Worth the Drive (42 page)

“And then you’ll come over?”

He shook his head and she felt a little piece of her heart shake
off as well. It must have shown
in her eyes, because he reached across for her hand. “
Gata
,” he said softly, like he did when they made love.

She kept her hands where they were, needing to hear him out. He leaned back in his chair, let out a heavy sigh. She would have done anything for him to smile that lopsided smile of his, for his warm brown eyes to shine. But neither happened.

He looked away from her, couldn’t meet her eyes.

Oh God, he was dumping her. She was being dumped again. And even though they’d been together so short a time, even though she’d only known him five months, the hurt she felt this
time cut so much deeper than it had with Ron.

He must have realized she was in love with him. She’d tried to hide it, but how could she hide her feelings that well? The thought of marriage for the baby, with a mutual attraction and caring for each other was one thing. But a marriage where she loved him desperately was not what
Darío
had signed on for
.

So he was pulling out.

“I see,” she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. “But you’ll be coming back to the States for the Tour Championship?”

He nodded. “
Sî
, I have committed to play there.”

“And you would never break a commitment, would you?
”
Her voice sounded shrill, even to herself.

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. He waited till she looked at him. “I am committed to our child, Katie. I have been since the moment you told me you were pregnant.”

To the child. Not to Katie. But if she was honest with herself, it was what she’d first proposed to him, when she’d brought the papers to him in Memphis. That they do what was best for the child. It was she that had said being in a loveless marriage was not the best option.

But it wouldn’t be loveless now, at least not on her part.

She loved him. But he didn’t love her. She was only a commitment to him. A noble gesture. The honorable thing to do.

She had to let him go if that’s what he wanted.

“Perhaps you were right, those months ago in Memphis. Perhaps our child would be better off raised by you in the Copper Country. I have now spent some time there, with your friends, your family. I know our child would be happy there, as you were.”

“And your part in our lives?”

“That doesn’t have to be decided now,” he said. She wanted to scratch his eyes out for being so calm, cool.

She needed to be away from him. She couldn’t keep herself from falling apart and that wouldn’t help the situation. She rose to leave, and like the gentleman he was, he rose also. She waved him back to his seat. “Sit. Sit. I’m going to go pack.”

“I did not mean that you should leave today,” he said.

“I might as well. M
aybe I can be some help to Alison while she gets things
with her parents
squared away.”

“Yes, of course. Alison. You
’d
want to be with her now.”

There was something in his voice…sarcasm? But that was so unlike
Darío
. She stared at him a moment, trying to read his face, but he was impassive. Like he was on the course. Focused. Determined. You never really knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling inside.

As if the airlines were in cahoots with
Darío
to get her out of the country as quickly as possible, there was an open seat that afternoon. The ride to the airport was excruciating. The only saving grace was that Sofia hadn’t come home before they left. Katie didn’t know how she’d explain she was leaving to the woman whom she told only yesterday how much she loved
Darío
.

That seemed like months ago, not just yesterday.

Their goodbye was dismal. An awkward hug, a chaste kiss on both cheeks. Not the bone-melting kisses
Darío
had given her only nights ago.

Katie held it together at the gate, got situated in her seat, received a blanket and pillow from
the flight attendant, then proceeded to cry the entire flight home.

Chapter
Twenty Three

You are meant to play the ball as it lies, a fact that may help to touch on your own objective approach to life.

- Grantland Rice
, sportswriter

Binky was shaking his head. Again. It seemed that’s all the wiry man had done since
Darío
began his tale of why Katie was not with him in Madrid for the Spanish Open.

The story didn’t take
Darío
long. He wouldn’t go into the details. There weren’t many anyway. He’d felt Katie wanted to be at home. He’d suggested she go. She went.

But of course, Binky would not be satisfied with that. As
Darío
started his warm-up routine on the range he waited for the questions to start.

He’d not even gotten his glove on his hand when they did.

“So the getting married part?”

“On hold,”
Darío
said as he took his pitching wedge out of the bag. He waited for Binky to set some balls up for him. Binky stayed at the bag with his arms folded across his chest.
Darío
sighed and went to the bucket of balls himself, tipping it over, scooping a few forward with the blade of his club. “You are still an employee, yes?”

Binky snorted at that, kicked a few more balls forward. “This ‘on hold’. Her doing or yours?”

“A mutual decision.”

Another snort.
Darío
picked his head up and looked around the range. “It sounds like a wild animal is around. Do you see it? Perhaps a wild boar.” He put his head back down and did some warm up swings.

Binky, perhaps remembering he had a job to do as well, started going through
Darío
’s bag, counting clubs, checking the ball count, the normal pre-round routine.

“Let me just ask this. Did she say she wanted to go home, or did you suggest it?”

Darío
hit the ball. It was a good fifteen yards off target, not great when the shots he was practicing first were only fifty yards to begin with.

“I believe I suggested it.” At Binky’s “Aha” look, he quickly added, “But only because she would not have asked herself. She wanted to go.”

“How do you know that?”

