Holding On

by Karen Stivali

  She got up and walked closer to the mirror, straightening her shirt and pulling out the one collar that was tucked in at her neckline. She combed her fingers through her hair, trying to coax it into some semblance of order, but gave up, twisting it back up and reclamping it. She rubbed her fingers beneath her eyes, trying to remove the stubborn traces of mascara that remained.

  The figure that appeared behind her in the mirror startled her so much she let out a shriek.

  Bob’s deep voice answered. “Take it easy. It’s just me.”

  Marienne felt her breath return. Her head tingled. “You scared me.”

  “I can see that.” He reached out and rubbed her arm. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. I didn’t expect to see anyone in the mirror.” She craned her neck to see if her scream had woken Drew, but he remained blissfully unaware, his chest rising and falling in even rhythm.

  “I was looking for you. What are you doing in here?” Bob asked.

  “I wanted to make a call. I haven’t been able to speak to Daniel since he left.”

  “Oh.” The tone in Bob’s voice made Marienne recall the scene at her house the night before.

  “How’s your mom doing?”

  “Much better, thanks.”

  “I’m glad.” Marienne fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really sorry about the way Daniel treated you yesterday. He’s just under a lot of stress.”

  Bob smiled. “There’s no need to apologize.” He took a step closer.

  “Yes, there is. I felt terrible about it. He shouldn’t have said those things to you.” She felt her face flush. She couldn’t even look at him.

  “Actually, he had every right to say what he said.” Bob put his hand on Marienne’s shoulder, his fingers rubbing gently against her back.

  “What?” She met his eyes, uncertain what he was saying.

  “If you were my wife, I’d be every bit as jealous. If you were my wife, I’d never let you out of my sight. I’d…” His pale eyes darkened in a way she’d never seen before, deep blue, boring into hers. And then his mouth was on hers.

  The shock from the contact knocked Marienne off balance, but Bob caught her with a strong arm around her waist. His lips parted hers, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. She tried to speak, but he swirled his tongue faster, his arm dipping her backward, keeping her from getting her footing.

  This can’t be happening.

  She wrenched her face away from his, and he snuck in one last kiss before pulling her upright.

  Marienne’s mouth remained open as she stared at him. He looked pleased and smug. “I should have done that months ago.”

  Marienne dragged the back of her hand across her lips. “You shouldn’t have done that, ever.”

  “Come on,” he said, reaching toward her hair.

  “Stop it.” She batted his arm away, backing herself against the mirror. “I mean it. What are you doing?”

  “I’m going after what I want. And I want you.” His eyes were dead serious.

  “Bob, this is insane. We’re friends. I’m married.”

  He shook his head. “Not happily.”

  Marienne’s brow furrowed. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Daniel’s always traveling. He works long hours. You’ve been arguing.”

  “That’s called marriage.” Anger was starting to replace her shock.

  “I know what marriage is. And I know how well you and I get along. We could be great together.” He reached for her again.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “I know it’s scary.” Bob’s voice was soft, like he was crooning to Katie to get her to eat her vegetables.

  “It’s not scary, I’m not interested. I love Daniel. I thought you understood that. I thought we were friends.” I can’t believe how wrong this is all going. Thoughts of Daniel flashed through her mind.

  He was right all along.

  “We can still be friends… with benefits.”

  “No, we can’t. I get all the benefits I need from Daniel. I can’t believe you’re saying these things. I feel like I don’t even know you.”

  Bob finally took a step back. His hands shoved in his pants pockets, a look of annoyance on his face. “This can’t come as a complete shock to you. We’ve been hanging out for months. You must have felt something between us. All this time.”

  She looked straight into his crystalline eyes, clear and still like twin ponds. “Of course I felt something—friendship. I thought you were my friend. Nothing more.”

  He held her gaze, his mouth set, and then he nodded. “Okay, my mistake.” He shrugged. “I guess I misread what was going on.”

  “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression. I didn’t mean to.” Her heart pounded.

  Bob shook his head. “Just wishful thinking on my part. Let me know if you change your mind.” He turned and headed down the hall. Marienne started shaking the moment he left. Did that just happen? She could still feel his mouth on hers. She pulled her shirt up and scrubbed at her lips. Daniel was right. Oh God, Daniel. Marienne reached into the stroller and rubbed Drew’s arm, feeling the need to touch something that was Daniel’s. She fumbled for her phone, dialing the house number again, her heart sinking with each ring.

  ****

  Marienne arrived home from the dance studio flustered and distraught.

  I can’t believe how stupid I am. How could I not have seen what Bob was up to?

  The more times she played over their time together the dumber she felt. All the afternoons he’d spent hanging out at her house. All the reassuring arms around her shoulders. The hugs. The heartfelt chats. All of it was a set up. He was trying to lure her away from Daniel. The thought turned her stomach. And Daniel saw it all along. No wonder he had so much animosity toward Bob. She checked her answering machine but there were no messages. She wanted to hear Daniel’s voice. She had to tell him how sorry she was, about everything.

