She reached for Lexie's hand. "Like I said, you're in this together. Men have certain needs, women have different needs; that's the way it was hundreds of years ago, and that's the way it's going to be hundreds of years from now. If you both realize that, and you both work on meeting each other's needs, you'll have a good marriage. And part of that, for both of you, is trust. In the end, it's that simple."
"I don't know why you're telling me this."
Doris gave a knowing smile. "Yes, you do. But my hope is that you remember this when you're married. If you think it's tough now, wait until then. Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it will. But as long as you remember that he loves you and you love him--and both of you remember to act that way--you'll be just fine."
Lexie mulled over Doris's words. "I suppose this is the premarriage talk, huh? The one you've been saving up for all these years?"
Doris let go of Lexie's hand. "Oh, I don't know. I suppose it might have come out eventually, but I didn't plan on saying all this beforehand. It just came up."
Lexie was silent as she considered it. "So, you're sure he's going to come back?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I've seen the way he looks at you and I know what it means. Believe it or not, I've been around the block more than once."
"What if you're wrong?"
"I'm not. Don't you remember? I'm psychic."
"You're a diviner, you're not psychic."
Doris shrugged. "Sometimes the feeling comes across exactly the same way."
Lexie stopped outside of Herbs, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight. Searching for her keys, she found herself contemplating the wisdom of Doris's words. It hadn't been easy hearing her grandmother's assessment of her situation, but was it ever easy hearing that you might be wrong? Since Jeremy had left her standing on the porch, she'd fumed with self-justification, as if anger might keep her worries in check, but now she couldn't escape how petty the memory made her feel. She didn't want to fight with Jeremy; she was as tired of the arguments as he was. This was no way to start their marriage, and she decided it would end here and now. Unlocking her car and sliding behind the wheel, she nodded with determination. She would change if she had to--and also because it was the right thing to do.
Pulling out of the parking lot, she wasn't sure where to go. Drawn by instinct, however, she soon found herself at the cemetery, standing before the headstones of her parents. Seeing their names carved in granite, she thought of the couple she didn't remember and tried to imagine what they had been like. Did her mother laugh a lot, or was she quiet? Was her father a fan of football or baseball? Pointless thoughts, but she nonetheless found herself wondering how much like Doris her mother had been, and whether her mother would have given her the same lecture Doris had. More than likely, she guessed. They were mother and daughter, after all. For a reason she couldn't explain, the thought made her smile. She would call Jeremy as soon as she got home, she decided. She'd tell him again that she was sorry and that she missed him.
And, as if her mother were listening, a light breeze stirred the air, making the leaves of the magnolia sway, almost in hushed agreement.
Lexie spent nearly an hour in the cemetery, conjuring up images of Jeremy and what he might be doing. She pictured him sitting in the worn easy chair in his parents' living room, talking to his father, and it seemed as if she were in the adjoining room, listening in. She caught herself remembering how she felt when she first entered his childhood home, surrounded by those who knew him far longer than she had. She recalled the flirtatious way he'd watched her that evening and the tender way he'd traced her belly with his finger later that night at the Plaza.
Sighing as she glanced at her watch, she realized that there was a lot she should be doing: grocery shopping, paperwork at the library, gift buying for some employees' upcoming birthdays... But as she jingled her keys, she suddenly felt an undeniable urge to go home, one so powerful that she felt little choice in the matter. She turned from her parents' headstones and walked back to her car, puzzled by the urgency.
She drove slowly, careful to avoid the rabbits and raccoons that typically scampered across this stretch of road, but as she drew nearer to her home, an inexplicable sense of anticipation made her press down more firmly on the accelerator. She turned onto the road that fronted her property, blinking in confusion at the sight of Doris's car parked along the street--until she caught sight of the figure perched on her front steps, elbows on his knees.
Fighting the urge to jump from the car, she stepped out slowly and began to walk up the driveway as if nothing about the scene struck her as unusual.
Jeremy had risen even before she'd slung her purse over her shoulder. "Hi," he said.
She forced herself to steady her voice and smile as she approached. "Down here, people say, 'hey,' not 'hi.' "
Jeremy studied his feet, seemingly oblivious to the playfulness in her tone.
"I'm glad to see you, stranger," she added, her voice gentle. "It's not often that I come home to see such a handsome man waiting on my porch."
When Jeremy looked up, she could see the exhaustion in his face.
"I was just beginning to wonder where you were."
She stood before him, recalling her earlier memory of his touch against her skin. For an instant, she thought about throwing herself into his arms, but there was something so fragile and tentative about his demeanor that she held back.
"I'm glad to see you," she said again.
Jeremy responded with the ghost of a smile but said nothing.
"Are you still mad at me?" she asked.
Instead of answering, he simply stared at her. When she realized he was debating how to answer, weighing what he wanted to say against what he thought she wanted to hear, she reached for his arm. "Because if you are, you have every right to be." She spoke in a breathless rush, anxious not to leave out anything she needed to say. "You were right. I should have told you about everything, and I won't keep things like that from you again. I'm sorry."