What to say? How much to tell? It seemed unfair to Katie to impart the details of their breakup to anyone, even Bi
nky. Besides, his pride wouldn’
t let him tell Binky that Katie was still in love with her ex-husband. Husband, he mentally corrected himself, remembering the unsigned divorce papers.

Did he tell Binky that the last week without Katie had been hell? That putting her on the plane was the hardest thing he’d ever done. That he wouldn’t let the cleaning lady he’d hired for his mother change the pillowcase that Katie’d slept on. That he had horrifying dreams of a baby in distress that he couldn’t save that woke him up in the middle of the night.

“I could tell she wanted to go home,” was all he said, hoping Binky would let it go at that.

“How?”

Darío
sighed, hit another ball, which was even further off target. “She was different once we got to Spain. She began to pull away. I think she finally realized what she’d committed to, and it
wasn’t what she wanted.”

Marriage to him had never been what she wanted. She’d been upfront with him about that from the beginning. It was he who’d pressed, who’d said his child would not be born a bastard. Somewhere, for some reason, she’d agreed, but it was clear to
Darío
now that it was not what she wanted.

“Because she started to pull away? That could be a hundred different things. Your imagination for one.”

Darío
raised an eyebrow at Binky. He switched to his nine-iron. Binky brought the balls to him this time, took the wedge from
Darío
, cleaned it, then set it outside the bag.

“I did not imagine it.”

Binky nodded, willing to concede the point. “Could be she was nervous around your mother? Or about being in your house, your country. Wondering how’d she fit in. If she’d fit in.”

Darío
shook his head. “She got along very well with my mother. And she seemed to love San Barria.”

“Okay…could be…” Binky was searching for answers.

Darío
decided to end this discussion. It was like picking at a scab to him. A newly formed, very fragile scab.

“Could be she is still in love with her husband, and now he has become available to raise her child with her.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“That her husband was now available? In a way.”

“No, that she still loved him? Did she tell you that herself?”

Darío
turned away, not answering. He took a couple of quick swings with the nine-iron, both shots going way right.

“Bloody hell. You know what this is? This is just like in Denver, calling the penalty shot on yourself when you didn’t see the ball move.”

Darío
looked at Binky, waiting. “You didn’t see the ball move with Katie, either, Guv,” Binky said, his voice low, insistent.

Darío
looked at Binky for a long moment. His caddy – his friend – seemed to be silently pleading with him.
Darío
would have liked nothing more than to agree with Binky’s analogy. But it was Katie they were talking about, her happiness. And that was much more important than any golf tournament.

He lowered his head and, as he had in Denver, said only, “I cannot be sure it didn’t.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” Katie said as Ron stepped through the doorway of her home. Their home
.

“Of course. No problem,” Ron answered.

He’d sounded surprised when she’d called him earlier and asked if he could swing by the house. He was composed, now, used to the idea, but she could see the questioning in his eyes. He looked tired, but Katie guessed that’s what worrying about a child – even if it turned out not to be your own – did to you.

And of course, as always, he looked gorgeous. His hulking frame took up the most of the breakfast nook that Katie led them to. He pulled out a chair – his chair – and sat down. Katie put down a Bud for him and an iced tea for herself and seated herself across from her husband.

It seemed so familiar, so safe sitting here with him now. As if nothing had changed.

This was the room where they’d had all their important talks. And the unimportant ones. All the “how was your day?” conversations took place at this table. As well as “pass the salt”. And the baby discussions. So many of them. When they’d first started trying, the talk was all of names, and college funds and fixing up the nursery. Then the conversation slowly turned to concern. Then calendars would be on the table with Dr.’s appointments and best conception days circled. After awhile the table would be littered with infertility information, the baby name books moved to the lesser-used den.

Here, at this circular cherry table, in this circular room with windows all around, they had formed a life together.

Katie pushed the brown envelope across the table toward Ron, prepared to legally end that life.

He put his hand out to take the papers, then pulled them back, as if they might burn. He looked at Katie
.
His blue eyes, so like her own, were filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite read. Remorse? Tenderness?

“I’m so sorry about forgetting these. That night we saw you at the Commodore, I came home and started to get them out of my bag and then…” She would skip that part about joining
Darío
in the shower. Ron didn’t need to hear it, and it was too painful for her to remember anyway. “I got called out of the room. I left town the next day. I thought I’d taken care of it.”

Ron’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. You thought you’d signed them?”

“Yes.”

“So it wasn’t intentional? You not signing them and sending them on to the lawyer.”

“No.”

“Not intentional, but maybe subconsciously you didn’t want to sign them?”

“Now you sound like Alison.”

He barked a laugh. The last person Ron wante
d to be compared to was Alison as
they’d always rubbed each other the wrong way. “Does she think there’s a bigger reason for you not signing the papers? Does she agree with me?”

“She doesn’t know I didn’t send them to the lawyer. She probably assumes that I went home that night after the Commodore, signed them and put them in the mail the next morning. It’s what I’d assumed until I was unpacking my laptop case the other day.”