White Lace and Promises
As impractical as it sounded, Maggie would have liked to continue the friendship with Angie. Rarely had Maggie experienced such an immediate kinship with another woman. Impractical and illogical. Of all the people in the world, Maggie would have thought she’d despise Angie Canfield. But she didn’t. Now, weeks later, Maggie felt the need to write the other woman and extend her appreciation for their afternoon together and to wish her and Simon the warmest of holiday greetings. The letter had been interrupted by Glenn’s homecoming, and she had safely tucked it away from the other cards she kept on top of her desk.
“I still have several things that need to be done before Christmas,” she said in order to hide her discomfort.
Glenn was silent for a moment. “You look guilty about something. I bet you went out shopping today and couldn’t resist buying yourself something.”
“I didn’t!” she declared with a cheery laugh.
Later, in the den, when Glenn was looking over some figures, Maggie joined him. She sat in the chair opposite his desk. When Maggie glanced up she found her husband regarding her lazily with a masked expression, and she wondered at his thoughts.
On the other side of the desk, Glenn studied his wife, thinking that she was more beautiful that night than he ever remembered. Her eyes shone with a translucent happiness, and a familiar sensation tugged at his heart. Something was troubling her tonight … no, troubling was too strong a word. She was hiding something from him. Which was natural, he supposed. It was Christmastime, and she had probably cooked up some scheme for his gift, yet Glenn had the feeling this had nothing to do with Christmas.
Convinced he shouldn’t go looking for trouble, he shook his mind free of the brooding sensation. Whatever it was probably involved Denny, and it was just as well that he didn’t know. It would only anger him.
Glenn pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to need a cup of coffee to keep these figures straight. Do you want one?”
Maggie glanced up from the book she was reading and shook her head. The caffeine would keep her awake. “No thanks,” she said as he left the room.
The phone rang, and Glenn called out that he’d answer it. The information didn’t faze Maggie until she realized that he had probably gone into her office since the phone was closer there.
He returned a minute later, strolling into the room with deceptive casualness. “It’s your leeching brother,” he told her.
Chapter Eleven
“Glenn, what a nasty thing to say.” Maggie couldn’t help knowing that Glenn disapproved of the way she gave Denny money, but she hadn’t expected him to be so blunt or openly rude. “I hope Denny didn’t hear you,” she murmured, coming to her feet. “He feels terrible about the way things have turned out.”
“If he honestly felt that, he wouldn’t continue to come running to you at every opportunity.”
Straightening her shoulders to a military stiffness, Maggie marched from the room and picked up the telephone. “Hello, Denny.”
A short silence followed. “Hi. I take it I should call back another time.”
“No,” she contradicted firmly. She wasn’t going to let Glenn intimidate her out of speaking to her own brother. “I can talk now.”
“I just wanted to tell you that my lawyer didn’t have anything new to tell me regarding our case. It looks like this thing could be tied up in the courts for years. I’m telling you, Maggie, this whole mess is really getting me down.
“But you don’t need to worry, I’m here to help you.” she offered sympathetically.
“But Glenn—”
“What I do with my money is none of his concern.” In her heart, Maggie knew that Glenn was right, but Glenn was a naturally strong person, and her brother wasn’t to be blamed if he was weak. They had to make allowances for Denny, help him.
“You honestly mean that about helping, don’t you?” Denny murmured, relief and appreciation brightening his voice.
“You know I do.”
Ten minutes later, Maggie rejoined her husband. All kinds of different emotions were coming at her. She was angry with Glenn for being so unsympathetic to her brother’s troubles, infuriated with Denny because he pushed all the right buttons with her, and filled with self-derision because she gave in to Denny without so much as a thoughtful pause. Denny had only to give his now familiar whine and she handed him a signed check.
“Well?” Glenn glanced up at her.
“Well what?”
“He asked for money, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
“And you’re giving it to him?”
“I don’t have much choice. Denny is my brother.”
