This Matter Of Marriage (16 page)

Hallie reached for her purse and rooted around for a tissue. “Besides Dad, I've been thinking about Gregg. I should have married him. In the back of my mind I knew it then, but I was too…stubborn to realize that I
wanted
what he was offering.”

“Gregg Honeycutt? But I thought the two of you broke up years ago.”

“We did. He wanted to get married and I didn't.” She paused long enough to blow her nose. “Quite a switch, isn't it? The guy being the one who wants to marry. I'd taken out a huge loan to get Artistic License up and operating, and I refused to allow my personal life to get in the way of business.”

“You think you should've married Gregg?” Donnalee asked, sounding skeptical.

“Oh, I don't know.” Hallie sighed deeply. “My hindsight isn't as clear as I'd like it to be. He was so wonderful and I loved him, I really did.” She paused and added, “But apparently not enough.”

“What makes you think about Gregg now?”

Hallie wasn't sure. At Christmas she'd received a photo card of Gregg, his wife and their two small children. He looked happy, really happy, and so did his wife. After her weekend with Ellen, Hallie's feelings about wanting a family of her own had grown even stronger and more certain. It was because of this, she supposed, that Gregg's family photo had come to mind. She'd even mentally replaced his wife's image with her own—but only for a moment.

“It's like this huge hole opened up inside me,” she confessed, twisting the damp tissue around her index finger. “I first noticed it after my dad died, and that hole has gotten bigger and bigger ever since.”

“Is that why you decided to marry?”

The tissue around her finger grew tighter and tighter. “Yes. Last weekend with Ellen was crazy, but you know what? I loved it. By the time Julie and Jason arrived, I was hooked on motherhood and I didn't want to let her go.”

“You didn't?”

“Oh, I made it sound like it was one disaster after another, but it wasn't. On Sunday Steve brought over some ointment to numb her gums, and after that, Ellen was a jewel. I know now that I could deal with the sleepless nights and hard times—because I know it's worth it.” She drew a shaky breath. “Rita's been telling me for a long time that when it comes to finding a husband I'm too picky. I laughed her off, but you know what? I'm beginning to think she's right.”

This appeared to surprise Donnalee.

“Not that I wouldn't still be discriminating. I mean, a few years back I might have married someone like Mark. I wouldn't have had the maturity to know otherwise. But I do now.” Drawing another shaky breath, she added, “And now there's Larry. I really don't know how I feel about him. He's sweet, but…oh, I can't imagine being married to him.”

“Come on, Hallie, stop fretting and let's enjoy our weekend.”

“You're right.” Hallie said, determined to take Donnalee's advice. While she was plagued with doubts about the status of her relationship with Larry, it didn't compare to what Donnalee was going through.

Word had gotten back to her that Sanford was dating again. Some so-called friend had taken delight in filling her in on the particulars. Shortly afterward, Hallie and Donnalee had arranged this getaway, and Hallie figured Donnalee needed it even more than she did.

Hallie had been a bit concerned about the cost, but on reflection realized she had very little to worry about. Her taxes were paid, her head was above water, she had plenty of work coming in. If she had to shop at Wal-Mart for Christmas, her family would understand.

The hotel deserved every one of those tiny stars listed in the tourist guide. It came complete with little chocolates on the pillow at night, plush bathrobes, perfumed lotion, plus a sauna and exercise room. Not that either one of them needed exercise after three hours of shopping.

Hallie's shoulders ached from hauling packages around, but they soon found a cure for that—the hotel masseuse. Never having experienced the delights of a massage, Hallie was apprehensive, but the woman put her at ease immediately. An hour later Hallie felt as relaxed as a wet noodle, not sure whether she wanted to crawl into bed or bound out to face the world. A facial followed, and then a manicure.

They dressed for dinner in short skirts with dark hose and ate in the revolving restaurant atop the hotel. Anything they'd saved shopping with a thirty-five percent discount, thanks to the Canadian dollar, they splurged on a bottle of Dom Pérignon—certainly the most expensive champagne Hallie'd ever had.

The night was lovely. Vancouver spread out before them, a panoply of twinkling lights. Hallie didn't know if it was the beauty of their surroundings or the shopping or the effect of having her body deliciously pummeled, but she felt rejuvenated—and surprisingly happy.

