by Sandra Kitt
“Let’s hope the joys of the future will be strengthened by those of the past.”
She found his remark thoughtful and somehow profound. Grace had always thought of Benson with genuine feeling and warmth and regret, and without guilt she smiled at the man sitting opposite her. Grace began to relax in his company.
After they’d placed their order, Carter took a purple envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table to her.
He said nothing, offered no explanation and Grace stared at the envelope suspiciously. She did not ask what it might be; but her sudden rapid heartbeat and her flushed skin signaled that she’d reached her own conclusion.
“Does this have anything to do with Valentine’s Day? Because if it does, you’re a day early.”
He shook his head as he watched her. “To my way of thinking, I’m a few years late. Better late than never.”
Grace finally reached for the envelope. It was flat, but thick. She slid her fingers inside and removed the contents. As she leafed through them, her surprise increased...as did a new anxiety. There was a card with a sweet, romantic, but tasteful, greeting. It made her smile as she read it through twice. Then she realized that the other contents consisted of two cruise tickets—one issued in her name, and one in Carter’s—although they had different staterooms. She was unable to utter a single word.
“This is my way of saying that not only do I want you to be my Valentine, Grace, I want you to be mine period. I want to go back to square one, start over and court you. I want us to get to know each other. We have a lot of catching up to do. I want to do all the him and her things I’ve never done before, and I want to do them with you.”
She couldn’t breathe. She felt dizzy, like the room was slowly turning on its side. “I guess I can’t say this is so sudden.”
“Maybe for you, but not me. I told you the last time we saw each other that telling you my feelings was a long time coming.”
She silently put everything back into the envelope; her gaze upon him was troubled but pleaded for understanding. “You’re asking me to go away with you. I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Am I wrong to believe you have feelings for me?”
There it was. Truth or dare.
“No,” she said with some relief.
“Are you worried about the kids, and about how Marjorie will react to our being together?”
“Yes.”
“Are you worried about being alone with me?” he asked more gently.
She merely nodded.
Their dinner was served, and Carter wisely guided the conversation to a general discussion of all the places he wanted to travel to in his lifetime. Grace eventually confessed she had her own short list. On it was a trip to Disney World, which didn’t need an explanation. Ever since Benson’s death, she’d imagined the rest of her life alone, as if she’d been banished forever to widowhood. There were the children, of course, but Grace had prepared herself for living without a partner, a lover and soul mate. She was ready to accept her fate. Carter’s interest and his intentions had not eliminated that, but had added a new wrinkle in the fabric of her life that was not so easy to deal with.
Grace knew that Carter was disappointed in her response. He watched her closely throughout dinner, trying not to look like he was staring. She knew he was looking for a sign of hope or encouragement, rather than an outright no.
Silence eventually took over as her mind went into free fall, and a flurry of vignettes and episodes from the past, moments that had been charged with emotion, innocent yet titillating, exciting but dangerous. All the wishful thinking she’d ruthlessly suppressed rose to the surface. She’d married Benson because she loved him; he had been a good man with enormous promise, but he was gone.
So, why did she continue to feel guilty and ashamed?
Carter took care of the bill. They stepped out into the cold February night. The rain had turned to a light snow. He began walking to his parked car, then realized that Grace hung back.
“Carter, I...I’d rather go home by myself on the train.”
The muscles tightened in Carter’s jaw, and he nodded. “All right.”
She touched her temple. “My head is spinning. I can’t think straight. I’m sorry.”
He took her elbow. “I’ll drive you to the station.”
They were both silent, both deep in thought, neither having any idea what the next step was. Outside the gate to her train track, they stood facing one another. He held out the envelope. After a moment she silently took it.
“I don’t think this came at you out of left field. I kept my distance out of respect for Benson. But then I asked myself, what am I waiting for?”
“But...to go on a cruise together,” she stammered.
He grinned gently at her. “You gave me the idea. I counted on that when I asked you what you would want.”
“You were pretty sure of yourself,” she said grimly.
“Only about wanting to be with you. But I’m not out of the woods, it seems. You could still turn me down. If that happens, I’ll deal with it. The cruise leaves in ten days. I want you to come with me, Grace.”
She was afraid to ask, what if she didn’t?
An announcement echoed through the terminal about the departure of train 317 to Westchester, leaving on Track 29.
“No matter what else happens, there’s something I have to do before you go,” Carter began.
Grace stood waiting. She knew exactly what it was. Carter put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. She knew instantly that this was more than caring, more than affection. His mouth descended, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head so he would fit properly atop her open lips. The first touch went to her head, his mouth gently moving and caressing hers. She became pliant and willing and easy and breathless.
The euphoria was like a drug that she’d been without for so long; the sensation was dramatic and overwhelming.
Grace let Carter take his fill. Even she held nothing back, enjoying the delicious expertise of his embrace, the sensual dance of his tongue around hers. It was a sweet awakening.
