He stood, looking perplexed himself. He ran a hand through his hair, unconcerned by his nudity. “I don’t know what will happen and I don’t know how long it will take. I just want to take care of it by myself.”
She stared at him, and his words wounded her so deeply she couldn’t begin to repair the pain. She twisted the comforter in her hands, searching to relieve her despair.
“Suzanne…” he began, but she turned her face away. She didn’t care about her dignity anymore; she didn’t care about appearing cold. After everything they’d been through, everything they’d shared, he was still leaving her just like that. He was going to shut her out even though she had so much to give. It hurt.
He crossed over to her, raising her head with his hands. The anger in her eyes stung him.
“I’ll come back, Suzanne,” he whispered.
“When?” she demanded, her voice uncommonly brittle. “In another fifteen years? I don’t want to wait fifteen years, Garret.”
He touched her cheek, but she flinched away. “Soon,” he said. “I promise.”
She could only look at him with bleak eyes. “Another promise in the rain, Garret? God, I’m too old for this.”
The first tear spilled over. He tried to wipe it away, but it was followed by another.
“Trust me,” he could only say. “Please, Suzanne, just trust me.”
But she couldn’t. She’d spent so many nights he’d never know about needing him so badly and he hadn’t been there. So many nights.
She began to weep in earnest, the hot tears streaming shamelessly down her cheeks as her heart tore into pieces.
“I hate you, Garret Guiness,” she whispered brokenly.
In response, he pulled her against him, stroking her hair while her salty tears rolled down his chest. “I hate you, too,” he whispered back and held her close.
He didn’t return in the first two weeks. She told herself it was okay, because there was so much to do. The fire department determined the fire had started from the sun heating up metal, which ignited the gasoline-soaked material. Whether Zlatko had actually lit the fire or not it was considered arson and her policy covered all damages. She’d had to sort through the entire first two stories, sending sootstained rugs, drapes, clothes, linens, everything, out to be steam cleaned.
After estimates were given, contractors arrived to put up temporary supports while ripping out the wreckage. In six weeks or so, they thought they could restore the living room, dining room and entryway. Really, what with getting new floors and windows, she was coming out ahead. Then there was the new furniture and TV.
But it was hard to sort through the ruins, trying to salvage what she could when so much had been lost. All the pictures of past Montgomerys, which had sat on the mantel, were gone, including the one faded photograph of her father in his military uniform. She tried to call Rachel and tell her sister what had happened, but Rachel sounded wary and defensive at the first sound of her older sister’s voice. After ten minutes of a painstakingly awkward conversation, Suzanne had given up and hung up the phone.
It didn’t matter, she told herself. She’d been taking care of things alone for a long time now. At least her roses still looked beautiful.
The damage done to the dining room hurt her the most. Sure, the table had been warped and old, but it had been a Montgomery table, handed down from generation to generation. She felt she’d failed her great-great grandmother in some inexplicable way, and in the years to come, she was sure to be known as the Montgomery woman responsible for the loss of the table.
She allowed her hand to rest hopefully on her stomach, then made her way to the hutch that held her dolls. It was covered in soot and warped from all the water. The windows had exploded from the heat, and as she picked carefully through the glass, she found blackened pieces of porcelain. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t weep, and now she focused her attention on the four dolls she could salvage.
Their dresses were gray with soot, their carefully coiffed hair flattened by the water. She took them out gingerly and held each one like a child.
For the next two days, she bathed them in bleach water while their clothing was dry-cleaned. Then she dried their hair, and with slow, meticulous care, reshaped it into the elaborate styles her own hair would never be able to maintain.
She moved them to the new hotel where she was now staying and they brought her a degree of comfort. Until the morning she woke up with cramps and a headache and knew her castle in the air had just been vanquished.
She sat on the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth while she stared at a phone that refused to ring. She was strong, she told herself again and again and again. She could handle this.
Then she got up and took a long shower.
