Hold Fast 'Til the Dawn

by Mary Haskell

  Jenny stared through the magnifying glass, trying to read the tiny print of the bibliography in the textbook she was using. Her eyes ached from the strain, but she couldn't stop. The agreed-upon eight-hour day was fast becoming a myth. She worked ten or eleven hours, pausing only to make meals, throw beds together, talk briefly to the kids. Their tightly knit family was unraveling. Rick and Christy were clearly confused by the discordant vibrations permeating the house. Jenny ached for them almost as much as she ached for herself.

  She glanced at the clock. Four-thirty. She wondered if, once again, Larry would cal to announce that

  "something had come up" and he had to stay at the office for the evening.

  He was setting an al -time record for zealous work habits. "But then," she announced to herself, "so am I." At this rate, Hal's book might be done in four months instead of eight. She put down the magnifying glass and closed the book.

  She was working in her office at home, and she decided (hat fresh air might offer some respite. Stepping into the glittering, sunlit afternoon, she drew a deep breath and then seated herself on the rock ledge that surrounded their patio. She gazed around the lovely grounds, let her eyes rest on the graceful gazebo, stil awaiting its grape arbor, then sighted the bobbing black poodle racing in her direction.

  Dmitri leapt into her open arms, wiggling and licking her chin. She held him tightly, rubbing her cheek against his soft fur. He seemed to be the only family member left that she could count on for love and devotion. What had happened to them, al of them? She was a walking wreck; her exuberant children had become quiet and withdrawn; Larry stayed away as much as he could physical y, then stayed away emotional y even when his body was there.

  She loosened her hold on the dog, letting him sit on her lap while she stroked his head. Since that awful phone cal from Ky almost two weeks before, they had been excessively polite to each other, but neither of them seemed able to find words for real communication. Was it her fault? Had she blown the whole thing out of proportion as Larry claimed, making him defensive about simply wanting to help someone he had once hurt?

  She had lost touch with her instincts; she no longer knew what to believe. The phone rang. She put Dmitri down and ran inside.

  "Hel o."

  "Hi, honey."

  "Oh, Larry, hel o."

  "How are you doing?"

  "Okay. Working. How about you?"

  "The same."

  Jenny waited for the expected message that he would be late, but instead there was just an uneasy silence.

  "Larry, did you cal about something special?"

  "Not real y, I just wanted to talk to you."

  "Oh!" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. He used to cal practical y every day, just to chat for a few minutes, or pass on a bit of news, or tel her he loved her. But those cal s had ceased when...

  "Jen?"

  "Yes."

  "I wondered if we could go out to dinner tonight. I think we should talk."

  Her heart popped into her throat. She felt terror, anticipation, hope, and dismay, al in one instant. "Al right, sure. What time wil you be home?"

  "Why don't I pick you up at six-thirty. I'll get a reservation at the Grenadier."

  "That'll be fine. I'll see you then."

  "Good. Bye now."

  "Good-bye." What did he want to talk about? Ky was coming back to Boston in two days. Was this conversation going to be about that? Stop, stop, stop, she ordered herself. Wait and see. She forced the rigid controls more rigidly into control.

  The restaurant had soft candlelight, white linen tablecloths, and single roses in bud vases on each table. Jenny and Larry faced each other across the flickering light, stil as tongue-tied as they had been from the moment he arrived at the house. Final y, after placing their order for a bottle of Chardonnay, he looked straight into her eyes. "Jenny, this is a very difficult subject to get into."

  "Yes, I know."

  "I never expected..." He cleared his throat. "I had no way of knowing that seeing Ky would hit me as hard as it did."

  Jenny took a deep swal ow of water and' returned the steady gaze. "Larry, do you stil love her?"

  "I don't know."

  She put down the water goblet, holding the slim stem for support. Was this macabre scene real? He didn't know if he stil loved her. Where did that leave Jenny? "Where does that leave me?"

  "Right where you are, of course. I have no intention of severing our marriage, Jen."

  She blinked. "What does that mean, Larry? What is my part in al of this—to stand back silently and wait for you to make up your mind which one of us you want? Or do you figure on having both?"