  She made the kids peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and let them eat picnic style on her bedroom floor while they watched Shrek on the DVD player. “I’m just going to take a quick shower. If the phone rings please look and see if it’s Daddy’s number and answer if it is, okay?”

  Ella nodded. Marienne turned the shower on full blast, anxious to wash Bob’s touch off her body. No sooner did she step under the hot spray of water than the phone rang. “Ella, is it Daddy’s name?” She leaned her head out of the shower curtain, hopeful for a yes.

  “I don’t think so. It says cell phone 603-555-1234.”

  That’s Roger’s number. “Answer it please. That’s Mr. Cromwell.”

  “Hello? Just a minute, she’s in the shower.”

  Marienne reached her wet hand out and took the phone from Ella as she struggled to turn the water off.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted your shower.”

  “Don’t be silly, it’s no problem.” She tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she wrapped a towel around herself.

  “I just wanted to see if it would be all right if I dropped something by your house. I’m heading back to Boston one last time and I had something I wanted to leave for Daniel. I won’t stay but a minute.”

  “You can stay as long as you’d like. I’m afraid Daniel is in California for the weekend, but the kids and I would love to see you. Can you come for dinner?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Ella chatted nonstop while she slurped her spaghetti, and Drew laughed every time she sucked a long noodle into her mouth. He tried to mimic her, succeeding in getting tomato sauce all over his pudgy round cheeks. Roger seemed to delight in all their antics, his eyes glowing as he watched them.

  After a leisurely meal and a tearful goodbye Roger’s car crunched its way down the gravel driveway. Marienne felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she realized she might never see him again. She watched until his car drove out of sight then turned to the envelope he’d left. She wanted to open it but knew she had t
o get the kids settled first.

  Marienne ushered Drew and Ella up to a bath then tucked them into their beds. She changed out of her bath-splashed clothes and into a pair of fluffy fleece pajamas. Even the cuddly fabric made her sad. Daniel had always said it was his favorite pair. Ultra soft and touchable.

  The envelope called to her the moment she went back downstairs. She fingered it gently, debating whether or not she should open it. She picked it up and carried it to the couch. The thick yellow paper crinkled as she unwound the string tying it shut. She extracted the stack of envelopes from within.

  The handwriting was elegant, delicate swirling script. They were all postmarked 1969. The year before Daniel was born. She took a deep breath and opened the one on top of the pile.

  Dearest Roger,

  It’s past midnight and I can’t sleep. I’ve been lying here for hours trying to think about work or school, but it’s all useless, there’s only one thing I can think of—you. The summer breeze is blowing through my window, and it’s as though it’s whispering your name. I wish I was back at the park, lying on our blanket, feeling your strong arms around me, rather than alone in my bed. It seems huge and empty whenever you’re not in it. I’ve seriously considered sleeping on the couch, but I’m afraid my roommate will think I’ve gone mad. I know you’ll be back soon, but time without you has a way of seeming eternal. I’m going to force myself to close my eyes now. With any luck you’ll be with me in my dreams….

  All my love,

  E

  There was a sketch at the bottom of the page. Curtains blowing back from a full-length window. The window in her apartment? In her bedroom? Marienne knew what it was like to lie alone in a bed missing the man you were meant to be with. She reached for the next envelope.

  By the time she’d finished reading them all she was in tears. There was no question that Elizabeth had loved Roger, very much. Their courtship and romance was real, and tragic. Marienne’s heart ached, for Elizabeth, for Roger and for Daniel. He’d had parents who adored each other yet he’d never known, had never gotten to share in that love. She wondered if he’d even agree to read the letters.

  The phone rang and Marienne answered, still wiping her eyes. “Hello?”

  “Is this Marienne Gardner?”

  Marienne’s heart quickened, her body tense. “Yes.”

  “This is Nancy Baker, I’m a nurse at Mass General. Are you related to a Mr. Roger Cromwell?”

  Oh God. “Yes, he’s my father-in-law. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m afraid he’s suffered a head injury. It appears he fell down a flight of stairs, and he’s been unconscious since he was found. We found your contact information on him. Is there other family that should be notified?”

  “No. We’re his only relatives, at least in the US. Is he all right?”

  “He’ll be heading into surgery shortly. There’s fluid building on his brain, and they need to relieve the pressure.”

  “Oh my God.” Marienne’s mind raced. I have to tell Daniel.

  “We’ll know more after the procedure is completed. Is this the number where you can be reached?”

  “Yes, but can you tell me anything else? How serious is this?” Please let him be okay.

  “It all depends on how the surgery goes. They need to get the swelling down. He’s in critical condition.”

  Marienne jotted down the name of the doctors in charge and the address and phone number of the hospital. Her stomach knotted as she picked up the phone to call Daniel. They still hadn’t talked since he left and now she had to tell him this.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Daniel made it through his day of meetings and headed back to the hotel for the last one—dinner with the producers. The message had said to meet them at the bar on the pool deck. He walked into the hotel lobby and was about to stop to check for messages when he saw Justine walking toward him. She was wearing all black including a pair of ray ban sunglasses, odd for indoors at night. What is she up to now? He wondered if she was drunk. There was an unusual stiffness to her gait.

