Betrayed by Trust (10 page)

T
hanks for doing this,” Dan said as we drove south from Harrisburg International Airport. “I know Pennsylvania in March isn’t what anyone would call a romantic honeymoon spot.”

I chuckled and peered out at the gray sky. “It’s fine. I just hope your grandmother likes me.”

“She will.” Dan took one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze my knee.

I hoped he was right. Otherwise, the next few days would be pretty uncomfortable since we were staying with her.

“Gran will love you, especially when she sees how happy I am.” He turned left onto Pecks Road, then north again.

“Are you? Happy, I mean.” I wanted him to be. Our marriage was one of convenience, a contrivance to help hide my child from the Golden Path. But I found myself feeling happy and satisfied to be bound to Dan, and I wanted him to feel the same. I knew he wanted me physically as much as I wanted him. If good sex could make a man happy, Dan should be ecstatic, but he was deeper than that. Jill had said he was “lighter” than he’d been for years, and Dan had said I was a fit for him. Was that enough? Did that mean he was happy?

Dan glanced over at me. “Can’t you tell?” The corner of his mouth curled up. “I don’t want to be too romantic, after all. I know how that bothers you …”

I pressed my lips together and whapped him lightly on the shoulder. When had I become so needy? “Never mind.”

“Okay. But if you change your mind, you can just ask Gran. She’ll know, and she won’t mince words.”

At eighty-five, Dan’s maternal grandmother hadn’t felt up to traveling to the wedding, so we’d decided to visit her, instead. She’d insisted we stay with her. After two nights at the resort, we’d flown across the country to Pennsylvania and rented a car. Even though she lived fairly close to the state capital, this area was still largely rural; brown fields lay to the east of
PA
441, and the Susquehanna river to the west. In the summer this area would be green and lush, but barely a week into spring, the landscape was still bleak, painted like the sky and the river with various shades of gray and brown.

We pulled up in front of a farmhouse with a wide porch. A very plump woman with fluffy gray hair opened the door before Dan could raise his hand to knock.

“Danny! It’s been too long!” She pulled him into a hug against her apron-covered bosom. Dan had to bend way over to wrap his arms around her.

When he straightened, he kept one arm around her shoulders and held the other out to me. “Gran, this is my wife, Marianne.” He pitched his voice a little louder than normal.

His wife
. Once again I was struck by the rapid changes to my life, only this time it felt good. I was his wife. I was family.

I smiled and held out my hand, but it was ignored. Gran pulled me into a hug as encompassing as the one she’d given Dan.

“Welcome! Now come in out of the cold. We don’t want you taking a chill!”

Dan brought in our luggage and Gran pointed us up the stairs to a small guest room that was almost filled by a double bed. The wrought iron bed frame had been painted white many years ago. Missing flakes of paint revealed an even older coat of turquoise beneath.

For the next few hours Gran fed us, shared family gossip, and fed us again. Then she brought out snacks “to fill in the corners” while we played gin rummy. At bedtime, Dan and I snuggled close together under the faded hand-stitched quilt in the narrow bed.

Dan spooned close behind me, pressing his erection against my butt. I wiggled against him, and the bed squeaked loudly.

“Damn bed,” Dan muttered. “Why doesn’t she get rid of this thing?” He levered himself up on one elbow and pulled me onto my back and kissed me. The bed protested again.

I laughed softly. “We can’t.”

He was still for a moment, considering. Then he kissed me again and murmured. “We can. She’s hard of hearing, remember?”

I bit my lip, considering. I could feel Dan’s heat and the firmness of his hard-on through my nightgown. He was only wearing briefs, and I couldn’t stop myself from running my hands down his long muscled back to squeeze his buns.

Dan took that as assent and sat up. He urged me to do the same, then he pulled my gown off, over my head, accompanied by a frenzy of squeeks.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll take it slow. She won’t hear a thing. And she’s a sound sleeper.” He bent to suck one of my nipples into his mouth.

A geyser of pleasure shot through me. I wanted this. Wanted him.

