?” He put his hand flat against her belly. “I like knowing I could rest my head here and not hurt you. Your softness, your curves are more erotic than hard angles and bone could ever be.” His hand moved lower, and lower still, until his fingers were pressed into her moistness.
She let out a small cry of surprise that turned to pleasure as he moved a finger against the hard nub he’d unerringly found.
She was already near a climax. When she felt herself at the edge, she tried to pull away, to wait for him, but couldn’t. Instead she tumbled uncontrollably into a series of rapid contractions that sent a hot burst of intense, coiling pleasure deep inside her belly and left her gasping for air.
She wanted more. She wanted to feel him inside of her, needed to feel him. She reached for the button on his jeans but couldn’t get it open. “Help me,” she told him, a small plea in her voice.
He lifted her onto the bed, slipped out of the rest of his clothes, and joined her. He made love to her with a tenderness and understanding that had nothing to do with show or technique or locker-room bravado, never mentioning the constriction of using protection or complaining about its necessity. She didn’t understand at first, and kept expecting the mechanics that modern male experts had dictated were necessary to please a woman. Instead, Rick tested and waited and pursued and whispered his own excitement and pleasure into her ear, making her feel like a true partner in lovemaking for the first time in her life.
He didn’t wait until they were finished to ask her if she’d climaxed again; he sensed when she was close, and moved to make the peak more intense and long-lasting.
Afterward, sated and pleasantly exhausted, they lay curled in each other’s arms. Rick kissed her forehead and then each closed eye. “Do you have anything to do today that can’t be put off?”
“Today?” she repeated sleepily.
“Yes, today—the sun’s going to be coming through this window in a couple of hours.”
She tried to remember her schedule, but nothing stood out. “I can’t think of anything. Why are you asking?”
“We need to work out what we’re going to tell Lynda.”
She opened her eyes and frowned. “About what?”
“About us.”
Catherine propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. “We’re not going to tell her anything. Why would we?”
“Because I’d rather be up-front with her than have her think something is going on behind her back. There’s no telling what she’d come up with on her own.”
“But nothing is going on. Or at least nothing will be going on when she gets home.” The nebulous fear that they were making a mistake tonight had found its focus. They’d each known they were crossing a line. What they hadn’t known was that their lines were different. Rick believed they’d gone somewhere together; she’d accepted they were ending a friendship.
He sat up, his back against the mission-style headboard. “This is it, then? Is that what you’re saying? We’re not going to see each other anymore?”
Feeling more naked than she had when they were making love, she pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. “I thought you understood.”
“The only thing I understand is that I love you.”
She recoiled at the words. “You can’t. How could you? You hardly know me.”
He caught her moving hands and held them still. “I’ve loved you almost from the moment we met.”
“You never said anything.” Her panic was like a weight in her chest, growing heavier with every word.
“I was waiting for Lynda to grow stronger,” he said simply. “She had to come first.”
Catherine was the only one who had ever put Lynda first. It was something Jack had never considered, let alone managed. She didn’t—she couldn’t—believe Rick, even though she knew he was telling the truth. “What happened to make you change your mind?”
“Nothing complicated. It was selfishness—pure and simple. I wanted you.” He held her tighter when she tried to pull away. “I’m only sorry that you’re sorry.”
“If I’d known how you feel I never would have let this happen tonight.” Tears of regret burned her throat. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had no choice. “I am sorry, Rick,” she said in a choked whisper. “More sorry than I can say. I don’t love you. I can’t.”
“But you do, Catherine. You just don’t know it yet.”
“You’re wrong. It would never work out between us. We’re too different.” She looked deeply into his eyes. “And I’m too worn-down to try to change who I am…even for you.”
“I would never ask you to change.”
“Then you’ll have to let me go, because it wouldn’t work any other way.”
Finally, nodding, he released her hands. “I’ll find someone else to mentor Lynda.”
The weight in her chest turned to regret. She would give anything to go back, just a couple of hours, to erase the words that had set them on this path, to forget his exquisite, selfless lovemaking. “She won’t understand,” she said, struggling to breathe against the regret.
“I’ll find a way,” he promised.
“I’ll miss you.” Unshed tears sent the words out in a rush and stripped them of their true depth of feeling.
He leaned forward and brought her to him for an infinitely sad and tender kiss. “Having you in my life gave me more happiness than I’d ever known. I let myself believe it was only the beginning, and forgot that belief had to be shared.”
“I’m sorry.” She managed to turn her back to him before he could see her tears. Still he touched her, offering her comfort when she’d just broken his heart. Desperately she wished it could be different, that she could take another chance, that she could trust herself one more time.
