Hold Fast 'Til the Dawn

by Mary Haskell

  Jenny couldn't stand the suspense. "What happened?"

  "She announced, with bubbling, happy, gushing joy... that she was pregnant."

  The shock hit Jenny with such force that she weaved for a second and grabbed the bureau for support. Dear Lord. How could she have been married to him for fifteen years without knowing that he had fathered someone else's child? "Then why aren't you married to her?" It was a rasping, angry question. He didn't raise his head. He just kept staring at his tightly clenched hands.

  "Because I freaked. I stammered and stuttered and backtracked. I stil remember the joy dissolving and the tears starting. She had assumed that I'd be as delighted as she was. That she would just quit school and marry me and we'd live together in Boston until I got my degree. She had it al planned, every happy little detail."

  "And you didn't want to marry her?"

  He jumped to his feet, pacing back and forth across the room. "Jen, I didn't want to marry anyone. A wife, a child, al that responsibility, just when I had discovered the joy of freedom... I felt like someone had hit me over the head with a bat."

  "She must have been so hurt."

  How could Jenny be so sympathetic, so understanding of the feelings of his ex-lover? "She was demolished. I kept asking her to just give me some time to think it through, to get used to the idea. I said something real y asinine about making an honest woman out of her."

  "Oh, Larry."

  "Oh, Larry indeed. What a jackass."

  The brown eyes turned tender. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You were so young. It must have been an awful shock."

  He walked to her and took her in his arms. "Jen," he whispered, holding her with great tenderness. "You are, in al ways, one of a kind." He looked down into her misting eyes, reading so many things there: sympathy, hurt, anger, shame for his weakness. "The worst is yet to come."

  "Go on."

  "She left that night—flew back to California without a word to anyone. I was crazy, trying to locate her; her folks were crazy, with no idea of what was happening; my folks were crazy, watching their only son unravel before their eyes with no clue to the cause. I final y got a hold of her roommate at school. She cussed at me for five minutes before she told me that Ky was in the hospital, in bad shape after an il egal abortion."

  "Oh dear heaven, Larry." Jenny tightened her arms around his heaving body. No tears, just great spasms of remembered anguish. "What did you do?"

  He pul ed away, pushing his fingers through the tousled blond hair. "I flew out. She wouldn't see me. I final y flew back to school. I cal ed and cal ed and cal ed. Then I quit cal ing. I had to buckle down to my studies—my grades were sliding right off the scale. I figured I'd give it some time, then go out and see her again. But I didn't. The truth was that I was mad as hel at her. She had done something monstrous to my baby because I couldn't jump up and down with glee the minute she hit me with the news. The more time that passed, the more my righteous indignation grew. When I could final y look back at it with some detachment, months and months later, I had to accept the fact that what I had real y wanted was out. I wanted to erase the whole damn mess from my memory. So,"—he sank to the bed once more—"it remains the worst experience of my life, the greatest failure of my character, and the most unfinished piece of business I can imagine. I never even told her I was sorry." He seemed to sink deeper into the mattress, beaten down by the story.

  Jenny stared, transfixed. When she spoke, her voice wavered. "Then you'll have to see her, won't you?"

  Their eyes locked, then Larry gave a tired nod of his head. "Yes."

  Chapter Three

  Jenny swung into her driveway, watching, somewhat startled, as the garage door opened before her. She couldn't remember having pressed the activating button. There were many things she couldn't quite remember lately. She was running on automatic. Two weeks had passed since the night on Naushon when Larry had made his devastating disclosures about Ky Kayle. Two weeks of... what?

  She parked the car in its precise position an3 touched the release, sitting immobile while the garage door descended. It was hard to define her mood during the past two weeks. She could remember scant details of the rest of their visit on Naushon. Gina had asked her once if everything were al right. She must have noticed how quiet both Larry and Jenny were.

  Jenny got out of the car and went to the back to take the grocery bags out of the trunk. She and Larry had walked on eggs around each other for the first few days. She had felt vastly relieved when he had had to postpone his short trip to Cleveland in order to go to Australia for ten days to consult with a client about setting up a new computer system. He was due home tonight, and for the first time ever, Jenny was apprehensive about his return.

