Oceans Apart (30 page)

“C’mere, friend. I think you need a hug.” Their hug stirred warm memories—but nothing more.

“Thanks, Bobby. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” He pulled back. “What is it you want, Michele? Have you thought about it?”

“Yes.” She searched his eyes, grateful for the chance to consider the question. “I want to call Connor and tell him I love him.” He did a slow nod. His expression held no disappointment.

“Then go. I’ll be out here if you need to talk.” For the first time in days, Michele’s smile felt genuine. “You’re still a great listener, Bobby.”

“My pleasure.” He gave her a mock bow. “Anything for an old friend.”

Michele crept inside unnoticed, slipped into the guest room, and used her sister’s phone to place the call. Connor had his cell phone, but she hadn’t called once since the trip began. Now it was Thursday night.

She hadn’t realized until now just how much she missed Connor. Funny, too, because Connor often was gone longer than three days in the course of flying. But she always knew they’d be together again soon.

231

– Oceans Apart –

This time . . . she wasn’t sure.

The number came easily, and after three rings Michele heard a click. “Hello?”

It was Elizabeth. An ache spread across Michele’s chest, and she closed her eyes, imagining her oldest daughter sitting with the others around a campfire. “Hi, honey. It’s Mommy.”

“Mommy!” Elizabeth’s voice faded some. “Hey, guys, it’s Mom!” She paused. “We miss you so much . . . and we’re having such a good time. You should be here, Mommy, can you come? Can you?” The rush of words left Michele speechless for a moment. She allowed a gentle laugh. “I’m a long ways away, sweetheart. But I miss you, too.” Michele bit her lip, not sure she wanted to ask.

“How’s it going with Max?”

“Great!” Elizabeth’s tone held an unreserved happiness. Nothing like the doubt that had plagued her before the trip.

“That’s good.” Michele hated the way her heart sank at the report. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, the first day we helped him with his sleeping bag because he didn’t know about the zipper and he had the middle spot and we had the room near the front door, so we helped him. And the next morning we made blueberry pancakes and you won’t believe it, Mom. That’s Max’s favorite kind!” She barely took a breath. “And that day we showed him how to fish, only he didn’t catch a big one until yesterday, and he and Daddy reeled it in together and we ate it for dinner, and everyone told him it was the best fish of the trip so far. Oh, and I forgot about yesterday when we went swimming and Max is the best swimmer, Mom. Even better than me and Susan because . . .”

Michele tuned out the rest of the report. Connor and Max caught the best fish of the trip? The image turned her stomach.

Why had she called in the first place? After another minute of Elizabeth’s report, Michele cut in.

232

– Karen Kingsbury –

“Honey, is Daddy there?”

“Oh.” She made a quick giggling sound. “Sure, Mom. Here he is.” As the phone was passed, Michele heard voices in the background. Susan was singing, and a boy’s voice—obviously Max’s—

was joining her at full volume.

Connor came on. “Hey, just a minute. I’m going to move over by the tent so I can hear.” A few moments passed. “Okay. There.” He breathed in. “How are you?”

“Fine.” She could hear the bitterness in her tone, but she was helpless to do anything about it. “Just thought I’d see how the trip was going.”

“It’s good.” His voice was light and cheery. Didn’t he feel any of the emotional turmoil that haunted her every waking moment? “I wish you were here.”

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead in her free hand.

The small talk was killing her. “Sounds like you’re having a good time.”

“We are.” He hesitated. “Max is getting along great with the girls.”

“That’s what Elizabeth said.”

“He’s a great kid, Michele. If you were here, you might think so yourself.”

“Connor.” She wanted to scream at him. “I didn’t call for a glowing report about the boy.”

“His name is Max.”

Something in her husband’s tone—something almost steely—

caught her short and made her heart skip a beat. What had happened in the past three days? Was the connection between father and son already so strong that Connor felt the need to defend the boy to her? She held her breath and waited until her heartbeat resumed. Then she gritted her teeth and found her voice. “I know his name, Connor.”