It would be so easy to give in. Rick loved her. What did it matter that they had Lynda in common and nothing else? So their relationship only lasted a year or two. Couldn’t she glory in the good while they were together and be philosophical about the bad when it ended?
So what that she would be a three-time loser. So what that her pride would be dealt a crushing blow. Surely she could pick up the pieces and go on.
But what if she couldn’t?
30
THE SKY WAS THE DEEP PURPLE OF FALSE DAWN WHEN Catherine arrived home. More out of need for shelter and isolation than out of exhaustion, she crawled into bed and curled into a fetal position, her pillow a sponge for her tears.
Finally, she cried herself to sleep.
The phone rang, dragging her from unconsciousness into a world she wasn’t yet ready to face. When she could no longer ignore the summons by incorporating it into a dream, she snaked her arm out from under the sheet and answered.
“Hello?”
“Catherine? Is that you?”
“Why are you calling this early, Jack? Is something wrong?” She gave up the hope she could go back to sleep, tucked her pillow against the headboard, and sat up.
“It’s almost noon,” he said judgmentally. “Late night?” he added.
“What do you want?”
“We need to talk. I was hoping you could meet me at Scott’s Seafood for lunch.”
“Today?” She didn’t feel like going anywhere, let alone to lunch with Jack.
“Isn’t Lynda coming home tomorrow?”
“Yes…” She didn’t like the way this was going.
“It would be better if she wasn’t around for this.” He paused. “It concerns her as much as it does us.”
“And it’s something that can’t be handled over the phone?”
“I’d prefer to do it in person.”
“What time?”
“One? Can you make it by then?”
She looked at the clock. That gave her an hour to get ready and a half hour to drive into town. She could make it if the freeway was clear. “I’ll be there.”
Grateful for the dis
traction that meeting Jack provided, Catherine managed to put aside her annoyance at being summoned. She spotted him the minute she entered the restaurant, bypassing the hostess with a quick smile.
“You’re late,” he said when she was seated.
“Five minutes.”
“Must have been some night.”
He was fishing and she refused to bite. “Have you heard the specials?”
“Salmon and some kind of chowder.” He motioned for the waiter. “We’re ready to order.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry, I still need a few minutes.”
“Something to drink?” the waiter asked.
“Club soda with lime.”
“Hangover?” Jack asked when the waiter had gone.
She didn’t bother looking up. “Having trouble at home, Jack?”
He didn’t say anything for several seconds. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
The apology brought a reaction. She put the menu aside. “Now that we have the small talk out of the way, why don’t you tell me why you wanted me here?”
He moved forward in his chair. “I’ve been going over my finances. I know I promised I’d hold off having your alimony reduced, but I don’t see how I can any longer.”
“And you’re willing to have my lawyer look at your financial records?” She knew how much the idea would upset him.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Then I guess I am.”
Not even a full-time job would get her and Lynda through this. She was going to have to sell the house. “Are you sure it has to be now? You couldn’t hold off a couple of months?”
“What possible difference would that make?”
“Lynda would be established back in school by then. I want her to have that much stability before I tell her she has to leave the house she’s lived in all of her life.”
The waiter brought her drink and they ordered. He was barely gone when Jack said, “You’re making me out to be the bad guy in this. You always do that to me.”
“And you’re putting me on the defensive, the way you always do. What happened to our détente? I thought we were going to work together to make Lynda’s life better.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, hard. “I’m trying, Catherine. I really am.”
“But?”
“I’m broke. Or damn near.” When he looked at her again, there were tears in his eyes. “I went out on a limb with something that was supposed to be surefire and it wasn’t. Adriana’s income is the only thing that’s keeping us afloat right now.”
She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Their salads came. “What are you going to do?”
“Start over. What else can I do?”
“Lynda’s college fund?” She hated to ask but had to know.
“It’s there.” He picked up his fork and put it down again. “I assume you still have your savings?”
Not nearly as much as she’d started out with. Images of St. John knits, club dues, and the money she’d continued to spend after her paychecks stopped whirled through her mind. “Some.”
“Enough to get by?”
“One way or another.”
“You know I’ll resume paying you the full alimony as soon as I’m on my feet again.”
She believed him, but it didn’t affect her the way she would have expected. She was scared about what lay ahead, but she was strangely exhilarated, too. Without the house, she could get by on a tenth of the income she’d needed. If she took the profit from the sale and bought something she could manage without outside help, she and Lynda could get by on what she made—even if it were only a part-time job.
“We’ll talk about that later,” she said. She was suddenly ravenously hungry. “Stop worrying, Jack. It will all work out.”
He gave her a surprised look. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Tears? Panic? Threats? Teethgnashing?”
“That’s how you see me?” She really wanted to know.
“That’s how you’ve always been, Catherine. You’ve never handled crises well. Why would I think you’d behave any differently now?”
