Promises to Keep (28 page)

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Authors: Char Chaffin

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BOOK: Promises to Keep
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He caught her hand and pulled her close, caressed her cheek. Leaned in and brushed his mouth to hers. “And I just can’t see it.”

She nodded. “Now you know how I feel. Where do we go from here?”

“Well, a fast marriage at City Hall is still an option, but I agree with you. It won’t stop my mother. It’s obvious she’ll try ruining life as I know it, unless I fall in with her plans. Since that’s not going to happen, I guess you’re stuck with me.” With Hank curled into his side, he slipped his free arm around Annie and completed the circle, holding them both close. “My mother will do what she wants, and we can’t change it. So maybe we should plan that wedding, the way you’ve dreamed. And then go to Roanoke.”

After a speechless few seconds, she pressed her cheek to his in the sweet gesture he’d always adored. “My aunt Nan will love you.”

Travis squeezed her tightly. He wanted to be alone with her, though he knew it was selfish of him. He should get down on his knees and thank God he’d been given a second chance. But oh, he needed her. He wanted to make love to her. It had been so long. He struggled to put his desires aside for a while longer, and instead basked in the wonder of holding his family.

Susan suddenly burst through the open doorway of the bedroom, interrupting their quiet moment. Worry flared in her eyes.

“Annie, you’d better get downstairs. There’s some creepy guy in a suit on the front porch, asking for you. He’s got a big manila envelope in his hand. Mama thinks it might be a subpoena. It’s got your name on it.”

 

Ruth leaned back in her chair and watched Jenny and Bette dismantle the contents of the dining room table. Watched them remove the remnants of smoked salmon and grilled crab cakes dripping with tangy horseradish sauce, which her party guests raved over. She had served artfully arranged crudités, select cheeses from around the world, crackers and assorted snacks.

A dizzying variety of sweet and savory graced her expansive buffet. Everything a tasteful birthday celebration needed to be a smashing success, all displayed around the three-tiered masterpiece of a birthday cake. The design crew from Newport, who’d decorated the downstairs rooms and the more informal patio area, outdid themselves. Her party guests exclaimed in rapture over the food, the cake, and the atmosphere.

She did it all for her son. Ruth spent a small fortune to make this birthday memorable for him. She hired a jazz ensemble instead of the small, classically trained orchestra she’d first leaned toward. Personally, she thought jazz music sounded like discordant noise, but Catherine assured her the party guests would love it.

And they had. She heard many compliments as the young people enthusiastically indulged in dancing. Dear Catherine had been right. She would make the most splendid daughter-in-law. Ruth allowed herself a brief, sentimental smile.

Then her smile faded as she rose to her feet and walked stiffly from the dining room. She couldn’t sit still any longer. Not when there was so much anger and fury whipping through her body, it was a wonder her hair didn’t stand straight on end.

She’d made Travis’s birthday party a true event. Except it wasn’t much of a birthday party.

Because the birthday boy hadn’t bothered to attend.

At first, she didn’t believe it. She fully expected Travis to walk through the door in plenty of time for his own party. She’d welcomed the early arrival of Janice and Catherine, such a great help with the final preparations. Catherine looked sweetly young in a sundress of palest blue, with a heart-shaped bodice and thin straps crisscrossing over her shoulders, the full skirt falling to just above her knees. She’d swept her long blond hair to one side and had applied a tasteful amount of eye makeup. The Cabot pearls glowed around her slender neck and the matching pearl bracelet played up the delicacy of her wrist.

Ruth could hardly wait to see Travis slip the diamond and pearl Quincy betrothal ring onto Catherine’s finger. It would look perfect against the lovely bracelet she wore.

She’d planned for this union. Yearned for it. She’d contacted the jazz ensemble in advance of the party and asked for as much romantic music as possible to be included in their repertoire. She’d ordered extra champagne for toasting the newly engaged couple.

As the hour of the party loomed closer, however, her anxiety became hot anger. She knew where her rebellious son was: on the dirty side of town, with those accursed Turners.

He didn’t come home, didn’t call. Nothing. To be fair, she’d provoked him with her parting shot three days ago when she’d swept out of that tacky, run-down house. And she kept her promise, had contacted her attorneys as soon as she arrived back at Quincy Hall. Ruth began immediate subpoena proceedings and her attorneys promised to serve within the week, directly to Annie Turner.

But foolishly she expected Travis to return home, to understand and accept his duties as the future Quincy Heir and to put aside his childishness. She never thought he would continue to act so contrarily. It was the ultimate betrayal.

When one guest after another inquired after Travis, her quickly contrived excuse—about him having to run back to New Haven concerning Yale-related business—had been easily accepted.

One fib after another emerged. No, it was sudden. Yes, it was important, but he hoped to make it back in time for the party. But in case he didn’t, Travis asked her to offer his apologies to his guests and for them to carry on. Have a wonderful time in his name. Saving face was vital, and she’d accomplished it. No one guessed how she’d seethed in fury beneath the social mask she wore.

“Mrs. Quincy?” Catherine’s soft voice intruded on her dark thoughts, and Ruth hastily composed her features before turning and smiling at her standing beside the dining room table. Poor child, Travis humiliated her this evening. It would never happen again, she promised herself.