  "Jenny, I'm not sure what I'm asking, except that you give me some time to work it out. I can't just turn my back on her again. I have to at least resolve things between us."

  She felt the room closing in. "Resolve things? What things? What kind of expectations does she have?"

  The waiter appeared with the wine, displayed the label, uncorked the bottle, and handed the cork to Larry to sniff. He did so slowly, with deliberation. Jenny almost screamed. Final y he nodded, and the two glasses were fil ed. "Would you like to order now?" Why wouldn't the man go away and leave them alone?

  "We haven't looked at the menu yet."

  The waiter nodded at Larry and left.

  "Do you know what you want?" Larry's troubled blue eyes frowned across at her.

  "My husband, my family, my home. Unscarred and unviolated."

  "Jenny." He rubbed his hand across his forehead. "I have not been unfaithful to you."

  "Should that sentence end with a period or a yet?"

  He reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes. Jenny watched in horrified amazement as he lit one, shook out the match, and placed the pack by his fork.

  "When did you start to smoke again?"

  His eyes leapt to hers, aware of his indiscretion. "Oh... about a week or so ago."

  Jenny's chin dropped to her chest. "Damn." The connection was immediately clear.

  "Jen..."

  "Have you decided yet?" The stupid waiter was once again standing by the table, his plastic smile in place.

  Larry picked up the menu. "Jennifer?"

  "I don't care. You order."

  He ordered two club steaks, medium rare, without opening the menu.

  "Potatoes or rice?" The waiter was relentless. Larry finished off the order and nervously shifted his utensils around.

  Jenny gulped hard and looked at her husband, attempting to hold her voice steady. "Larry, I've been trying to give you time. You've told me over and over that there was nothing to worry about, which was pretty clearly a lie. Would I be violating any of the unwritten rules of this weird game if I ventured to ask how many other lies we're dealing with?"

  "This was stupid, wasn't it. We can't real y discuss this."

  "Are you promising me that you're going to end the relationship once and for al , or are you asking me to hang around until you decide which one of us you want? I know I asked that before, but I don't think I got an answer."

  "Here we are. House dressing on both, right?" The Smiling-Jack waiter placed the salads before them with a flourish. "And some hot rol s. Anything else I can do for you?"

  Get lost, Jenny thought.

  "No thank you, that's fine," Larry assured him. He kept his eyes glued on his plate, his mind whipping around, searching desperately for an answer that would have some degree of acceptability. He looked at Jenny, unable to ignore the signs of bewilderment and betrayal etched on her face. He was such a mess inside. She had a right to push him for a decision. So why did he want to yel "Don't rain on my parade!" at her, to put her neatly aside until he worked out the relationship with Ky?

  In other words, his persistently truthful mind informed him, he wanted just what she was suggesting—that she stand silently by while he had a blazing, ful -out, hot and heavy love affair with another woman. Oh Lord.

  "Jenny. I'm so fouled up.
I can't possibly express how sorry I am for hurting you. I can't possibly express how sorry I am that this al started in the first place. The problem is, I also can't real y promise you anything because I don't seem to have control over my own actions right now." He stared at her miserably. "That's the problem with honesty."

  Jenny had made the mistake of putting a piece of lettuce into her mouth. It seemed to have grown into a ful head, threatening to choke her. She managed to chew it enough to dispose of it in four deliberate swal ows.

  When she answered, her voice was a squeak. "At least now I know where that leaves me. Nowhere."

  "Jenny, please. I won't be unfaithful to you." He caught her expression. "Al right, at least not in the physical sense. And I'm not asking you to hang on forever. But this is al so new, and I'm buried in it. Just try to give me time to dig my way out."

  The waiter reappeared to replace the ful salad plates with overloaded dinner plates. The sight of the food nauseated Jenny. "I don't feel like I have a choice. I'm sitting here, trying to picture myself going home and packing a bag and going to Mother and Dad's. I can't imagine it. I don't real y want to tel you to get out. I feel like a large, unattractive, spineless glob of Jel o."