“I’ve changed,” she said. The why and where and how she would think about later. Right now it was enough to know she would get through this.
He studied her for a long time. “I can see that now.”
Satisfied, she smiled.
Before Catherine left the restaurant, she looked up the address of the Firefighters’ Union Hall in the telephone book, deciding she might as well get started on her new life as soon as possible. She went there figuring it wouldn’t hurt to have a little practice applying for a job; she left employed.
She was to start a week from Monday, the same day Lynda would go back to school. Through the entire interview, she’d had a surreal feeling that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, that this was the way she was supposed to say good-bye to Rick and still see him occasionally. She would never be able to pay him back for all he had done for her and Lynda, but for once in her life, her actions would speak louder than her words.
Walking into the real estate office brought an unexpected lump to her throat. It seemed even something that had become a burden could be hard to let go.
The agent gave Catherine a rough estimate on what she could expect the house to bring, basing the figure on several similar houses that had sold in the area. She added that while spring was a better selling time, the demand for homes in Granite Bay seemed to hold steady throughout the year. With luck, the house could be sold and they could be out by Christmas.
The meeting was businesslike and friendly and the agent had the intuition or good sense not to ask Catherine why she had decided to sell. In the end, she only hesitated a moment before she signed the papers that would put the house on the market.
When she left the office and got in her car, her hands shook so badly she had to make three attempts to get the key in the ignition.
She was scared. And she was excited. And she was heavyhearted. How could she do so many things right and so many wrong in the same day?
31
“YOU’RE SELLING, THE HOUSE?” LYNDA SAT UP A from her massage and grabbed a towel to wrap around her. “Why? Where will we go? How could you do this without telling me? Don’t I get a say? It’s my house, too, you know.”
Catherine wiped the lotion off her hands. Knowing it would be impossible to continue afterward, she’d waited until the massage was almost over before telling Lynda. Although Lynda had handled the news about the job better than Catherine had expected, she’d harbored no illusions that the same thing would happen when Lynda heard about the house. If she could, Catherine would have waited. Dumping news of both the job and the house on Lynda the first day back from camp was a lot for her to take in. But the last thing she wanted was for Lynda to come home from her date with Brian and find a For Sale sign on the front lawn.
“It wasn’t a matter of choice,” Catherine said. “I have to sell.” She tossed her towel into the hamper.
“Why?”
“Because we can’t afford to live here anymore.”
“But you have a job now.”
“It doesn’t pay enough to cover the taxes and insurance on this place.”
“Can’t you get a better job?”
“I’m not qualified for anything better.” She took a clean washcloth out of the drawer, wet it, and wiped down the table. “I’m not a career woman, Lynda. I’m someone who held a job for a couple of years. There’s a huge difference.”
“I don’t understand. What about Dad? Can’t you get more money from him?”
She flinched at the suggestion. Lynda had learned that lesson by example. “He’s having problems himself. Until he gets back on his feet, he isn’t going to be able to pay full alimony, or child support. Besides, I think it’s time I
started taking care of myself, don’t you?”
“Where will we go? You’re not going to make me change schools, are you?”
“No, I’m not going to make you change schools. As for where we’ll go, I’m not sure yet. We have a lot of places we can explore—the entire city, the entire county. I was going to look for another house to buy, but I think we should rent for a while.”
“I don’t want to live in an apartment. Anything but that.”
“Good, neither do I. I was thinking more along the lines of a house. One with a big yard so we could get a dog.”
Finally something positive, something hopeful penetrated. “Really? I thought you didn’t like dogs.”
“I changed my mind.” Actually, it was Jack who hadn’t liked dogs. She’d simply gone along. The way she had with so many other things in their marriage.
“Are we poor now?” Lynda asked. Before Catherine could answer, she added, “Does this mean I’m not getting a car for my birthday?”
“Maybe,” she hedged. And then, “Probably.”
“What about college?”
“That’s taken care of.”
Lynda pressed her back into the wall and gently moved from side to side. The itching had started again. “Everything has changed,” she said softly. “I can’t count on anything anymore.”
“You can count on me.”
“How do I know that, Mom?” When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “I thought I could count on being a cheerleader and wearing tank tops and living in this house forever and being homecoming queen and having a father who loved me enough to want to see me once in a while, and I wasn’t right about any of it. Why should I think you’re any different?”
“Because you know I am. I might disappoint you sometimes, and I might not always be able to do things the way you want them done, but I will always be here for you.” She went to her and took her in her arms. “I know you’re not ready to hear this, and I know it’s going to be hard for you to believe, but I know in my heart that someday we’re going to look back at this year and remember the good more than we do the bad.”
Disguised Blessing Page 25