  She hoisted the bags into her arms and slammed down the trunk lid with her elbow. As she maneuvered her way through two doors into the kitchen she grimaced at the mental image of herself, staggering under three heavy bags, finding doorknobs by Brail e. If Larry had just a briefcase and a suitcase to manage, there was no way he could make it through a door unassisted. The weaker sex, indeed, she mused.

  "Hey, Mom!" Rick bounded into the room, clad in a bright green warm-up suit, his feet moving constantly in a boxer's dance step. "How come you didn't yel ! I'd have brought the groceries in."

  Jenny smiled at him. Rick was just like her: serious and responsible and always concerned, sometimes to a fault, about others. He even looked like a young male version of herself. "Because, my handsome young son, I didn't know you were home."

  "Oh." He jigged a tight circle around her, making little jabbing feints in her direction. Jenny was so used to it she hardly noticed. "Hey, Mom, could you do me a favor and not say corny things like that in front of my friends?"

  "Corny things like what, Rick?"

  "Like 'my handsome young son.' It's embarrassing." One of his bouncing feet caught the edge of a chair, sending it flying over with a loud crash. He stopped moving long enough to right it, then resumed the joggle.

  Flying furniture was also pretty routine.

  "Tel you what," Jenny said as she began putting away the groceries. "I'll make you a deal. I'll agree to watch my tongue if you'll agree to watch your feet. For the next year at least, I'd appreciate your traveling through the house with extreme caution."

  Rick tried to stop the motion, but his body twitched from the unendurable strain of being held in one position.

  "But how do you expect me to keep in shape if I stand stil al the time? If I'm going to be top honcho on the track team I've gotta be something fast—faster than the speed of light." He made a quick sweeping arc with his arm, barely missing the carton of milk on the counter.

  "Rick! Watch it!" Jenny stuck the carton into the refrigerator, out of danger. "Who would have believed that my son would be quoting from Superman? Just out of the goodness of my heart, to insure that your muscles wil not atrophy, I wil al ow you to go out and mow the lawn. You may do it at a jog—I don't mind. Then you can trim the borders and weed the perennial bed. That exercises the legs, the shoulders, the back, and the arms.

  Also the hands. It'll do wonders for your hockey grip this winter."

  "Ah, Mom!"

  "Go on, Rick. It's your job anyway, and your father is coming home tonight. He'll be pleased if the place is neat."

  "Oh, that's right, Dad's coming home. Maybe now you'll cheer up."

  Jenny stopped and faced him. "What do you mean?"

  "Christy was wondering why you were so gloomy lately. I tried to explain to her why it was hard for you to have Dad gone so long, but she's just a kid. She doesn't understand sex."

  "Rick!" Jenny could feel the blood flooding her face. "That's outrageous!"

  "Not real y, Mom." Rick grabbed an apple off the counter as he dashed out the door. "She's only twelve; she'll have a better grip on the facts of life in a year or two." He was gone, leaving a thoroughly startled Jenny.

  Larry was right. There were obviously not many off- limit subjects to her children
. Had she been gloomy? She supposed there was some truth in the observation. And why not? She glanced up at the large calendar on the kitchen wal . July ninth. So much summer stil left.

  Summers were usual y pure joy to Jenny. She not only adored the sailing, she looked forward al winter to planting their enormous, highly prolific vegetable garden that kept them in frozen vegetables al winter. She and Larry both loved gardening. He couldn't spend as much time at it as she did, but they shared an enthusiasm for toiling in the sun, planting and pruning, and watching the visible signs of their labor.

  And Jenny, unlike many mothers, also looked forward to having her children around more often. They had each gone to summer camp once, then decided, much to the satisfaction of their father and mother, that they preferred sailing with their parents, tennis and swimming with their friends at the club, even, wonder of wonders, helping in the garden.

  Rick especial y loved working in the soil. He had saved enough out of his lawn-mowing jobs to buy his own Japanese threadleaf maple tree, which was planted on a rise at the edge of their backyard. He insisted it was just the start of "Rick's Oriental garden." Darn. Her mind stopped dead at the word Oriental.