  Larry reached over to touch her hand. She winced, and he withdrew. "Jen, you are wonderful and beautiful and have a spine made of iron. None of this is your fault."

  "Whose fault is it?"

  He shrugged helplessly. "Damned if I know. Mine, probably, for not settling this twenty years ago."

  "Larry, I'm not hungry, and I can't sit here anymore. Can we go home?"

  "Yes."

  The thunderous silence shut out al sound on the way home save the beating of her heart. It lasted through their preparations for bed, lasted as they crawled separately onto the separate sides of the mattress. She felt Larry's hand tentatively touch hers. When she didn't withdraw it, he inched next to her. They lay very stil , face to face on the pil ow. She could feel his warm breath.

  Finally he whispered, "Jenny, please, please don't leave me. I'm so damned screwed up, but I need you, Jen. I need you."

  She slid into his arms, holding tight. With a shock of anguish, she felt hot tears flow from his eyes to her cheek.

  Larry, her strong self-possessed Larry, was crying. Soon her own tears were mingling with his. Could they cry enough tears, she wondered, to fil the chasm between them? Could they swim back together through them?

  Oh, God, Jenny silently cried. Oh, God, help us.

  Larry cal ed the next day to tel her he would be home in time for dinner. He was trying. She wished he wouldn't

  try so hard; it was almost painful.

  She slid a roast into the oven. It was quick and easy, and she had lost al incentive for gourmet cooking. Ky would be in Boston tomorrow. Maybe that was why Larry was making it a point to get home; he probably wouldn't for... She didn't want to think about it.

  Rick burst into the room, panting, his face flushed from running, his dark brown hair askew. "Mom?"

  "What is it, Rick? Is anything wrong?"

  "Oh no. I just wanted to know if Dad was coming home early tonight. I have something I want to talk to both of you about."

  Jenny scrutinized his face. "You're sure nothing is wrong?"

  "No, Mom real y, nothing like that. But it doesn't make any sense to tel you until Dad is here, too."

  She went back to her dinner preparations. As long as he was al right, she'd simply wait until he was ready to talk to them. Lethargy ruled the day.

  She was surprised that Rick said nothing during dinner, waiting until the dishes were done and Christy had left to go to a movie with a friend. Jenny had warned Larry that something was up, a reflex action not yet dead.

  The moment Christy left the house Rick leapt up, his face alight with excitement. "Mom, Dad, can I talk with you now?"

  Larry grasped his arm affectionately. "You have our undivided attention."

  "Come on in and sit down, okay?" Rick led the way into the big, pine-paneled family room, gestured ceremoniously toward the somewhat beat-up sofa, waited for them to sit, then perched on the edge of an equal y beat-up ottoman. "You know you've been asking me what I want for my birthday..."

  Larry smiled. "I have a feeling we're about to be told."

  "Yeah, wel , do you remember Greg Clarkson?"

  Jenny nodded. "Of course, he's your friend at school."

  "That's right. Okay, anyway, Greg and his family spend the month of August and the first two weeks of September in Criehaven. You know, on Ragged Island in Maine?"

  Larry frowned for a second, then said, "Oh sure, right next to Matinicus."

  "That's right!" Rick's face glowed brighter, and he slid closer to the edge of the ottoman. "Wel , Greg has invited me, and you guys, to come visit them for a couple of days in the first week of September. And I was wondering if we could sail up there and visit them and do some cruising for a couple of days, just the three of us, with me helping to do a lot of the navigation. That's what I'd like more than anything. Could we? Mom?

  Dad?" His shining face turned from one to the other of them, beaming its plea.

  Jenny shivered. It would take a minimum of two weeks to sail their boat up to that part of the Maine coast, visit, and then sail back. The thought of being that closely incarcerated with Larry right now was awesome. "Rick..."

  Her tone was tentative. "Do I gather that this would not include Christy?"

  His face fel . "Wel , yeah. Mom. You know I real y like the kid, but there are times when it's nice to have you and Dad to myself."