And, very possibly, a bittersweet goodbye.
Chapter 4
“Gracie, I’m not going to tell you what to do. Besides, that’s not why you called me all in a tither about Carter asking you to go away with him. You expect me to get upset and defend your honor? You want my permission? You’re a grown woman.”
“Okay, I don’t want you to tell me what to do, but I need help!”
“You don’t need help, either, girl. You just need to make up your mind about what you want. You either feel something for the man, or you don’t. Simple.” Ward Mathison began to laugh heartily, as if the punch line to a joke had just come back to him. “Lord, what’s going on in the world! Your Mama and me sure had it easy. Nothing like the pretzel twisting y’all put yourselves through these days.”
Grace, sitting in bed with her knees drawn up to her chest, began to relax under the nonjudgmental sound of her father’s voice, and his wisdom. It was the reason why she’d finally called him.
“Do you like him?” she asked.
“Do you like him? is more to the point.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I’ve only had a chance to talk with Carter maybe half a dozen times in the eight years since you met him. He strikes me as a very smart man. A good man.”
“A lot like Benson,” she murmured thoughtfully.
“Right. But different. If Benson hadn’t died so unexpectedly, you two might have made a go of your marriage for a long time. Maybe forever. But it didn’t work out that way. So now Carter shows up and has the guts to admit he’s always cared about you. It’s your move. The ball is in your court, if you’ll pardon the sports analogy.
“Grace, this is a no-brainer, baby. If you’re developing real feelings for him, I’ll watch the kids for a week while you go have a good time and figure it out. If you decide to stay home, then I’m
coming over on Sunday for dinner like I always do after church.”
Grace wasn’t sure her father fully understood that the force driving her was not about what she might feel for Carter, but what to do with what she used to feel for Benson. The question of loyalty might raise its ugly head, but maintaining her children’s memory of their father was more important. That really only left, as her father said, what she wanted to do. Grace started by asking herself two simple questions: What’s the worst thing that could happen? And, what was the best possible outcome?
* * *
Grace had put herself through such a night of what-ifs that now, as she got out of the cab she had taken from Grand Central, she felt a preternatural calm combined with the excitement of a child. She hoped she’d be able to find Carter at the check-in point at the pier, but she also wondered if it had been a mistake not to call and let him know she was accepting his Valentine’s gift. What if he’d gotten so discouraged he’d changed his mind?
She didn’t see him anywhere in the lines of people waiting to show passports and get their ship IDs, so Grace refused to let the porters tag and take her luggage. For all of her ambivalence about traveling with Carter, she had no desire to go without him.
She found a public phone and used a calling card to reach her father, checking with him for the second time since he’d arrived at her house to stay with the kids while she was away. Grace knew that Madison would do fine without her, but Becca was still likely to call her in the night if she woke up from a bad dream or needed to go potty. Grace hoped that her father’s presence would be enough for the week that she’d be away.
And then she remembered the call to Marjorie....
“Hey. You made it.”
Grace looked up from putting her calling card away and saw Carter approaching. Her reaction was swift and telling. Caught off guard, she fumbled and dropped her purse. He bent to retrieve it, holding it out to her.
“I’m really glad to see you,” he said, returning her purse.
“Me, too,” she admitted.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’m fine. I’m really sorry I gave you a hard time.”
Carter grinned slowly at her, and it was another minute before Grace understood the innuendo.
“Right now it doesn’t matter. I had to have faith that you’d come. That you’d trust me.”
A porter appeared again and took their suitcases, Carter’s garment bag, and Grace’s tote. Then they were directed to one of the lines. In a few moments they were issued onboard IDs, which served as room keys and ship credit cards. Grace was relieved that she had her own stateroom.
Finally, they were directed to board the ship. As they moved along behind other passengers, Grace felt Carter’s hand lightly on her arm as he ushered her along. She looked up into his face and met his gaze.
“I’m very nervous,” she said honestly.
Carter took hold of her hand as they walked. “Me, too.”
Once onboard Grace became completely turned around, unable to figure out the front of the ship from the back, or to remember the nautical terms for both. There was so much to learn right away, including how to get to their staterooms, where to report for the safety and evacuation drill on deck, and how to put on the life vests. To Grace’s way of thinking, she was already under enough pressure being isolated with Carter for six days and five nights without feeling truly like a fish out of water.
When the drill was over, they returned to their staterooms, and each disappeared inside to unpack. Grace was still hanging up clothes when there was a knock on her door. She stepped over the open suitcase on the floor to answer it.
“Man.” Carter chuckled, stepping into the small space. “I didn’t know the staterooms were so small. If you sneeze, you’re in trouble.”
“The bed doesn’t look long enough for you to sleep in,” she observed. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll manage. Leave that for now,” he said, pointing to a pile of clothing on the bed. “Let’s go look around.”
