That hadn’t been hard to guess, but he was surprised she could admit it. He saw hope in her confession, and a small opportunity. “We like the illusion of having control of our lives, that the sins we commit have nothing to do with anyone else. We close our eyes to the consequences and point our finger at someone else. Don’t feel alone, Kat. I did more than my share of blaming.”
He remembered telling Kathryn she was the reason he drank, that a man had to stay drunk to stand living in the same house with her. He’d rationalized and justified his lousy behavior. Was it any wonder she fought back? What did it matter how the war started or who was ahead? He wanted peace between them. For Brittany’s sake as much as their own. The only thing that stood in the way was pride.
“It’s not your fault I’man alcoholic, Kat. It never was.” He rose and went to her, standing behind her. “I’m sorry.” When he put his hand on her shoulder, he felt her stiffen. He let his hand fall to his side.
They stood silent, staring out at the street.
“So am I.” She gave him a wry look. “Especially now that you’ve turned into a decent human being again.”
He’d once found her acerbic wit appealing. “Your mascara is running.” He took his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “Don’t worry. It’s clean.”
They sat at the table again. Kathryn took a compact from her purse, opened it, looked at her face as she dabbed briefly. With a heavy sigh, she snapped the compact shut and dropped it back into her purse. “I’m sick of keeping up appearances and trying to live up to others’ expectations. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I just know I don’t want to go on like this.” Her mascara was running again.
She turned her coffee cup around in the saucer. “Brittany didn’t like Jeff from the beginning. I thought she would warm up to him, but she didn’t. So I kept her out of the way with ballet lessons and piano lessons, soccer and summer camp. I told her I was doing it for her own good, but she knew why I was doing it. She wanted to live with you. Did she tell you that?”
“Yeah.” He could guess the rest. The thought that Brittany would choose her alcoholic father over her mother must have eaten at Kathryn’s self-confidence and roused her jealous anger.
She closed her eyes. “When did she tell you?”
“When she first came here. You told her I didn’t want her.”
She raised her head. “Maybe it wasn’t right.”
“Maybe?”
“Okay.” She looked away. “The more you wanted her, the less inclined I was to give her to you. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.”
“You did.”
“I thought I’d be happy about it.”
He studied her. “It’s to your credit that you aren’t.”
Her shoulders loosened. “I never thought I could talk to you about all this, Stephen. Not in a million years.”
He’d never tried to make it easy for her to talk about anything. He’d been like a football player sitting on the bench, watching the opposing team and waiting for his chance to control the ball.
Poor Brittany. No wonder their daughter was such a mess.
She sipped her coffee. “I know why she ran away, Stephen. Brittany and I had a terrible fight. She told me she saw Jeff with another woman. I slapped her face and told her she was just trying to ruin my marriage. She said it wasn’t the first time she’d seen them together. She said he was a jerk and I was a fool to listen to his lame excuses about why he was late all the time and why he had to go away so often on business trips.” Her mouth jerked. “I slapped her again and said she was a drunk, just—”
“Just like her father?”
Kathryn looked sick. “And I said more, a lot more. Cruel things I can’t even remember now, but I know she’ll never forget.” Her hand shook as she wiped tears from her cheek. “I was so angry. I told her I was sick to death of her and wished she’d grow up and leave. And she just stood there, taking it and looking at me as though she hated me. I said I was sick of the sight of her with her blue hair and her nose ring. I said . . . I don’t even remember what all I said. And she just turned her back on me and walked down the hall to her room. She slammed the door and locked it. The next morning, she was gone. I thought she’d just gone out as usual. She was always going out. Sometimes she’d stay away for a day or two, but she always came back. After three days and nights, I knew she was really gone. And I was glad. For a week, I was glad.”
She buried her face in the handkerchief and sobbed. “That’s what a great mother I’ve been. Then after two weeks, I was so scared. I was afraid to call you. I didn’t know what to do. And then, a few weeks later, I found out for myself that everything she said about Jeff was true.”
“That’s when you called and wanted me to tell her you were divorcing Jeff.”
She blew her nose and said a watery yes.
He prayed his confession wouldn’t bring an end to this conversation. “I didn’t tell her, Kathryn. I’m sorry. I wish I had now. But I was afraid you might be blaming her for the breakup of your marriage.”
At least she wasn’t screaming at him. At least she was still sitting in her chair and not flying at his throat.
She released her breath slowly. Closing her eyes, she blew her nose again, then crumpled his handkerchief in her hand. “I’m glad you didn’t. I want to be the one to tell her she was right.” Her mouth jerked. “Maybe then she’ll be able to forgive me.”
Given time, maybe Brittany would be able to forgive both of them for their faults as people and failures as parents.
“Thanks.” Kathryn barely whispered it.
“For what?”
“For listening.”
He should’ve started the practice a long time ago. “Anytime.” It was a habit worth cultivating.
