Ex’s and Oh’s (11 page)

It was the Fourth of July weekend, the biggest party weekend of the summer. And she was wandering through her house. At eleven o’clock. Alone.

She was trying not to feel sorry for herself. She and the girls had planned to go to a club after their massages and facials. Caroline had agreed to be their designated driver. Tori couldn’t blame Caroline for bowing out following her scare earlier. Elaine and Nell hadn’t wanted to go out after that, either.

It would have been good for both of them to go, but after leaving the hospital and dropping Caroline at her summerhouse, all they’d wanted to do was reminisce about their pregnancies and simpler times.

No matter how far women had come, there were two things in life that never ceased to turn the majority of them to mush: pregnancies and newborn babies. Maybe there were three, but damn, Tori hated to admit that men were on the list.

Nell had invited Tori to spend the evening with her and
Elaine, but there was only so much reminiscing about childbirth Tori could take. She remembered her pregnancy. She’d only gained nineteen pounds, and wore her regular jeans home from the hospital. Not her skinny jeans, but jeans nonetheless. She’d started exercising four weeks later. She’d put Andy in his little snuggly seat and sat him in front of her while she worked out. He’d hardly squawked, watching her movements, mesmerized.

She’d been just as mesmerized with him.

Surely no woman had ever delivered a more beautiful child. At twenty-two, she’d practically been a baby herself. When she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d been terrified her life was over, that a baby would change everything. It hadn’t been that way at all. She’d loved Andy from the moment she saw him. The intensity of her emotions had surprised her, and she remembered thinking that everything might just work out after all, which was extremely optimistic, especially for her, for she’d always bored easily.

She’d never tired of watching Andy grow. To this day, she loved him more than she loved another soul on earth.

Tori sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised she’d wound up on this side of the living room. It was where she kept the albums and photographs. She picked up the one family photo she’d kept out after the divorce.

Her hair had been shorter then. And look at that nose!
She shuddered. But then she looked at the family she, Shane and Andy had been. They’d been beautiful, her old nose not withstanding: an above-average attractive couple and their adorable seven-year-old son.

Andy
had
been adorable. She’d bought his chinos and that little shirt with the anchors on it in Traverse City. No amount of hair gel had tamed that little cowlick. She could practically hear his high-pitched, little-boy laughter. She couldn’t believe how much she missed it.

He was looking at his father in the picture. He’d adored Shane. He still did. Back then, they’d both adored her, too. In the end, it had been the man she’d grown bored with, the man she’d blamed for her unhappiness. And now he was seeing someone else.

“A chunky redhead,” Andy had said.

That wasn’t the reason for this niggling fear, this quiet panic. She wanted to believe she was better than that. She was worried about Andy. She was so weary of worrying. He was wounded so deeply she couldn’t reach him anymore. What if he never recovered?

Guilt and worry churned inside her. She felt wretched. The need was back, stronger. Times like these, she wished she was in a relationship. A little slow dancing, a man’s strong arms, and later…

Ah, yes, later was what she needed most of all.

She knew how she looked these days. Perhaps she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she was close. Men always noticed her when she entered a room. And it wasn’t just the streaks in her hair, her perfect nose and sexy shoes. Nell insisted Tori emitted pheromones.

Too bad Nell and Elaine hadn’t wanted to go to the club. Tori needed a diversion tonight. She was only thirty-seven years old, and everyone knew women peaked in their thirties. There was nothing wrong with wanting a diversion. What better diversion was there than a man who couldn’t take his eyes off her, who only saw what was on the outside?

A man who couldn’t see the real her.

Her wandering took her to the hallway. She’d bought this house shortly after the divorce. She was proud that she’d been able to afford it on her own. It wasn’t large, but it was beautifully decorated. And it was hers.

Her bedroom was on the right, Andy’s on the left. His door was closed partway. The light was off. It was Saturday night, a holiday weekend, and her son had gone to bed at nine-thirty.

Pushing the door open a little farther, she called his name softly. Listening, she tiptoed to his bed. His breathing was deep and even. Moonlight spilled across his pillow, allowing her to make out the shape of his face and the
bony shoulder not covered by the sheet. His face and arms were tan, but the rest of him was so pale. He never took his shirt off, never tried to impress the girls or the guys. He never seemed to have any fun.

Emotion welled in her chest, in her throat, behind her eyes. He looked painfully serious, even in sleep.

