Forever (31 page)

“Why didn’t you let me talk to Mom?” Lindsay asked.

Humiliation had tattooed his neck and face red. How could he turn and face his daughter? “She just called to check in. They were on their way out somewhere.” He took two deep breaths, and the heat from his face diminished enough to risk facing her. “You can call her tomorrow.” He caught Dave’s eye, silently pleading for help.

“I’m starved,” Dave said. “Lindsay, why don’t you and Eric go over to the marina and pick us up a pizza?”

“It’s after eleven!” she said.

“They’re open till two,” Dave countered, never breaking eye contact with Tom.

Lindsay hesitated, but Eric evidently caught the drift. He jumped up and pulled Lindsay from her chair. “Large deluxe with extra cheese okay?”

“Sure,” Dave said.

Tom didn’t speak until Eric’s car pulled away from the cabin. “Julie knows.”

Dave got up to search in the cabinets. “Don’t you have anything stronger than beer?”

“I don’t want any—”

“You
need
it.” Dave pulled a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet over the refrigerator and nearly filled a juice glass. “Here, drink this.”

Tom tipped the glass to his lips, but he seemed to have forgotten the art of swallowing. Two rivulets of whiskey dribbled down his chin. He didn’t bother to wipe them off.

“How does Julie know?”

“Pictures.”

“You have pictures of Annie and Julie found them?”

“No.”

“Talk to me, Tom. Who the hell has pictures of who?”

“Eddie. The blackouts. Eddie has pictures of Annie and me. In the parking lot. I blacked it out. He showed them to Julie.”

“Who the fuck is Eddie?”

The question hit Tom like ice water poured down his back. He could barely mouth a response. “I’m not sure I know.”

* * *

Her fury spent, Julie dropped her phone on top of the photos and collapsed on her bed. She gave way to body-wracking sobs. She wanted to scream and never stop. Her life had shattered into a million shards, each one piercing her heart. She wanted to go home. She wanted Lindsay. She wanted to be alone.

“Please, don’t cry, Julie.” Patricia knelt on the floor beside the bed, smoothing Julie’s hair. “This is for the best. You’ll see. Would you like a drink? That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Julie didn’t reply, but Patricia got up to pour a brandy for each of them.

When Julie waved hers away, Patricia set it on the table next to her and walked around to the other side of the bed. She settled next to Julie, and went on talking calmly. “You’ll move in with me when we get home. Of course, we’ll tell Tom to move out of the house, but until he does you’ll stay with me.”

Despite the jumble of thoughts in Julie’s mind, Patricia words filtered through to her and forced back the tears as she tried to make sense of them. Julie pushed herself upright, sat back against the headboard, and reached for the brandy.

“Getting through this mess with Tom will be hell for you, sweetie, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. It kills me to see him hurt you. I love you so much, Julie.”

Julie turned her head to say she appreciated the sympathy and was startled to see Patricia leaning toward her. Before Julie could react, Patricia pulled her closer and kissed her passionately.

Instinctively, Julie shoved her backwards, spilling brandy on them both. “Oh, God . . . what are you do—” Julie jumped off the bed and spun to face Patricia. “Oh, my
God
. What the hell were you doing?”

“I don’t understa—”

“
You
don’t understand!” Julie was shaking so hard she could barely stand. Keeping Patricia in sight, she staggered backwards to a chair. “I never—
ever
—gave you any reason to think we were more than friends.”

“But Eddie said—”

“Eddie!” Julie shook her head in disbelief. “What the hell does Eddie have to do with this? He’s supposed to be your
boyfriend
, for God’s sake.”

“No.” Patricia frowned. “No, he’s—”

“He’s
what
?”

Patricia started toward Julie, arms outstretched, wailing. “But you love me. Eddie said you
love
me.”

“No.” Julie stood and moved behind the chair. “This is crazy. I don’t know what the hell’s going on. Oh,
God
. I can’t deal with any more shit tonight.” She gestured toward the closet. “Get your things out of my room, Patricia. Just leave me the hell
alone
.”

