“You?” Ginny peered at him.
“I was walking back to my office one day, and she happened to be the only one in the hall. I don’t remember what she said, but the way she said it was clearly a come on. I acted dumb and disinterested and started talking about Sam. She never bothered me after that.”
“Bitch. She should be hung out to dry.”
“Now, Ginny, let’s remember, it takes two. She is a comer and apparently makes the rounds, but I never thought Zach would be stupid enough to fall for it. Dumb. Really dumb. Shit. How could he do it to Sam? I thought they were great friends. Do you think maybe he was just drunk and it’s not serious?”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“No. Well, the drunk part maybe, but now if Abby’s involved!” Ric had paled.
He knew that kind of press could ruin Zach and ruin the program.
Somehow, he’d have to convince Zach to clean up his act. “I think we’d better get back to the party,” Ginny said. She tugged on her husband’s arm.
“I need a drink,” Ric said.
CHAPTER 33
I’m going home for Christmas,” Abby said. “I’ll be taking the children with me.” Her words were clipped and without expression.
Zach did not look up from his paper. He could feel her standing in front of him; he could imagine her face, stiff and cold. He could hear her voice, strangely out of synch, like venom from a rabbit. Let her have her way, let her go home to mama, he thought. Better that she does. But we will all go. No point in making waves. Family is family, and Christmas is Christmas. Besides, it would be easy to leave from there to go recruiting.
“We’ll all go,” Zach said into his paper. “A nice family getaway. The children would like that. I’ll spring off from there and meet Jay in Texas. We’ve got two hot running backs in Houston. Yeah, call and get the tickets.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Zach said nothing.
“Look at me, damn it!” Abby said between her teeth.
Zach looked over the paper at Abby and crossed his legs. “I said we will all go, and that’s how it’ll be. What’d you think, that I’d put y’all on a plane and wave goodbye?” An amused smile crept over his lips. “I don’t think so.”
“Since when did you care a hoot about goin’ home for Christmas, and since when did it matter to you what the children think?” Abby’s voice had an edge now.
“My dear, haven’t I always left the arranging to you? And I’ve always been concerned for the children’s welfare. Not about to stop now.” Zach stood, folded his paper and tossed it on the table.
“Get the tickets—four of them. I’m going to the office.” His grin was gone when he walked out. He turned his back to her and lifted his coat from the brass hook in the hall.
“I see,” said Abby. “Well, I’m going on the twenty-third, as soon as finals are over for Zoe and Luke. When shall I say you....”
“Same. And I’ll be late; don’t hold supper.”
He was out the door. Abby heard the Jeep start up and sank into the sofa like a rag doll. She hadn’t expected this. If anything, she expected him to fight her about this, to try and force her to stay. Or, if that failed, she had been certain he would stay, not wanting to go home to his or her family, not wanting to be far from his mistress. This turn of events was not what she expected, nor what she wanted. She wanted time to think, away from him, away from Cross, far away.
Abby resigned herself to the situation, picked up the phone on the side table, and dialed the familiar number of their travel agent. She reserved four tickets in first class for December 23.
Emmy knew something was terribly wrong the minute she saw Abby. She was vapor thin, pale and tense.
The first time she got her cousin alone, Emmy insisted that they go out for lunch. The day was clear and almost balmy. They chit chatted all the way to the restaurant, neither saying anything of importance. Emmy parked the car, but didn’t move to leave. She looked intensely at the woman beside her and cleared her throat.
“Abby, you’re closer than any sister could be to me. I know you too well. Something’s wrong. What is it? Tell me.”
“I’m fine, really. Just fine.” Abby unlocked her door and started to get out. “Let’s get some lunch; I’m starved.”
Emmy grabbed Abby’s sleeve before she could get out the door. “Do you want to face this alone, or will you let me help?”
Abby’s resolve evaporated. Only Emmy could do this, get right to the heart of things, read her mind, force an answer. Emmy, who knew her secrets whether she spoke them or not. Emmy, who had been there whenever she needed her. Abby’s eyes filled with tears as her head sank lower and lower to her chest.