Neither one of us needed much warm-up. Dan settled between my legs and slipped slowly inside, filling not just my body, but my soul. He moved slowly at first, then faster, the bed squeaking in time. I choked back a giggle, then locked my ankles behind his back, rocking my hips upward to meet his thrusts, wanting to take him in as deeply as I could. Every stroke touched something within me, making me hungry for even more. My tension grew until every muscle was taught. I barely heard the bed anymore as I reached for release. Within me, Dan grew even more rigid, impaling me with his urgent need, pushing me higher.

“Now baby,” he urged. “Let it go.”

His words pushed me over the edge. My muscles contracted around his shaft and I groaned into Dan’s mouth. A moment later he followed me, his moan strangled behind a clenched jaw.

As we floated down from the peak, Dan shifted, settling me over him, my head nestled against his chest. He pulled the coverlet over my boneless body, and I fell asleep surrounded by his warmth.

The next morning, after fishing my nightgown out from under the bed, I wrapped myself in a robe and joined Dan and his Gran for breakfast. I eyed her warily, searching for signs that we’d disturbed her, but she just bustled around, frying bacon, scrambling eggs, and pulling fresh baked muffins from the oven. She flatly refused any help.

“I have my routine, dear. You just sit.”

She set two heavily laden platters on the table in front of us. It was a good thing we were only visiting a few days. The way she was feeding us, if we stayed any longer I’d gain half my pregnancy weight in the first trimester. She refilled our coffee cups and with a cheery smile said, “I hope you both had fun last night.”

Dan coughed, choking on a bite of muffin. My gaze met his, then slid away as I bit my lips. His expression was carefully controlled, but color was rising in his cheeks.

“I know I did,” Gran continued. “I haven’t played rummy in ages. Maybe we can play again when Sissy and Bob get here.”

Dan gulped his juice, washing down the muffin. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

Dan’s Aunt Sissy and Uncle Bob arrived for lunch and stayed for dinner. Their grown sons, Steve and Greg, along with their wives and kids, joined us for the evening meal. The genders split along traditional lines. The women chopped vegetables and stirred gravy and set the table, while Dan and his cousins kept the kids busy running around outside, playing some game that entailed a lot of laughter and shrieking. Through the window, I heard Dan growling as he stalked a well-bundled four-year-old who squealed and giggled as Dan swept her up over his head.

I imagined this scene a few years from now, our child among the others, gathered for Christmas maybe, building a snowman with the help of his or her older cousins. I’d gotten pregnant as a way to hurt the people who’d taken Mark from our family, and found something wonderful along the way.

“Marianne?” Paulette, Greg’s wife, had apparently asked me something.

“Sorry, I was woolgathering.”

She looked over my shoulder to see what had stolen my attention. “Dan’s going to be a great dad. How far along are you?”

“Six weeks.”

She nodded. “If you want, I can send you some of our baby things. We’re not planning on having any more kids.”

“I have some stuff you can have, too,” Connie offered. “Be good to get it out of my attic.”

The conversation drifted to talk of morning sickness remedies, natural childbirth versus drugs, the joy and discomfort of breast feeding, and whether it was better to put the baby on a schedule right away or let his natural rhythms determine when he slept and ate. I’d never been interested in these topics before. In the past I would have wanted to be out playing in the yard or watching the game with the men, not gossiping in the kitchen with the women. But I’d never been expecting a baby before, and I soaked up every tidbit of information they offered.

The light faded, and soon the pot roast was ready. With a fair amount of chaos, the kids and men shed their coats and caps, then settled at Gran’s big table that had been extended with makeshift leaves and covered with mismatched tablecloths.

Gran held out her hands and everyone clasped their neighbors’. “Dan, would you say grace?”

Dan bowed his head and gave the blessing.

“Amen,” everyone except the smallest assented.

I lifted my head and looked at Dan. He caught my gaze and smiled. In all our talks about Aldwyn, about the Na-gá, Dan hadn’t said he was religious, yet he’d recited the prayer without hesitation. I had a lot to learn about my husband.

A couple of hours later, with the kitchen cleaned and the leftovers put away, the extended family departed, citing the need to get the little ones to bed. It was barely eight o’clock, but we’d all had a busy day. Gran was nodding off in her chair, so Dan and I pled jet-lag and escaped to our room so she wouldn’t feel she had to stay up to entertain us.

