A Sea Change (23 page)

Janet glared at Nick. “Jim, could you leave us alone? I’ll be all right.” She waited until her husband had left the room, then said, “That was completely uncalled for.”

“I’ll tell you what’s uncalled for. You telling me how to act in front of my daughter,” he’d replied. “You’ve got balls, Janet. I’ll give you that. You’re standing there threatening me with a morals charge, like you’re such a great example of American motherhood. How many times did you screw Jimbo in our bed while you were my wife?!” He paced a few steps and turned. “Christ, Janet, I was on a
date.
What were
you
doing?”

Her eyes shifted away from his.

“So – are we done with the etiquette lesson, Miss Manners? Can I go now?”

His head throbbed and Nick knew he had to find a drugstore fast. The Federal Way exit was two miles ahead, and he took it. Pulling into the first parking lot he came to, Nick trolled the strip mall until he was rewarded with a Walgreens.

He sat in his truck and downed three Excedrins, along with a can of soda. Then he leaned back and waited for the pain to abate. As he closed his eyes, the craving hit him again, taking him by storm. It had been a long time since he’d felt the urge to medicate himself, and he realized he was scared. The pounding of his heart matched the one in his head.

Why had he let himself get sucked into Janet’s small-minded orbit again? If there was one thing his rehab counselor taught him, it was that his rage wasn’t aimed only at Janet and Jim Kingston. A big part of his anger was directed at himself: for fooling himself into thinking Janet loved him, when all she’d wanted was his name while it meant something; for staying in a marriage that hadn’t worked from Day One.

And if Kingston weren’t such an asshole, he might actually feel a little sorry for him. But Jim Kingston had walked into marriage with Janet of his own free will. Her methods must have gotten more sophisticated, because with Nick all she’d had to do was cry after telling him she was pregnant. Looking back, Nick could see it had been quite a performance.

So, why did he give a shit what she said anymore?

Easy.

Because she still held all the cards.

She had Becky. And given the right circumstances – and a big enough law firm – she could see to it he never saw his daughter again.

Nick opened his eyes. His head felt marginally better. The reflection from the peach-colored sky touched everything he saw. It was almost seven, the hour he and Maddy had agreed to meet. He’d nearly forgotten.

Seeing Maddy sounded really good to him. But the hell with the Patrick McKay stuff. And right now he didn’t give a damn about the photo of Maddy and her brother. No. Right now, finishing that wordless conversation they’d started at his door last night was all the talking he wanted to do.

He started the truck and shoved it into gear.

Journal
Entry

July 21

I want a record of all the ‘firsts’ in our relationship. The past 24 hours have provided so many. I feel the need to relate details I’d normally gloss over. In the past I would’ve said, “There’s no way I’d forget that,” and usually, I wouldn’t. But the actual emotions and feelings always seemed to get lost. Today they’re incredibly important to me. Incredibly special.

Nick and I didn’t start talking until late last night.

I didn’t know what to expect. I’d been nervous all day. I kept thinking about what had happened at his door the other night, and a part of me wanted to finish that. But the other part kept saying, “You need to get straight on where you both stand emotionally.” I knew it was time for total honesty. Or as much honesty as the two of us could take at that particular moment.

I kept changing my clothes, trying to decide what was appropriate. He’s always seen me in jeans or shorts, and I thought a long skirt would signal a change. Give him a different message. A ‘let’s get serious, no baring of the bodies until we’ve bared our souls’ kind of message.

Unfortunately, the word ‘no’ doesn’t seem to be in my vocabulary when it comes to Nick, and I didn’t know how to deal with this need to say it to him.

He was late, which made me even more nervous. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I’d pace around the house, then flop in a chair, then get up again. Chloe followed me around like a puppy. I kept hearing noises outside and, thinking it was Nick, I’d go to the door, but the footsteps would just keep going down the path.

When he finally knocked on the door, and I opened it and saw his face, I knew I’d have to be a lot stronger than I ever thought. But before I knew what was happening, his mouth was on my neck, and I could smell him, and all rational thought disappeared.