“But you’re not helping him, Maggie, don’t you see that?”
“No,” she cried, and to her horror, tears welled in her eyes. It was so unlike her to cry over something so trivial that Maggie had trouble finding her breath, which caused her to weep all the louder.
Glenn stood and gently pulled her into his arms. “Maggie, what is it?”
“You … Denny … me.” She sobbed and dramatically shook her hands. “This court case might take years to decide. He needs money. You don’t want me to lend him any, and I’m caught right in the middle.”
“Honey, listen.” Glenn stood and gently placed his arms around her. “Will you do something for me?”
“Of course,” she responded on a hiccuping sob. “What?”
“Call Denny back and tell him he can’t have the money—”
“I can’t do that,” she objected, shaking his arms free. She hugged her waist and moved into the living room, where a small blaze burned in the fireplace. The warmth of the fire chased the chill from her arms.
“Hear me out,” Glenn said, following her. “Have Denny give me a call at the office in the morning. If he needs money, I’ll loan it to him.”
Maggie was skeptical. “But why?”
“I don’t want him troubling you anymore. I don’t like what he’s doing to you, and, worse, what he’s doing to himself.” He paused, letting her take in his offer. “Agreed?”
She offered him a watery smile and nodded.
With Glenn standing at her side, Maggie phoned Denny back and gave the phone over to her husband a few minutes later. Naturally, Denny didn’t seem overly pleased with the prospect of having to go through Glenn, but he had no choice. Maggie should have been relieved that Glenn was handling the difficult situation, but she wasn’t.
In the morning, Maggie woke feeling slightly sick to her stomach. She lay in bed long after Glenn had left for the office, wondering if she could be pregnant. The tears the evening before had been uncharacteristic, and she’d had a terrible craving for Chinese food lately that was driving her crazy. For three days in a row she had eaten lunch in Chinatown. None of the symptoms on their own was enough for her to make the connection until this morning.
A smile formed as Maggie placed a hand on her flat stomach and slowly closed her eyes. A baby. Glenn would be so pleased. He’d be a wonderful father. She’d watched him with Denny’s girls on Thanksgiving and had been astonished at his patience and gentleness. The ironic part was all these weeks she’d been frantically searching for just the right Christmas gift for Glenn, and all along she’d been nurturing his child in her womb. They both wanted children. Oh, she’d get him the bookcases he had admired, but she’d keep the gift he’d prize most a secret until Christmas morning.
Not wanting to be overconfident without a doctor’s confirmation, Maggie made an appointment for that afternoon, and her condition was confirmed in a matter of minutes. Afterward, she was bursting with excitement. Her greatest problem would be keeping it from Glenn when she wanted to sing and dance with the knowledge.
When Maggie returned to the beach house, Rosa had left a message that Denny had phoned. Maggie returned his call immediately.
“How did everything go with Glenn?” she asked him brightly. Nothing would dim the brilliance of her good news, not even Denny?
??s sullen voice.
“Fine, I guess.”
“There isn’t any problem with the money, is there?” Glenn wouldn’t be so cruel as to refuse to make the loan when he’d assured her he’d help her brother. Maggie was confident he wouldn’t do anything like that. Glenn understood the situation.
“Yes and no.”
Her hand tightened around the receiver. “How do you mean? He’s giving you the money, isn’t he?”
“He’s lending me the money, but he’s got a bunch of papers he wants me to sign, and in addition he’s set up a job interview for me. He actually wants me to go to work.”
By the time Denny finished with his sorry tale, Maggie was so furious she could barely speak. Lending him the money, making him sign for it, a job interview. Glenn had told her he was going to help her brother. Instead, he was stripping Denny of what little pride he had left.
By the time Glenn arrived home that evening, he found Maggie pacing the floor. Sparks of anger flashed from her dark eyes as she spun around to face him.
“What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like I was Jack the Ripper.”