Grace grabbed her room key and purse and joined Carter in the narrow corridor. He took hold of her hand and started walking.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Grace asked him.
“I haven’t a clue. But sooner or later, we’ll end up right back where we started.”
Grace was content to follow Carter’s lead. He quickly figured out how the ship was laid out; where the theater, gym, casino and lounges were all located; and the shortest way back to their rooms. Out on one of the decks, they realized they were already underway. The ship had backed out of the slip and was coasting down the Hudson toward the mouth of New York Harbor. It was much too cold for them to stay outdoors and watch as they passed by the Statue of Liberty and beneath the Verrazano Bridge. Carter suggested that they go up to the top deck lounge, The Crow’s Nest, and watch from there. He ordered drinks for them, and they sat in soft leather chairs, watching through a panoramic window as the New York skyline fell away behind them. Carter made a bon voyage toast, and they clinked their glasses gently together.
“Here’s to smooth sailing, sandy shores and not getting seasick.”
Graced laughed. “Here’s to winning in the casino, midnight daiquiris and a facial in the spa.”
Carter took a sip of his drink and grew serious. He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. “Thank you for coming, Grace.”
Grace watched him for a moment and then took up a similar position in her chair. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for asking me,” she said softly.
They relaxed in companionable silence as night settled around them and the ship headed out to sea.
* * *
Grace was convinced that Carter had changed his mind about her. It had taken her a full day to become used to being with, and seeing, him so often in the confines of the ship. They were assigned a table for two. Each evening they got dressed and met for dinner. With Carter escorting her, Grace felt like she was on a date. He was accommodating and polite, and their conversations covered everything under the sun...except personal matters or themselves. During the first afternoon at sea, Grace indulged in several spa treatments, while Carter spent time in the gym and napped in a lounger. It was companionable, and although he seemed to be enjoying himself, Grace wondered whether he’d become bored with the slow-paced activities onboard, or with her.
At night they sat in one of another of the many ship lounges, each with its own musical theme. They found the one that played contemporary rock and danced to familiar songs from high school and college. Grace quickly realized that she’d not been out dancing since her wedding reception, but she didn’t tell Carter. She especially liked the slow numbers, when he’d hold her against his chest, their thighs rubbing as they moved, and their hips pressed together. With her eyes closed, Grace let herself be lulled by the seductive swaying of their bodies, feeling a gentle heat building in her veins as she wished for more.
At any time she could invoke a complete replay of the way Carter had kissed her at the train station the night he revealed the way he felt about her. And yet, now that they were alone, he’d done nothing to act on his feelings, nothing to encourage her to act on her own. The first night onboard the ship, she’d lain in bed awake, half expecting to hear a knock on her door, which never came. Grace was grateful; it was as if she’d been given a reprieve. But at the end of the first day at sea, she was better prepared and anticipated some sort of overture from Carter only to be surprised when again, night after night, nothing happened.
By the afternoon of the second day, the ship was farther south, and the air was a little warmer. It was not warm enough to venture into the outdoor pools, but it was warm enough to walk on deck or stretch out in the loungers on the sunny side of the ship. Grace and Carter placed their deck chairs side by side in reclining positions. He reached for her hand and held it. But it wasn’t enough. She knew it wasn’t enough.
“Why haven’t you eve
r married?” Grace suddenly asked.
“Who said I was never married?” he responded lazily, turning his head to squint at her through his dark glasses.
Her head swiveled sharply toward him, and she stared back. “Were you?”
“For about four years.”
“Benson never said anything about it to me.”
“There was no reason to. It happened before I met Benson and ended in the second year of law school.”
“Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“I’m glad you asked.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because it means you’re thinking about me. You’re wondering who I was before I knew Benson, and before I met you.”
Grace was thoughtful for a moment, conscious of their fingers linked together and the firmness and warmth of his skin.
“I can’t believe I was so wrong about how you felt about me.”
“It was better that way, believe me. You were married. I was on the outside looking in. It didn’t matter how I felt.”
“I thought a lot about you. It always made me feel guilty. Like I was cheating on Benson.”
“You never would have. I never would have asked.”
“You’re right.”
“That would have been a sure way of losing you.”
She closed her eyes. “Right again.”
The ship docked in St. George’s, Bermuda, on the third day out of New York. Neither Grace nor Carter had ever been to the island before, and Grace was completely charmed by the quaintness of its old towns and by the English customs that were maintained by the locals.
She did not object when Carter suggested renting a scooter for getting around. Although nervous about this open mode of transportation, Grace trusted Carter to keep them both safe. After a few hair-raising turns on the twisty roads, she got into the adventure. They stopped a number of times at historic points and found a lovely outdoor café overlooking a pink sand beach. At Tobacco Cay, Carter rented snorkeling gear, and again overcoming her initial fears, Grace let him teach her how to use the gear to watch sea life just beneath the water’s surface.