“Well, well, this is something new.” Brittany stood at the top of the stair-well, watching them. She hooked her thumbs under the straps of her back-pack and looked from him to her mother. “I’ve never known the two of you to be in the same room longer than five seconds without having a fight.”
Stephen leaned back in his chair and smiled at his daughter. “Your mother and I had breakfast together.”
“You don’t say.”
“Your father cooked.”
“Was it up to your standards, Mother?”
When Kathryn didn’t answer, Brittany looked at him. “She complains about everything. Don’t let her get to you, Dad.”
“She said it was good.”
“Miracle of miracles. Another first.” Brittany stared hard at her mother. Stephen had the feeling that one wrong word would send her back down those stairs and out of their lives.
Kathryn broke the silence. “You were right about Jeff, Brittany.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“I divorced him.”
“Do you think I care?” Brittany tilted her head in the same manner Kathryn often did. “I’ve learned a few things since coming here. Dad did want me. You told me he didn’t.”
“I lied.”
Brittany looked momentarily surprised by Kathryn’s confession before her young face hardened. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t hate you for the rest of my life?”
“No. But I hope you won’t.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
Stephen pitied Kathryn. He knew how hard it was to confess.
Kathryn took the strap of her purse and looped it over her shoulder. “I’d better go.”
Stephen stood. “I’ll walk you down.”
Brittany shrugged off her backpack and held it tightly in one hand. Stephen had the feeling she’d use it as a weapon if Kathryn tried to get too close. Kathryn didn’t. Mother and daughter looked at one another. Brittany turned her back before Kathryn could say anything.
Stephen walked down the stairs behind Kathryn. He opened the front door for her. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I guess I’ll have to be.”
“I want to k
now for sure.”
She looked up at him, pale and sad. “You have changed.” Her lips curved sardonically. “Relax, Stephen. We all know I’m too selfish to do anything to hurt myself.” The smile died. She put her sunglasses back on and gave a flippant wave. “At least I know Brittany is safe and doing well. That’s enough to keep me going right now.”
Stephen watched Kathryn walk out to her car, open the door, and slide in. She started the engine, sat for a moment, head down, and then pulled away from the curb.
Eunice was buying a box of pills reputed to ease migraine headaches when she saw Rob Atherton talking with the pharmacist.
“I know, I know.” Rob’s impatience came through clearly. “I have an appointment in two weeks.” Again the pharmacist talked low, his expression grim. Eunice stood back, not wanting to eavesdrop. “How long a wait are you talking about?” The pharmacist said he would call Rob’s doctor, confirm that a refill was in order, and have the prescription ready in a few minutes. “Fine. Go ahead.”
Rob turned and spotted her. Why would he give her such a pained look?
The clerk called her attention, asking if she needed help. Eunice handed over the box of pills. The lady chattered pleasantly as she rang it into the register, took Eunice’s money, made change, tucked the small box into a white bag, and stapled the receipt to it. She handed Eunice’s purchase back. “Have a nice day, Mrs. Hudson.”
She noticed Rob loitering in one of the aisles. “Is everything all right, Rob?”
He glanced up. “Not really. I need a refill on my nitroglycerin tablets, and he’s insisting I should’ve had a checkup with my doctor. He’s right, of course, but my schedule hasn’t allowed for it.”
“Isn’t nitroglycerin for a heart condition?”
“Angina.”
“I didn’t know—”
“No reason you should, unless Sheila mentioned it to your husband during one of their . . . counseling appointments.”
He said it in such an odd way, she was left wondering what he meant. Was he concerned that Paul was talking about things he shouldn’t? “I can assure you,” she said gently, “Paul never tells me anything that’s said during any of his counseling sessions.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Again, the undercurrent of something unpleasant. What was wrong here? Paul would never break a confidence. It was a matter of ethics. She wasn’t sure what to say other than what she’d already said. “I feel remiss for not knowing you’ve been having health issues, Rob. I’m sorry.”
“Well, to be frank, I could use a little sisterly advice.” The pharmacist called his attention. “Would you mind giving me a few minutes, Eunice? I’d like to ask your opinion about something.”
She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, but agreed to wait. He paid for his prescription, and listened to the pharmacist caution him on the side effects of the medication and explain proper usage. Rob joined her again in the aisle lined with headache and stomachache medications. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
She suggested the coffee shop at the end of the block. “They put tables out on the sidewalk a few days ago. It’s nice and sunny, and there shouldn’t be many customers this time of the morning.”
Rob picked a table farthest from the front door. The umbrella hadn’t been put up yet. “I’m not sure how to begin. I don’t know how much you know.”
“Know about what?”
“Sheila’s counseling.”
“Well, nothing, of course. Paul never talks about his counseling appointments to anyone.”
His mouth turned down slightly as he studied her. He opened his mouth to say something, and closed it when he saw the waitress approaching. He asked Eunice what she wanted. “A latte, please.” He ordered a decaf coffee for himself.
He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “How much do you know about me and Sheila?”