“Did you honestly tell Denny that he couldn’t borrow the money unless he got a job?” she said in accusation. Her hands were placed defiantly on her hips, challenging Glenn to contradict her.
Unhurriedly, Glenn removed his raincoat one arm at a time and hung it in the hall closet. “Is there something wrong with an honest day’s toil?”
“It’s humiliating to Denny. He’s … accustomed to a certain lifestyle now … He can’t lower himself to take a job like everyone else and—”
Maggie could tell by the way Glenn’s eyes narrowed that he was struggling to maintain his own irritation. “I live in a fancy beach house with you and somehow manage to suffer the humiliation.”
“Glenn,” she cried. “It’s different with Denny.”
“How’s that?”
Unable to remain still, Maggie continued to stalk the tiled entryway like a circus lion confined to a cage. “Don’t you understand how degrading that would be to him?”
“No,” Glenn returned starkly. “I can’t. Denny made a mistake. Any fool knows better than to place the majority of his funds in one investment, no matter how secure it appears. The time has come for your brother to own up to the fact he made a serious mistake, and pay the consequences of his actions. I can’t and won’t allow him to sponge off you any longer, Maggie.”
The tears sprang readily to the surface. Oh how she hated to cry. Hopefully she wouldn’t be like this the entire pregnancy. “But don’t you understand?” she blubbered, her words barely intelligible. “I inherited twice the money Denny did.”
“And he’s made you feel guilty about that.”
“No,” she shouted. “He’s never said a word.”
“He hasn’t had to. You feel guilty enough about it, but my love, trust me, Denny will feel better about you, about himself, about life in general. You can’t give him the self-worth he needs by handing him a check every time he asks for it.”
“You don’t understand my brother,” Maggie cried. “I can’t let you do this to him. I … I told you once that I wanted you to stay out of this.”
“Maggie—”
“No, you listen to me. I’m giving Denny the money he wants. I told him that he didn’t need to sign anything, and he doesn’t need to get a job. He’s my brother, and I’m not going to turn my back on him. Understand?”
Silence crackled in the room like the deadly calm before an electrical storm. A muscle leaped in Glenn’s jaw, twisting convulsively.
“If that’s the way you want it.” His voice was both tight and angry.
“It is,” she whispered.
What Maggie didn’t want was the silent treatment that followed. Glenn barely spoke to her the remainder of the evening, and when he did, his tone was barely civil. It was clear that Glenn considered her actions a personal affront. Maybe it looked that way to him, she reasoned, but she’d explained long ago that she preferred to handle her brother herself. Glenn had interfered, and now they were both miserable.
When morning arrived to lighten the dismal winter sky, Maggie rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, realizing she was alone. The oppressive gray light of those early hours invaded the bedroom and a heaviness settled onto Maggie’s heart. She climbed from the bed and felt sick and dizzy once again, but her symptoms were more pronounced this morning. Her mouth felt like dry, scratchy cotton.
Glenn had already left for the office, and the only evidence of his presence was an empty coffee cup in the kitchen sink. Even Rosa looked at Maggie accusingly, and for one crazy instant Maggie wondered how the housekeeper knew that she and Glenn had argued. That was the crazy part—they hadn’t really fought. Maybe if they had, the air would have been cleared.
The crossword puzzle didn’t help occupy her mind, and Maggie sat at the kitchen table for an hour, drinking cup after cup of watered-down apple juice while sorting through her thoughts. With a hand rubbing her throbbing temple, Maggie tried to remember how Glenn had been as a youth when he was angry with someone. She couldn’t recall that he had ever held a grudge or been furious with anyone for long. That was a good sign.
Tonight she’d talk to him, she decided, try to make him understand why she had to do this for Denny. If the situation was reversed and it was either of his brothers, Glenn would do exactly the same thing. Maggie was sure of it.