I leaned against the door as I shut it behind us. The room seemed extremely quiet after the hub-bub of multiple conversations all evening.

“I like your family,” I said.

“They like you, too.” Dan smiled and the bed squeaked as he sat to pull off his shoes. Then his expression changed. “Oh, no.” He bit his lip, trying not to laugh as he pointed to the tiny night stand beside the bed.

Gran had left us a can of 3-in-1 oil.

Red and amber lights flashed. A warning klaxon blared in harsh alarm.

Cold fear jerked me awake. Urgent dread demanded action. I sat up, pressing a hand against my chest in a futile attempt to slow my bounding heart. I searched for the clock. It was three forty-five in the morning.

Dan lifted his head. “What is it?” He put a hand on my shoulder.

“Something’s wrong.”

I felt him come alert beside me. “With the baby?” He sat up. Thanks to the oil, the bed was silent.

“No, we’re fine. It’s … it’s something else.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just know something is wrong.”

Dan was silent for a moment, as he rubbed slow circles on my back. Then he said, “I’ll check on Gran.” He padded out the door and down the hall.

I got up and started dressing. We couldn’t stay here. We had to go.

“She’s fine,” Dan said as he slipped back inside our room. “Snoring away.” He took in the fact that I was putting on my clothes. “What’s up?”

“We need to get out of here. Wake your grandmother.”

Dan frowned. “She’s worn out.
You’re
worn out. We should go back to sleep. It’s the middle of the night, babe.” His tone was eminently reasonable.

“I can see that. We still have to leave. You should call your aunt and uncle and your cousins, too.”

Dan rubbed sleep crust out of his eyes. “And tell them what, exactly?”

I paused with my arms inserted in a pullover sweater. What
could
he tell them?
My pregnant wife has a feeling?
I sat down on the edge of the bed. What could I say? “This isn’t hormones. I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

I pulled my arms out of the sweater, and bunched it up in my lap. Dan waited while I opened and closed my mouth several times. I didn’t know how to explain so I didn’t sound nuts.

“Just say it,” he said with a hint of impatience. “It can’t be any stranger than meeting Na-gá in the jungle.”

“I get feelings. That’s what I call them, anyway. Flashes of intuition, if you like that better. Foxworth said I scored pretty well on the psychic skills test when they hired me, but they didn’t put me in one of the training programs, so I couldn’t have done that well. And I never thought my feelings were all that useful.” I bit my lips. I was babbling, but the sensation was getting stronger.

“I don’t have these experiences very often, but when I do, it’s usually something important. I was anxious for days before we found out Mark was
MIA
. That’s also how I know he isn’t dead. And I had a feeling I had to wait that night we met Conrad.”

Dan pursed his lips and sat beside me. “Do you ever have premonitions that don’t work out?”

“Sometimes. Maybe just knowing things changes the things we do, so nothing happens.

“Maybe.”

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed four, each strike sounding like an alarm. “Oh God! We’ve got to go!”

“Take it easy.” Dan pulled me close, with an arm around my shoulders. “You’re okay.”

“Don’t patronize me!” I pulled away and jumped up, glaring at him, then sat down hard again as a wave of dizziness left me blinking.

Dan put a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

In just a few moments I was myself again. I didn’t want him to dismiss me as an hysterical pregnant woman, so I forced myself to speak in a calmer voice. “My ‘feelings’ have been stronger lately. This isn’t a delusion. Something is very wrong.”

He was silent for a long moment, chewing his lip. Then he said, “Okay. I’ll get dressed and wake Gran.”

My heart leapt with gratitude. I could tell he still had reservations, but he was trusting me anyway—or at least giving me the benefit of the doubt.

I started packing as Dan pulled on his clothes. He left the room again, then I heard voices in the kitchen and smelled coffee. Gran was already awake.

I finished stuffing our things into our suitcases. I followed the aroma of frying bacon down the stairs to the kitchen. When I joined them, Gran was bustling around in her blue flannel robe, popping bread into the toaster and cracking eggs into a bowl. I wanted to shout,
We don’t have time for this!
but I managed not to.

“You two are supposed to be honeymooning,” she said as I came into the kitchen. “Not arguing.”