Leota's Garden (39 page)

She clung to him and sobbed harder, thinking of all the ways she had neglected him lately. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said with a hint of humor. “Just got lucky, I guess.”

She drew back slightly and smiled up at him through her tears. What would she do without him? She remembered the harsh words she had spoken only yesterday. She thought of the account he had lost because of her forgetfulness. “You forgive me everything.” He was the kindest man she had ever met. His gentle spirit had been one of the things that attracted her to him.

“We need help, Nora. We can’t go on this way.”

A niggling fear coursed through her. She could hear some inner bell tolling the death of another marriage. Kindness before the killing blow.

“You were the first woman I ever loved,” Bryan had said the night before he walked out on her. The note he left behind was the last thing he ever wrote to her. Including child support checks. How a man could manage to disappear so quickly and completely, she had never been able to understand.

Dean hadn’t been so nice about it. “If you have anything to say to me, do it through your lawyer.”

Nora shriveled inside.
I can’t go through it again. God, help me. I can’t.

Whatever Fred wanted, she would do. She couldn’t bear to fail again. She was so weary of the fight, sick of life, sick of herself. “Maybe you’re right,” she said meekly. “What do you think we should do?”

“Start by meeting with the pastor.”

“He doesn’t like me.” She withdrew from his arms and turned away. “I went to him a couple of weeks ago asking for help.”

“And?”

She put her arms around herself. “He said I wasn’t a Christian.”

“Why would he say a thing like that?”

Didn’t he believe her? “Well, he didn’t say it straight out. He implied it.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I reminded him how long I’ve been going to that church and how much money we’ve given and then I left.”

“I meant before,” Fred said quietly. “To give him that impression.”

“I don’t remember.”

Fred didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to utter a word. She felt ashamed and embarrassed and defensive. Her emotions were so muddled. She didn’t want to think about Pastor Burnie. She didn’t want to think about what he said, what she said . . .

She turned back to Fred. “Maybe if we go away for a weekend. To San Francisco. Or better yet, Carmel. We could get off by ourselves. Just the two of us.”

“It’s just the two of us now, Nora.”

Hurt spread through her, gripping her heart. “You needn’t remind me that Anne’s left home without so much as a kiss good-bye.” She turned away. “That was cruel, Fred, and after I’ve had such a horrid day.” She rubbed her temple, feeling the beginning of another headache coming on. “I called Anne-Lynn this morning. She said she was on her way to art class when what she really meant was she didn’t want to talk to me for even one minute,” she said bitterly. “She didn’t even give me the chance to tell her how sick I’ve been and all the tests I’ve endured.”

All to find out there was nothing wrong with her. That it was all in her head. Stress. And who was to blame for that?

Fred took her shoulders. “Annie’s grown up, Nora. You can’t make her come home and be your little girl again.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that!”

He let go of her. “Weren’t you? As long as she was here, you could tell her what to do. She has to learn to stand on her own.”

She turned. “That’s not true. I’ve never tried to run her life.”

“You didn’t try, Nora. You
did
. The poor girl couldn’t breathe without you telling her how much air she could take in.”

“How can you say such a thing? All I’ve ever done is love—”

“For as long as I’ve known you and Annie, you’ve been running her life. Control, Nora. That’s what it’s all about with you, isn’t it? I have to tell you, I was proud of her when she finally stood up to you and left.”

Nora stared up at him, stunned. “Proud?”

“Yes, proud!”

Defensive anger welled up inside her. “You just didn’t want her around anymore—isn’t that what you really mean? You were jealous of our relationship. You never did understand how close we were. She wasn’t
your
child. She was
mine
.” She saw the look on his face and knew her words were like daggers in his heart. Let them be. He had hurt her first. “The sooner Annie was out of here, the sooner you thought you’d have me all to yourself to do whatever you want whenever you want.”

As the torrent of angry words poured from her mouth, part of her was screaming.
Why are you doing this to him? Stop it. Stop it!
Yet the flood came pouring down, drowning them both in her bitterness.

How many words did it take to do irrevocable damage?

Silence reigned between them for a full minute before Fred spoke in a weary voice. “When have you ever done anything someone else wanted, Nora?”

“I’m always doing for others. I’ve done everything for them from the time they were babies. You can’t understand how I feel because you’ve never had children of your own.”

“I wanted them, Nora, but you weren’t willing.”

“Don’t throw that in my face now, Fred. How could I think about having a baby when Michael was in college and Anne-Lynn was consuming so much of my time?” She heard her own words echo and saw the expression on his face. “I
love
Annie.”

“That may be, Nora, but you love yourself more. You love yourself above everyone and everything.”

She stared, bereft. “How can you
say
that to me after all I’ve done for them? When Annie left, I was devastated. You know I was.”

“Oh, I know. Everyone knows. But the truth is you were devastated for all the wrong reasons. You thought you were in control. You had her future all laid out, years ahead.”

“She
wanted
to go to college!”

“No, Nora.
You
wanted her to go to college! All I’ve ever heard is how much
you
wanted to go and never had the chance. I always wanted to ask. What stopped you?”

“What are you saying? That I should go to school
now
?”

“It takes guts to live your own life, doesn’t it, Nora? All you’ve ever done is tell others how to run theirs. All you’ve ever done is bully your children into living for you.”

She was furious. “How can you say such cruel things to me?”

He sighed. “I’m saying it because it’s the sorry truth, and it’s about time you hear it from someone who loves you.”

“Love? Is that what you call this? You don’t know the first thing about love!”