He pushed me against the wall and I didn’t say a word. He planted his hands on either side of my shoulders, shoved a thigh between my legs, and kissed me so hard my head hit the plaster, and I didn’t care. His hips ground into me, and even through his jeans I could feel how hard he was. And suddenly my fingers were trying to find his fly button.

He had my skirt shoved up around my waist, my underwear down around my ankles. The taste of his tongue sent me out of control. I think I actually said, “we can’t do this” at the moment I slipped my hand inside his pants to free him. And he might have said “too late.” But it was lost on me, because his hands lifted my legs and I clamped them around his hips, and he pinned me to the wall.

I was completely gone by then. The scratches on his neck and back are proof of that. And then something began to happen I never thought would. I could feel it coming, and I know I was saying his name over and over.

And then he said, “Come on, baby.” The voice was Nick’s, but it came from some other place in him. “Tell me how much you want it…” And now he was pushing up and hard. “Tell me. Let it go.”

That did it. Suddenly my body seemed to fold in on itself, and I had an orgasm of epic proportions. So strong I know I was pulling him in even deeper. And I said the words “Oh God, Nick – I love you” without even thinking. But I don’t know that he even heard me, because he came so hard he almost shouted my name.

After that we were motionless – very quiet. He was still inside me, and still – somehow – holding me up. We kissed, slowly this time. I could feel a warm trickle of his semen down my thighs. It was unexpectedly erotic, and I shivered and held him tighter.

His arms started shaking from the strain of holding me up, and he lowered my legs to the floor, then crushed me to him.

I said, “You did it, Nick.”

He said, “No,
we
did it.”

Not much later we were on the deck, our chairs facing each other, our knees practically touching. I was still reeling from the whole thing. There wasn’t much talking going on, when he leaned forward and took my hands in his. He looked down at them and started by saying, “I had a really shitty day today, Maddy. I’m not very good at – expressing myself.  But I needed you in a way I’ve never needed anyone before. I just wanted you to know that.”

I told him I understood.

And then he got right to the reason we were both there. He said, “I became Nick Patrick because I was ashamed of being Patrick McKay.”

He told me everything: from why he’d married Janet, to the injury he was sure was deliberate. From his dependence on painkillers, to the torment of rehab. He said the only thing that got him through it was thinking of Becky. He did it all for her, because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her completely to the two people who’d caused him so much agony.

When he seemed finished, I said, “Nick, I hope you realize none of that was your fault.” He nodded, saying, “I know. But for a long time my brain wasn’t getting the message. Sometimes, even now, the record gets stuck, and all I hear is how stupid I was.”

He told me how Mary had saved him from drowning in his own pity. And that later she told him one day he’d meet someone who’d provide the catalyst to make him want to come back to life, once and for all. By then he’d been on the beach almost a year, and he’d said to her, “This is good enough for me. I don’t need anything else.”

He looked at me then, smiled, and said, “Guess I was wrong.”

“Is that hard for you?” I asked. “Needing someone else, I mean.”

“Not so much hard. Unfamiliar. It’s been a really long time, and I gotta tell ya, Maddy, it feels good.”

That made me stop and think, and I said, “It does, doesn’t it.”

Then he said, “Tell me about the picture, Maddy.” And I did.

I started talking about Danny, and I couldn’t stop. I told Nick some things I’ve never said out loud. The things I’ve written in this journal. Jaed was right. Once I opened the box, everything flooded out.

I even showed Nick that last picture I took of him, and the strangest thing happened. While I was telling him about that final day, Nick reach out to touch my face, and then he handed me a napkin he’d used to wrap around his glass. I asked, “What’s this for?” And he said, “Baby, you’re crying. Didn’t you know?”

I said, “I don’t cry,” which was silly, considering the evidence to the contrary.

He smiled again, and said, “Like you don’t burn?”

As I wiped my eyes, he very softly said, “You still haven’t told me why you lied about the photo. What were you afraid of?”