“He’s cattin’ around, and people are starting to notice, and I caught them in my house, in the middle of his goddam party. And she’s his goddam secretary, for chrissake, a slut, a...” The anger and shame was oozing out of Abby with each word.
“Oh, Ab.” Emmy reached over the distance and touched Abby’s hand. “I was afraid it was something like that. As far as I’m concerned, the only good thing that man ever did was father three handsome children. He’s a shithead, plain and simple. I want to cut his balls off. I never did like him, Ab. I never did. And he’s probably blaming you on top of it, isn’t he?”
“He says I’m dead in bed, and if he got what he deserved at home, he wouldn’t have to look around. Well, maybe he’s right. I mean, I hate sex. He hurts me, and he only does it when he’s drunk anyway.” Abby was sobbing and furiously wiping tears from her face with the sleeve of her jacket.
“Don’t you ever say that again, Abigail Frances! I bet he’s convinced he’ll blow up with a big noise if he doesn’t get his rocks off on a daily basis. He’s a spoiled brat who can’t keep his zipper zipped, and I’d bet the bank this isn’t the first time either. And Zach’s obsessed with sex and money and power. I tell you, if you know how a man feels about money, you know more about him than if you sleep with him.” Emmy took a deep breath, lowered her voice as if some unseen person might hear. “Do the children know?” she asked.
“Dear God, no! This doesn’t concern them. He’ll have to shape up now that he knows I know. We’ve been together too long. This will just have to go away. It’ll pass; it always has.” Abby’s composure was returning. “I can handle it. I have to handle it, that’s all. My children need a father and a mother. I won’t let him or anybody else take that away from them.”
“Horsehocky! The children are all adults now. They would be upset, sure, but they’d get through it. The question is, do you love him, and do you want to stay with him?” Emmy was probing.
Abby looked defeated. “Oh, I don’t know anymore. He is the father of my children, and we have a beautiful home, and where would I be without all that, all alone with no way to support myself? No, Emmy, I can’t leave him if that’s what you mean. I just can’t. He’ll come around. He has to. Even Zach is too smart to let some tart spoil his career.”
“So, you don’t love him, but you’d stay with him because of money? You’d stay because of his career? It sounds like he’s just a bad habit.” Emmy’s fury was in her voice.
“It’s not his money. I’m forty-five years old, Emmy. Where would I go, what would I do? Being his wife is all I know.” Abby looked so small, and her tears wouldn’t stop no matter how fast she wiped them away.
“Mark my words, Ab, he’s not done hurtin’ you. I just can’t stand it! He’s got something wrong with him, always has. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Cripes, he even came on to me before.” Emmy’s hand flew to her mouth as soon as the words were out, but it was too late.
“What? When?”
“Damn! I didn’t mean to say that. What’s the point? Oh, hell, Ab, the first time he got fresh was when he was dating you. And there have been a few times since. I can see it in his eyes, a hunger that never stops, a big void. It’s been there since the day I met him; it has nothing to do with
you and nothin’ to do with me. Do ya hear? Nothin’ at all. All that’s gonna happen is more pain. Please, Abby, don’t go back; I’m scared about you goin’ back.” Emmy’s voice was shaking as she looked at Abby’s sunken face, so drawn and pasty.
“He did that to you?” Abby watched Emmy nod. She wasn’t crying now. “Well, maybe I should leave him. I’ve thought about it, you know, but I can’t right yet. Don’t you see? I have to try one more time. I have to sort it all out.”
Abigail Trudeau’s face became solemn. “And you can’t tell Mama about any of this, ya hear? She’d worry herself sick. You know she would. I don’t want to upset her or Joshua for no reason. Promise me, Em, promise me.”
Abby begged with her intense blue bloodshot eyes and squeezed Emmy’s hand. “Okay, I promise, but I don’t like it. Your Mama would know what to do, what to say to you. And Joshua, he’s still as sharp as a shark’s tooth, and he could help sort it out. And do you think she hasn’t noticed? What am I going to tell her when she asks me what I think?”
