White Lace and Promises (19 page)

“You’re being ridiculous,” Glenn muttered, his hand tightening around his drink. “These are my friends, and they accept you as my wife.”

Glenn was on the defensive and did appear willing to listen to her. “You’re wrong,
Glenn,” she murmured, “They don’t like me and with good reason. We’ll talk about it later.”

Glenn said nothing. The sound of someone banging a teaspoon against the side of a glass interrupted their discussion.

“Attention, everyone,” Gary Weir called as he came to stand beside Glenn and Maggie. With dull blue eyes that revealed several drinks too many, Gary motioned with his arms that he wanted everyone to gather around.

Maggie felt like a statue with a frozen smile curving her mouth as she watched the party crowding around them. Glenn placed an arm at her neck, but his touch felt cold and impersonal.

Ceremoniously clearing his throat, Gary continued. “As you’re all aware, tonight’s party is being given in honor of Glenn and his”—he faltered momentarily, and seemed to have forgotten Maggie’s name—“bride.” A red blush attacked the cheeks of the supervisor, and he took a large swallow of his drink.

“As we know,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to Glenn and Maggie, “Glenn has recently announced that he’s transferring to California.” Gary was interrupted with several low boos until he sliced the air, cutting off his associates. “Needless to say, everyone is going to miss him. Glenn has been a positive force within our company. We’ve all come to appreciate him, and it goes without saying that he’ll be sorely missed. But being good sports, we want to wish him the best in San Francisco.” A polite round of applause followed.

“In addition,” Gary went on, his voice gaining volume with each word, “Glenn has taken a wife.” He turned and beamed a proud smile at the two of them. “All of us felt that we couldn’t send you away without a wedding gift. So we took up a collection and got you this.” He turned around and lifted a gaily wrapped gift from behind a chair, holding it out to Glenn and Maggie.

Clearing his throat, Gary finished by saying, “This gift is a token of our appreciation and well-wishes. We’d all like to wish Glen and Angie many years of happiness.”

Maggie’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard at the unexpectedness of it. An embarrassed hush fell over the room and Maggie felt Glenn stiffen. Not realizing his mistake, Gary flashed a troubled look to his wife who was mouthing Maggie’s name.

To cover the awkward moment, Maggie stepped forward and took the gift from Gary’s hand. He gave her an apologetic look and fumbled, obviously flustered and embarrassed.

“Glenn and I would like to thank you, Larry.”

“Gary,” he corrected instantly, some color seeping back into his pale face.

A slow smile grew across Maggie’s tight features. “We both seem to be having problems with names tonight, don’t we?”

The party loved it, laughing spontaneously at the way she had aptly turned the tables on their superior. Laughing himself, Gary briefly hugged her and pumped Glenn’s hand.

Not until they were on their way home did Glenn comment on the mishap. “Thank you,” he said as they headed toward the freeway.

“For what?”

“For the way you handled that.” He didn’t need to explain what “that” was. Maggie knew. Rarely in his life had Glenn felt such anger. He had wanted to throw Gary against the wall and demand that he apologize to Maggie for embarrassing her that way. Of course, the slip hadn’t been intentional, but it hadn’t seemed to matter.

Several times in the past few weeks, Glenn had questioned whether he was making the right decision leaving Charleston. Maggie had blossomed here and seemed to genuinely love the city. Now he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that leaving was best. Angie would haunt their marriage in Charleston. He had been a fool not to realize why Maggie had been so miserable at the party. The thought that his coworkers would confuse her with Angie hadn’t crossed his mind. It seemed impossible that only a few months back he had been planning to marry someone else. These days he had trouble picturing Angie and seldom tried. Angie would always hold a special place in his heart. He wished her a long and happy life with Simon. But he had Maggie now, and thanked God for the woman beside him. He might not have courted her the way he should have, the way she deserved, but he desperately needed her in his life.

He loved her. Simply. Profoundly. Utterly. He’d tell her soon.
Not tonight, though
, he thought, or she’d think the mistake at the party had prompted the admission. Glenn wanted to choose the time carefully. For several weeks now, he had realized she loved him. Yet she hadn’t said anything. He couldn’t blame her. Things would straighten themselves out once they were in San Francisco. The sooner they left Charleston, the better. In California, Maggie need never worry that someone would bring up Angie’s name again.

“Gary’s mistake was an honest one. He didn’t mean to embarrass anyone.” Without a problem, Maggie excused Glenn’s friend.

“I know,” Glenn murmured, concentrating on his driving.

They didn’t talk again until they were home, and then only in polite phrases. They
undressed in silence, and when they lifted the covers and climbed into bed, Glenn gathered her close in his arms, kissing her softly. He was asleep long before she was and rolled away from her. Maggie lay staring at the ceiling, unable to shake what had happened earlier from her mind. The flickering moon shadows seemed to taunt her. All they had been doing for the past few weeks was pretending. The two of them had been so intent on making believe that there had never been another woman in Glenn’s life that the incident tonight had nearly devastated them. That was the problem with fantasies—they were so easily shattered. Maggie didn’t need to be told that Glenn had been equally disturbed. Angie was present in their lives; she loomed between them like an uninvited guest. With a heavy heart, Maggie rolled over and tried to sleep, but she couldn’t. Not until Glenn’s arms found her and he pulled her into the circle of his embrace. But he had been asleep, and for all she knew, Maggie thought bitterly, he could have been dreaming it was “her” he was holding.

Monday morning after Glenn left for work, Maggie sat lingering over a cup of coffee, working the crossword puzzle. The first thing she should do was get dressed, but she had trouble shaking off a feeling of melancholy. No matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t been able to forget what had happened Friday night. They hadn’t spoken about it again, choosing to ignore it. For now the puzzle filled her time. Her pen ran out of ink and after giving it several hard shakes, she tossed it into the garbage. Glenn kept a dozen or more in his desk.

