Loving Laura (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy) (26 page)

If only he thought she didn’t care. He could handle his own misery. What was tearing him apart was thinking about the possibility she was feeling the same way.

She’d get over him. Once he was gone, she’d eventually forget him. Even though she didn’t love Norman, she would meet someone else. Someone who could give her that secure family life she craved. Someone who could build that golden circle around her. All Neil could give her would be a life where they’d both feel guilty—a life apart from his family and all the things that were so important to both of them. A life full of too much darkness, something they’d both endured enough of.

So why did the idea of someone else loving her make him feel so terrible? That was what he wanted for her, wasn’t it?

Laura.
Neil closed his eyes, swallowing against the tightening in his throat. Right now, right this minute, she was downstairs. All he had to do was open the door, go down the steps, and open the office door, and he would see her. He could picture her sitting at the desk, her silken hair falling forward, partially hiding her face, the way her lower lip jutted out, the delicacy of her slender hands as they turned the pages of the general ledger.

Gritting his teeth, he yanked open the door and barreled down the steps, taking them two at a time. He didn’t look into the office when he passed the door. He kept right on going, over to the truck he’d been using. He opened the door, jumped in, cranked the ignition to life, and drove out of the parking lot like a man possessed.

* * *

Dear God, please help me get through this night.
Laura whispered the prayer over and over as she turned off the ignition, picked up her purse, slid from the seat of her car, and stood outside the Cantrelle home in the balmy evening air.

She took several deep breaths. She had to be calm. She had to be cool. She had to acquit herself with dignity tonight. Looking around, she saw that there were already at least a dozen cars at the Cantrelle home. She could hear the rollicking lilt of zydeco music coming from the open windows of the brightly lighted house. The party seemed to be in full swing.

As she walked down the gravel drive toward the house, the sweet scent of Arlette’s climbing roses surrounded her. Laura stopped for a minute, closing her eyes and breathing in their fragrance.

Suddenly she was aware of the acrid smell of cigarette smoke coming from the darkness at the side of the house, and she saw the glowing tip as someone raised the cigarette to his mouth. She squinted into the darkness.

“Hello, Laura.” Neil stepped out of the shadows.

Her heart stopped, and she felt hot and cold all at once. “Neil,” she said, the word coming out like a croak. “I...I didn’t know you smoked.” She knew that he must think she was nuts. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, and now all she could think to say was she didn’t know he smoked.

He made a sound that might have been an attempt at a laugh but fell far short. “I don’t.”

She didn’t even try to answer. She stood there just beyond the reach of the circle of light shining from the big picture window and pooling on the sidewalk. Neil walked toward her, and her brain took note of his appearance: his dark dress pants—they must be new, she’d never seen them before—his open-necked white shirt, his glossy dark hair which still looked untamed even though it was obvious he’d made an effort to comb it neatly, his strong features set in serious lines.

Her heart began to beat again, an erratic tap dance she was sure must be causing her chest to bob up and down like a punch-drunk fighter.

“I was just on my way inside,” she said.
Stupid. Stupid.

“Yes.” He stopped only inches from her. She could smell his unique scent: a blend of body musk, spicy after-shave, and now the lingering odor of cigarette smoke. He seemed tense, his body poised and alert, as if he were waiting for something. His eyes raked her, settling on her face. They glowed with some inner emotion she couldn’t identify.

For a minute she had the wild idea that he was going to say something that would make everything okay again. But the moment passed and all he said was, “I’ll walk in with you.”

Seconds later she was inside the too-warm room, surrounded by the pounding rhythm of the music. People swarmed around her, their excited voices welcoming.

“
Chére,
we are glad you could come tonight,” said Réne, dark eyes aglow. “It is so nice to have everyone gathered together again, no?”

“Laura! You’re finally here!” This lively greeting came from Denise, whose face was flushed as she leaned into Jett’s embrace. He grinned and captured her mouth in an exuberant kiss.

Envy pierced Laura at the sight of their loving exchange. What she wouldn’t give to be able to show her feelings so openly, in front of Neil’s assembled family and friends. She knew Neil was still behind her. She could feel him, his dark eyes, his brooding presence. Was he as unhappy as she was?

