At a little past eleven-thirty, Emily fiddled with the stack of birthday cards in her lap as Mark drove in the light Sunday traffic toward Margaret and Robert MacAllister’s house.
“I’m a wreck,” she said.
“It shows,” Mark said, glancing over at her. “You’re going to rub holes in those envelopes if you don’t leave them alone. What’s in the big container you put on the back seat?”
“A salad for the party,” Emily said. “Even if this meeting with Trevor is a disaster and we leave, I wanted to bring what I said I would for the potluck because they’re counting on it as part of the meal.”
“You always put other people’s needs first,” Mark said, shaking his head.
“Are you saying that’s wrong?” Emily said, a slight edge to her voice.
“Just making an observation. It’s definitely a debatable subject, but this is not the day to get into it. Emily, quit messing around with those poor beat-up cards.”
“Oh.” She plunked the cards next to her on the seat. “I was going round and round about how to sign those dumb things. I’m so mentally worn out that I just gave up and put all three of our names on them.”
“As though we’re a family. Emily, Mark and Trevor.”
“Oh, Mark, don’t. I’m hanging on by a thread here. I’m so frightened, so scared to death that I’ve destroyed the loving relationship I have with Trevor. I’ll do anything to make things right between us again.”
“Mmmm,” Mark said, narrowing his eyes.
He pulled into the driveway at the senior MacAllisters’, then turned off the ignition. Emily didn’t move, just sat staring at the house, her hands clutched tightly in her lap.
He wanted to gather her into his arms, Mark thought, comfort her, tell her that he was there with her and she wasn’t alone. Tell her that everything was going to be just fine. Tell her over and over how much he loved her, would always love her.
But he couldn’t do any of those things.
Emily was back to where she had been before the night they’d just shared of incredibly beautiful lovemaking. The night of the dream. She was centered on Trevor, with no room for anyone else.
“Well, here goes,” Emily said, her voice not quite steady as she opened the door to the vehicle.
Margaret and Robert greeted them at the door, saying Trevor was in Robert’s study and knew they were coming to talk to him.
“How is he this morning, Grandma?” Emily said, giving her the salad and birthday cards.
“Well, dear,” Margaret said, “Trevor is… I wish I could say that he… But the fact is…”
“He’s mad as hell,” Robert said. “He’s hurt, confused and hates the world in general. You two have your work cut out for you. Go on in there. I’m sure he knows you’ve arrived.”
“Bless you both,” Margaret said.
“Thank you for everything,” Emily said, then drew a deep breath, letting it out in several shaky little puffs of air.
Emily and Mark walked through the house toward Robert’s study, Mark finally shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from pulling Emily close to his side.
At the closed door to the study, Emily knocked, waited, heard no reply, then opened the door and entered the cozy room with Mark behind her.
Mark shut the door, then they looked at Trevor, who was slouched low in one of the high-backed leather chairs by the fireplace, his arms folded tightly over his chest and a stormy expression on his pale face.
His hair was damp from a shower, the cowlick curly on the crown of his head. He was dressed in baggy shorts and a faded T-shirt, chosen from a stash of clothes he kept at his great-grandparents’. His feet were bare.
Emily sat down on a footstool directly in front of Trevor and Mark settled in the other leather chair behind her. Trevor shifted his gaze to his bony knees.
“Trevor? Honey? Mark and I would like to talk to you.” Emily hesitated, then continued when Trevor didn’t reply. “Oh, Trevor, I’m so sorry I hurt you. That was never my intention, believe me. I want to explain why I made the decisions I did. Will you listen to me? Please?”
Trevor lifted one shoulder in a shrug, still refusing to look at his mother.
“When…when I discovered I was pregnant with you,” Emily said, her voice trembling slightly, “Mark had already left for Boston to start college with the scholarship he’d received.
“I loved him so much, so very much, that I didn’t tell him about you. If I had, he would have come right back to Ventura to be with us, giving up all his hopes and dreams. I couldn’t destroy all he’d worked for, Trevor, I just couldn’t. Love is a very powerful emotion, and it gave me the strength and courage to do what I felt was best. I told Mark that I no longer loved him.”