He never laughed anymore. He hardly talked to her. He spent time with his father nearly every day now. It was as if
she
was the enemy. She knew he blamed her for the divorce. He was depressed, lost, sad.

But he was no dummy.

He never went out with friends anymore. His father thought they needed to give him more time. He needed a goddamned shrink. That was what he needed.

Her son was more like her than she wanted him to be.

She left his room, leaving his door the way she’d found it. Now what? The thought of whiling away a festive holiday weekend night alone was almost more than she could bear. She wanted life, noise, excitement, fun. If only Nell and Elaine hadn’t bailed on her.

So what if they had? a voice in the back of her mind whispered.

Sure, it would have been nice to go to the club with friends. But she was a big girl. More importantly, she was
a grown woman, a grown woman with needs, and tonight those needs wouldn’t be tamped down.

She scribbled a note for Andy—not that he ever woke up once he was asleep. She left it on the refrigerator, just in case, then dashed into her bedroom for her lipstick and i.d.

Caroline
took a Thermos and two teacups from her large woven bag. “Tea, Karl?”

Every day for two weeks Karl had answered in the same manner. Today, he said nothing. He was listless this morning. He’d tired sooner than usual, and had ridden in his wheelchair most of the way to the courtyard.

“Would you care for a cup of tea?” Caroline repeated gently.

He coughed. When he was able to speak, he said, “If it’s Earl Grey.”

“Did the fireworks keep you awake last night?” she asked, pouring the steaming brew.

“Fireworks?”

He coughed again, and she could see how much it cost him. Handing him his tea, she wondered if it was going to be one of those rare visits in which she did most of the talking.

“You were right about reciprocity between the Illinois and Michigan State Bar Associations, Karl. I’ve started the process, provided them with the proper affidavit and forms and submitted my work history. You’ll never guess where I’d like to set up my new practice.”

Karl sipped his tea quietly.

Continuing as if he were participating in the conversation, she said, “There’s an office space available on Main Street right here in Harbor Woods. It’s where you practiced law, isn’t it?”

“Henry and I planned to start a practice there together.”

Caroline held her breath. “Henry?” she whispered.

“My buddy and I. Went to school together. His family was better off than mine. It didn’t bother Henry or me.”

He paused, and Caroline feared that was all he would say. It was a relief when he continued.

“People always thought I was the bigger hellion. Wasn’t true. He just never got caught.” Karl coughed into an old-fashioned handkerchief. Folding it carefully and returning it to his pocket, he said, “One time we climbed to the top of the water tower after dark and wrote something scandalous about the teacher. Henry did half the writing, but I’m the one who got caught with green paint on my hands. Took a whipping from the teacher for it, and then another one from my father when he found out.”

“Did Henry get spanked, too?”

“No.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Nobody knew.”

“You didn’t tell anybody you had an accomplice?” she asked.

“He would have done the same for me.”

Caroline wondered if Karl would say that if his memories hadn’t stopped there, if he’d gone on to recall the last letter he’d received from Anna, and what must have felt like the ultimate betrayal.

Karl finished the rest of his tea in silence. Taking his empty cup and saucer from him, she turned slightly, her head bowed as she placed the dishes in her bag near Karl’s chair. Something brushed her hair. At first she thought it was the warm breeze, so soft, so tentative was the touch. Being careful to move slowly, she looked up from her position on the quilt, into Karl’s faded blue eyes.

His hand stilled in midair. He looked startled, as if he was expecting her to be someone else.

“Whatever happened to Henry?” she asked quietly.

He made no reply.

Caroline thought about the diary she and Shane were going to look for later this evening. Had Karl discovered
Anna’s hiding place in the lighthouse? Had he read it, then put it away someplace safe?

Had Karl and Henry ever spoken again? Had Karl tried to find Anna when he returned home after the war? Or had it all been over, in the past but not forgotten? There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, a hundred memories she wanted to share with him about her life with the man who had raised her. But she didn’t want to upset him, nor was it her place to defend Henry O’Shaughnessy, not to Karl, not after all this time, so she simply returned Karl’s gentle smile and told herself to be happy with the one thing she’d been granted.

Time.

There was something sad about a house that had sustained someone’s existence for a very long time but now sat empty.