“It's like we're celebrating,” she said. Although there was little evidence that she was any closer to achieving her goal now than when she'd started, she felt a sense of anticipation, of renewed energy.

“We
are
celebrating,” Donnalee said, holding up the crystal flute. “To us. And to our future husbands, whoever they may be.”

“To our future husbands,” Hallie returned as they touched glasses. Husband. It meant a man who would be her lover, her partner, her friend. Her companion in life.

“I feel good,” Donnalee said, leaning back in her chair. “Not just physically, either.”

“I do, too,” Hallie said.

“Funny—losing Sanford doesn't hurt as much as it did this morning.” She smiled. “I guess that's what a day of total self-indulgence will do.” Donnalee gazed at the view below them for a minute. “I knew it would be painful when I broke the engagement, but I wasn't prepared for how…lonely I'd feel afterward. How empty.”

Hallie admired her friend for being unwilling to accept less than her dream in such an important matter as family. For trusting that eventually there would be someone else, a man who shared her goals and who wanted children as much as she did. A man worth waiting for.

They slept late the next morning, ate breakfast at the hotel and with reluctance began the drive back to Seattle early in the afternoon. This weekend had been an escape from their real lives, and now they were returning to those lives, refreshed and optimistic. Hallie was determined to hang on to her positive feelings.

It started to rain shortly after they crossed the border, but she tried not to read any significance into that.

“You're the one who told me there'd be another man for me after Sanford,” Donnalee said. She smiled softly. “I feel ready to look for him now.”

“That's great.” Hallie pressed her head against the seat, pleased with Donnalee's decision. “Then you're going back to Dateline?”

Donnalee took a long time to respond. “I don't think so.”

“Why not?” Donnalee couldn't have surprised her more had she announced that she'd already met the man she planned to marry.

“I can't give you a logical explanation. But I have the feeling I won't meet him through any dating service.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Donnalee that
she
was the person who'd convinced her to sign up with the service. She supposed she had no real reason to complain, though; Dateline had already sent her a number of potential dates. Two of them she'd dated extensively. Mark and Larry. But Mark had been a serious—even frightening—disappointment. And Larry…well, Larry was probably as indifferent to her as she was to him.

Hallie was mulling all this over when she noticed that Donnalee had exited the freeway. She was only minutes away from home. Once they arrived, she felt a rush of pleasure and satisfaction; her condo, with its neatly planted shrubs, its hanging basket of ferns, its bright door and attractive curtains, looked so welcoming, so dear and familiar. She unloaded her suitcase and all her accumulated treasures from the trunk of Donnalee's car, then waved a fond farewell as Donnalee drove off.

When she was inside out of the rain, Hallie glanced at her phone. She should call Larry and let him know she was home safe and sound. Hesitating, she wondered if Larry really cared—and knew the answer.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked to her wall phone and lifted the receiver. Her purse was still draped over her shoulder. Her suitcase and assorted packages sat in the middle of the living room.

“Hello,” Larry answered without enthusiasm, as if he resented the phone's intrusion on his day.

“It's Hallie.”

“How was Canada?” he continued in the same dry tone, devoid of any hint of enthusiasm or energy. Hallie often wondered how his students were able to sit through his lectures and not fall asleep.

“Canada,” she repeated when she realized he was waiting for her answer. “Spectacular. Wonderful.”

“Good.”

Silence.

“Larry…this time away has given me an opportunity to do some thinking.” She was a coward, Hallie decided, to be doing this over the phone. A living breathing coward. “I haven't made any secret of how much I admire you,” she said, focusing her eyes on the ceiling, praying God would forgive her for this lie. She wanted to spare his feelings as she delivered the message that she no longer wished to date him.

“I imagine that a man of my education and background is impressive to someone like you.”

She took exception to the “someone like you” and under normal circumstances would have questioned him. Doing so now would only prolong the inevitable.

“This time apart has been good for us both,” she began. “It's given me the opportunity to, uh, clear my head.”

“A person needs that occasionally. Eliminate the frivolous and concentrate on what's important.”

“Exactly.” Now all she had to do was find a way of explaining that she no longer considered
him
important. Unsure how to accomplish that, she asked, “Did you miss me while I was away?”