“You lied to him,” Trevor said, meeting Emily’s gaze. “And then you lied to me. You lied and lied.”
“Yes, I did,” Emily said, lifting her chin. “They were lies born of love, but that doesn’t make them right. I was wrong, Trevor, and now I’m paying the price for the mistakes I made.”
“Why did you tell me my father was dead?”
“Oh, honey. Time went by and there never seemed to be a proper time to tell Mark he had a son. He believed that I didn’t love him and was dedicating himself to his career, making a name for himself in his field. You and I were a team, doing so well, making it all work for us that I…I just left things as they were.
“You seemed to accept my lie with no question, and we continued on with our lives. Until Mark returned to Ventura I had no idea that you had yearned for a father all these years, honey. I didn’t know, and I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, right,” Trevor said, staring at his knees again, his arms still folded tightly over his chest.
“Mark knew you were his son,” Emily went on, “the minute he saw you. You look just like he did at the same age. He was very angry at me, Trevor, for keeping you from him. I finally told Mark the truth, said that I had loved him so much back then that I had made the decision to remain silent about you so he could achieve his dreams.”
“Mmm,” Trevor said.
“Mark wanted to tell you immediately that he was your father, but I convinced him it would be better to establish a relationship with you first. Oh, sweetheart, Mark wasn’t…wasn’t sizing you up to see if you qualified, or something, to be his son. He wants to be your father. He loves you, just as I do.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Trevor, listen to me, please,” Emily said, feeling the aching sensation of threatening tears in her throat. “You must remember that I was only a few years older than you are now when I made the choices I did. I was so young, didn’t have the wisdom that comes with growing, maturing.
“Lies are wrong. I was wrong. I should have done things differently, been honest, forthcoming with the truth, just as I’ve taught you to be. I’m…I’m begging you to forgive me for making the choices I did, for hurting you so much. Please, Trevor.”
“I lied to you once last year, remember?” Trevor said. “I said I’d done my math homework and I hadn’t. You caught me because you asked to see it before I put it in my backpack.
“You took my bike away from me for a whole week, because I’d lied to you. I said I was sorry, but you didn’t care about that. You still wouldn’t let me ride my bike.
“You told me never to lie to you again and I haven’t, not once. But you’ve been lying to me my whole life long, and I really hate you for that. I hate you.”
“That’s enough, Trevor,” Mark said. “I’m not going to sit silently by and allow you to speak to your mother like that. She’s talking to you from her heart, and you should respect that, respect her for admitting she was wrong, even though at the time that she lied she believed it was the best thing to do.”
“Why do you care if I respect my mom, or hate my mom, or whatever, Mark?” Trevor said, volume on high. “She lied to you, too.”
“And I now understand why she did it.” Mark said quietly. “I’m not ce
rtain I deserved that kind of love back then, but your mother gave it to me anyway.”
“So you’re just going to blow it off?” Trevor yelled. “Say, hey, no problem, Emily, I forgive you for lying to me for a zillion years?”
“It’s not a matter of forgiving, Trevor,” Mark said, looking directly at his son. “It’s accepting the truth that what your mother did was out of the deepest love imaginable. Love for me. Love for you.”
“Yeah, right,” Trevor said yet again.
“And knock off the ‘yeah, right’ junk,” Mark said. “We’ve heard enough of that one.”
“Trevor,” Emily said, “tell me what you want me to do to set things to rights. I want us to be what we were, the team, the loving mother and son. I’ll do anything to repair the damage I’ve done.”
A flicker of interest crossed Trevor’s face. “Really? What if I said I might go live with Mark since he’s going to stay in Ventura?”
A cold chill swept through Emily and tears stung at the back of her eyes.
“Then that’s what you’ll do,” she said, hearing the echo of those tears in her voice, “if it will make you smile, be happy again.”