“You must promise. I couldn’t stand to see the look on Mama’s face if she knew about all this. Besides, I have to try to make it work.”
“At what price, Ab? Huh?” Emmy looked into Abby’s pleading eyes. “All right, I’ll think of something. How come I always have to think of something to keep us out of the soup? Some things never change, huh?”
“I’m glad you don’t change, at least when it comes to me. I feel so much better already, just talking to you about all this. Really.”
“Okay, let’s go have lunch and forget about the bastard for a while. I want to catch you up on things anyway. Cripes, we haven’t had any time to gossip at all!”
The two women ordered chef salads and gumbo from their favorite restaurant. The food was enough of a draw, but they also enjoyed watching the huge saltwater aquariums teeming with an extraordinary spectrum of sea life and color which were somehow nestled into the rough cut walls above the tables. Fishing nets hung from the ceiling, successfully creating the illusion that patrons were inside a ship’s galley.
Abby pointed to the aquariums.
“You know, Em, they’re like me. They live in a fishbowl and swim around bumping into the edge, but can’t get out,” Abby said.
Emmy reached over and covered Abby’s hand. “You could leap out like a flying fish and swim in the sea. All that’s stopping you is your fear of flying, right?”
“But what about the school of little fish? They’re counting on me to stay and help them.”
“They’ll get along. Just think what they’ll learn from your example.”
“Yeah. That fish bowls are full of fish shit, and if you try to get out, you’ll die.”
“Would you stop that! No. They’ll learn that being trapped isn’t worth the false comfort and that being free is worth the risk.”
“Okay, okay. I get the point, and I love you for it, really. Tell me your gossip now; I don’t want to talk about fish bowls anymore,” Abby said.
“Okay. How’s this? Trish Copley ran off to Florida with some guy she met at the airport of all places. Seems she was waiting for Stan’s plane one day, and there he was, her Prince Charming. I mean, how do you fall in love in an airport? I couldn’t believe it!” Emmy rattled on between bites.
“I always figured Trish was a wild woman. Must be Stan was too tame for her, huh?” Abby asked.
“Yeah, I guess.” Emmy hesitated before her next bite and her next piece of news.
“I saw Wills last week. He asked after you.” Emmy watched her cousin’s face. Abby dropped her fork. Her face flickered with life for the first time since she had come home.
“Wills? Really? How is he? How are the children? What did he say? Every word, Em, come on.”
“Hold on to your britches, and I’ll tell you. He asked if you were happy, when you were coming home again. He asked about your kids and my kids, and he told me that the first Christmas since Sue Ann’s death was a tough time for his family, but that they were even closer now and helped each other a lot.”
“Oh, poor Wills. I sent flowers, you know, and I wanted to send a note, but I didn’t know what to say, so I just signed my name. Did he say anything else?” Abby asked.
“Well, I told him you weren’t fond of Vermont, that Zach was gone a lot, that you’d be home for Christmas and so on, and then he left.”
“Is that it? No more?”
Emmy’s eyebrows lifted, and she cocked her head to one side. “There was one more thing,” she said, dragging out every word.
“What? What?”
“He asked me to have you call him if you got a chance. He said he’d like to see you and wish you a Merry Christmas. He said you’d always have a special place in his heart, and then he kissed my cheek and hurried away.” Emmy took a deep breath. “There, will that do?”
“He wanted me to call? What do you think I should do?” Abby asked.
“I think you should call today, before you lose your nerve. I mean, it is Christmas time, and you are old friends, after all.” Emmy could see Abby’s brain turning this over.
Abruptly, Abby said, “I’m full. Let’s go.”
Emmy couldn’t repress a self-satisfied grin. She paid the check as Abby headed for the door.