I stood up and walked to the edge of the deck because I just couldn’t bring myself to look at him and tell him that part of the truth. He got up to follow me, and I asked him to stay where he was. And then I told Nick that the only other person I’d ever really talked to about Danny was Ted.

How it was early on in our relationship, when I still trusted him. I told Ted how confused I was by my parent’s reaction to Danny’s leaving. How they’d closed rank and basically pretended Danny had never existed. And how ashamed that made me feel. I told him that I’d never understood why Dad seemed to have it in for Danny for as long as I could remember. I hurt so much for such a long time, but my parents acted like nothing happened. They refused to talk about any of it.

Having gotten all that out, I finally turned around to face Nick, and I said, “Ted pretended like he cared when I told him, but through the years he used it to humiliate me. Whenever something didn’t go the way he wanted, he’d wait until we were in some social situation and say something completely off-the-wall like, ‘Did you know Greek families throw away their kids when they get tired of them? That’s why they have so many. Just ask Maddy…’”

I hadn’t thought of those moments for a very long time, and a huge sob came bubbling out of me. When I could see through my tears, Nick was standing in front of me, and I saw how angry he was.

I finally finished with, “I guess he conditioned me pretty well. I never felt safe telling anyone the truth about Danny. But it feels safe with you.”

When I couldn’t say anymore, he led me to the chair and took me on his lap. We held each other, and he whispered, “I’m sorry about your brother, but – like you said to me – what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I try to remember that,” I said.

The sky went from violet to sapphire blue to black while we sat out there. I didn’t know that kind of peace was possible.

And then he said, “Maddy, I want to make love with you,” so I got up, took his hand, and we went into the bedroom.

Chapte
r Twenty-Four

Nick knocked on Mary Delfino’s door and, when it opened, handed her the mail and said, “Did you know Maddy has a brother?”

“Good morning to you, too, Nick.”

“Sorry. Can I come in for a sec?”

Mary stepped aside, allowing him to lead her wherever he wanted to go to talk. She’d been through this many times with Nick and knew he’d wander the house until he found the spot that suited him. This time it was the back deck, shaded by the hillside.

The Puget Sound had strung together a record number of hot, dry days – thirty-six since the last sprinkle of rain – and there was an undercurrent of concern on the beach. There was a constant, if subconscious, awareness of the dangers the next big set of storms could bring. The unprotected, bare areas of the cliff – eroded by time and Man’s desire to build – could slip down and into the Narrows without warning. And if there happened to be a house in the way of the mudslide, so be it. They’d lost one just a few years ago, only six doors down from Mary.

“I hope we get a little rain soon. Something to settle the soil. George seems to think we’re in for a change.” Mary lowered herself onto a wooden bench and watched Nick as he tried to decide where to settle. “But I suppose you didn’t come to talk about the weather.  Nick, for pity’s sake. Find somewhere to perch.”

“Sorry.” Nick abruptly sat on the edge of the chaise.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. Just tell me what it is about Madeleine having a brother that has you so agitated.”

“Did you know?” he repeated.

“No, I didn’t. Is there some reason I should have? Has he come to visit?”

Nick shook his head, then gave Mary a condensed version of Maddy’s confession.

“Isn’t it strange,” Mary said. “When I first met Madeleine I felt something was missing in her life. I was certain it was you,” she mused. “It’s possible I wasn’t entirely correct.” Mary suddenly smiled. “Nick, how wonderful. She trusts you enough to tell you all this. May I assume you’ve shared your secret with her?”

“Yeah, I told her my whole miserable story. Happy?”

“Very,” Mary replied.

But she was more than happy. She was relieved. A large portion of the burden she’d been carrying fell off her square shoulders. Mary had never felt right about keeping secrets from Maddy.

“Where is Madeleine, anyway?” she asked.

“In the darkroom.”

“Of course. She spends as much time there as she does with you.”

Nick had begun picking at a loose thread on the cushion of the chaise, and Mary said, “Stop fidgeting and tell me what’s on your mind.”