He went back into the empty family room and sat down, eyes straight ahead on the droning television. “Have you ever asked yourself why your son never calls or comes home? Michael was the first one you drove away. No, I take that back. Maybe it was Bryan Taggart.”

Pain swept through her. “I hate you.” She was weeping again.

“You’ve never faced the truth about anything.”

“It’s
not
the truth. Michael cares.”

“About what?” Picking up the remote, Fred changed the channel.

Himself,
came the betraying thought. She rebelled against it. “You don’t know my son the way I do.”

“I know his mother. That’s enough.” Fred turned up the volume.

Trembling, Nora snatched up her purse and went upstairs. Tossing her purse into a wing chair, she yanked off her camel-hair blazer and went into her closet to hang it up. She was still shaking violently. She sat on the edge of the bed. Fred’s words kept ringing in her ears:
“It takes guts to live your own life. . . . You thought you were in control . . .”

“He’s wrong.”

Look around you.

Raising her head, Nora looked at the elegant Ethan Allen furnishings, the expensive draperies, the faint, peach-colored walls with original oil paintings and signed prints she had purchased from an exclusive San Francisco gallery. She had picked out everything herself, sparing no expense. How many thousands of dollars had she spent doing this room exactly the way she wanted it? Had she ever asked Fred what he might like?

She had done every room in this house the same way, including Michael’s and Anne’s. She had poured blessings lavishly upon her children. They had only the best. The best schools, the best neighborhood, the best clothing, the best toys, the best lessons, the most affluent church, the right friends.

To what purpose? To what end?

“It takes guts to live your own life. . . .”

I sacrificed for them!

She heard a still, small voice questioning her.
Did you, beloved?

I did. I did! I wanted Michael and Anne-Lynn to have a better life than the one I had. I wanted to be there for them the way my mother never was for me. I wanted to give them everything I ever wanted. I wanted . . . I wanted . . .
love
.

Nora covered her face with her hands, and her bitter weeping drowned out the quiet, beckoning voice of the very thing she sought.

Ruth came out of the bathroom and stared at Corban, her face ashen, her eyes red. “Guess what?” She held out a white, plastic object.

“What?” He peered at it, baffled. Her eyes were burning with anger, boring into him with dark accusation. “What is it?”

“A pregnancy test! What do you think it is?” She thrust it in front of him. “It’s blue. See? Positive!” She uttered a foul expletive.

He could feel the blood running out of his face. His body was going cold, then hot. “I thought you were on the pill.”

“I
am
on the pill. Not that birth control should be my sole responsibility!”

“That’s not what I meant.” He tried to stay calm. He tried to think. “How far along?”

“Two months. Three. I don’t know! I didn’t even think about it until I started throwing up a few days ago.” She threw the test into the trash beside his desk and cursed again. “Jessie said I might be pregnant. So I thought I’d better find out.”

Corban didn’t know what to say. A baby! The first thought that came to him was how had he managed to get himself into this mess and how was he going to get himself out of it. Over the past few weeks, he had come to realize he wasn’t in love with Ruth Coldwell. In fact, he wasn’t sure he liked her all that much. Their affair had started in lust, pure and simple. Well, maybe not so pure. He had begun to wonder about Ruth’s feelings within the first few months of living with her. Her motives had become pretty clear. She had needed someone to bankroll her living expenses while she went through school on scholarships. She liked his apartment, his car, his bank account. Pretty simple to figure out once ego was out of the way.

Well, now things weren’t so simple.

“Stop looking at me that way!” she said, angry and distressed.

“What way?”

“Like I
planned
this pregnancy.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Darn right I didn’t. The last thing I wanted was to get pregnant.” She looked down as though she couldn’t even bear to touch herself. “I’ve already gained two pounds.” She burst into tears. “Why did this have to happen? Everything was so perfect!”

Perfect?

He could feel the perspiration beading on his forehead. His heart was pounding. His stomach was in a knot. Ruth was pregnant with his child. He looked at the plastic test in the trash and felt a rush of heat through him. Was it shame? Fear? Wonder? He couldn’t even begin to assess the feelings stirring in him. He had to think, but she was pacing like a caged animal. He wanted to quiet her, to calm her. “We’ll work it out, Ruth.”

She stopped and glared. “Work what out?”

“What we’re going to do.” He stood up and went to her. “This isn’t just your problem, you know. We’re in it together.”

Her shoulders hunched slightly. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said bleakly. “I’ve been so careful.” Corban drew her close when she began to cry. He had never seen or heard Ruth cry. He didn’t think she could.

“It’ll be all right.” He rubbed her back, as though she were a frightened child, he the adult. He took on his new role of comforter willingly, if not eagerly. The panic was passing, the possibilities rising. He felt strangely protective. “People have had babies before us and made it through school.”

She went rigid in his arms. “You’re not suggesting I have it, are you?” She drew back from him. “Don’t even go down that road, Cory.”

He went cold inside at the look on her face. “Why not? You’d be done with the school year before—”

“No way!” Her eyes were hot. “Are you out of your mind?”

He frowned. “I graduate in June.”

“Well, I
don’t
.” She turned and walked away, sitting in the chair on the other side of the room. Crossing her legs Indian fashion, she gripped her knees and looked at him coolly. “What about grad school? You’re
going to graduate magna cum laude. You’ve already had an interview at Stanford. I still have another year . . .”

“You could transfer.”

“Yeah, right. And who’s going to pay
my
tuition? Santa Claus? My scholarship is
here
. I can’t go off to whatever college I want. I don’t have a trust fund.”