233

– Oceans Apart –

“You’re always calling him ‘the boy,’ that’s all.” His words were gentle again. “Maybe it would help if you called him Max.”

“Help what?” Anger stirred. This wasn’t at all how she’d expected the call to go.

“Help you accept him.” A long silence followed. “Michele, I think we should consider keeping him. He’s . . . he’s a great kid, and he needs a home.” He paused. “How can we turn him away?” Her eyes flew open and she was on her feet, pacing the length of the room. “Do you
hear
yourself, Connor?” Her voice rose a level.

“I thought I made myself clear before I left. I can’t bring the son of some floozy flight attendant into my home. I’ll think of your . . .

your backstreet affair every time I see him!”

“First of all”—Connor was angry now, his words a study in controlled fury—“she wasn’t a floozy. And second, it wasn’t a backstreet affair. It was wrong, but until you let me explain myself you won’t understand how it happened.”

Michele’s head was spinning, and she thought she might faint.

“Connor . . .” She sat on the edge of the bed. It took all her energy to finish her sentence. “You’re defending her to me?”

“Michele, you don’t understand.” The anger was gone, and in its place, Connor sounded defeated.

“No, I don’t.” She massaged her fingertips into her brow. “I need to go.”

“We just started talking.”

“I can’t think of anything else to say.”

“Michele . . . don’t do this.”

“Good-bye, Connor. I’ll call you some other time.”

“You’re coming home Saturday, right?” He sounded resigned to the fact that they weren’t going to get any further tonight. “Same as us?”

“Actually—” Her voice cracked. Her throat was thick, and she waited a moment to find her voice. “I think I’ll stay a few more days. I don’t know. I’ll be in touch.”

234

– Karen Kingsbury –

“Time away isn’t going to make any of this any—”

“Connor.” She was exhausted, unable to take any more of his pleading. “I’ll call you later.”

She hung up without saying any of the things she’d planned to say. Without asking him to tell the girls she was thinking about them, without telling him how badly she missed them, and without doing the one thing she’d set out to do.

Tell him she still loved him.

The receiver was still in her hand. She lay back on the bed and brought her arm up over her eyes. Okay, so he had feelings for the boy. Couldn’t he have waited until they were together again to let her know? Did he have to take over the conversation right from the beginning, going on about how great the child was, how well he was getting along with the girls?

She sat up and looked around the room until her eyes fell on her purse, hanging from the back of the door handle. An idea hit her, and though she felt a decade older than she had an hour ago, she struggled to her feet, took the purse, and found the address book in the side pocket.

Connor would’ve hated the idea of her calling him. But in that moment, nothing could have made the possibility more intriguing.

She thumbed through the tiny pages until she reached the
E
section, and there it was.

Loren Evans.

She sniffed and dabbed at her tears once more. Then she dialed the number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Loren?” Her tone held none of the sorrow she was feeling. “Hi, it’s Michele.”

“Why, Michele . . .” His voice filled the phone line, rich and full.

She could almost see his smile. “How are you, little girl?” 235

– Oceans Apart –

It’d been six months since she’d called the man, but years since they’d seen each other.
Don’t let him guess why I’m here, God . . .

please.
“Hey, I’m in Santa Barbara visiting Margie.” Her father-in-law was quiet for a moment. “Brought the whole family?”

“No.” She knew her response would come as a relief. Loren would’ve wanted to see the girls, but certainly not Connor. “I’m by myself.” She clicked her fingernails together. “I was thinking about coming by tomorrow, if you’re not busy.”

“No, ma’am.” His chuckle stirred memories of the past. “Not too busy for my favorite daughter-in-law. What time you want to come?”

“After lunch. Say, two o’clock?”

“Great.” He stopped. “Everything okay, Michele? You sound upset.”

She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. That was the exact response she had hoped to get from Connor a few minutes ago.