  But remembering Larry's imminent return, she hastened her chores. She was planning a lovely dinner of Chinese chicken with walnuts—one of Larry's favorites. She kicked a cupboard door shut. Can't seem to get yourself out of the Orient today, Jennifer, her irritable mind chided. "Let's face it," she mumbled under her breath, "I don't give two hoots if she's Oriental. It's the 'exotical y beautiful' part that bugs me."

  Soon after Rick loped out, Christy dashed in. Beautiful Christy, her father's daughter to the core. Like a glint of sunlight—golden-blond, blue-eyed, lithe, and appealing. It made Jenny nervous to see how many heads already turned when her oh-so-young daughter darted by.

  Christy threw her arms around Jenny, giving her mother her usual great big I'm-home hug and kiss. Jenny's quiet, reserved nature had never curbed Christy's exuberance one bit, a fact that warmed her mother's heart.

  Nothing could hinder her enjoyment of the lavish affection she received from her children.

  "Mom, Mom, guess what, guess what!"

  "Christy, Christy, what, what?" Jenny grinned at the wiggly girl. She was such a delight.

  "Because I won the tennis finals in my class, and because I play so much better than anyone else my age, I get to go on and compete with the finalists in the teen league!"

  "Wow!" Jenny gave the shiny-eyed girl a pantomime of applause. "That's pretty impressive. They've never done that before, have they?"

  "Nope. But Dave says I'm a real hotshot on the court." False modesty was not one of Christy's problems. But then, neither was she guilty of egotism. Dave was the club pro.

  Jenny warded off Christy's grab for the cookie bag and handed her an apple. "Do you want to do it? It sounds like quite a commitment."

  "Oh sure. It'll be a blast. And just think what a blast it would be if I could beat the pants off that snooty Paula James!"

  "Christy, watch the mouth."

  "Yeah, Mom. Uh-oh, I forgot Dmitri."

  There was frantic scratching at the back door. Christy threw it open, and their miniature black poodle dashed in, raced ful tilt around the kitchen four times, then leapt up and down in front of Jenny until she acknowledged his presence with a laughing, "Dmitri, down!" He instantly sat, his little body wriggling with excitement. Jenny squatted down and fondled his silky ears. Dmitri cocked his head and gave her hand a few licks of affection, his black eyes sparkling his pleasure. Jenny loved the funny little dog. Loving him was so easy; he accepted her exactly as she was and loved her back, unconditional y.

  Christy reached into the cupboard and grabbed a handful of dog biscuits. "Dmitri, guess what! Daddy's coming home!" The dog dutiful y sat up and begged for the treats. Jenny could hardly wait to see the greeting when Larry walked in. It was always a sight to behold. The poodle would circle him with three-foot leaps, wiggling in midair. Larry had often observed that it was impossible to stay downhearted, no matter how tiring the day had been, after being greeted by Dmitri.

  "Come on, boy, we have to go up and do our homework!" Christy was being tutored in math—her one difficult subject—for the summer. Jenny watched, entranced, as the two wiggly creatures dashed through the door and up the stairs.

  Before she knew it, it was six-thirty. The table was set and dinner ready. Larry should be arriving any minute.

  He had cal ed from the airport to let her know he was safely on the ground. Jenny felt a flutter of excited anticipation when she recal ed his cheery tone on the telephone. "Gosh it's good to hear your voice. I can hardly wait to see you and the kids." He'd sounded just like he always did after a long trip—eager to be home, eager to be with her. Maybe al her uneasiness would turn out to be sil y. She would try to forget, at least temporarily, that Ky was due next week.

  When Larry did walk in the door, Jenny had to wait her turn to greet him, crowded out by the bouncing dog, the bouncing daughter, and the offhand, big-man hug of the son. Larry left his luggage by the door and crossed to her, taking her in his arms. "Oh you feel good, and you look wonderful." He kissed her tenderly.

  "How is everything?"

  Jenny returned his hug, clinging a touch longer than usual. She studied his glowing face, pleased at the absence of shadows. He seemed relaxed and cheerful.

  She smiled at him. "Everything's fine. And you look healthy and rested. It must have been a good trip."

  "I feel great. That layover in Hawaii sure saves my bacon." He sniffed the air. "What's that I smel ? Could it be that delicious thing you make with chicken and nuts?"