  “There you are,” she said, but her voice lacked its standard sassiness.

  “Here I am. Why aren’t you at the bar? Aren’t you joining us for dinner?”

  “No, I won’t be. That’s why I wanted to catch you before you headed over. I’m….” She paused, glancing in the direction of the bar. She seemed nervous. “I’m going out of town for a bit. I’m catching a flight to Tahoe. I need a break.”

  “Byron’s not going with you?”

  “No.” The word came out very loud. She lowered her voice. “I’m going alone. I just wanted to say goodbye to you and tell you to keep your eye on Byron. Don’t let him turn your project into something you don’t like. Stick closer to Larry. You can trust him.”

  Daniel didn’t understand what she was saying or why she kept glancing toward the bar. “What do you mean keep my eye on him? And why are you so jumpy. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine. Look I’m going to tell the desk to call my car service. I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour so my driver did another run. I really just want to get out of here.” She brushed past him toward the desk and he caught her arm, to hold her back. She winced the second he touched her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She pulled away and rubbed her arm, still grimacing. “I tripped on the stairs the other day. I’m just a little bruised.”

  Tripped on the stairs. Justine was as graceful as a cat. None of this was making sense. “Take off your glasses.” He wanted to look at her eyes to see if she was lying.

  “No, I have to get my car.”

  “Justine. What’s going on?”

  She took a deep breath and another glance at the bar, and then she turned toward Daniel and lowered her glasses. Her left eye was swollen, purple bruises showing through under heavy makeup. Her lips were tightly pursed.

  Daniel felt a rush of anger. “Who did that to you?”

  Justine blew out a slow breath as she placed the glasses back on her face. “Byron.”

  Daniel strode straight out the door to the bar. He could hear Justine following him, her heels clicking on the tile lobby floor, saying, “Daniel, wait.” He couldn’t stop. He saw Byron standing next to a table at the edge of the building, a drink waving around in his hand. All the rage he’d been feeling toward Bob, toward his father, and now toward Byron, surged through him. He moved swiftly and slammed Byron hard against the wall. The drink flew out of his hand. Daniel heard a faint shriek from Justine and wondered if that was the sound she’d made when Byron had hit her. He pulled back and punched Byron as hard as he could.

  “You’re fucking crazy,” Byron sputtered. “I’m calling the cops.”

  Daniel was about to speak but Justine interrupted him. “Go right ahead, asshole. Call them. While you’re whining about this, I’ll have a chat with them about how you treat women.”

  Justine linked her arm through Daniel’s, tugging at him. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Daniel pulled away and approached Byron again. “Don’t you ever, ever lay a hand on her again.”

  Justine took his hand and tugged harder. “Let’s go.”

  He followed her this time, vaguely aware that Larry and several others were gaping at the scene.

  Justine ushered him into the lobby. She lifted his right hand and looked at it. His knuckles were cracked and bleeding and already swollen. “Jesus, Daniel. I had no idea you knew how to throw a punch.”

  “Neither did I.” He flexed his fingers, cringing as the pain shot through them. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, and he was beginning to realize what had just happened. “Are you okay?”

  Justine laughed. “I’m fine, except that I smell like a wino.”

  Daniel narrowed his eyes.

  “Byron’s scotch splashed all over me when you sent his drink flying. A very nice move, I might add, that’s probably $150 worth of scotch you made him spill.”

  “I’m sorry,�
� Daniel said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It was well worth getting wet to see the look on his face when you hit him. I still can’t believe you did that. Thank you.”

  Daniel didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe he’d done it either.

  Justine looked at his hand again. “You should ice that. And I should go. I’m going to tell them to call for my car.”

  “You can’t leave all wet. Come up to my room and change. You can call the front desk from there and they’ll ring the room when your car arrives.” He winced as he rubbed his hand.

  “Okay, let me just get my bag so I can have some dry clothes.”

  Justine went into Daniel’s bathroom to change while Daniel called down to the front desk. They said the car should be there within fifteen minutes. Daniel grabbed the ice bucket off the dresser and paused in front of the bathroom door. “I’m going down the hall to get some ice, I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” Justine’s voice was muffled.

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Go get your ice.”

  The ice machine was broken so he had to go to another floor. His hand was swollen and starting to bruise. He rested it against the ice as he made his way back to his room.

  Justine was on the phone. “Yes, of course. He just walked in.” She held the phone out toward him, a concerned look on her face. “It’s for you, it’s Marienne.”

  “Oh God.” He nearly dropped the ice bucket. Just when they were starting to make up, she calls and finds Justine in his hotel room, again.

  Fuck.

  “It’s okay,” Justine said, making no attempt to cover the phone. “I explained everything to her, but you really need to talk to her.”

  Daniel grabbed the phone. “This is not how it looks.” He blurted the words out before he could stop himself.

  “I know.” Marienne’s voice was steady, not at all angry. “Justine told me what happened. Are you okay? She said you hurt your hand.”

  “I’m fine.” He breathed a sigh of relief. The sound of her voice washed over him. “I just miss you.”