Chapter 25
“Come on, kids,” I yelled upstairs from the foyer. “It’s almost eight o’clock. The guy for the floors will be here any minute. Let’s get moving.” I did my fair share of barking orders lately. My children didn’t know what to make of it. Not even my divorce had made me act this way.
Alex hadn’t called. He didn’t come to see me to talk things over. If he had done either, even though I had asked him to give me time, it would have told me he truly cared about me, about my children and that what happened between us was real and that he wanted to fight for us. Now I felt perturbed he abided my wishes.
Somewhere along the way, I fell in love. That he hadn’t — his non-appearance told me that — made it virtually impossible to bear. It angered me that another of my relationships came to an end. Two for two. What a loser I was. Maybe I should try something different. Or maybe I should forget about love altogether. I seemed no good at it.
To fuel my anger and hurt even more, Irwin never showed himself, nor did I sense his presence. Maybe he left for good. That would solve one problem, at least. Still, though, I wanted to tell him what I learned so he could go to a happy place. The hours I spent at the library and the time I spent with Leroy and Clara dissecting every word they said about my house now seemed a waste of time and energy.
Every wall, ceiling and piece of woodwork on the first floor of my house boasted three coats of paint. I thanked Alex for that. Without hurt driving me, the temptation to set down the paint roller when my shoulders, back and arms fatigued would have been too great.
I took some pleasure in the pile of empty cardboard cartons in the back porch and the neatly arranged cabinets and that the house finally resembled a home, but I had no one to share in my joy and accomplishments. The children seemed to appreciate my efforts, but I needed an adult’s praise. An adult like Alex.
Above me, bedroom doors slammed and heavy footsteps followed a second later.
Benjamin and Katie were not happy Turners. They missed Alex and couldn’t understand why we didn’t kiss and make-up, as they told me numerous times in the past several days. Someone needed to make the first move for that to happen. I didn’t feel it should be me, particularly now that it seemed Alex didn't miss us at all.
Benjamin stomped down the stairs. “Aw, Maw-um. I don’t want to go. Why can’t I spend the weekend at Dad’s? He said it was all right.”
“Yeah, he said I could, too,” Katie piped in.
“You called your father? Who gave you permission to do that?” Like they needed permission to call Jonathan. What did they tell him? That their mother was as twisted as a cork screw and they needed rescuing? Jesus. “I don’t want to argue about it anymore. We are going to Dhoon Mountain and we are going to have fun. Understood?”
“God, Mom, don’t freak.”
This from my daughter who'd put the eek in freak. She had a point, though. I was acting unhinged and needed to chill. “You want me to go to Dhoon Mountain alone?”
“I told Dad we couldn’t be in the house when the floors were being redone because of the fumes, so he said you can come, too,” Benjamin said.
Wouldn’t that be cute? Jonathan’s ex-wife and pregnant mistress spending the night under the same roof. “I don’t think so.”
“Mom, you aren’t being reasonable,” Katie said.
I didn’t feel reasonable. I felt lonely, disillusioned and used. “Is it too much to ask for you to come with me?” I sat on the bottom step and rested my head in my hands. Everything made me edgy, and it took little to annoy me.
A half hour later, I had a car filled with more luggage than needed for an overnight stay and two bickering children in the back seat. I decided to let them go to it. They were upset. I understood that. Just when their lives seemed on an even keel, it was upset again. And I was to blame. Again.
“You’re a fat cow,” Benjamin said.
“You’re a skinny little runt,” Katie answered.
“Beanstalk.”
“Pipsqueak.”
I sighed, put a CD in the player, cranked up the volume and drove to our weekend getaway humming to the tunes of the Rolling Stones.
Sixty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot at Dhoon Mountain, shut off the engine and simply sat there, staring straight ahead while a litany of character complaints stormed in the backseat. I tooted the horn to get their attention.
“Kids, here’s what I’m thinking. We’re going in to register, and we’re going to act like we’re a happy family who can’t wait to hit the slopes. We’re going to smile, and we’re going to have fun.” I paused and noted that both my children were cynics. “No, you’re right. There’s no way we can pull that off.”
Benjamin rose to the challenge as I hoped he would. “Maybe we can.”
“What do you think, Katie? There’s horseback riding.” At this point, a bribe wasn’t beneath me.