“Miss you?” He sounded surprised. “I suppose I did…but you weren't away more than thirty-two hours. We haven't known each other long, Hallie, and it's really not a question of missing you. The significance of someone's absence is relative to the amount of time two people have been exposed to each other, which in our case has only been a matter of weeks.”

“Six,” she muttered, cursing herself for doing such a miserable job of this.

“My point exactly.”

“If you don't know how you feel about me now…”

“Feel about you,” Larry said. “I hardly know you! Are you pressuring me to propose, Hallie? Because if so, I think you should know that I refuse to bend to pressure.”

Propose.
He thought she wanted him to propose!

“I wasn't expecting a marriage proposal,” she told him, wondering how their conversation could have gone so far off course. “Actually I was looking for a diplomatic way to say that I think it would be best for us both to move on and date others.” In case there was room for misunderstanding, she added, “Not each other.”

Her announcement was followed by a stiff silence. “You mean to say you want to break up with me?” He sounded aghast. Shocked.

“Yes,” she replied meekly, then hurried to say, “I don't want to hurt your feelings. I'm sure there's someone perfectly wonderful waiting to meet you.”

“That's what the last woman told me,” he said gruffly.

“I'm sorry, but there just isn't any…spark between us.”

The line grew quiet. Then, “If you're looking for sparks, I suggest you snuggle up with an electric fence.” With that, he hung up on her.

Hallie allowed herself a little sarcasm. “Goodbye, Larry. I wish you well, too.” Shaking her head, she replaced the receiver.

M
eagan glanced guardedly over her shoulders, as if she expected her brother or father to show up at any second. She'd appeared at the kitchen door minutes after Hallie—or rather, Larry—ended the phone call.

“What's wrong?” Hallie asked, anxious to know what was troubling the girl. She'd rarely seen Meagan agitated or upset—unless it was at her younger brother. For the most part, Hallie found Steve's daughter to be good-natured, congenial and easygoing.

Meagan's nervous gaze returned to her father's house. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

She helped Hallie pick up her packages from the living-room floor and carry them into the bedroom. Then, as if she'd been holding them in all weekend, Meagan's words came out in a rush. “Oh, Hallie, I'm real worried about my dad.”

Hallie frowned; surely Steve wasn't sick or injured? “What's wrong with him?”

The half-wild look was back in the girl's eyes, and it seemed Steve wasn't the only distressed one. “Mom's decided to marry Kip.”

Hallie felt her heart sink. It went without saying that the news would devastate Steve. “I take it your father doesn't know?”

“Not yet,” Meagan said. “Mom said she was going to tell him tonight when she comes to get Kenny and me.”

“Oh, boy,” Hallie whispered, dropping onto her bed. Steve had always made clear that he was working hard toward a reconciliation. He'd based his entire future on their remarrying.

“My dad still loves my mom,” Meagan said, her voice slowly fading. Hallie watched as the girl's eyes filled with tears. Like any kid, Meagan wanted her parents together. Even when Meagan and Kenny had asked her if she'd be willing to marry their dad, Hallie hadn't taken them seriously. She suspected that all along they'd been more aware of Mary Lynn's intentions than Steve had, but now that their mother was actually getting married, they weren't ready to face this new reality. Steve's children, like Steve himself, wanted a reconciliation.

Hallie held out her arms and Meagan walked into them, hiding her face in Hallie's sweater. “Will you talk to my dad?” she asked after a moment.

Hallie's gut instinct was to stay out of it, and she would have, if it wasn't for two things. Steve had been there for her. He'd seen her through the heartache of celebrating her thirtieth birthday alone. And only last weekend, he'd saved her sanity by helping her with Ellen. In many ways he was as good a friend as Donnalee.

“I'll do what I can,” Hallie promised, but she didn't know what she could say, or if Steve would want to hear it. She stroked Meagan's hair, murmuring, “Don't worry, honey, your dad's an adult. He can handle this.”

It wasn't as if the news would come as any great shock. Steve knew his ex-wife was dating again, although he'd chosen to ignore what that meant.

Meagan lifted her tear-streaked face to Hallie's. “I've been waiting for you all weekend.”

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed to talk.”

Meagan shrugged. “That's all right. It's more important that you be here for my dad. He's going to need a friend and he won't call Todd.”