He seemed amused. "Just like that?"
"I've had some time to think about it."
"I'm sorry, too," he conceded. "I shouldn't have overreacted the way I did."
In the silence that followed, Lexie took in the fatigue and sorrow that seemed to hang from his figure. Instinctively, she moved toward him. He hesitated only briefly before opening his arms. She moved into them, kissed him gently on the lips, and then put her head on his chest. With his arms wrapped around her, they held each other for a long time, but she was conscious of the lack of passion in his embrace.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
"No, not really," he answered.
She took his hand and led him inside, pausing in the living room, unsure whether to sit beside him on the couch or in the chair beside it. Jeremy moved around her and collapsed onto the couch. Then, leaning forward, he ran a hand through his hair.
"Sit by me," he said. "I have something to tell you."
At his words, her heart skipped a beat. She moved next to him, feeling the warmth of his leg against her own. When he exhaled sharply, she felt herself stiffen.
"Is it about us?" she asked.
He stared in the direction of the kitchen, his eyes unfocused. "You could say that."
"And the wedding?"
When he nodded, Lexie steeled herself for the worst. "Are you moving back to New York?" she whispered.
It took a moment for him to grasp what she was asking, but when he faced her, she saw his confusion.
"Why would you think something like that? Do you want me to move back?"
"Of course not. But the way you're acting, I don't know what to think."
Jeremy shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so evasive. I guess I'm still trying to make sense of everything myself. But I'm not mad at you or thinking of calling off the wedding. I probably should have explained that right away."
She felt herself relax. "What's
going on? Did something happen at the bachelor party?"
"Yeah," Jeremy said. "But there's more to it than just that."
He started at the beginning, finally telling her about the depths of his struggles with writing, his worries about the cost of the house, the sense of frustration he sometimes felt in the limited confines of Boone Creek. She'd heard bits and pieces of it all before, though she admitted to herself that she hadn't sensed how difficult it had really been for him. He spoke in a voice that omitted blame, as if talking to himself as much as to her.
She wasn't sure where he was going but knew enough to stay silent until he'd finished. He sat straighter.
"And then," he added, "I saw you and Rodney holding hands. Even when I saw it, I knew it shouldn't bother me. I told myself that over and over, but I guess that the other stresses I was under made me think it was something more. I knew how ridiculous the belief was, but I guess I was looking for a reason to take it out on you." He gave a halfhearted smile. "Which was exactly what you told me the other day. Then you went over to Rodney's again, and I just snapped. But there was something else I haven't told you. Something that happened after each of those events."
She reached for his hand, feeling relief when he accepted it.
He told her about the e-mails he'd received, describing the anger and anxiety they'd caused. At first, she had trouble understanding what had happened, and she tried to keep her voice steady in an attempt to stifle her growing sense of shock.
"That's how you knew what was in the journal?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I don't know whether I would have noticed it otherwise."
"But... who would have done something like that?"
Jeremy sighed as he answered. "Alvin."
"Alvin? Alvin sent them? But... that doesn't make sense. There was no way he could know--"
"Rachel told him," he said. "When she left? She went to see Alvin in New York."
Lexie shook her head. "No. I've known her forever. She wouldn't do that."
He told her the rest of the story as best he could piece it together. "And after I stormed out of the bar, I didn't know what to do. I just walked for a while until I heard people running up behind me. My brothers..." He shrugged. "They could see how angry I was, and that got them going. Put a couple of drinks in them, and they're more than happy to start a brawl. They kept asking what Alvin did and whether they should have a 'talk' with him. I told them to let it go."
In a role reversal, Jeremy seemed to find it easy to keep talking; Lexie was still trying to digest what he'd told her.
"They ended up bringing me back to my parents, but I couldn't sleep. I couldn't talk to anyone up there about everything that had gone on, so I changed my flight to the first one out this morning."
When he finished, Lexie felt as if she couldn't breathe.
"I thought he was your friend."
"So did I."
"Why would he do something like that?"
"I don't know," Jeremy said.
"Because of me? What did I ever do to him? He doesn't even know me. He doesn't know us. This was..."
"Evil," Jeremy said, finishing for her. "I know it was."
"But..." She dabbed at an unexpected tear. "He... I just don't..."
"I don't know what to say, either," Jeremy said. "I've been trying to make sense of it since it happened, but the only thing I've figured out is that in his own twisted way, he thought he was helping me avoid a potential disaster. It's sick, I know. In any case, I'm through with him."
She met his gaze with sudden fierceness. "Why didn't you tell me about the e-mails earlier?"
"Like I said, I wouldn't have known what to say. I didn't know who sent them, I didn't know why. And then, with everything else..."
"Does your family know?"
"About the e-mails? No, I didn't say anything--"
"No," Lexie interrupted, trembling. "That you were worried about whether it was your baby."
"I know it's my baby."
"It is your baby," she said. "I've never slept with Rodney. You're the only one I've slept with in years."
"I know...."