* * *

For over an hour, Tom lay awake listening to Eric’s and Max’s snoring with Dave chiming in from the next room, but the racket couldn’t drown out the continual replay of his conversation with Julie. The blackout curtain had remained lifted. Julie had photos of him with Annie, so she knew he’d gone far beyond a couple of kisses. Under the influence of Jacob or not didn’t matter. He deserved everything Julie threw at him. He deserved nothing good. He buried his head in the pillow and cried for all the love he’d thrown away.

When the phone rang, he was finally in a state of half-sleep, and he responded automatically, reaching out for the bedside table before he realized he was grasping only air. He sat up, cracking his head on the underside of the top bunk. “
Ow, goddammit
.” He grabbed his jeans from the floor and ran toward the kitchen phone.

He picked it up, but before he could say anything, he heard crying. “Julie. Is that you?”

“I . . . I need to talk to someone.”

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t . . . yes, I’m all right, but . . . Patricia told me she loves me.”

“Oh, Julie, Patricia is the last thing we should be talk—”

“No, Tom. Patricia is
in love
with me.” Julie paused as if waiting for some reaction, but he only stood on the cold wooden floor of the cabin with his mouth hanging open.

“She made a
pass
at me.” Julie’s voice wavered on the last words, but she didn’t break down again. “She kissed me on the mouth.”

Frantically, Tom weighed the importance of this turn of events against all he wanted to say to Julie. “Babe, I know that upset you, and I want to listen to whatever you need to tell me. So why don’t you just come home?”

“The situation’s too awkward here now, so I was planning to come home tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s great. The sooner the better.”

Julie was so quiet, he thought they’d lost the connection. Then she sobbed.

“I’m so confused,” she said. “I don’t want a divorce. I don’t know why I said I did. I’d changed my mind, I was going to call you and tell you, but then Eddie had those photos and—”

“I love you, Julie. I truly do. I know you probably can’t believe that, right now, but—”

She broke down again, but Tom was able to make out her response—“I love you too.”

He didn’t realize he was still in his underwear until he hung up the phone. As he pulled on his jeans,
Julie’s coming home
was all he could think. It was all that mattered.

* * *

Julie clicked off from Tom and called down to the concierge. “Could you please let me know what flights are available to Indianapolis tomorrow?”

“Oh, of course, Mrs. Cogan, but . . . well, when Mr. Bond changed his flight he indicated you would be staying a few more days.”

“He’s leaving early?”

“Actually, he’s already left. I’ll check on tomorrow’s flight schedule and call you right back.”

Had Eddie left the hotel immediately after she’d left his room? Before Patricia had . . . had . . . and now he’d left her and Patricia here alone. So it was true. He
had
given Patricia the impression that her attentions would be welcomed.

Why
?

Why had Eddie persuaded her to come on this trip? Why had he convinced her to tell Tom she wanted a divorce? Why had he shown her those horrible photos? Was it all in a misguided belief that she and Patricia belonged together?

Julie took her bags from the closet and started gathering her things, leaving any that Patricia had left behind. The photos lay scattered on the nightstand, where she’d thrown them during her raging call to Tom. Before she left, she would tear them into unrecognizable bits, though the housekeeping staff wouldn’t recognize the people . . . the couple . . .

No. Don’t go there again
.

Looking straight ahead and feeling with her hands, Julie gathered up the Polaroids. Polaroids? She jumped when the phone rang. The concierge gave her the flight times, and she told him the last morning one would probably be best. Maybe she could manage a few hours sleep before she checked out. Absently, she glanced down at what she held in her hand. She looked. She saw. She saw a house. And another. She flipped through them one by one. All houses.

No Tom. No
woman
.

“Mrs. Cogan?” the concierge said. “Are you there?”

“Yes.” Her lips felt numb.

“Do you want me to book you a seat on the ten o’clock flight, then?”

“No . . . when is the earliest one?”

“Six twenty-five.”

“That one,” she said. “I’ll take that one.”

She’d lost all hope for sleep. There were too many thoughts screaming at her. Photos can’t change. She shuffled through them again and recognized properties Patricia had sold. Where were the images she’d seen when Eddie handed them to her? Now, she felt numb all over. She was afraid. Frankly, she was terrified.

But of what?

* * *

Now wide awake, Tom stepped out to the porch for a smoke. The sky had clouded over; leaving only a trace of light from the full moon. Max was a darker blob against the darkness of the woods as he edged along them. Lindsay’s bare feet on the hickory floor made no sound as she walked through the cabin toward him.

