White Lace and Promises (12 page)

Glenn made several attempts at light conversation during their meal, but nothing seemed
to ease the strained silence that had fallen over them. A glance at his watch reminded him that within a few hours he would be on a plane for Charleston. He didn’t want to leave, but in some ways felt it was for the best. Maggie seemed to assume that she wouldn’t be going with him, and he was disappointed that she hadn’t shown the willingness to travel with him. He might have made an issue of it if he hadn’t thought a short separation would help them both become accustomed to their marriage without the issue of sleeping together. Those weeks would give Maggie the opportunity to settle things within her own mind. When he came back to her, they would take up their lives as man and wife, and perhaps she’d come to him willingly as she had that first night. That was what he wanted.

The drive back to the house and then on to the airport seemed to take a lifetime. With each mile, Maggie felt her heart grow heavier. She was apprehensive and didn’t know how to deal with it. She and Glenn had been together such a short time that separating now seemed terribly wrong. Unreasonable jealousy ate at her, and Maggie had to assure herself repeatedly that Glenn probably wouldn’t even be seeing the other woman. She was, after all, married to another man or so Glenn had told her. But Maggie didn’t gain a whit’s comfort from knowing that. For the first time in recent memory, she found herself in a situation where money wasn’t part of the solution.

As they left the airport parking garage, Glenn’s hand took hers. “I won’t be long,” he promised. “I’ll need to get everything settled at the office, list the condominium with a realtor, and settle loose business ties—that kind of thing. I can’t see it taking more than two weeks, three at the most.”

“The weeks will fly by,” she said on a falsely cheerful note. “Just about the time I clean out enough closet space for you, you’ll be back.”

“I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t necessary,” Glenn assured her as they approached the ticketing desk to check in his luggage.

“I know that.” Maggie hugged her waist, feeling a sudden and unexpected chill. “I’m not worried about … you know.”
Liar
, her mind tossed back.

Their shoes made a clicking sound as they walked together toward security.

Maggie had the horrible feeling she was about to cry, which, she knew, was utterly ridiculous. She rarely cried, yet her throat felt raw and scratchy and her chest had tightened with pent-up emotion. All the things she wanted to say stuck in her throat and she found that she
couldn’t say a thing.

“Take care of yourself,” Glenn murmured, holding her by the shoulders.

“I will,” she promised and buried her hands deep within the pockets of her raincoat. Even those few words could barely escape.

Glenn fastened the top button of her coat, and when he spoke his voice was softly gruff. “It looks like rain. Drive carefully.”

“I always do. You’ll note that you’re here on time.” She made a feeble attempt at humor.

Tiny laugh lines fanned out from his eyes. “Barely. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed that by now my flight’s probably boarding. Married two days, and I’m already picking up your bad habits.”

His observation prompted a soft smile. “You’ll phone?” She turned soft, round eyes to him.

“Yes,” he promised in a husky murmur. “And if you need me, don’t hesitate to call.” He had written down both his work and home numbers in case she had to get in touch with him.

“You’ll phone tonight.” It became immensely important that he did. She pulled her hands from her pockets and smoothed away an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder. Her hand lingered there. “I’ll miss you.” Even now if he hinted that he wanted her with him, she’d step on that plane. If necessary, she’d buy the stupid plane.

“I’ll phone, but it’ll be late,” Glenn explained.

“I don’t mind.… I probably won’t sleep, anyway.” She hadn’t meant to admit that much and felt a rush of color creep up her neck and into her cheeks.

“Me, either,” he murmured. His hands tightened on her upper arms and he gently brought her against his bulky sweater. With unhurried ease his mouth moved toward hers. The kiss flooded her with a swell of emotions she had tasted only briefly in his arms. She was hot, on fire, and cold as ice. Hot from his touch, cold with fear. His kiss sent a jolt rocketing through her, and she fiercely wrapped her arms around his neck. Her mind whirled and still she clung, afraid that if Glenn ever released her she’d never fully recover from the fall. Dragging in a deep breath, Maggie buried her face in his neck.

Glenn wrapped his arms around her waist and half lifted her from the floor. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

She nodded, because speaking was impossible.

When he released her, his gaze was as gentle as a caress and as tender as a child’s touch. Maggie offered him a feeble smile. Glenn turned up the collar of her coat. “Stay warm.”

Again she nodded. “Phone me.”

Glenn claimed Maggie’s lips again in a brief but surprisingly ardent kiss. “I’ll call the minute I land.”

With hands in her pockets for fear she’d do something silly like reach out and ask him not to go, or beg him to ask her to come, she said, “Hurry now, or you’ll miss the flight.”

Glenn took two steps backward. “The time will go fast.”

“Yes,” she said, not exactly sure what she was agreeing to.

“You’re my wife, Maggie. I’m not going to forget that.”

“You’re my husband,” she whispered and choked back the tears that filled her eyes and blurred her vision.

Then tossing a glance over his shoulder, he hurriedly handed the TSA agent his boarding pass and driver’s license.

“Go on,” she encouraged, not wanting him to see her cry. From all the emotion that was raging through her, one would assume that Glenn was going off to war and was unlikely to return. Her stomach was in such tight knots that she couldn’t move without pain. Rooted to the spot close to security, Maggie stood as she was until Glenn turned and ran toward his gate. When she could, she stepped to the window and whispered, “New rule for this marriage … don’t ever leave me again.”

The days passed in a blur. Not since art school had Maggie worked harder or longer. Denny phoned her twice. Once to thank her for the “loan” and later to talk to her about the top-notch lawyer he had on retainer. The attorney was exactly who he had hoped would pursue his case, and his spirits were high. Maggie was pleased for Denny and prayed that this would be the end of his problems.