  "It is indeed. Why don't you go up and change while I open the wine. I got a bottle of that Mondavi Chardonnay you like so much."

  He gave her another quick kiss. "Sounds wonderful. I'll be right down, although I would like to take a shower."

  "Take your time."

  Rick had already lifted the suitcase and garment bag and was wrestling into position to pick up the briefcase.

  "I'll bring up your stuff, Dad."

  "Come on, Rick, let me take something." Christy grabbed the briefcase. "Daddy, did you see any kangaroos this time?"

  "As a matter of fact, I did. But cool down. I'll tel you about it at dinner. I'm sure your mother wil want to hear about it, too." He winked at her and scooped up the little dog, who was sitting on Larry's foot in his anxiety to be included. "Come along, you sil y hound. Just look at you. What grown man in his right mind could take a dog like you seriously?"

  Jenny watched the happy troupe go up the stairs—another nice familiar ritual in ful swing. Dmitri snuggled in Larry's arms, happily licking his face, paying no attention to the teasing jibes about his size and lack of true doggly stature. Rick and Christy trailed behind, firing questions a mile a minute. For the first time in two weeks Jenny felt herself relax. How could anyone shake this family? It was too solid to be vulnerable. Without questioning that premise further, she took the wine out of the refrigerator.

  The dinner was wonderful: delicious, elegant, punctuated with animated conversation. Jenny had gone al -out to please her husband, not even trying to kid herself about her motives. The table was set with white linen, fresh flowers, and their fine china and silver. She knew Larry would appreciate the touch of graciousness.

  Their schedules were far too hectic for this to be a regular occurrence, but it was lovely once in a while.

  "And for dessert," she announced, "frozen lemon pie!"

  "My word, Jen,"—Larry beamed—"I think I'll plan seven more trips in a row. This is a fantastic return treat."

  After dessert, she smiled indulgently at him. Larry was listing to one side. "Honey, why don't you go up and get ready for bed? You've held up admirably. The kids and I wil clean up, then come kiss you good night. What time are you on? Australia stil confuses me."

  Larry stood, rubbing his eyes. "At the moment I can't remember whether it's tomorrow or yesterday.
" He grinned at her. "Either way, you're right. I'm beat."

  The shril ring of the phone made both of them jump. Always hopeful it would be for her, Christy ran to the kitchen to get it. "Hi, Grandma!" The delighted greeting sent Larry toward the other phone in the den.

  Jenny cleared the table, hearing snatches of Christy's responses and questions. She could always tel which grandmother it was, because as a child Christy had garbled Jenny's mother's name, which was Agatha, into

  "Gatta," which had stuck like glue.

  "Mom,"—Christy held out the receiver—"Grandma wants to talk to you."

  Jenny took the phone wil ingly. She didn't have even a passing familiarity with the infamous problem of troublesome in-laws. There was genuine affection between her and Larry's parents. "Anna, hi. What a nice surprise."

  "How are you, Jennifer? It seems an age since we last talked."

  "I'm just fine—my usual healthy self."

  "Good. Larry, are you stil there?"

  "Sure am, Mom. What's up?"

  "This is a last-minute thing, so please feel free to tel me if you're busy or simply don't want to be bothered.

  You remember our friends the Brewsters?"

  "Yep."

  "Wel , Ann Brewster cal ed this afternoon to see if there was any chance that Ed and I could fly up to join in a surprise party for Joe. Tomorrow night, no less. Of course we said yes. How could we miss the satisfaction of seeing someone else hit sixty-five?"

  Jenny smiled sympathetical y, remembering last year's trauma when Anna had passed that milestone.

  "Anyway, we wondered if we could spend Sunday with you and take the late flight back to Florida in the evening."

  "Of course!" Larry and Jenny said in unison.

  "Do you have to go back so soon?" Jenny asked. "Couldn't you stay a few days?"

  "No, dear. You know your father-in-law. He has a golf game scheduled for Monday morning, and heaven forbid he should have to cancel it. Besides, I have a raft of orders waiting to be assembled." Anna, in the two years since they had "retired" to Florida, had started what had become a thriving needlework shop.