It was Tuesday evening, and Caroline and Shane had already made a quick pass through Karl’s house at 408 Prospect Street. Like the man who’d lived there, his home was unpretentious, uncluttered and unimposing. Cape Cod in style, it had two bedrooms downstairs and one up. Inexpensive framed prints of lighthouses and ships hung in every room. There were only a few personal photographs. One was a black-and-white picture of a man and
woman. Caroline assumed they were Karl’s parents, her great-grandparents. She stared at the photo for a long time. Next to it was a photograph of a boy and a girl. She recognized Karl from his stance and mischievous grin. The little girl must have been his sister, Dolores. The only other frame on the low shelf contained a color snapshot of Shane and Karl. In their hands they each held a massive fish.

“I can’t imagine sitting in a boat all day trying to catch one of these.”

“You’ve never been fishing?” he asked.

“No.”

“You haven’t lived.”

With a small smile, she said, “Of course, I’ve never dived off a cliff, either. Suffice to say I’ve never been what you would call a risk taker. Discovering I was pregnant has been a huge step for me.”

“You never mention the father.”

The scrape of a drawer being opened put her in mind of fingernails on a chalkboard. Or perhaps that was the scrape of her conscience. “He’s a brilliant litigation consultant, and the last I knew, he was thrilled to be reconciling with his ex-wife and two young sons. I think he would have viewed my little bombshell as a complication none of them needed.”

“You
think?
”

Caroline grappled with what was morally and ethically right. More than anything, she needed to do what was best for her baby. She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she?

She opened a drawer, too. Being careful not to disrupt anything, she looked inside. It reminded her that keeping secrets had far-reaching consequences. She was discovering many parallels between her situation and Anna’s.

“I’m following my instincts. And I’m trying to do what’s best for my child. How do people know for sure what that is?”

“Most of the time, we don’t know,” he said. “We do what we hope is best, and if we’re lucky, every once in a while we get a glimmer in the form of a report card or an overheard telephone conversation or a smile that tells us we’re on the right track.”

There was something Caroline had noticed about parenthood. It united people in a way she’d never fathomed. It seemed to her that every parent wanted what was best for his or her child. And not one of them seemed to know for sure what that was. They were all flying blind.

And to think she’d almost missed it.

She opened another drawer, then quietly closed it again. Karl’s house was adequately but rather meagerly furnished. The most impressive feature was his collection
of books lining the floor-to-ceiling shelves in the living room. Volumes of Yeats, Hemingway and Angelou shared space with Grisham and Greeley, as well as entire shelves filled with law books and tomes whose authors she didn’t recognize.

She pictured Karl standing where she was standing, choosing a book from his collection. “It doesn’t feel right to be snooping through Karl’s personal belongings.”

“I thought you wanted to find your grandmother’s diary.”

“I do. At least I did.”

Shane was staring at her.

“What?” she said.

“You’re refreshing, that’s all.”

“
Refreshing
isn’t a word normally used to describe me.”

“That’s a crying shame.”

There was absolutely no reason to feel sideswiped by the compliment. Shane Grady was good-looking, but there was nothing unusual about the cut of his dark hair or the breadth of his shoulders. It was just that sometimes, when he looked at her the way he was looking at her right now, she thought that perhaps she’d been looking for the wrong kind of man. Now why on earth should that surprise her? Everything else she’d thought was true was turning out to be false.

He thought she was refreshing.

She wondered who Shane was seeing, and if it was serious. She was tempted to say something coy, something like
You probably say that to a lot of women.

She brought herself up short. Caroline Moore was not coy and she wouldn’t pretend to be. She would either ask outright, or she wouldn’t ask at all.

“Shane, are you in there?” A woman with a three-packs-a-day rasp called through the screen.

Shane swore under his breath. “Come on in, Mom,” he said.

“What are you doing driving a Mercedes? You’re coming up in the world.”

Caroline recognized the large-boned woman shuffling inside. They’d spoken that morning shortly after her arrival in Harbor Woods a month ago.

Letting the door slam shut behind her, Shane’s mother stopped the moment she saw Caroline. “I see you found him.”

“He was at the marina,” Caroline said, introducing a smile into the conversation. “He was exactly where you said he would be. Hello, Mrs. Grady.”

“Misses schmisses. My name’s Rita. And it’s Cooper. Not Grady. Took my maiden name back as soon as I gave Shane’s old man the boot. Best way known to womankind to get in the last jab.” She looked at her son. “What are
you two doing over here, anyway?” She made a point of looking at Caroline’s slightly rounded belly. “Holy mother, are you pregnant?”