Without Glenn, sound sleep was impossible. She’d drift off easily enough and then jerk awake a couple of hours later, wondering why the bed seemed so intolerably large. Usually she slept in the middle of the mattress, but she soon discovered that she rested more comfortably on
the side where Glenn had slept. She missed him. The worst part was the unreasonableness of the situation. Glenn had spent less than twenty-four hours in her home, yet without him the beach house felt like a silent tomb.

As he promised, Glenn had phoned the night he arrived back in Charleston and again three days later. Maggie couldn’t recall any three days that seemed longer. A thousand times she was convinced her mind had conjured up both Glenn and their marriage. The marquise diamond on her ring finger was the only tangible evidence that the whole situation hadn’t been a fantasy and that they really were married. Because she was working so hard and long she removed it for safekeeping, but each night she slipped it on her finger. Maggie didn’t mention the wedding to her parents or any of her friends, and Denny didn’t notice anything was different about her. She didn’t feel comfortable telling everyone she was married, and wouldn’t until Glenn had moved in with her and they were confident that their marriage was on firm ground.

Glenn phoned again on the fifth day. Their conversation was all too brief and somewhat stilted. Neither of them seemed to want it to end, but after twenty minutes, there didn’t seem to be anything more to say.

Replacing the receiver, Maggie had the urge to cry. She didn’t, of course, but it was several minutes before she had composed herself enough to go on with her day.

Nothing held her interest. Television, music, solitaire—everything bored her. Even the housekeeper lamented that Maggie had lost her appetite and complained about cooking meals that Maggie barely touched. Glenn filled every waking thought and invaded her dreams. Each time they spoke she had to bite her tongue to keep from suggesting she join him; her pride wouldn’t allow that. The invitation must come from him, she believed. Surely he must realize that.

As for Angie, the woman in Glenn’s past, the more Maggie thought about the situation, the more angry she became with herself. Glenn hadn’t deceived her. They both were bearing scars from the past. If it wasn’t love that cemented their marriage then it was something equally strong. Between them there was security and understanding.

The evening of the eighth day the phone rang just as Maggie was scrounging through the desk looking for an address. She stared at the telephone. Caller ID told her it was Glenn.

“Hello,” she answered, happily leaning back in the swivel chair, anticipating a long conversation.

“Hi.” His voice sounded vital and warm. “How’s everything?”

“Fine. I’m a little bored.” Maggie was astonished that she could sound so blasé about her traumatic week. “A little bored” soft-pedaled all her frustrations. “What about you?”

Glenn hesitated, then announced, “I’ve run into a small snag on my end of things.”
A small snag is the understatement of the century
, he thought. Things had been in chaos from the minute he had returned. The company supervisor had paid a surprise visit to him Thursday afternoon and had suggested an audit because of some irregularity in the books. The audit had gone smoothly enough, but Glenn had worked long hours and had been forced to reschedule several appointments. In addition, the realtor who listed the condominium offered little hope that it would sell quickly.

And worse, Glenn was miserable without Maggie. He wanted her with him. She was his wife, yet pride dictated that he couldn’t ask her. The suggestion would have to come from her. Even a hint would be enough. He would pick up on a hint, but she had to be the one to give it.

“A small snag?” Her heart was pounding so hard and strong that she felt breathless.

“I’ve got several accounts here that have deals pending. I can’t leave my clients in the lurch. Things aren’t going as smoothly as I’d like, Maggie,” he admitted.

“I see.” Maggie’s vocabulary suddenly decreased to words of one syllable.

“I can’t let them down.” He sounded as frustrated as she felt. A deafening silence grated over the telephone line, and it was on the tip of Glenn’s tongue to cast his stupid pride to the wind and ask her to join him.

“Don’t worry, I understand,” she said in an even tone, congratulating herself for maintaining firm control of her voice. On the inside she was crumbling to pieces. She wanted to be with him. He was her husband, and her place was at his side. Closing her eyes, she mentally pleaded with him to say the words—to ask her to come to Charleston. She wouldn’t ask, couldn’t ask. It had to come from Glenn.

“In addition, there are several loose ends that are going to require more time than I originally planned.” He sounded almost angry, an emotion that mirrored her own frustration.

“I think we were both naïve to think you could make it back in such a short time.”

“I suppose we were.”
Come on, Maggie
, he pleaded silently.
If you miss me, say something. At least meet me halfway in this
.

The line went silent again, but Maggie didn’t want to end the conversation. She waited
endless hours for his calls. They would talk for ten minutes, hang up, and immediately she’d start wondering how long it would be before he phoned again.

“The weather’s been unseasonably cold. There’s been some talk of freezing temperatures,” Maggie said out of desperation, to keep the conversation going.

“Don’t catch cold.”
Damn it, Maggie, I want you here. Can’t you hear it in my voice?

“I won’t,” she promised.
Please
, she wanted to scream at him,
ask me to come to Charleston
. With her eyes shut, she mentally transmitted her need to have him ask her. “I’ve been too busy in the studio to venture outside.”

“Brueghel or Frankenthaler?” Glenn questioned, his voice tinged with humor. “However, I’m sure that either one would be marvelous and wonderful.” He smiled as he said it, wanting her with him all the more just to see what other crazy rules she’d come up with for their marriage.

“This one’s a Margaret Kingsbury original,” she said proudly. Maggie had worked hard on her latest project and felt confident that Glenn would approve.

“It can’t be.” Glenn stiffened and tried to disguise the irritation in his voice.

Maggie tensed, wondering what she had said wrong. He hadn’t approved of her art, but surely he didn’t begrudge her the time she spent on it when he was away.

“Your name’s Lambert now,” Glenn stated.

“I … forgot.”
Remind me again
, she pleaded silently.
Ask me to come to Charleston
. “I haven’t told anyone yet.… Have you?”