“Oh, Laura, you look so pretty tonight!” Nicole said as she walked up to her and grabbed her hands. “I love that dress. And the color! It’s exactly the shade of your eyes. Doesn’t she look great, Neil?”

“Yes, beautiful.”

She felt his warm breath against her neck, and a delicate tremor, like the touch of a feather, whispered over her skin.

Then Norman joined the group, and coming on his heels, Alice, who looked wonderful tonight, Laura thought, in a bright red dress with a deep V neckline. Her short, bouncy blond curls were tied away from her face with a red ribbon. “Hi, Laura,” she said. “I’ve been trying to persuade Norman to dance with me.”

Norman blushed as he met Laura’s eyes. “I can’t dance.”

“You can slow dance,” Alice said with a twinkle in her eye. “It doesn’t take fancy footwork to slow dance. All you have to do is cuddle up close to your partner.”

Laura wished she had Alice’s ability to tease and be lighthearted.
But she’s not riddled with guilt and misery.

“You dance with the pretty girl, Neil,” said Réne. When Neil didn’t immediately respond, Réne rolled his eyes and grabbed Alice, swinging her out among the other dancing couples. “Somethin’ is wrong with my sons, they don’ want to hold a beautiful girl close!” he declared.

Norman took Laura’s arm and led her off. She wondered where Neil went, for he didn’t follow them, but she wouldn’t let herself look. For the next two hours, Laura was acutely aware of Neil, although he always seemed to be as far away from her as it was possible to be. She talked to everyone, forced herself to eat even though food was the last thing on her mind that night, drank a little iced tea, and refused to dance, even when Jett tried to pull her to her feet.

“I don’t dance,” she insisted. She knew she should make an attempt to join the gaiety, but she couldn’t. Not even for Norman could she pretend to be happy. She felt numb, the knowledge that tomorrow Neil would be gone turning the blood in her veins to ice. Even though the room was very hot, Laura felt colder and colder as the night wore on. Once she shivered, and Norman, who had barely left her side all night, said, “You can’t be cold!” He fanned himself. “It’s hotter than hell in here.”

“I’m fine,” Laura said automatically, but she shivered again.

Neil was standing talking to a beautiful dark-haired girl, and Laura felt as if someone had put a stone in her chest. As much as she dreaded his going, she knew she could never handle watching him with other women, so it was probably best that she wouldn’t have to after tonight.

“I don’t think you
are
fine,” Norman said. “There’s no color in your face.”

“Maybe it’s something I ate,” she improvised. “I just felt dizzy for a few seconds, that’s all.” For once she wasn’t irritated by Norman’s solicitous attitude. Maybe now she could leave without him protesting. He’d never expect her to stay if she wasn’t feeling well. “In fact, I
am
chilled, and my head hurts. I think maybe I’d better go home and go to bed.”

“That’s a good idea. Wait here.” Before she realized what he was doing, he levered himself up from the couch and walked away. A few minutes later he was back, leading Neil by the arm. “Would you take Laura home, Neil? She’s not feeling well.”

Laura’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what Neil was feeling because his face was closed, his eyes shuttered. Gathering her wits about her, she said, “That’s ridiculous. I’m perfectly fine. I can see myself home.”

Norman’s jaw settled into a stubborn line. “I’d take you home myself, but it’ll be weeks before I can manage driving.”

Oh, no. “Please, Norman...” She couldn’t be alone with Neil. Not tonight. “This is silly. I’ve got my own car. I’ll be fine.”

“At least let Neil follow you. I don’t want you driving by yourself. What if you get dizzy again?” Norman argued reasonably.

People were starting to look at them. Laura knew if she continued protesting, she’d call even more attention to herself. She looked at Neil. He shrugged.

Great, she thought. “Fine,” she snapped, irritated with both brothers. Irritated with herself. “If he wants to waste his time, it’s okay with me. Will you tell everyone why I left, Norman?” She looked around, found her purse, slung it over her arm, and after giving Norman a hasty peck on the cheek, she elbowed her way through the crowd toward the front door.

“Are you leaving?” said Alice, who had just finished an energetic dance with a good-looking redhead that Laura vaguely remembered as being one of the Cantrelle cousins.

She nodded. “I’m not feeling well.” She didn’t meet Alice’s eyes. She didn’t want to know what Alice thought.