“Mom.”

“I, that is, yes, I am.”

“Is it Shane’s?”

“Mom!”

Caroline held up one hand to Shane. “It’s all right.” And to his mother, she said, “No, it isn’t.”

“Then why are you hiding over here?” Rita asked her son.

“We’re not—” Shane didn’t bother finishing.

“Have it your way. You always did like it better here than at home. Tell Andy to come see his Gram-maw-maw. My lawn needs mowing.” She let the door bounce closed as she shuffled down the porch steps.

After several seconds, Shane said, “They claimed she would be nicer after she stopped drinking. They lied.”

If Caroline didn’t burn in hell for keeping her pregnancy from Phillip, chances were she wouldn’t from laughing out loud now. She looked up at Shane. There were lines beside his eyes and between them. He wasn’t a man whose life lacked worry. He was becoming easier and easier to be around.

“Would you care to get out of here?” he asked.

Glancing around Karl’s house, she thought it sounded
like a good idea. Perhaps too good an idea. She was doing her darnedest to come up with an alternate plan when it occurred to her that she was doing it again. She was compartmentalizing her life, ignoring her instincts and pretending they didn’t matter.

Assuming her best courtroom stance, she looked at Shane and said, “Before we leave here, is there something you’d care to tell me?”

He exhaled loudly. He ran a hand through his hair. He finally looked at her and said, “Did one of the nurses say something?”

One of the nurses? Caroline could only shake her head.

“You probably noticed Karl doesn’t care to go to the courtyard anymore,” he said.

Of course she’d noticed, but she didn’t know what Karl had to do with her question.

“I spoke with his doctors a few days ago. He’s losing ground, Caroline.”

She lowered herself to a chair.

As Shane told her about the results of Karl’s EKG and the prognosis, she traced her mother’s charm with her fingertip. Speaking around the ache in her throat, she said, “Did the doctor say how long he has?”

“A few months at the most.”

Before her throat closed up entirely, she heard herself
say, “I thought you were going to say something else. I was prepared for that.”

“What did you think I was going to tell you?”

She really didn’t like this habit she’d developed for saying what she was thinking, but she replied, “I thought you were going to tell me you’re seeing someone.”

“Me?” His eyes were brown and clear and slightly bemused. “Put me in a scratchy robe and I could be a monk.”

A monk, hmm? she thought as he locked the door and they went their separate ways. He certainly had the sandals and beard for it.

“The kid has your chin.”

Caroline leaned closer to the ultrasound image in Tori’s hand. “Where do you see a chin?”

The weather had finally broken, and a high-pressure system was to thank for the comfortable seventy-eight degrees. Caroline smiled, because Henry would have been pleased to see that she was taking an interest in the weather.

All five of the girls were having lunch at an outdoor table at a quaint Italian bistro in downtown Harbor Woods. They were celebrating the official signing of Caroline’s new lease. The owners had finally called, and Caroline had agreed to rent the office space. Tori had added
a rider, giving Caroline the option to buy. Soon, Karl’s former offices would house her new practice.

The sonogram being passed around the table was icing on the cake. Caroline had memorized every facet of the image depicted on the film. She was five months along, and her baby was amazingly, perfectly formed. A tiny hand covered the lower half of his or her face, which meant Tori was joking about the likeness in chins.

The test results were back. Caroline was healthy, and by all accounts, so was her child. She had strict instructions to be careful, though, to take it easy and not overdo. Alice Cavanaugh continued to watch the levels of various components in her blood. Because Caroline had been on the pill when she’d conceived, an accurate due date had been elusive. However, judging from the size and development of the baby, they were fairly certain the pregnancy would reach full term by the second week in November.

“Did they say whether it’s a boy or a girl?” Nell asked, staring at the sonogram.

“Alice is pretty sure she knows, but I want to be surprised. So far, the entire concept has been a surprise. Why stop now? I can hardly believe this is all happening, and yet I can’t imagine going back to the way my life was before.”

The fringe on the umbrella over their table swirled in the breeze like legs in a chorus line. A busboy chased away
a bothersome seagull, and Tori smiled demurely at their waiter.

The man smiled back, then asked Elaine if she was ready to order. Elaine requested fresh-baked whitefish and steamed vegetables.