One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (38 page)

“It sure looks that way.” There was a moment of silence, and then Nick leaned forward intently. “Look, Sam. I don't want you to betray any confidences. But is there anything—anything at all—you can tell me about what happened to Laura in that relationship? I want to help, but my hands are tied. I don't know enough.”

Sam toyed with her glass. “Don't you think this should come from Laura?”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Yes. And I've tried to get her to open up. I pushed pretty hard last night, in fact. Probably too hard. All I succeeded in doing was upsetting her. I came to you because you're her best friend, and I thought…” He shook his head. “I don't know what I thought. I'm desperate. Because the truth is, I'm falling in love with her.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Have you told her that?”

“Are you kidding? She's frightened enough as it is, and love can be a very scary word.”

Sam eyed him speculatively. “I see what you mean.”

Their food arrived, and Sam stared down at her plate for a long moment, her brow furrowed. Nick waited, praying she'd trust him enough to tell him something. Anything. Finally she looked up. “Okay, Nick,” she said in sudden decision, and he slowly expelled the breath he'd been holding. “It took me a long time to win Laura's trust, and I'm not about to jeopardize our friendship. But she does have blinders on when it comes to men, and I like you. I think the two of you could have something really special if she'd only give it a chance. So I'll tell you how we met, and I'll tell you what I know about the night she left Joe, because I was involved. But that's it. And to be honest, I don't know much more, anyway. Laura has never talked much about her marriage, and even with my big mouth, I sometimes know when to keep it shut.”

She speared a forkful of tuna salad and chewed thoughtfully. “Laura and I met when we were both in night school. In the ladies' room, of all places. Not exactly an auspicious beginning,” she said dryly. “Anyway, I remember thinking that she looked like she could use a friend. We ran into each other a few more times, and something just clicked. I can't explain it, because we're obviously Mutt and Jeff. She's a lady through and through, discreet, polite, considerate. All that good stuff. I'm more the irreverent loudmouth, the class clown, the kid who was always getting in trouble. But despite our differences, we became friends.

“It hasn't been easy for Laura, that much I know,” she said pensively. “Not that she's ever complained. That's
not her style. You've seen her apartment? Well, that's a palace compared to where she and Joe lived. It was a dump,” she said bluntly. “But it was all they could afford, and she refused to ask her family for help. To be honest, I doubt whether she's ever told them the real reason she left Joe. Anyway, she's had to fight every step of the way to get where she is, and she did it with sheer guts and determination.”

“Tell me about when she left Joe,” Nick prompted, when Sam paused.

She laid her fork down carefully. “That was a bad night,” she said with a frown. “Laura called me from a pay phone at the corner of her street, hysterical and almost incoherent. When I got there, she was still in the phone booth, shaking like a leaf, not so much hysterical anymore as in shock. She was wearing a jacket, even though it was warm that night, which I thought was odd. After I got her into the car, I asked her what happened, and she said that Joe had gotten drunk again and that he'd hurt her. Then she opened the jacket and I saw the blood all over her blouse.”

Nick clenched his napkin into a tight ball, closed his eyes and swallowed convulsively.

“Nick?” Sam paused, and with a worried frown reached over and touched his hand. “Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes and expelled a long breath, then reached for his drink. “Yeah. Go on.”

She hesitated briefly, then continued. “Well, at first she wouldn't let me look, but I insisted. And I can be pretty pushy. It's a good thing I
was
pushy that night, because when I saw that cut I took off for the emergency room like a bat out of…well, you get the picture. The
hospital took one look at her physical and emotional state, came to the obvious conclusion and called the cops. Laura wouldn't press charges, no matter how hard we tried to convince her to, but she did decide to leave Joe. That night. She insisted on going home to collect her things, so I drove her back to their apartment and waited at the door. Joe was sleeping it off by then, so there was no problem. I guess she left him a note. I never asked. Then I took her back to my place.”

There was a momentary pause as Nick stared into his glass, then he looked up at Sam. “Did Joe try to get her to come back?”

“I think so. I know he called a lot. Fortunately I answered one of the first calls and told him to keep his distance or I'd bring in the cops. I guess I was pretty convincing, because as far as I know he never actually came over.”

“And Laura never went back?”

“No. But it was really hard on her, Nick. I'm sure you've discovered by now how strong her faith is. She really believes in the sanctity of marriage and she took those ‘for better or worse' vows seriously. In case you haven't figured it out, she lives by the book—the good book, that is. She doesn't just talk about her Christian principles—she practices them. Anyway, I know she felt guilty about leaving Joe, despite what he did to her. She never once mentioned the word divorce and always acted as if their separation was only a temporary thing. I know she tried to get Joe into counseling for his problem. But he wouldn't go. She did tell me that she talked to her minister, who advised her to put her personal safety first, and I put my two cents in. But I
think she might actually have gone back to him one day, if Joe hadn't been killed.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was in a car accident two weeks after Laura left him.”