Somehow she made it out the door. Ignoring Neil behind her, she walked rapidly down the walk and up the drive. Gravel crunched under their feet as Neil followed her. Laura’s heart was thumping against her chest wall.
Please, God. Please, God.
It was a silent litany, an almost incoherent plea, for what, she wasn’t sure. She fastened her gaze on her Honda.

It seemed to take forever to reach its safe haven, but finally she was unlocking her door. She still hadn’t looked at Neil or spoken to him, but she knew he was only inches away. Her entire body felt frozen. She grasped her door handle, her hands like giant stumps. Taking a deep breath, she turned and lifted her head. Her eyes met Neil’s. “This really is stupid. There’s nothing wrong with me. I said I wasn’t feeling well because I wanted to get out of there. You don’t have to accompany me.”

“It would look funny if I didn’t since I said I would,” he said quietly.

There was no use fighting it any longer. So she allowed him to help her into the car, closing her eyes at the touch of his warm hand on her arm. He shut her door firmly and walked toward the company truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway.

As she drove toward her apartment, her brain was on automatic pilot. Over and over she told herself that soon she could escape. In minutes, she’d be home. She would say a quick goodbye, shake his hand, wish him luck. She
would
do it. She wouldn’t break down. She wouldn’t say anything she shouldn’t say. Then she would go inside. Once inside, if she wanted to scream and cry, she could. But not in front of Neil.

“Not in front of Neil,” she whispered. “Hold on until he leaves.”

She pulled into the driveway of the duplex, her actions mechanical. Shut off the ignition. Shut off the headlights. Open the door. Close the door. Walk around the back of the car. Stop. Wait for Neil.

Neil, who had pulled in behind her, opened the door and climbed down from the truck. He walked toward her. When he reached her, she stuck her right hand out quickly. “Goodbye, Neil. Good luck.”

“Let’s go up there,” he said, tilting his head toward the porch.

Laura dropped her hand. Woodenly, she walked to the porch and climbed the steps. The porch was dark. She had forgotten to leave the porch light on, and obviously, so had Denise. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Laura stared at her feet. Her entire body was numb. Her mind was numb. Her heart was numb.

“Laura...” He touched her chin, lifted her face gently.

“Please go,” she whispered, closing her eyes. A breeze set her wind chimes to ringing, and the sound tore at Laura’s heart, reminding her of the day Neil compared the sound of her laughter to the sound the wind chimes made.

Tears burned her eyelids, clogged her throat. Her hold on her emotions was so tenuous, she was afraid to speak.

“Laura,” he said again, his thumb rubbing her chin. “I wish things could have been different. I never meant to hurt you.”

A tremor slid down her spine, and she clamped her teeth together to keep them from rattling.
Go. Go. Go. Go.
She couldn’t have spoken aloud if her life had depended on it. She whirled around, fumbled for her keys.
I have to get inside. I have to get inside.

“Oh, God, Laura.” The words sounded as if they were being ripped from his throat, and suddenly he was folding her into his embrace, holding her close against his heart, burying his face in her hair, and Laura’s heart was thundering like a herd of wild horses. The keys slipped through her nerveless fingers and clattered to the porch.

She began to cry, great wrenching sobs she couldn’t stop. His arms tightened around her, and then he was kissing her, a kiss filled with desperation and hopelessness and pain. Laura clung to him, tasting the salt of her tears on his tongue.

They finally broke apart, and his voice, when he spoke, hardly sounded like him. “Oh, Laura, I’m sorry.”

Tears still rolled unchecked down her face. She couldn’t speak. Now she wished for the numbness, but it was gone. Every part of her throbbed with pain—like a great, open wound. She had to get away from him. If she didn’t, she might weaken. She might tell him. And she had decided days ago that she wouldn’t do that. She didn’t want Neil out of a sense of honor. She wanted him to come to her freely, because he loved her, and because he felt it was the right thing to do.

Somewhere she found the strength to stop her tears. “I have to go in. Goodbye.”

She didn’t look at him again. She bent down, picked up her keys, opened her door. Blindly, she walked in, shutting the door behind her. It was dark inside, and she felt the cats rubbing against her ankles. She stared straight ahead. She heard Neil walk across the porch, heard his footsteps slowly go down the front steps, heard him start the truck.