  Larry was wearing an expression of concentration and perplexity. "Wel , Rick, I don't see how I could miss enough work right now to take our boat up there, and I honestly don't think it would be fair to Christy for us to take off for that long without her." The boy's gleam died. "However, I may have an alternative. Give me a couple of days, okay?"

  A little gleam returned. "Sure, okay."

  The short break in the stony chil over, they each went their separate ways for the rest of the evening.

  Breakfast the fol owing morning was intolerable. Both Rick and Christy kept peppering Larry with questions about Ky's arrival.

  Christy fairly bounced in her chair. "Dad, do you know yet what day I'll be invited to go to town with her?"

  "Has she told you who the mystery guest is going to be?" Rick interjected.

  "Hey, listen,"—Larry shot a worried glance at Jenny— "I don't even know just when she's arriving, so take it easy."

  Jenny's stomach rol ed over. Oh, my husband, her mind hissed, how can you stand there, looking your children straight in the eye, and tel such a lie? She hadn't the slightest doubt that he knew the exact moment the plane was due to land. When Larry turned he ran smack into her piercing gaze. "What are your plans for the evening?" she asked.

  His fingers pushed through his neatly combed hair, then moved to tug at his tie. "Uh, I don't know what Wil has in mind for dinner. He said something about getting together..."

  "What does al this have to do with you? Isn't it Wil 's account?"

  "Jenny..."

  She forced her expression back into its impassive mold. "Al right, I won't plan on you."

  Their eyes met in a brief but too-knowing glance. Larry could see the veil fal ing, closing her off from him. He grabbed his briefcase. "I'll cal you later."

  She went to the sink. "Don't bo—" Her eyes darted to the kids, stil sitting at the table, tuned in to the exchange. "Al right." Her back was now turned to him. He fled.

  Ky's plane was thirty-five minutes late. Larry paced the floor of the terminal, dimly aware of the greetings of other incoming passengers and the people meeting them. His mind was such a jungle that he was incapable of hacking his way through to his own feelings. After what seemed an eternity, Ky's slender form appeared at the exit. She saw him and waved, easing her way around the people obstructing her. Larry was conscious of the faces turning in her direction, of the quiver of excitement she caused. He was a
lso aware of the swel of pride he felt when she reached his side. Was it love, or ego?

  "Larry." She took his hand, teetering on tiptoe to give him a not quite discreet kiss. His fingers grasped hers, his mouth lowering to touch the offered lips. They tasted sweet and inviting, their teasing pressure promising erotic gifts. Larry tore himself from their softness, suddenly conscious of the stares they were attracting. He wondered if his married status showed, if anyone could tel just by looking at him that he had a wife and children and that this woman was not his legal mate.

  The wait for the luggage was long and uncomfortable. Ky chattered on about how she planned to display her clothing line in the Newbury Street store. Larry tried to concentrate on what she said, but it wasn't easy. She dropped subtle to blatant sexual innuendos into every third or fourth sentence. She kept her tone low so he had to bend close to hear her, then she would tip her face up to his, creating immediate intimacy, her savory fragrance drifting over him, enclosing him in a yesterday-today fog of desire. He was sure it was the same perfume she had worn before, in that time-frame that was beginning to seem such a short while ago. He fought desperately to retain his composure, kept reminding himself that they were in a public place. It mattered less and less with each passing moment.

  At last the luggage was gathered. Larry temporarily forgot passion as he struggled under the weight of the baggage he was carrying. The three enormous suitcases provided a sharp contrast to the carrier and one smal bag that seemed to suffice for any trip for Jenny.

  The ride to the Ritz was fil ed with inconsequential talk, a suspension of intensity. As they stepped out of the car at the door of the hotel and Larry handed his car keys and a tip to the doorman, he could feel the threat of impending privacy, a privacy that was achingly tempting and ominous at the same time.

  He stood back while Ky checked in, then fol owed her into the elevator, feeling alternately like a margin pursuit and a dog on a leash. The elevator door slid shut in front of them. "I'll see you to your room and go over the schedule with you before I leave." His remark was aimed not at Ky, but at the elevator operator and the bel hop. An uneasy potential adulterer covering his tracks.