There was silence for a long moment, and then Nick spoke quietly, the anger in his voice barely held in check. “How many times did he hurt her before the night she called you?”

“I have no idea.”

He rested his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers, his untouched lunch forgotten. “I guess I suspected all this. But I was hoping I was wrong. No wonder she's so petrified of intimacy!”

Sam nodded. “I've been talking to her like a Dutch uncle, but I'm afraid I haven't made much of a dent. Maybe you'll finally break through.”

“I don't know, Sam. That's a pretty impenetrable fortress she's built around her heart.”

“Hang in there, Nick,” she said, touching his hand. Then she glanced at her watch. “Good grief! I've got to run,” she said, gathering up her purse and jacket. “I'll tell you something, Nick,” she said as she slid to the edge of the booth. “She's a fool if she lets someone like you get away. You don't happen to have any brothers, do you?”

He quirked his lips up into the semblance of a smile. “Afraid not.”

Sam lifted one shoulder in resignation. “It figures.”

She stood, and he rose and took her hand in a warm clasp. “Thank you.”

She shrugged. “I didn't tell you much more than
you'd already figured out. I know this isn't easy on you, but Laura's worth waiting for.”

But for how long? he asked himself in despair as he watched Sam disappear in the crowd. And with what results?

L
aura had no idea if Nick intended to keep their dinner date, but she went ahead with preparations anyway, guilt pricking at her conscience as she worked, telling her that she wasn't treating Nick fairly. She took and took, but gave nothing back. Not even trust. And he deserved that at least.

Distractedly she rolled the chicken cordon bleu in bread crumbs, placed them in a pan and put them in the oven. Why was she so afraid to share her past? Was it pride? Embarrassment that she'd let herself be treated so badly? Concern that her bottled up anger and resentment would be destructive once released? Fear that the information would be used against her? Or the guilt she had never been able to fully put to rest?

Probably all of the above, she thought with a sigh as she laid a linen cloth on the table and set out crisply starched napkins and sparkling wineglasses, placing two long tapers in candlesticks.

Laura didn't know why she was so afraid. All she knew was that the fear was real. Why was Nick even bothering with her? she wondered in dismay as she
riffled through her closet. There were probably thousands of women out there who would spill their guts to him and welcome him into their arms—and their hearts.

Laura's hand paused on her one good summer dress as she recalled the strength and comfort she had found in his embrace. And she'd found something more as well, she acknowledged. A tide of yearning, so strong it left her flushed and breathless, swept over her. No one had ever made her feel like this, not even…not even Joe, she forced herself to admit. With Nick it was different. Was it because she'd been so long without male companionship? Or was it more than that?

She slipped the teal green silk shirtwaist over her head, cinching the belt and leaving the bottom button open to reveal an enticing glimpse of leg. Then she turned her attention to her face, noting resignedly that the black eye hadn't faded one iota. No cosmetic magic was going to camouflage this shiner. She had to content herself with mascara on her good eye, lipstick and blush. Finally she brushed out her hair, leaving it loose and full. Usually it was too hot in the apartment to wear it down, but tonight she'd splurged and turned on the air-conditioning.

Should she tell Nick about her marriage? she wondered again as she distractedly fiddled with the buttons on her dress. Or maybe the more pressing question was whether she wanted to continue this relationship. Because if she did, this was the moment of truth. Nick had made that clear last night.

Restlessly she moved around her bedroom, tugging at the uneven hem of the comforter, straightening a picture, adjusting the blinds. The room was neat as a
pin already, though, leaving her little to do. Her eyes did one more inspection, coming to rest on the nightstand where she'd left her Bible. Slowly she walked over and picked it up, paging through to the familiar twenty-third psalm as she sank down on the side of the bed. The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want, she read silently, slowly working her way through the verse. As always, the lyrical beauty as well as the content refreshed her soul and brought her a sense of peace. Now if only she could decide whether to share her past with Nick!

Laura returned to the living room and inspected the small, carefully set dinette table, caught a glimpse of her meticulous appearance in the hall mirror as she passed, and smelled the aroma of the special, time-consuming dish she rarely prepared. And she realized with surprise that she'd already made her decision. She'd orchestrated the setting and ambience to show Nick she cared; now all she had to do was follow through with words. She closed her eyes.
Dear Lord, please stay beside me tonight,
she prayed silently.
Let me feel your presence and your strength. I don't know if Nick will even come, but if he does I owe him the truth. Give me the courage to share it with him.