"But I want you to hear me say it. It's our baby, yours and mine. I swear."
"I know."
"But you wondered, didn't you." Her voice was beginning to crack. "Even if it was only for an instant, you wondered about it. First you find me over at Rodney's, and then you discover that I hadn't told you about being pregnant before, and with all your other stress..."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. You should have told me. If I'd known any of this... we could have gone through all this together." She struggled for self-control.
"It's over, okay? There's nothing we can do about it, and we'll get through this and move on."
"You must have hated me."
"I never hated you," he said, pulling her close. "I love you. We're getting married next week, remember?"
She turned her face into his chest, finding comfort in the circle of his arms. In time, she sighed. "I don't want to see Alvin at the wedding."
"I don't, either. But there's something else I have to tell you."
"No, I don't want to hear it. Not just yet. I've had enough shock for one day."
"This is good," he promised. "You'll want to hear this."
She looked up at him, as if hoping he wasn't lying.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what?"
With a gentle smile, he kissed her on the lips. "For the letters you sent to my family. Especially my mother. It's those things that remind me that marrying you is the best thing I'll ever do."
Thirteen
A cold, slashing rain, unseasonable in its fury, crashed water against the windows in waves. The gray clouds, which had drifted in uneventfully the night before, brought with them morning mist and a wind that shook the last of the blossoms from the dogwood trees. It was early May, and there were only three days until the wedding. Jeremy had made arrangements to meet his parents at the Norfolk airport, where they'd follow him in a rented car to Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in Buxton. Until they arrived, he busied himself with helping Lexie make final calls to verify that everything was ready.
The gloomy weather did nothing to dampen the renewed passion Lexie and Jeremy felt for each other. On the night he'd returned, they made love with an intensity that surprised them both, and he could vividly recall the electric feel of her skin against his own. It was as if, in their lovemaking, they were trying to erase all of the pain and betrayals, the secrets and anger, of the past few months.
Once the burden of their respective secrets had been removed, Jeremy felt lighter than he had in months. With his impending marriage, he had a valid excuse to avoid thinking about work and had little trouble doing so. He went jogging twice and made the decision to take it up regularly again as soon as the wedding was behind him. Although the renovations on the house weren't complete, the contractor promised that they would be able to move in well before the baby was born. It would probably be the end of August, but Lexie felt confident enough to go ahead and put her bungalow up for sale, promising to bank the entire proceeds to shore up their dwindling savings.
The one place they didn't go was Herbs. After learning what Rachel had told Alvin, Lexie couldn't fathom the idea of seeing her--not yet, anyway. The night before, Doris had called, asking why neither Jeremy nor Lexie had even dropped in to say hello. On the phone, Lexie assured Doris that she wasn't angry with her and admitted that Doris had been right to take her to task when they last spoke. When Lexie didn't follow up with a visit, Doris called again.
"I'm beginning to think there's something that you're not telling me," Doris said, "and if you don't tell me what's going on, I'm going to march over to your house and perch myself on your porch until you fill me in."
"We're just busy and making sure everything is ready for the weekend," Lexie said, trying to appease her.
"I didn't just fall off the turnip truck," Doris said, "and I know av
oidance when I see it, and the fact is, you're avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you."
"Then why not swing by the restaurant a little later?" When Lexie hesitated, Doris made an intuitive leap. "Does this have something to do with Rachel, by any chance?"
When Lexie didn't answer, Doris sighed. "That's it, isn't it. I should have known. On Monday, she seemed to be avoiding me, too. Same thing today. What did she do now?"
Lexie was wondering how much to say when she heard Jeremy enter the kitchen behind her. Thinking he was coming in for a glass of water or a snack, she gave him a distracted smile before she noticed his expression.
"Rachel's here," Jeremy said. "She wants to talk to you."
Rachel flashed a nervous smile when Lexie entered the living room, then quickly looked away. Lexie stared at her without speaking. In the doorway, Jeremy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then decided to slip out the back door so the two could be alone.
Lexie heard the back door close before she took a seat across from Rachel. Devoid of makeup, Rachel looked anxious and exhausted. In her hands, she twisted a tissue compulsively.
"I'm sorry," she said without preamble. "I never meant for any of this to happen, and I can only guess how angry you are. I just want you to know I didn't want to hurt you. I had no idea that Alvin had done what he did."
When Lexie didn't respond, Rachel brought her hands to her head, massaging her temples. "He called me at home this past weekend and tried to explain, but I was just so horrified. If I'd known, if I'd even had an inkling of what he was doing, I would never have talked to him. But he fooled me...."
She trailed off, still unable to meet Lexie's eyes.
"You're not the only one. He fooled Jeremy, too," Lexie said.
"But it was still my fault."
"Yeah," Lexie agreed, "it was."
Lexie's comment seemed to stop Rachel's train of thought. In the silence that followed, Lexie watched her, trying to assess whether she was feeling contrite because of what she'd done or because she'd been caught. She was a friend, someone Lexie had trusted, but then again, Jeremy would have said the same thing about Alvin.