“Todd?”

“His best friend. You haven't met Todd?”

“Not yet.” Other than the bowling tournament and a few pizzas with him and the kids, Hallie hadn't socialized with Steve. Come to think of it, he'd never formally met Donnalee, either.

Hallie heard a car pull up out front.

“I gotta go. It sounds like Mom's here.” Meagan wiped her face with her sleeve and slid off the bed. “Bye!”

Because she knew what was coming, Hallie stood and watched out her living-room window, hidden behind her drapes so Steve and his family wouldn't be able to see her. She felt like a voyeur but told herself she'd now become part of this scenario; if she was going to be any comfort to Steve, she needed to understand his reaction. Looking dejected, Meagan and Kenny climbed into their mother's car, dragging their overnight cases. Both slumped in the back seat, heads lowered.

Steve followed the kids across the lawn to the car. Mary Lynn waited outside the vehicle, with the open door on the driver's side between her and Steve. As a barrier, it couldn't have been more obvious.

Hallie watched as Meagan put on earphones, as if she needed to drown out the conversation between her parents. Steve's ex-wife had her back to Hallie, and Steve was smiling at the woman. Hallie knew he looked forward to these Sunday afternoons when Mary Lynn stopped by for the kids.

After a few moments Hallie noted that his mood changed dramatically. He repeatedly shook his head, in denial, and he made a confused helpless motion with his hand. Next his face tightened and he slammed his fist against the hood of the car.

Hallie grimaced, sure he must have injured his hand. He and Mary Lynn were now exchanging comments—insults?—in low voices. Unable to watch any longer, Hallie turned away, angry with herself for intruding on what should have been private. She felt sick to her stomach at what she'd seen.

Knowing that Steve was probably in no mood for company, Hallie waited an hour. Daylight filtered weakly through a dark and threatening sky—but she managed to see into Steve's condo. It took her a moment to realize he was lying on the carpet, listening to the stereo at full blast. Hallie didn't know whether to laugh or cry; it was exactly what she'd been doing that night in April. Her birthday. She had to listen carefully before she recognized the song: “Send in the Clowns.”

She searched the back of her cupboard until she found the bottle of rich Tennessee bourbon a grateful client had given her last Christmas. She didn't often drink hard liquor, but if ever an occasion called for booze, this was it. She scrounged up a shot glass, souvenir of a trip to Las Vegas for her twenty-first birthday, and headed for Steve's.

Standing in the rain at his front door, she repeatedly rang the bell, but to no avail. Wasn't he going to answer?

“Steve,” she shouted, pounding on the door. “Would you open up before I drown?”

He threw open the door a moment later—having turned down the music—and didn't look any too pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?”

She held up the bottle and the shot glass. “I thought you might need medication.”

He frowned in puzzlement. “You know?”

“Meagan told me.”

He stepped aside and let her in. “I can't believe it.” He looked like a man walking around in a daze, like an accident victim left to deal with the aftermath of tragedy. He collapsed onto the sofa and leaned forward, wiping a hand down his face.

Hallie made her way into the kitchen and found a couple of clean glasses. She filled them both with ice and poured him a double with no mixer. Her own, she watered down considerably.

He glanced up and offered her a feeble smile when she handed him the drink. He held on to it for several minutes, gazing blankly ahead of him, until Hallie suspected he'd forgotten she was there. She figured if he wanted to talk he would; she had no intention of pushing him.

Sitting down in the chair across from him, she tentatively tasted the drink and blinked rapidly as it seared a path down her throat. Her eyes filled with tears and she pounded her chest in an effort to keep from coughing.

“You all right?” Steve asked.

She nodded, blinking furiously, wondering what her reaction would have been had she taken the bourbon straight.

Their eyes met, and Hallie could barely look at the misery in his. “I'm so sorry, Steve. I know how much you wanted to get back together with Mary Lynn.”

His shoulders heaved in a deep sigh. “She's actually going to marry that creep.”

This didn't seem the time to point out that Steve didn't know Kip well enough to judge his character. All he cared about was that this other man was stepping in, taking
his
place within the family. He didn't need to say it for Hallie to know what he was thinking.

“We met in high school,” Steve said after a while.