The sudden buzz of the doorbell startled her, and her eyes flew open, her heart soaring. He was here! He'd come, after all! With shaking fingers she slid back the locks and pulled open the door.

At first all she could see was a huge bouquet of long-stemmed red roses and baby's breath. Then Nick's face appeared around the greenery, an uncertain smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I wasn't sure I'd be welcome.”

“I wasn't sure you'd come.”

“Laura, I'm sorry about last night. I was completely out of line. You were in no shape for a heavy discussion.”

“Well, I feel better tonight,” she said, stepping aside for him to enter. Then she reached over and touched one of the velvet-soft petals of a rose. “These are beautiful,” she breathed softly.

“Not very original, though. I don't suppose flowers are anything special for someone in your business.”

“These are,” she said simply. “Thank you, Nick.”

“It was my pleasure.” As she took the vase from his hands, he sniffed appreciatively. “Hey, something smells great!”

“Dinner. It's ready, if you're hungry.”

“I'm starved. I haven't eaten much today.”

She placed the roses on the coffee table, and when she turned back she found Nick studying her. His eyes caught and held hers, and there was a warm light in their depths that made a bolt of heat shoot through her. “That's a lovely dress. And you look wonderful in it,” he said quietly.

Laura felt a flush of pleasure creep onto her cheeks at the compliment. “Even with a black eye?” she teased.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I think you need to have your vision checked.”

“My taste buds are working,” he said hopefully.

She laughed and shook her head. “Go ahead and sit down. I'll have dinner on the table in a minute.”

She turned away, but he caught her hand and she looked back in surprise.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, scrutinizing her face.

She smiled. “I'll live.” She tried to turn away again, but he didn't release her hand.

“Let me help.”

She shook her head firmly. “Not tonight.”

His eyes traced her face once more, and finally, with obvious reluctance, he let her go. He strolled over to the table, noting the linen, the crystal and the candles, and he glanced questioningly at Laura, who was hovering in the doorway. “You went to a lot of trouble.”

“Not nearly as much as you went to for me,” she said quietly.

Although Laura kept the conversation light as they ate the gourmet fare she'd prepared, he sensed an under-current of tension. By the time they settled on the couch after dessert, he knew something was up. She seemed distracted and preoccupied, and when he reached over and gently touched her arm, she jumped.

“Oh!” Her hand went to her throat and her startled eyes flew to his. “Sorry,” she said with a shaky laugh.

“Laura, what's wrong?”

She stood and restlessly moved around the room, touching the flowers, straightening a picture on the side table, adjusting a lampshade. Finally she sank down into a chair across the coffee table from Nick. He remained silent, guarded, a slight frown on his face and an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Nick…about what you said last night,” she began hesitantly.

“I said a lot of things last night. Most of which I regret.”

She shook her head. “No. You were right. You've
been incredibly patient as it is. Why you're interested in someone with as many hang-ups as me…” She shook her head uncomprehendingly. “But the fact is you seem to be. You've never shown me anything but kindness and understanding, and you've shared your past with me. So I—I want to do the same with you.”

Nick drew in his breath, not sure whether to believe his ears. It seemed too much to hope for, and he watched her silently.

When he didn't respond, she twisted her hands in her lap and looked down. “That is, if you still want to hear it,” she said hesitantly. “It's a rather sordid tale.” She tried to smile to lighten the mood, but didn't quite pull it off.

“I'd like to hear it. But I need to tell you something first.” He took a deep breath, knowing that honesty was the only course. “I had lunch with Sam today.”

Laura's head flew up in surprise. “Sam?”

He nodded and leaned forward earnestly, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped in front of him. “I didn't know where else to turn. I care about you, Laura, but you wouldn't let me get close. I thought maybe if I understood what happened to make you so afraid, I'd know how to address it.”

“What did Sam tell you?”

“Not much. She made it clear that she wasn't about to betray any confidences, and I didn't expect her to. She just told me how you two met, and about her role the night you left Joe.”

“She told you I left Joe?” Nick could see the hurt in her eyes, the look of betrayal.

“No,” he corrected her quickly. “Actually, your mother told me.”

“My mother?” she asked incredulously.

“In a roundabout way. The last night we were there I went out for some air and found her on the porch. In the course of conversation, she mentioned your separation. She assumed I knew.”

“Oh.”

“That's the extent of my knowledge, Laura. No one violated your confidence.”

She nodded, still assimilating what he'd just told her. “You know a lot. More than I expected. Which may make this easier.” She drew a shaky breath and stared off into a blank corner, carefully keeping her face expressionless and her tone factual. “Joe and I were what romantics call childhood sweethearts,” she began. “I never went out with anyone else. We were always a pair, from the time we were children. When I was eighteen and he was twenty, we decided to get married. My parents never did think we were right for each other, but when they realized we were determined, they supported our decision.”