Because of the Christmas holidays, the stock market was traditionally slow, and Glenn had been home before six every night for the past week. He wasn’t that night. Nor was he home at seven, or eight. He must be unbelievably angry, she thought, and a part of Maggie wondered if he’d ever be able to completely understand her actions. Apparently, he found it easier to blame her than to realize that he’d forced her into the situation. Maggie spent a miserable hour watching a television program she normally disliked.
The front door clicked open, and Maggie pivoted sharply in her chair, hoping Glenn’s gaze would tell her that they’d talk and clear up the air between them.
Glenn shrugged off his coat and hung it in the hall closet. Without a word, he moved into his den and closed the door, leaving Maggie standing alone and miserable.
Desolate, she sat in the darkened living room and waited. She hadn’t eaten, couldn’t sleep. Leaving the house was impossible, looking and feeling the way she did. Her only companion was constant anxiety and doubt. There wasn’t anything she could do until Glenn was ready to talk.
When he reappeared, Maggie slowly came to her feet. Her throat felt thick and uncooperative. Her hands were clenched so tightly together that the blood flow to her fingers was restricted. “Would you like some dinner?” The question was inane when she wanted to tell him they were both being silly. Arguing over Denny was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I’m not hungry,” he answered starkly, without looking at her. His features tightened.
Undaunted, Maggie asked: “Can we at least talk about this? I don’t want to fight.”
He ignored her and turned toward the hallway. “You said everything I needed to hear last night.”
“Come on, Glenn, be reasonable,” she shouted after him. “What do you want from me? Are you so insensitive that you can’t see what an intolerable situation you placed me in?”
“I asked you to trust me with Denny.”
“You were stripping him of his pride.”
“I was trying to give it back to him,” he flared back. “And speaking of intolerable positions, do you realize that’s exactly what you’ve done to me?”
“You … How?”
“You’ve asked me to sit by and turn a blind eye while your brother bleeds you half to death. I’m your husband. It’s my duty to protect you, but I can’t do that when you won’t let me, when you resent, contradict, and question my intention.”
“Glenn, please,” she pleaded softly. “I love you. I don’t want to fight. Not over Denny—not over anything. It’s
Christmas, a time of peace and goodwill. Can’t we please put this behind us?”
Glenn looked as weary as she felt. “It’s a matter of trust, too, Maggie.”
“I trust you completely.”
“You don’t,” Glenn announced, and turned away from her, which only served to fuel Maggie’s anger.
Maggie slept in the guest bedroom that night, praying Glenn would insist she share his bed. She didn’t know what she had thought sleeping apart would accomplish. It took everything within Maggie not to swallow her considerable pride and return to the master bedroom. A part of her was dying a slow and painful death.
Maggie couldn’t understand why Glenn was behaving like he was. Only once had he even raised his voice to her in all the weeks they’d been married. But now the tension stretched between the two bedrooms was so thick Maggie could have sliced it with a dull knife. Glenn was so disillusioned with her that even talking to her was more than he could tolerate. He wasn’t punishing her with the silent treatment, Maggie realized. He was protecting her. If he spoke, it would be to vent his frustration and say things he’d later regret.
Instead of dwelling on the negative, Maggie recalled the wonderful love-filled nights when they had lain side by side and been unable to stay out of each other’s arms. The instant the light was out, Glenn would reach for her with the urgency of a condemned man offered a last chance at life. And when he’d kissed her and loved her, Maggie felt as though she was the most precious being in the world. Glenn’s world. He was a magnificent lover. She closed her eyes to the compelling images that crowded her mind, feeling sick at heart and thoroughly miserable.
In the other room, Glenn lay on his back staring at the ceiling. The dark void of night surrounded him. The sharp edges of his anger had dulled, but the bitterness that had consumed him earlier had yet to fade. In all his life he had never been more disappointed and more hurt—yes, hurt—that his wife couldn’t trust him to handle a delicate situation and protect her. He wasn’t out to get Denny; he sincerely wanted to help the man.