When the two women arrived back at Emmy and John’s house, Abby tucked herself in John’s office for some quiet time to think. What would she say after all this time? What would he say? It felt so awkward and so right at the same time. She sat for a long time, thinking about the right words, the right feeling. It was so important to let him know how sorry she was about his wife’s death, but not to dwell on it, how much she cared about him, but not to mislead him, how much she wanted to hold him one more time, but not to say it. Abby was tied up in butterfly knots. She felt a tugging she hadn’t known in decades. She couldn’t still be in love with him, could she? Well, what if she was? It didn’t matter. Schoolgirl thoughts were pointless at her age. Silly. Square one. What to say to him? He probably wouldn’t be home anyway. And if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t know she tried to call. The thought panicked her. With a trembling hand, she lifted the receiver. Abby remembered his number as if it had been yesterday when last she called. It was ringing. Once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth ring, Abby nearly hung up when she heard a deep voice at the other end of the line.
“Hullo. Taylor Farm.”
“Hello. Is this Wills Taylor?” Abby said in a barely audible voice.
“No, ma’am. He’s in the barn. This is Tom Taylor, his son. Can I help you?”
“Oh. Tom. Yes. You must be, what, twenty-two, three, by now?”
“Twenty-two. Who’s this?”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m just an old friend of your father’s.” It seemed so strange to be talking to Wills’ grown son. Where had the years gone? They had been younger than their own children when they were last together. Abby felt like she was in a time warp where nothing fit, nothing sounded quite right.
“Ma’am? Are you still there?” Tom Taylor asked.
“Yes, yes. Sorry. Please tell your father Abby O’Malley called. He’ll know. I’m in town visiting family for the holidays and just wanted to wish him and all of you a Merry Christmas.”
“Oh, wait a minute, ma’am, you can tell him yourself. He just walked in. Nice talking with you. Merry Christmas.”
Abby’s hands were shaking visibly now. Her voice had left her, and her stomach flip-flopped. Silly. Just calling an old friend, she thought, trying to calm herself. And then she heard his voice.
“Abby? Is that really you?” Wills asked, his excitement leaping through the receiver.
Abby tried to speak. All she could get out was a whisper. “Yesss,” she said. After all this time, his voice sounded the same, so friendly, so loving, so near.
“Well, I’ll be doggoned. I can’t believe it’s you! How are you? How long are you here for? Will I get a chance to see you? Where are you? Abby? Are you still there?”
“Emmy’s. I’m
at Emmy’s,” she said.
“Can I see you, Abby?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
CHAPTER 34
They’d been back for two weeks, and Abby could barely drag herself out of bed every morning. Each day, just before noon, she’d poured a tumbler of anesthetic from the ever-full carafe of sherry. Then she would close her eyes and remember Wills’ face the day they met for coffee. The first thought when she awoke and the last before falling asleep, she replayed every word, smell, sound, and touch of their brief visit. His hands were rough and calloused, and his embrace was still so gentle and warm. There was such a sadness within his dark brown eyes, but more than that, there was love, and it was for her. She was positive of that. How different their lives would have been. It was hell leaving him again after she said she had to try one more time to make her marriage work.
The sky was threatening snow. Again. The television was droning on, one talk show after another. One was touting stress therapy and fat-free food. Another had a panel of lazy husbands and their wives. They were at each other’s throats. Abby thought they all looked like they were on the brink of divorce. More interesting was that the women seemed to treat their husbands like just another one of their misbehaving children, and the men were in open rebellion. Was she like that, she wondered? No. Not like that. She’d trade in their complaints about garbage and childcare for fidelity any day.
Her glass was empty, and the ashtray was full of half-smoked cigarettes. She watched the talk shows with the dull numbness that colored her life. It was this state in which she found herself when the chimes rang in the front hall.
Abby looked at herself in the mirror. Her clothes were hanging loosely on her thin frame and her face was unmade, but otherwise, she decided she was presentable. She peaked through the front door’s side glass window.
A strange large car was parked in the driveway. Abby opened the door. In front of her stood a tall, stunning, fortyish woman with long, ebony hair tinged with white. She was exquisitely dressed in a long, white wool coat that kissed the tops of her black leather boots. A red silk scarf was tucked in around her neck. Glistening coal black eyes focused directly on Abby.
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