“I might decide to spend some weekends with you. Maybe. I’ll have to think about that. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll live here with my great-grandparents. They’re cool. And they never lie to me about anything. Or maybe I’ll bunk in with Aunt Jessica and Uncle Daniel. No, he’s a cop. He probably has a whole bunch of rules, even more than you do, Mom. I’ll let you know what I decide.”
Emily straightened on the footstool and stared at Trevor, her mind racing.
Her son, the con artist, was pushing the envelope, she thought. She was like a marionette who had handed over the strings to control her to an immature I’m-almost-thirteen-years-old child, and he was jerking her around emotionally and enjoying every minute of it.
You always put other people’s needs first.
The words Mark had spoken to her during the drive over here suddenly screamed for attention in her mind. And they were true, sadly so. Well, not this time. She…was…woman. She had struggled to gain confidence in herself and, by golly, she had it, in spades.
“Fine,” she said, getting to her feet. “Keep me posted, let me know where you finally decide to hang your hat in case you get any mail I should forward to you.”
“Huh?” Trevor said, his head snapping up to look at her with wide eyes.
“Oh, by the way, Trevor,” Emily went on, “there’s something you should know. Not only did I love Mark way back when, but I love him now, too. Oh, yes, I love him and he loves me.
“And guess what? I plan to accept Mark’s proposal of marriage. Yep, I am. I am going, for what might be the first time in my life, to put my wants, needs, hopes and dreams on the top of the list. It’s my turn, Trevor, and I’m going to grab hold of the happiness I can have with Mark and never let go.”
A grin broke across Mark’s face and a warmth suffused him as he listened to the wondrous words and watched Emily’s magnificent performance.
“You’re going to marry Mark? You’re going to have a gushy, mushy wedding and everything? You’re going to live in the same house together? But what about me?”
“We certainly hope you’ll drop by as often as you can,” Emily said, studying the nails on one of her hands.
“But I’m your son,” Trevor said, jumping to his feet. “You’re my mom and Mark’s my dad and…”
“Ah, but don’t forget,” Emily said, raising one finger. “I’m the mother who lied to you. Lies of love, but still lies. You hate me, remember? Oh, you’ll have to take Mark’s name off your list of possible candidates for who you might choose to live with, because he’ll be living with me. And the baby brother or sister we hope to be blessed with in the future.”
She was incredible, this woman he loved, Mark thought. Absolutely dynamite.
“But, Mom?” Trevor said, his voice quivering. “I don’t really hate you. I mean, yeah, I was mad and my stomach hurt, but I did listen to what you told me about the lies of love and…and everything.
“You messed up a bunch of stuff, but you didn’t mean to. When I told you I did my homework but I didn’t, that was a real lie. Your lies were different because you thought it was the only way to love me and Mark the best you could and…
“Mom?” he said, tears filling his eyes. “I’m sorry I was so mean and said that I… Please? I want to come home. You’ll be my mom, and Mark will be my dad, and I’ll be your kid and we’ll be a family. A family, Mom. I love you, I swear I do and… Mommy? Please?”
Emily opened her arms and Trevor hurled himself into her embrace, nearly knocking her over. She held him tight, allowing tears to spill onto her cheeks, feeling the hitch in Trevor’s breathing that said that he was crying, too.
“I love you so much, Trevor,” Emily whispered.
“I love you, too, Mom. Awesomely much.”
Mark got to his feet. “Am I allowed to take part in this group hug?”
“Yes,” Emily and Trevor said in unison.
Mark wrapped his arms around his wife-to-be and his son, his own eyes misting with tears.
“A family,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “We’re a little late getting started, but now we’re all together, home, where we belong.”
“The Maxwell family,” Emily said, loving shining in her tear-filled eyes. “At long last.”
“Cool,” Trevor said. “Way cool.”
Epilogue
The following two months seemed to fly by so fast that Emily felt as though she had just torn a page off the daily calendar when it was time to remove another.