She began preparing for her kindergarten class, which would begin soon, and managed to pull together the August Maddensfield parade at the final hour. And she even felt genuinely happy when Cagney told her Mitch’s wife, Jessica, had given birth to twin boys, William and Jamie.
The Maddensfield Fair came and went and then September arrived.
She had dinner with Cagney and Marina and Dotti and Henry Guiness. Dotti and Henry’s new home was coming along, as well, smaller this time, Dotti said, since the five kids were gone. She hoped to fill it soon with grandchildren, though, and gave Cagney and Marina a pointed look.
It was a nice dinner until Dotti finally set down her fork and asked if Suzanne had heard from Garret. Her pale face must have been answer enough, because Cagney muttered something fierce under his breath while Marina gave her a sympathetic smile. Suzanne squared her shoulders, picked her own fork back up, and said she imagined he was doing fine. Then she resumed eating food that now tasted like ashes on her tongue.
Classes started, the weather became bearable and the repairs to her house were completed.
And she never heard a word from Garret.
In mid-September, the church held its annual bazaar, and Suzanne went through her attic to find things to donate. She couldn’t seem to come up with much until she went back downstairs and found herself suddenly standing in her new dining room. Garret’s table, small and round and freshly varnished, now sat in the middle; she hadn’t had a chance to buy anything else yet. On the table sat her remaining dolls.
She stared at them for a long time. Then she put them in a box, and not allowing herself to think about it, she took them to the sale.
Her hands trembled a little when she put them on one of the card tables. She arranged their fresh dresses nicely, tucking in their hair here and there.
“Why, Suzanne,” came the Reverend Talbot’s voice in her ear. “Surely you can’t be giving away your dolls.”
She nodded, not able to meet her minister’s eyes for the first time in her life. “They’re just sitting around my place,” she said as briskly as possible. “I thought they might need a little girl who would really love them.”
She felt the solid weight of the Reverend Talbot’s hand on her shoulder, and her hands stilled in the soft pile of lace and cotton. “You’re a strong woman,” he observed softly. “But don’t think you have to be too strong, Suzanne. The Lord knows we all need a helping band now and then.”
“I’m fine,” she whispered, and went back to arranging her children so they’d be beautiful enough to buy.
And they were so beautiful, all white porcelain, black lashes and tumbling blond and brown hair. Bows and tucks of lace and dainty parasols turned them into ladies, soft and feminine, making every little girl’s eyes shine with delight.
She sold every last one of them to one bright-eyed girl after another. She handed each and every one of them over, placing the money firmly in the tin box on the table. By the end of the afternoon, she’d raised eight hundred dollars for the church, and everyone thanked her for her generosity.
That night, Mitch called, wanting to know how she was doing. She said fine and he said once he got his hands on Garret, he’d give him a beating such as he hadn’t experienced since he was twelve. She said she was doing fine again and hung up the phone.
Another night passed until she found herself up again Friday morning, walking, dressing and going to school. She stood before the children in the class, staring at trusting eyes, and realized she couldn’t remember what letter came after
N.
“O,”
Jeff filled in for her at last, and she nodded her head thankfully. She did her best to make it through the morning.
When she walked out at one, she realized she just couldn’t take it anymore. She might say she was fine, she might even act as if she was fine, but she was going through the motions on autopilot, simply waiting for Garret to return.
Well, damn it, she thought to herself as she got into her car, but she wasn’t sixteen years old anymore. She didn’t have to wait. Garret might not want her in D.C., but she was allowed to make up her own mind. If he wouldn’t come to her, if he didn’t have the courage to even call, then she’d just find him and tell him a thing or two.
She drove straight past her house and headed for the airport.
An hour and a half later, she pulled into the long-term parking lot, her hands shaking. She’d get a ticket for D.C. Why not? She didn’t have to teach again until Monday and it wasn’t as if she had any dependents. If she missed a choir practice or two, the universe wouldn’t come to an end.
She was going to D.C.