She leaned her head back against the chair and transferred her gaze to the ceiling. “Joe had an associate's degree in data processing, which made him well educated for Jersey, and he had great dreams. So we moved to St. Louis, with not much more than hope to sustain us. As it turned out, the competition here was a lot more fierce than Joe expected, and he just couldn't compete with four-year degrees and MBAs. He finally got a low-paying job, as a data entry clerk, and I worked in a department store to help make ends meet.

“As time went on, Joe began to lose heart. It was clear that his only hope of advancing was to get more education, but he had no interest in going back to
school. I finally realized that if we were ever going to have a better life, it was up to me. So I went instead. I'd worked every summer in a greenhouse at home, so I got a job at a nursery and began to take classes in landscape design. I discovered I had a knack for it, and decided to go on for my degree.”

Her voice grew quieter. “I don't exactly remember when it started to get really bad. It happened so gradually. I think Joe resented my ambition, for one thing. And I know he was frustrated. Anyway, he started to drink—heavily—and a side of him emerged that I'd never seen before. He'd get belligerent when he was drunk, and push me around physically. And he would belittle my efforts to get an education. Then he started making fun of the way I looked, especially my weight, which was dropping steadily. He…he even laughed at my faith. He began to lose jobs, one after another, and finally he just quit working. Our life grew more and more isolated, and I felt so cut off and alone. If I hadn't had school, and Sam, and my church, I doubt I would have made it. Those were the only normal things in my life—those, and my family,” she said with a catch in her voice. She paused and took a deep breath.

“I told myself that he was sick, that what was happening wasn't my fault,” she continued. “But the guilt was there, anyway. I tried to convince him to get help, but whenever I brought it up he got angry. The last time I suggested it was the night I left. Believe it or not, it was our fourth anniversary.”

Nick didn't know when the tears had started. He just knew that suddenly they were there, twin rivers of grief running silently down her cheeks. The unnatural lack of sound unnerved him, and he sat there helplessly,
silently cursing the man who had done this to Laura. He longed to reach for her, to hold her, to tell her that he'd never let anyone hurt her again. But he held back, knowing there was more, knowing that she needed to finish what she'd started. “What did he do to you that night, Laura?” he asked gently.

Her head swung around, and her startled eyes met his. It was almost as if she'd forgotten he was there. She swallowed with difficulty, and her eyes flitted away again. When she spoke, her words were choppy. “It was late. I was asleep. A crash from the living room woke me up, and I ran in to see what had happened. There was a broken whiskey bottle on the floor, and I went over to help Joe clean it up. But he…he slapped me, and he started saying…terrible things.” Her voice quavered, and she paused, struggling for control. “I got scared and I backed away, pleading with him to get help, but he was yelling… I started to turn away, so I didn't even see it coming until it was too late.”

“See what, Laura?” Nick prodded gently.

“The bottle. He threw the broken bottle at me. I had on a nightgown…my shoulders were bare… It hit me here.” Her voice caught and she gestured toward her right breast.

Laura was close to losing it, she knew. Only superhuman control and the Lord's help had let her get this far without breaking down. That was why she'd physically removed herself from Nick. One touch from him, and she knew her fragile control would shatter.

Nick watched the struggle taking place on Laura's face. There was no way he could make this any easier for her. All he could do was let her finish and then be there to hold her, to stroke her, to love her.

“I guess I finally admitted then that things were probably over between us,” she said unevenly. “So I left. Sam took me in, bless her heart. Joe kept calling, begging me to come back. Sam told me I'd be a fool to give him another chance. So did my minister, in a more diplomatic way. But I still felt an obligation to try everything I could to straighten out our marriage. I was raised to believe that it was a sacred trust and something to be preserved at all costs. Except maybe physical danger,” she admitted. “I finally realized that the next time Joe got drunk I might not get off with only a three-inch scar. My safety was literally at stake. Besides, the love I'd once felt for Joe had just about died. All that was left was fear. So I finally made the decision that I wasn't going back unless he got some real help and we went into counseling together. I told him he had to truly change before I'd come back. He was so angry and upset the night I called to tell him…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, and he saw her swallow convulsively. “A few days later, he was killed in a drunk-driving accident.” She paused and blinked rapidly. “You want to hear something funny?” she said, choking out a mirthless laugh. “He wasn't the one who was drunk. All those nights I'd lain awake, terrified that he'd run down some innocent person…” She fell silent, her mind clearly far away, but after a few seconds she resumed her story.