Mark and Trevor flew to Boston to pack and ship Mark’s belongings and sublease his apartment. While there, Mark took Trevor on a tour of the city, then on to New York to see the sights. While in the city, Mark met with a literary agent and presented his proposal for the book he hoped to write, which was received with a great deal of enthusiasm.
Emily was busy planning the wedding with her mother and grandmother. It was to be a family-only affair with a reception at Jillian and Forrest’s home. Emily selected a lovely pale-blue suit as her bridal outfit, with matching shirts for Mark and Trevor that they would wear with dark suits. Jessica was to be the matron of honor and Trevor was chosen to be Mark’s best man.
As they had done for Jessica and Daniel, Jillian and Forrest and Margaret and Robert offered a wedding gift of the couple’s choice of a lot owned by Malone Construction on which to build their home. And as he had done for Jessica and Daniel, Ryan Sharpe, who was also a cousin to Emily and the others, offered to draw up the plans for the house as his present to the bride and groom.
Emily and Mark would have a short honeymoon trip up the coast to San Francisco and return on Labor Day evening so they would be home in time to see Trevor off on the first day of school.
To add to the building excitement, a telephone call came from the Island of Wilshire with the wonderful news that both Maggie and Alice were pregnant. Jessica said it sounded like the perfect time to make the announcement that she and Daniel were also expecting a baby. Forrest MacAllister made plans to put the long-standing tradition of the MacAllister baby bet into operation.
On the day before the wedding, Emily closed the office in the early afternoon and arrived home to find Mark and Ryan at the kitchen table, which was covered in large sheets of paper.
“Hello, love,” Mark said, rising to give Emily a searing kiss.
“Hi,” Emily said, then staggered slightly when Mark released her. “Is Trevor still swimming over at the community center?”
Mark laughed. “Yep. Our boy will be growing fins at the rate he’s going.”
“What?” Emily asked. “Oh. Fins. Yes. Like a fish. Got it.”
“Is something wrong?” Mark said.
“Bride jitters,” Ryan said, getting to his feet. “All the MacAllister gals get nuts the day before the wedding. It’s fascinating to watch…from a distance. Emi
ly, before you fall apart completely, come look at the last of the changes I’ve made to your house plans. Mark says they’re right on the money.”
Emily moved closer to gaze at the complicated drawing.
“Fine. Great,” she said, nodding. “I can’t understand those things. I’ll take your word for it. We do thank you for your lovely gift, Ryan.”
Ryan kissed her on the forehead. “You’ve thanked me fourteen times, cousin. Just be happy and when this house is built, turn it into a home filled with love and laughter.” He paused. “I…I envy you, both of you, for what you have together.”
“Oh, Ryan,” Emily said, giving him a hug, then smiling up at him, “your soul mate is out there somewhere. It’s just a matter of being patient and waiting until your paths cross. Don’t give up on finding that very special woman who will be your partner for life.”
“It’s a nice thought,” Ryan said, “that she’s out there just waiting for me to find her but…” He shook his head. “I guess maybe I don’t quite believe that will ever happen. Hey, ignore me. No gloomy stuff the day before the big event.” He rolled up the papers. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding.”
“Okay,” Emily said.
“Thanks again, Ryan,” Mark said.
When Ryan had left the house, Emily frowned as she stared at the door he closed behind him.
“Ryan is so alone. I wish he was as happy as we are, Mark. He has struggled for so many years to accept his half-American and half-Korean heritage, and he seems so lost, and—”
“Whoa,” Mark said, encircling her waist with his arms. “I’d like to see a real smile on Ryan’s face, too, but this isn’t the time to address that dilemma. I want to know what’s wrong. I have a feeling there’s more going on with you than bride jitters. Talk to me.”
“Well, I… You see, I… What I’m trying to say is, Mark… But I don’t know how to tell you that…I…”
“Emily, what is it?” Mark shifted his hands to her shoulders. “You haven’t changed your mind about marrying me, have you?”
Plain Jane MacAllister Page 12