“You and Mary Lynn?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear him talk about the other woman or how much he loved her. She was tempted to ask him to stop, to say that stirring up the memories would only hurt him, but she didn't have the heart. If he wanted to vent his pain with her, the least she could do was listen. She owed him that much.

“Mary Lynn was new that year and so damn pretty my heart would stop every time I saw her. She used to come by every day to watch the football team practice….”

“I imagine you were the star player.” Athletic as he was, Hallie couldn't imagine Steve being anything else.

“Quarterback. How'd you know?”

“Lucky guess,” she returned with a grin.

Steve downed the undiluted drink in one giant swallow. He closed his eyes and shook his head like a dog stepping out of a lake. He cursed under his breath, then set the glass aside. “Damn, but that's good bourbon.”

“Only the best for my friends.”

Steve leaned back against the sofa cushion. The music continued to play softly in the background and Hallie recognized Paul Simon singing “Still Crazy After All These Years.”

“I loved her from the moment I saw her,” Steve said. “That's never changed, not once in all that time.”

Hallie remembered her own high-school sweetheart and the intensity of their relationship. They'd broken up during her senior year and he'd taken someone else to the prom. Hallie had ended up attending the dance with her best friend's out-of-town cousin, whom she'd met the summer before. He was a nice guy, but he wasn't Les.

It'd killed her to watch Les dance with another girl, but for pride's sake, she'd been forced to pretend she didn't care.

Steve laughed once, sharply. “I asked her to marry me on our first date.” Steve let his head fall back against the sofa and closed his eyes. “I knew the first time I kissed her that I was going to love her. Later, my dad told me the same thing happened to him when he met my mother. He asked her to dance at a USO party. One spin around the floor was all it took.”

How romantic. Hallie wished it could be so easy for her. Instead, she was stuck dating a cast of misfits, one after another, in her search for a man to love. She almost giggled as the CD player picked Tina Turner next, singing “What's Love Got to Do with It?” Then she sighed. Here was Steve, her friend and neighbor, and he'd found the woman he loved when he was a teenager. Now Mary Lynn didn't want him. A broken marriage, a betrayed love, might be an everyday tragedy, but it was a tragedy nonetheless.

“I gave her a ring the very next week,” Steve said, his voice low and mellow, presumably from the bourbon. “Naturally we didn't tell anyone it was an engagement ring. Our parents would've hit the roof if we'd been talking about marriage on such short acquaintance.”

Hallie would never have guessed that Steve possessed such a romantic soul. This was the kind of thing women dreamed about, this consuming once-in-a-lifetime love. And Mary Lynn had thrown it all away. It was so terribly sad. Her throat tightened; the kind of love Steve felt was exactly what she'd hoped would happen to her. But no man had ever loved her like that, or wanted her so much.

“I married her in my heart the night of our first date. That was when we found each other. That was when our hearts connected and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving Mary Lynn.”

The lump in Hallie's throat thickened painfully, and she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sob.

Steve's eyes fluttered open. “Hallie?”

She bit her lower lip and searched in her pocket for a tissue. “It's nothing.”

“You're crying?”

“I'm not.” The lie was ludicrous since it was patently obvious that she was.

Steve disappeared and returned with a box of tissues. He studied her as if he didn't know what to say.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for a tissue. This was more than a little embarrassing. She blew her nose and tucked the tissue in her pocket. Steve sat down next to her.

“I'm sorry,” she wailed, and reached for a fresh tissue. She clutched it tightly, trying to ignore Eric Clapton's plaintive “Tears in Heaven.”

“Sorry for what?” Steve asked gently.

It didn't look as if she was going to be able to stop crying. Her shoulders trembled and she grabbed a handful of tissues, jerking them out of the box two and three at a time. “I'm supposed to be the one—” she sobbed openly “—comforting you.”

He placed his arm around her shoulders, and she pressed her head against his, soaking up the solace, even though
she'd
intended to be the one offering it. She couldn't begin to explain the tears.

“I never understood why Mary Lynn wanted the divorce,” Steve whispered.

“I don't know why, either,” she said, sniffing hard in an effort to stop crying.

It'd been the grief, the pain and absolute desolation in Steve's eyes, she decided. He was about to lose the family he cherished, and his life would never be the same. He'd lost the woman he loved.