“Dad?”

Startled, he spun toward her silhouette in the doorway. “What are you doing up, baby girl?”

“The phone.”

“I’m sorry. I tried to get to it as soon as I could.”

“I picked it up . . . at the same time you did.”

No
.
What had she heard
?

“I know I should have hung up . . . I’m sorry . . . but—” She rushed toward him. Hugging him around the waist like a child, she buried her head against his chest. “Oh Daddy, I thought . . . I thought that’s why Mom left. I thought she was going off with Patricia.”

“But . . .” He struggled to catch and voice one of the many thoughts rushing through his head. “Why? Why did you think that?”

“Because I saw her—
Patricia
—the way she looked at Mom that day in the kitchen, and I heard her telling Mom to divorce you.” Lindsay pulled back and looked up at him. “It was obvious how Patricia felt about Mom.”

“Not to me. Not even to your mom. You heard how upset she was?”

Lindsay nodded. “I hated Mom. I almost wished she were dead for leaving us like that.” She burst into tears. Tom pulled her to him.

That day in the kitchen
. The day he’d overheard Lindsay and Julie arguing. The day he’d been dead certain that they were talking about him.

“It’s all right. Everything’s going to be fine now.” Tom held Lindsay until she dried her tears, and then he shooed her back to bed. He’d just let Max in when the phone rang again. This time he was close enough to answer it before the second ring.

“They’re not the same,” Julie said. “They’ve changed. They aren’t—”

“What’s changed? What are you talking about?”

“The photos. They’re not the ones I saw earlier tonight. These are Polaroids, and they don’t show what I thought I saw.”

“What are you saying?”

“These are photos of houses. Patricia’s real estate properties.” There was a catch in her voice. “Tom, what’s going on?”

“I . . .” He had no idea, but his heart pounded in alarm. “I don’t know. But you need to come home right now, babe. Don’t even tell Patricia and Eddie you’re leaving, that’s impor—”

“Eddie’s not here.”

“What? What do you mean?” He’d broken out in a sweat.

“When I called the concierge to see about changing my flight he told me—”

“Julie, are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“Go down to the lobby and get a taxi to the airport right this minute. Don’t waste time packing, that’s not important. Just get home as quickly as you can.”

“I’m almost packed, Tom, and I’ve already booked a seat on the first morning flight—”

“Good. That’s good. Is Patricia still there with you?”

“Well, she’s not in my room, I guess she’s in—”

“Great. Then finish packing as soon as you hang up and go to the airport. Get a room at an airport hotel if you want to, but don’t give Patricia a clue that you’re leaving there or flying home. Do you understand?”

“I understand what you’re telling me to do, but what’s going on?”

“Julie! Please listen. It’s important. Will you do what I said?”

“Okay. I will. I’ll do exactly what you said.”

“I love you, babe, with all my heart. I truly do. Please, leave there
now
.”

June 26

D
awn was just pinking the sky, and Dave was rustling about in the kitchen, when Tom woke on the sofa. He threw back the afghan and sat up.

“Hey, good timing,” Dave said. “I’ll let you make the coffee.”

Finger-combing his hair, Tom yawned as he walked toward Dave. “Julie’s coming home today.”

“You talked to Julie again?” Dave handed Tom the coffee pot and stepped aside.

“She called a few hours ago. She doesn’t want a divorce.”

“That’s great, man. I told you she didn’t really mean what she said.” A crash of thunder heralded the start of a downpour. “Looks like I’m not going to miss any fishing by going home today.”

Later, at breakfast, Tom announced that he’d be picking up Julie at the airport that evening. “I’ll bring her back here for the rest of the weekend.”

Lindsay cast him a sly look. “Well, Eric and I were leaving anyway because we both have to work tonight, so I’ll take Uncle Dave to the airport and save you making the trip twice in one day.

“Thanks, Lindsay,” Dave said.

Tom forced a smile. Lindsay thought Patricia was the only problem between her parents. If only it were that easy.

By noon the storm had diminished to a steady drizzle. When Lindsay and Eric ran for the shelter of his car, Dave held back. “Don’t leave me hanging. Let me know how it goes between you and Julie.”