“I’m okay, Loren.” She tightened her grip on the receiver and managed to sound believable. “We can catch up tomorrow.”

“Okay then. Two o’clock it is.”

They hung up, and Michele replaced the receiver on its base.

As she slipped her address book back in her purse, she shook her head. What was she doing? What good could come from spending an hour with Connor’s father? It wasn’t as if the man had any influence on his son, not anymore. She lay back on the bed again and analyzed her motives for several minutes.

The reason wasn’t all that complicated really. Loren Evans represented a part of her past, the part that was honest and real and before her husband’s affair. Maybe by spending time with the old man, she could figure out what to do next.

She thought about her sister’s party a few rooms away, and Bobby, who was probably waiting for her. But she couldn’t face any of them. She changed into her sweats and a T-shirt, brushed her 236

– Karen Kingsbury –

teeth, and climbed into bed. Before she fell asleep, she thought about her faith, the faith she and Connor had always shared.

It had grown dusty in recent years, no doubt. People wanted their hair cut on Saturdays, and that left only Sundays to run errands and prepare for the coming week. Their combined schedules made church attendance a hit-and-miss event at best. Elizabeth and Susan barely knew their Sunday school teachers, and it had been years since Michele and Connor had offered to help out with one of their classes.

How much softer would the blow of Connor’s affair have been if she’d been more connected with the Lord? Would forgiveness have come easier, sooner? She let her thoughts drift, and they landed on a memory from last summer. One of the secretaries at church had called and asked if they still wanted their names on the church registry.

“Of course.” She’d given the woman a nervous laugh. “We’ve been members forever.”

“Good.” The woman’s voice was tender. “We haven’t seen you around and we thought we’d ask. I’m glad nothing’s changed.” But something had changed, hadn’t it?

Connor had cheated on her, and buried the truth for all those years. No wonder he chose yard work instead of church so many Sundays. The guilt probably made being in church just about unbearable.

But what about her? Had she known in the center of her being somehow that Connor had cheated on her, that what they shared wasn’t as wonderful as it felt or appeared? She thought about that, and the answer came easily.

No, she hadn’t known at all. Not on the surface, and not in the deepest places of her heart. She trusted Connor without reservation, holding nothing back in the way she loved and believed in him. But maybe if she’d been closer to God she would’ve seen the 237

– Oceans Apart –

truth for what it was. Maybe she would’ve asked more questions about his time in LA or the stormy night when he couldn’t call home because he was stuck in Honolulu.

A sigh lifted from the basement of her soul and made its way through her teeth. “Why, God . . . why did we drift?” Her voice was a whisper even she had trouble hearing. “And how are we supposed to find our way back from here?”

She waited for some type of response, but the only sound was the distant party banter.

“God . . . only one thing will save our marriage now.” She spoke the words aloud again. They seemed more real that way, more heartfelt. “Please, God . . . find a home for the boy. He needs to be out of our lives, the sooner the better. Please, God.” It would take years to ease the pain of what Connor had done to her. A hundred years to forget it. And if the boy lived with them? The healing would never come, never. It wasn’t just the affair, of course. It was the fact that the woman had given Connor the son he’d always wanted. And worst of all, that Connor had lied to her. His deceit had robbed her of even the sweetest memories, because everything about the past looked tainted in light of the lie Connor had carried with him.

As Michele fell asleep she thought about the extent of the damage, the sum of the disaster he’d wreaked on their lives.

Every I love you, every kind word, every happy moment.

All of it was suspect now.

Despite her talk with God, Michele was restless that night. Several times she woke up in tears, and thought about her family and the camping trip they were enjoying with the boy. No question that with him in the picture, their marriage would never work. But unless someone stepped forward to adopt him, Connor wasn’t about to let him go. And that was the saddest thing of all. Because of the boy, Connor hadn’t only robbed her of her past.

He’d stolen her future as well.

238