“I know you’ve both been very generous to the church.” She wasn’t certain how much to say or how to say it. “Sheila seems to be far more interested in being involved in the church than you are.”
He gave a short laugh. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
“I’ve heard you travel a great deal.”
“As often as possible.”
His dry tone disturbed her. “On business, as I understand it.”
He nodded. “On business. And sometimes, personal.” He put his hands on the table and tapped his fingertips together. “I go to Florida every other month. My ex-wife lives there. It’s all pretty messy, Eunice. I’m just going to lay it all out for you and then ask your advice. Is that all right?” He leaned back again as the waitress delivered their order.
Eunice thanked him for the latte before taking a sip. She almost hoped he would resist the impulse to tell her any more about his private life, but he moved his chair closer to the table, apparently intent on doing so.
“Molly, my first wife, put me through college. She helped me get started in business. She’s the mother of my two children. About the time they were entering high school and giving us some problems, I hired a new secretary. Smart, young, beautiful. As you can guess, it was Sheila, and it wasn’t very long before I was having an affair with her. My wife seemed boring compared to her. Molly never went to college. She never had the opportunity.” He leaned back again, his eyes distant.
“I guess, in some ways, Molly embarrassed me. Here I was with a master’s degree, making more money than I ever dreamed I’d make, and involved in a lot of social functions, and Molly didn’t seem to fit in. Worse, she didn’t seem to want to fit in. I started taking Sheila to business dinners, and it went from there. I asked Molly for a divorce. Of course, it devastated her and the kids, but by that time, I was so besotted by Sheila, I didn’t care what I did to my family. I had friends who’d gone through similar things and gave me advice. Bad advice. They told me to get as much money out of the joint accounts as I could and put it all in my name. So I did. I justified it to myself that I’d been the one making the money all through the marriage, except for the first four years when Molly was working and putting me through school.”
He shook his head and looked away. “I got a high-powered attorney to make sure I retained most of the assets. Molly didn’t fight me. She said she hoped I’d come to my senses and come home. So it was easy to take advantage of her. She agreed to everything my attorney proposed. Child support. Alimony for ten years. Half the house. She never stopped to think how she’d pay me for my half on what little I was going to give her.”
Leaning forward, he held the tall cup for a moment. He sipped, winced, and started again. “Molly didn’t put the house on the market until the week after I married Sheila. It was in an exclusive neighborhood and sold the first week. She didn’t have the money to buy another house like it. So she rented a cheaper house in the same school district. She wanted to make sure the kids could finish school with their friends. Which they did. I saw Molly a couple of times. She lost a lot of weight. She was taking computer classes at the local junior college so that she could find a job. The alimony wasn’t enough, you see. Not that she ever asked me for more. My son told me, the last time he spoke to me.”
Eunice could see his pain. When he studied her, she had the feeling he was checking to see if she was judging him harshly. She was trying hard not to judge him at all.
His shoulders relaxed. “The thing is, I still love Molly. I still love my children.” He gave a bleak laugh. “Neither one of them will have much to do with me. Not that Molly ever poisoned them against me. They saw right through everything. I got myself a trophy wife. Someone younger and prettier than their mother who didn’t care what methods she used to get herself a rich husband. Sheila still sneers about Molly, and still resents every dime I send to my children. The truth is, Sheila doesn’t even care about me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Rob.”
He looked at her with a strange mingling of pity and i
mpatience. “You haven’t got a mean bone in your body, have you? You haven’t got a clue how a woman like Sheila works. How devious and deceptive she can be. How ambitious. She’s probably—” He stopped. Pressing his lips together, he shook his head again. He took another sip of coffee. “Just take it from someone who knows her. Sheila bores easily, and she was bored with me after the first few years. It bothered me in the beginning, and I did everything I could to hold her interest. After a while, I looked the other way and immersed myself in business.”
“Sheila’s still with you, Rob. Surely that says something.”
“Yes. I believe it says something.” What he thought it meant clearly gave him no comfort.
Eunice felt out of her depth. “Maybe you should talk to Paul . . . ”
He gave her a droll look. “I don’t think I’d get a fair hearing.”
“Paul has counseled couples before. He—”
“It’s too late, Eunice.”
“It’s never too late.”
He shook his head. “Sheila isn’t my problem. My feelings for Molly are. I used to be eaten up by guilt. Now I realize it’s more than that. I still love her. I’ve made a point of going back to Florida every other month. To see my children. That’s what I tell Sheila, anyway. But the truth is, I go back there to see Molly.”
His smile was pained. “She’s really something. It took her ten years, but she put herself through college. She turned fifty-six last month and she looks better than ever. She’s done things I never even knew she wanted to do. She took up hiking a few years ago. My daughter told me Molly trained with weights and packs for months because she wanted to come to California and climb Mount Whitney. I thought she was nuts and she’d give up the idea. But she did it last year. I couldn’t believe it. Now she’s planning to go to Europe with some friends and walk through Spain. She’s even been taking Spanish lessons.” He shook his head. “And I thought she was boring.”