A Promise to Remember (26 page)

"If you're certain that's what you want, dear. You always look
fabulous. I only wanted to give you a little lift."

"And I do appreciate the thought. More than you will ever
know. I suppose I'm just seeking familiar things right now. I've
lost Chad; I can't lose myself, too."

Mattie's eyes looked moist, but the high arch of her newly
lifted eyebrows made it impossible to know if she was hurt or
simply suffering hay fever. She strummed her red nails across
the white lacquer of her desk. "I'm glad you told me, dear."

"I brought my charge card. I want to pay for the three dresses
I've already worn."

"Nonsense. I've written off the cost as advertising." She
smiled; this time it seemed genuine. "And it was money well
spent, too." She stood and gestured toward the door. "Thank you
for letting an old woman indulge her fantasy for a while."

Andie walked out of the shop, the tingle of guilt still biting
against her skin, but the thrill of having spoken her mind surpassed the discomfort. For the first time in a long time, she'd
told someone no, stood her ground, and refused to go along
with whatever. It felt good. Next on her list for this newfound
strength was Christi. Then Blair.

Melanie looked at the sticky mess spilled on the floor all around
her desk. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and
stretched her neck. Slowly, she exhaled in a long puff, hoping
it would take some tension with it. No such luck.

This week had been full of little "accidents" all around her.
Missing paperwork, pricing signs incorrect or missing, "accidents" that only seemed to happen around her workspace. Only
her personal items had been left untouched, and that was most
likely because she was sharing Candace's locker.

She found herself constantly looking around, wondering
where the next attack would come from and who would carry
it out. On the surface, everyone seemed friendly enough. But she had seen several employees, when caught off guard, exchanging
knowing glances. Candace was never among them.

What motivated her? She, of all people, had the most to gain
if Melanie left, yet she continued to show support. Outwardly,
anyway. Maybe that was all part of the plan-keeping her above
reproach while the rest of them did her dirty work for her. Melanie didn't want to believe that, but life had shown her early on that
people were not always what they appeared on the surface.

She grabbed a mop, scrubbed up the mess, and sat at her
desk to complete her paperwork for the day. Surely things would
calm down soon. How many more miserable days could they
inflict on her before they grew tired of the effort, or at least
felt she'd paid her dues? It had been more than two weeks.
Enough, already.

She looked over the stack of signs for the next day's price
changes. Another big day loomed ahead.

Forty minutes of hard work later, she completed the last of
the day's tasks. She schlepped from her desk to the locker room
and retrieved her things-thankfully still intact.

The crisp air energized her as she walked through the parking lot. Her little car sat in the corner, waiting to take her away.
She smiled at the little heap of metal, then stopped. Something
looked wrong. Her car seemed shorter than normal. She hurried
forward until she drew close enough to see the problem. Then
she stopped moving. All four tires had been slashed.

Andie paced the entryway and looked at her watch once again.
Only five minutes had passed. Six-thirty. March 22.

Where was Blair?

He couldn't lay aside his long hours, his lingering anger,
his-whatever it was he'd been spending so much time doing. The thought chilled her. Their lives had grown so far apart since
their wedding-eighteen years ago today.

Over the course of the last few days the tension had lessened
more or less to the levels before the last fight. Andie had assumed
they would at least keep up the pretense and have their annual
anniversary lobster feast. By now the spiny creatures had surely
died in their boxes.

In the early years of their marriage, Blair would take the day
off, and they would drive to the marina together to pick out
fresh lobster from the fishing boats. This was a twice-a-year
event for them-their anniversary and Christmas Eve. After
Chad was born, they brought him along.

She could still see his face, framed by short blond hair, peering into the portable tanks. "That's the one, right there. He's
just my size."

The fisherman had lifted the lobster. "This one right here?"

"Yeah." Chad's voice sounded unsure. He looked towardAndie
and blinked.

The fisherman squatted so that he was nose to nose with
Chad. "You've got a good eye, little man. That's the one I was
thinking of taking home myself. It's the best of the whole
bunch."

Chad beamed. "Hear that, Mom and Dad% He said I got a
good eve!"

This year, Andie had bought the lobster alone. Still, she had
expected Blair to show up and help cook them. They always
did it as a team. She sank into a chair.

Another glance out the window revealed nothing. She decided
to swallow her pride and call his office. She didn't want to beg
him to come home, but maybe their anniversary, of all nights,
was the time to try a little harder.

Neil Parker answered on the second ring. "No, Mrs. Phelps,
he's not here."

"Are you sure he's not in his office?"

"I saw him leave about two o'clock. I'm the last one in the
building and am just about to lock up now."

"Oh, well, uh ... thank you, Neil."

Andie hung up the phone and walked straight to her car. She
needed to get out of the house for a while.

She drove along the coast, barely seeing the world around her.
She looked onto the ocean at the lights twinkling from the offshore
oil platforms. From her vantage point, they looked like glittering
towers instead of the reality of steel and grease and rust. Just like
her marriage. Blair had all but left her after Chad's death. Since
the discovery of that envelope at Lake Cachuma, their relationship had become a sad husk of a thing, empty and dry.