She gave Dhoon Mountain a cursory look. “I suppose we could try, but if I don’t like my horse, I’m not staying.”
“Deal.” I needed to find her a damn fine horse.
Benjamin and Katie stood beside me looking like they would rather be anywhere on earth than with me while I lifted luggage from the trunk that weighed, I was sure, a lot less than my heart.
When I'd planned this trip, I intended to ask Alex to join us. No. I wouldn’t think about him. He didn’t want anything to do with my children or me, remember? We were just a means to an end for him. If he truly cared about me, about us, he would have camped out on my veranda and not given up until he held me in his arms.
It snowed, fine snow that promised a storm. My children shared my enthusiasm for winter and all its outdoor activities, and normally the sight would enthrall them. But not even that lessened their anger toward me. I wished they could see their surroundings through excited eyes and appreciate it without the negativity that clouded their judgment.
“Isn’t it beautiful here?” I forced excitement into my voice.
They turned and looked around, but neither of them said anything.
“Smell that fresh, crisp air.” I inhaled deeply. “Heavenly.” I splayed my hands. “At one time this was just a big mountain.”
“Uh-huh,” came from Katie.
Benjamin, who usually spewed words like a broken fire hydrant gushed water, said nothing. I gave up. “Let’s sign in.”
We walked toward the entrance amid a throng of other winter enthusiasts exiting the building. I led the way toward reception with its warm pine-paneled cathedral ceilings and walls.
Mistletoe fig trees and weeping Chinese banyan trees flanked the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the desk sat a sunken gathering area with oversized cushions spread across the hardwood floor. A fire blazed in the stone hearth.
Check-in took all of two minutes and I ushered my kids to the second floor.
Our rooms awashed with winter sunlight and glistened the parquet floor. A mountain of pillows accented the patchwork quilts that draped the beds. Below a large window overlooking the lake sat a love seat in stripes of navy and green. Paintings of snow-laden trees and cabins peeking out from the branches of pine and spruce trees graced the walls. Cotton scatter rugs on the floor in an array of stripes and solid colors created a homey feel.
“I might never leave here,” I said, sighing.
Benjamin and Katie grunted.
I didn’t need ESP to read their minds. “Now, what did we say we were going to do?”
“Smile,” Katie answered glumly.
“Make pretend we’re having a good time,” Benjamin said even more glumly.
Their gusto overwhelmed me. “Okay. Let’s get into our ski suits.”
At seven o’clock, after hours of skiing, sliding, horseback riding and a short break for lunch and mid-afternoon refreshments, we decided we had endured enough fun for one day. In the dining room, we sat at a table covered with a red cloth and a candle burning brightly in the
center.
“The broiled salmon....” Feeling eyes on me, I looked up from the menu and glanced around. Alex stared at me from across the room. A blond-haired, impeccably and expensively dressed woman sat with him. The pain and hurt I experienced would not be greater if he'd plunged a knife into my heart. My breath came in ragged, spasmodic bursts and I thought I might hyperventilate or die.
“Mom, what’s the matter?” Katie asked. “You’re as white as the snow outside.”
I jumped up and ran toward the entryway. In the hallway I dashed toward the restrooms, then swerved to the left toward the front entrance. Tears blurred my vision and I stumbled down the steps. A walk would clear my head. It would take more than that, though, to soothe the ache in my heart.
“Susan,” Alex called from behind me.
He followed me? Why? I turned and faced him. “Leave me alone. I never want to see you Again.”
“Benjamin called me this morning and told me you were coming here with them.”
“So you decided this would be an ideal time to show me you'd moved on, that I meant nothing to you? You made your point. Go back to Miss Impeccably Dressed.” I shooed him away.
“Susan, she’s a business acquaintance. She’s waiting for her husband.”
“And what? I should believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“And I should believe that?”
He hung his head. “I wanted a chance to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” I dashed to the right. He moved with me. I made a move toward the left. He moved with me. People passed by, giving us strange looks. “We’re making spectacles of ourselves. Let me pass. I need to get back to my kids.”
“They’re fine.”
My options seemed limited. Alex would overpower and outrun me. “Okay, talk,” I said sourly.
“No. Not when you’re in this frame of mind.” He cursed and walked away. Then cursed again, turned and stomped toward me.