She drew on her innate poise and approached Catherine, placing an arm about her shoulders. With effort, Ruth kept her anger in check. “I am so sorry, my dear child. I don’t always understand my son. I apologize for his insensitivity and his lack of decency in not attending his own party.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Quincy. Really, it is. I just wanted to ask you if there was anything else Mother and I could do for you before we leave. I’m driving back to New Haven in a few days and I have more packing to do—”

“But Catherine,” Ruth felt a resurgence of her earlier panic. “My dear, you must stay here in Thompkin. I feel certain once Travis understands the gravity of the injustice he has done to you, he’ll be quite remorseful and present his proposal.”

Catherine moved away, dislodging Ruth’s arm. She stepped back toward the wide archway of the front foyer. Her smile held, calm and steady as ever, but her lovely eyes showed pain. Ruth held out her hands, wanting to comfort the darling girl, but Catherine’s next statement stopped her cold.

“No. Travis won’t offer for me, Mrs. Quincy. And even if he did, for any reason at all, I wouldn’t accept him. I don’t want to marry your son.”

Ruth didn’t think she’d heard right, and she regarded Catherine in shock. Not marry Travis? Not become her cherished daughter-in-law, the mother of her grandchildren? She sputtered, “What sort of nonsense is this?”

“It’s not nonsense, ma’am.” Catherine remained polite, but firm, as she clasped her hands at her waist, ever the perfect young lady. “I will always consider Travis my very good friend. I will always care about him. But there will be no marriage. Please, let it go.”

“Let
what
go? Cathy, what insanity are you spouting now?” Janice bustled into the dining room, her heels clicking with each step. Ruth sighed in relief. Her dearest friend would help her. Janice would convince her daughter to have patience. Fortitude.

Taking Catherine’s shoulders in a strong grip, Janice spun her around. “Why would you say such a thing, Cathy? You’re not going back to New Haven. Why, it’s weeks until you need to leave. Explain yourself, immediately. After all Ruth has done for you, I don’t understand your mindset.”

“No, neither of you do, and it looks as if you never will!” Catherine wrenched away from her mother and faced them both. Tears formed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. In a splintered voice, she pleaded, “Why can’t you see the truth, for once? I am not meant for Travis. I never was. You have pushed us together and interfered, until I’m the last person on earth he’d ever want to be in the same room with.”

She dashed tears from her cheeks. “Travis is engaged to Annie Turner. They have a child together. Yes, they do,” she affirmed, as her mother exclaimed in distress. “If he marries anyone, it will be the mother of his child. Now, I’m telling you to let it go. Or else the relationship I have with both of you will be severely damaged.” Without another word, she whirled and sped to the wide double doors, one of which was partially open. It swung shut behind her.

Janice turned, shock still apparent on her face, and queried shakily, “Ruth?”

Chapter 27
 

“Are you sure you don’t mind me going? I can put it off.” Travis stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as Annie fed Hank his cereal and bananas. In a feisty mood, his son alternately took his meal like a sweet angel, and then grabbed cereal off his rubber-coated spoon and flung it about. Consequently, bits of oatmeal clung to her tee shirt, her hair, and even her nose, which she wiped at with a sigh.

She put the dish and spoon down and turned to offer him a reassuring, if harried, smile. “Go ahead. He’ll settle down and take his nap soon. If you don’t take care of this now, it’ll be too easy to procrastinate, and you can’t afford to delay it.”

Travis nodded and slung the backpack over his shoulder. He would spend the day in New Haven and clear out as much as he could from the apartment he’d once lived in. If he had time and Yale’s business office was open, he’d request copies of all his transcripts. Sooner or later he’d have to transfer to another college. He refused to feel bitter.

He could load a lot into the trunk of his Beemer. Might as well take advantage of having it, since he expected his mother to pull the keys out from under him any day now.

He stepped into the kitchen and, avoiding his son’s sticky, outthrust hands, pressed a kiss to Hank’s forehead. When he turned to kiss Annie, what started out as warm and innocent turned deep and sensuous in a hurry, and he scooped her into his arms. They kissed endlessly, while Hank babbled to himself and played with the oatmeal on his fingers.

Breathless, leaning his forehead against hers, Travis groaned, “You know I love staying here, but it’s sure hard finding time to be alone with you. I wish you’d come with me.” He whispered seductively, “We could use the bed in the apartment.” She shivered against his lips as they trailed over her neck.

They’d only gotten one opportunity to be together since he moved in, their lovemaking hurried and a bit shy and hesitant. Two years had passed since the last time they’d made love, the result being Hank’s birth. But the rest of the family was absent one afternoon, by design or coincidence, they’d never be sure. So they’d tiptoed into Travis’s room, after Hank went down for his nap. They’d left the doors open in case he awoke, and they took advantage of what time they could snatch.

Travis’s hands trembled as he undressed Annie, and her fingers hadn’t been much steadier. For the first time in his life, he’d worn a condom. He’d worried about the right size, the right texture, and how resilient the latex rings truly were. He’d rolled it on without tearing it, and he must have gotten the correct size because it stayed in place. Then all of his worry faded away once he pressed Annie beneath his overheated body in the lumpy old bed. Those two years of abstinence melted away as if they were nothing.

Now, the need for her always present, he tried to persuade her. “Annie? Why don’t you pack a few things for Hank? We could make a day of it, just the three of us.”

She uttered a regretful moan of her own. “I can’t. Not with everything going on around here.” Sissy awoke early that morning with cramps, which became contractions as soon as her water broke while she sat at the kitchen table. Since she was almost three weeks early, Mark fell apart. Mary calmed him down, gathered everyone up, including an overnight bag for Sissy, and got them to the hospital. Susan went along for moral support and Henry even spent ten minutes at the hospital, before he had to rush off to work.

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