She finally forced herself to drive back to her empty home.
Maybe she'd pull out a DVD and spend the evening on the
couch.

When the garage door opened, Blair's car sat parked in its
spot. What excuse would he have this time? She steeled herself,
prepared to let him know she knew the truth. No story about
research was going to get him off the hook this time.

The sound of running water came from upstairs. He was
probably in the shower. Another bad sign. What did he feel he
needed to be cleansed of? The images the question painted across
her mind left her nauseated. Time to confront this head on. But
how? Maybe she'd start by playing dumb and go from there.

She walked up the stairs, sat on the chair beside the bed,
and waited. She heard the shower turn off, then water running
in the sink. Shaving? Brushing his teeth?

The door slid open and Blair walked through, wrapped in a
towel. He stopped when he saw her. "There you are. Where
have you been?"

Driving around wondering where you were, but that little admission won't get its to the truth, will it? "Doing a little shopping.
How about you?"

He sauntered into his walk-in closet. "Doing a little working."
His attempt at humor twisted in Andie's stomach.

"Just now getting off?"

Blair emerged from the closet, stuffing his leg into a pair of
tan pants. When he looked toward her, Andie saw the alarm
flick through his eyes. The question had been enough to put
him on alert. "I had a lot to do." He continued to watch her
evenly, obviously waiting to see if he got a reaction.

"That's what Neil said."

That got him.

His lower right jaw began to twitch, a sure sign he was under
pressure. He stared at her for another moment, then walked
back into his closet. "When did you talk to Neil?"

His tone was conversational-a little too much so. He knew
he'd been caught.

"I called the office. He told me he was the only one there and
about to lock up. Said you'd been gone for several hours."

Blair returned to his closet and came out pulling a sweater
over his damp hair. "I'm going to have to talk to Neil. It's getting
more and more difficult to surprise my wife these days."

Or lie to her? "I'm sure it is."

He walked out of the room. The sound of his footsteps faded
down the stairs, then the door to the garage squeaked open.

Just like that. He had walked out.

Andie was too numb to feel anymore. She simply stared at
the wall, the realization of what had just happened floating
somewhere outside her immediate consciousness.

Then the door squeaked again and the footsteps retraced their
path. Blair walked into the room and stood before her, hands behind his back. "I was planning to give you this later, but since
you've caught me red-handed, perhaps now is a better time."

He pulled a small rectangular box from behind his back,
wrapped in the Tiffany's signature light blue. "I left early and
did a little shopping of my own. Here, this is for you."

Andie took it in her hands but did not open it. The white
bow blurred into a blob through the tears that doused her eyes.
"You didn't have to do that."

He came to sit beside her on the bed. "Yes. I did. I know I've
been hard to live with for the last few months. I've lost Chad;
I don't want to lose you, too."

Andie threw herself against his chest. How she had longed for
some words of comfort-of love-from him. This moment was
so sweet, she didn't want to disrupt it by opening the present.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the top
of the head. "Open it up. When you go to your next charity
meeting, your friends will be so dazzled, they'll go home and
ask their husbands, `Why can't you be more like Blair?' "

Andie laughed and wiped her eyes. "Somehow I doubt that."
She opened the box.

Sparkles reflected through the room when the light hit the
bracelet. Gold Xs linked together, with square-cut diamonds
studding every inverted corner, effectively surrounding each X
with diamonds.

Blair lifted it out of the box. "Which arm?"

Andie extended her right wrist and watched him latch the
clasp. He twirled it once around her arm. "There. Beautiful."

"So beautiful." Shame squelched the joy of the unexpected
gift. "Blair, I'm sorry. I shouldn't jump to conclusions."

"The last months have been hard for both of us. I know I'm
not doing much to help matters. This bracelet is my promise
that I'm going to try harder."

"I will, too." She held her hand aloft and watched the play of
the light off the colorless stones. The gold looked so smooth she
reached up to touch it. "We better get started on the lobster."

Blair smacked himself on the forehead. "The lobster! How
could I have forgotten? So much for doing better, huh?" He ran his
hands through his wet hair. "Do you think they're still alive?"

"Maybe."

"I've got an idea."

He led her down to the garage, opened the cooler's lid, and
peeked inside. "Yep, they're still moving."

"So what's the great idea?"

He smiled and pointed inside the cooler. "To celebrate our
anniversary, let's give these little guys their freedom. What do
you think? They might be too far gone to make it, but at least
we'll give them a chance-which is more than they would have
had." He looked at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Andie smiled, feeling a small warmth of hope begin to seep into
her. She welcomed the reprieve from the chill. "Great idea."

They drove down to East Beach. The volleyball courts stood
silent and empty in the glow of the moon and early rising
stars.

Blair tilted his head toward the ocean. "Let's leave our shoes
in the car." He removed socks and shoes, then rolled up his pant
legs. "I'll take these guys into the water. No need for both of us
to come down with frostbite."