Standing, Maggie headed toward his office. One thing they had decided over the weekend was that Maggie would fly ahead of Glenn to California. Like a fool, Maggie had suggested it on the pretense that she had several items that required her attention waiting for her. She had hoped that Glenn would tell her he wanted them to arrive together. But he had agreed all too readily and she’d been miserable for the remainder of the day.

Pulling open Glenn’s drawer, she found what she needed and started to close the desk drawer. As she did it made a light, scraping sound. Her first inclination was to shove it closed. Instead, she carefully pulled the drawer free and discovered an envelope tucked away in the back that had been forced upward when she’d gotten the pen.

It wasn’t the normal place for Glenn to keep his mail, and she examined the envelope curiously. The even, smooth flowing strokes of the handwriting attracted her artist’s eye. This was a woman’s handwriting—Angie’s handwriting. Maggie felt the room sway as she sank onto the corner of the swivel chair, her knees giving out. The postmark revealed that the letter had
been mailed a week before Steve and Janelle’s wedding.

Perspiration broke out across Maggie’s upper lip, and she placed a hand over her mouth. Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure it rocked the room. The letter must have meant a great deal to Glenn for him to have saved it. Although she hadn’t searched through the condominium, she had felt confident that he’d destroyed everything that would remind him of the other woman. Yet the letter remained.

Half of her wanted to stuff it back inside the drawer and pretend she’d never found it. The other half knew that if she didn’t know the contents of the letter, she would always wonder. Glenn had told her so little. She was his wife. She had a right to know. He should have explained the entire situation long ago, but he hadn’t, choosing instead to leave her curious and wondering. If she looked, it would be his own fault, she argued with herself. He had driven her to it.

It was wrong, Maggie knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help herself. Slowly, each inch pounding in nails of guilt, she withdrew the scented paper from the envelope.

C
arefully, Maggie unfolded the letter and was again struck by the smoothly flowing lines of the even handwriting. Angie’s soulful dark eyes flashed in Maggie’s memory from the time she’d seen the other woman’s photograph. The handwriting matched the woman.

With trembling hands, Maggie refolded the letter and placed it back inside Glenn’s drawer. If she had hoped to satisfy her curiosity regarding Angie, the letter only raised more questions. Angie had mentioned a sacrifice Glenn had made on her behalf. But what? He was
like that, noble and sensitive, even self-sacrificing. Angie’s marrying Simon clearly had devastated him.

All day the letter troubled Maggie, until she decided that if she were to help Glenn bury the past, she had to understand it. That night, she would do the very thing she had promised she wouldn’t: She would ask Glenn to tell her about Angie.

No day had ever seemed so long. She didn’t leave the house, didn’t comb her hair until the afternoon, and when she did, her mirrored reflection revealed troubled, weary eyes and tight, compressed lips. If Glenn could talk this out with her, their chances of happiness would be greatly increased. He had saved the letter, risked her finding it. Although he might not be willing to admit it, he was holding on to Angie, hugging the memory. The time had come to let go.

With her arms cradling her middle, Maggie paced the living room carpet, waiting for Glenn to come home from work. The questions were outlined in her mind. She had no desire to hurt or embarrass him. She wanted him to tell her honestly and freely what had happened with Angie and why he had stepped aside for Angie to marry Simon.

Yet for all her preparedness, when Glenn walked in the door Maggie turned abruptly toward him with wide, apprehensive eyes, her brain numb.

“Hello, Glenn.” She managed to greet him calmly and walked across the room to give him a perfunctory kiss. She felt comfortable, but her cheeks and hands were cold. Earlier she had decided not to mention finding the letter, not wanting Glenn to know she had stooped so low as to read it. However, if he asked, she couldn’t … wouldn’t … lie.

His hands found her waist and he paused to study her. “Maggie, what’s wrong, you’re as cold as an iceberg.”

She felt ridiculously close to tears and nibbled at her lower lip before answering. This was far more difficult than she’d thought it would be. “Glenn, we need to talk.”

“I can see that. Do you have another rule for our marriage?”

Absently, she rubbed the palms of her hands together. “No.”

He followed her into the living room and took a seat while she poured him a glass of wine. “Do you think I’m going to need that?” He didn’t know what was troubling Maggie, but he had never seen her quite like this. She looked almost as if she were afraid, which was ludicrous. There was nothing she had to fear from him. He was her husband, and she should always feel comfortable coming to him.

Maybe she was pregnant. His pulse leaped eagerly at the thought. A baby would be wonderful, exciting news. A feeling of tenderness overcame him. Maggie was carrying his child.

“Maggie,” he asked gently, “are you pregnant?”

She whirled around, sloshing some of the wine over the side of the glass, her eyes wide with astonishment. “No. What makes you ask?”

Disappointed, Glenn slowly shook his head. “No reason. Won’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”

She handed him the drink but didn’t take a seat, knowing she would never be able to sit comfortably in one position. She was too nervous. Hands poised, her body tense, she stood by the window and looked down at the street far below. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you all day.”

He wished she’d get to the point instead of leaving him to speculate what troubled her. He had never seen her this edgy. She resembled a child who had come to her parent to admit a great fault. “If it was so important, why didn’t you phone me at the office?”

“I … couldn’t. This was something that had to be done in person, Glenn,” she said, then swallowed, clenching and unclenching her fists as she ignored the impatience in his eyes. “This isn’t easy.” She resisted the urge to dry her clammy palms on the pockets of her navy-blue slacks.

“I can see that,” he said gently. Whatever it was had clearly caused her a lot of anxiety. Rushing her would do no good, and so he forced himself to relax as much as possible. He crossed his legs and leaned back against the thick cushions of the chair.