She fumbled in her purse, digging out her credit card with shaking hands. Her stomach knotted and unknotted as she walked to the airline counter, but she didn’t allow her feet to hesitate. Her cheeks finally had color, and that warm glow of determination was beginning to wash through her blood. She was going to do this!
She’d just stepped up to the waiting attendant when she saw him. Not thirty feet away, he walked past the end of the ticket counters, heading for the escalator leading to the baggage claim. She simply stood there and stared at his retreating back.
“Ma’am?”
She looked at the patient airline attendant with a pale face, then abruptly turned and walked away. Her hands tightened on her purse and she walked faster and faster toward the escalator. Garret stepped on and disappeared from sight. She began to run.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” she mumbled breathlessly, pushing her way through the line of people to run down the escalator. At the bottom, she caught him. “Garret?” she whispered, barely trusting herself to speak.
Slowly, he turned, already recognizing her voice. His face looked pale and haggard, his eyes darker than she remembered. For a long time, they simply stared at each other while thin waves of people broke around them.
“Suzanne,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “I—I…” He didn’t know how to get the words out. “I should have called.”
Wordlessly, she nodded.
“I wanted to,” he said, rushing out. “I thought of it, even reached for the phone so many times, but…but I just didn’t know what to say.” He took a deep breath and looked at her with his dark, honest eyes. “I’m a civilian now,” he said quietly.
Her eyes widened, with shock? with horror? He didn’t know. But then she stepped forward and clasped his hands. It wasn’t enough. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face against her neck.
After fifteen years of service, it hurt him to say those words. Ever since he’d made the decision, it seemed he was swamped with memories of being an enlisted man, his SEAL training, his stint in Officer’s Candidate School. He remembered the men he served with, the teams he served on. Austin, C.J. Jogging along the beach in his T-shirt emblazoned with the eagle, anchor and trident emblem of the SEALs.
Five years from retirement, and suddenly he was just a man.
Suzanne shifted in his arms and he slowly let her go. His eyes stung and he hated himself for the weakness. He’d done what was right.
“What happened?” she asked at last.
“I was debriefed about Sarajevo,” he said. “Filled out some reports. There was a small trial over my conduct, the fact I told Zlatko who I was. Finally, given my past record and the ‘extenuating circumstances,’ they gave me a reprimand and a mark in my file. But…but I was burned-out before I ever went to Sarajevo, and really burned-out once it was over. It seemed best for me just to take a break from things, try out something new. I had a lot of leave time saved up, and only a few months left on my current service term. I’m a civvy now.”
“You should have called and told me,” she whispered, but there was no heat in her voice. He looked as if he was hurting, and she never could stand to see Garret Guiness in pain.
“I know. I didn’t know what to say. For a while, I didn’t know what I wanted.” He paused for a long time, and she found her stomach suddenly twisting into knots. “I have something for you,” he said abruptly.
He turned and, without preamble, walked to the baggage conveyor belt. Luggage was already gliding along the slow twisting belt.
“I wanted to give you a better present,” he said, glancing at her with an intense, unreadable expression. “How’s your house?”
“Fixed,” she said, hating the nervousness shivering through her. A present? Were they back trying to even the slate? A long, rectangular box appeared, and Garret looked unsure. As he pulled it off the belt, she could almost have sworn he looked nervous, as well.
“I wanted to sneak in and set it up,” he said, “to surprise you. I’m not sure it’s the same to simply hand you a box.”
She looked at it numbly. It was tied with rope and was taller than herself. “What is it?” she asked, finally finding words.
“A doll case. Cherry wood. I thought it would go with the table. It has glass shelves that are adjustable. Of course, I need to put it together.” He looked at her expectantly.
She couldn’t say anything. She tried, but each time she opened her mouth no sound came out. Her throat tightened unbearably.
“I made it for you,” he said, “over the past couple of months.”
Oh, he was definitely nervous, his eyes more uncertain than she’d ever seen them. Slowly, she pulled herself together enough to lay a hand on his arm.