“She’s still really hurting over the whole thing. I don’t know if I can make it better.”

“Although that’s a wonderful thought, it’s not up to you, Nick.”

“But I think she’s in love with me.”

“You think?” Mary prodded.

“All right. She said the words.”

“And?”

“And – I liked hearing them,” he replied.

“But you didn’t say them back.”

Nick jumped up and began pacing again. “You know I didn’t. The last time I thought I loved someone I got the crap kicked out of me.”

“I don’t know that what you had with Janet could ever be construed as love, Nick, but that’s neither here nor there.” Mary watched him for a few moments, then said, “I’m going to presume on our friendship and tell you how I think you feel about Madeleine. You care about what she thinks and feels. You want to help her. When she’s happy, you’re happy. If she’s sad, so are you. Do you want me to go on?”

Nick looked at her warily, then nodded.

“You want to protect her. If something happened to her now you’d feel a great deal of sorrow. You think of her often and if she’s not with you, you wonder what she’s doing.”

Mary stopped. She waited as Nick processed what she’d said. Her reward came within seconds.

“That may be true,” he said. “But you might as well be talking about Becky.”

Mary’s eyes danced. “And how do you feel about Becky?”

Exasperated, Nick threw up his hands. “Well, I love her, of course.”

“Exactly!” Mary said.

Reality hit him, and he said, “Oh, Christ.” Nick sank onto the bench next to Mary, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.

She patted his leg and said, “It happens to the best of us.”

“Oh, man…” he groaned.

“You see, Nick? You don’t have to say the words until you’re ready. But you might want to understand that the feelings are already in place.”

His hands slid down to uncover his eyes, and he stared – unseeing – across the Narrows. “What the hell do I do now?”

Mary chuckled. “Well, first of all, you may want to stop treating this as if it’s a natural disaster, and start thinking of it as a natural wonder.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “And secondly, you don’t need to do anything. Nothing’s changed in the last half hour, Nick. You’ve just had a small epiphany, that’s all.”

Nick spent the rest of the morning half-heartedly working on Sparky Karlson’s roof. Sparky’s latest attempt at outdoor cuisine had ignited the overhang, requiring the replacement of an eight-foot section of gutter, two eave brackets, the soffit, and about twenty shingles. Nick ran out of steam, and cedar shingles, around noon.

There was no answer to his knock on the darkroom door, and he traveled the path to Jaed’s house. Nick rang the bell and waited. There was no response and, out of habit, he checked the knob. When it turned in his hand, he shook his head and pushed the door open. Chloe padded down the hall, sat down about five feet from where Nick stood, and stared at him. He called Maddy’s name, didn’t get an answer, then tried one more time. Her reply to his second shout was faint, and Nick walked into the house.

“Where are you?” he said loudly.

“The bathroom. Hang on…I’ll be out in a sec.”

Nick leaned against the door. “What’re ya doing?”

Maddy laughed. “Normally, I’d say that’s none of your business, but I happen to be putting another hook on the door.” The sound of a screwdriver being driven into wood was followed by, “There. All done,” and  then the door opened. “Hi,” she said brightly, and went up on her toes to kiss him. “What’s up?”

Nick shrugged, and said, “I need to go into town and wondered if you wanted to have lunch.”

“Bad timing.” She rested her back against the door jamb. “I have a stack of confirmations to type up and get in the mail by this afternoon. And while I’m topside, I need to pick up the new brochures. You know. The ones I designed? They won’t be ready till after three and I can’t wait to see them…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve never seen me before.”

“Was I?” He felt flustered. “Sorry.”

Nick realized that was exactly what he’d been doing. After his conversation with Mary, he was seeing Maddy in a whole new light.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just hungry.” Nick moved toward her and lightly kissed her lips, afraid of what he’d reveal with anything more. But he got caught in her eyes, wondering how he’d feel if he never saw them again, and suddenly his hands were holding Maddy’s face and he kissed her like a sailor putting out to sea for six months.

“Whoa,” Maddy gasped when he released her. “Where did you say you were going?”