I wasn’t stupid, but I had no idea whether he intended to take me over his knee and spank me or take me in his arms and kiss me. I heard myself gasp, then everything went hazy when his lips covered mine. My heart raced wildly while my mouth responded to his. My hands curled around his neck and drew him closer.
His hands slid to the pit of my back and dragged me level with his face. The kiss deepened. I moaned. My body trembled against his. Any question that I could easily forget about him was answered.
He released me and stepped back. “All right, then. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
Whaat? I found my voice. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”
He turned and walked toward the building.
What the hell just happened? Did this mean our relationship was over? One last kiss? I ran after him, wanting him in my life more than ever. Happiness would never be mine without him. "Alex. Alex." I huffed my way up the slippery incline, but made no headway toward catching him. By the time I burst through the double doors, he was nowhere in sight. Damn.
Later, back in my room, restless and weary, everything that had happened between Alex and I played and replayed in my mind. Maybe Katie was right in her assessment that everything was either black or white with me. Maybe I didn’t give people the benefit of the doubt or enough credit or didn’t think with an open mind anymore. Otherwise, I would have understood, or at least tried to understand Alex’s position. Jonathan’s lies and betrayal changed not only my life, but how I viewed people and things. Maybe my head needed examining.
I finished the last of the chocolate chip cookies I brought along for a snack, staring at a spot on the floor when there came a light rap on the door. Expecting a waiter with my pot of tea, I flung the door open to Alex instead. I had thought he wanted nothing more to do with me.
“I’d still like a chance to talk. Then if you never want to see me again, I’ll do as you ask.”
When I didn’t answer, he said, “You were still too angry to listen before.”
I jutted my chin. “No, I wasn’t.”
He gave me a look that said ‘Really?’ “Okay, maybe I was.” I peered over my shoulder at my sleeping children. “There’s seating at the end of the hall. We can talk there.”
We sat stiffly across from each other.
“Do you remember when I told you I didn’t think you would understand?”
“Yes. That’s what hurt the most.”
“I’m sorry. I should have known better. My decision not to tell you came from past experience.”
“She ran in the opposite direction?”
“Like a runaway train.” He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, but I can still see the look of horror on her face.” He stood and paced the width of the hallway. “I’ve lived with the stigma of my mother’s actions most of my life, and believed that everyone would think I was just like my alcoholic father and murdering mother.”
“I’m sorry.”
He wiped a tear from my cheek. The tenderness of the act, the tenderness in his eyes — how could he think he was anything like his parents?
“I’ve been over it thousands of times and I still have a hard time believing my mother would take her own life when a child lived inside her.”
“I find it hard to believe, too.”
He stopped in mid-pace. “You do?”
“You’re surprised?”
“I am. I wouldn’t think you were able to think about it at all.”
“You can be wrong.”
“I know.” He hung his head.
“When I think how protective I was while I carried Katie and Benjamin and how protective I still am of them, I can’t imagine an expectant mother or a mother doing anything to deliberately cause her child harm. Maybe it didn’t happen the way the police said it did.”
“What other explanation could there be?”
I recalled the night Katie was almost raped and Jonathan’s anger. If he had hurt Katie….
“Maybe your father and mother fought with the gun and it accidentally went off.”
“Twice?”
I shrugged. “A hair trigger — finger still on the trigger.”
He smiled and brushed a hair from my eyes. “You always want to believe the best.”
Not always, unfortunately.
He sat back down. “How did Leroy learn my true identity? Do you know?”
“He didn’t say. He probably pieced it together when he tried to help Vince and Bridget.
He said your father was a decent, honorable man who liked the bottle too much.”
“It doesn’t excuse what happened.”
No, it didn’t. He shouldn’t have driven drunk.
“Susan, I made a mistake, but it was never my intention to hurt you. Everything that happened between us was real. I wanted … want to be with you, and your kids too.”
I learned a lot in the last few months, and I didn’t want to be hurt again. “I’m not ready yet to pick up where we left off. I'm still conflicted.”
His shoulders slumped. Clearly, he'd hoped differently. I wanted that, too, just not yet.
Forgiveness came easy to me. It would take me time to forget. “Give me a few more days?”
“If that’s what you want.” He stood.
I smiled. “Not too much, though, okay?”
“Understood.”
“And don't pull off any more stunts like you did in the parking lot tonight.”
“Duly noted.”