Authors: John A. Heldt
"Somewhere in Cambridge, Massachusetts, there is a man who means a lot to me. He is someone I have dated for several months, someone I love and respect, someone I have pledged to marry. He is a good man – a kind, honest, honorable man. He is training to defend our country, saving money for a house, and planning a future with me."
Grace took a breath.
"What am I doing here?"
* * * * *
The question hit Joel like a well-placed snowball from out of the blue, and it stung because the answer, for the past few hours, anyway, had seemed clear. Grace had cast her lot with him. But now he wasn't sure. Was this a date or an audition?
He replayed the day in his mind and realized he should have seen it coming. She had asked the question a dozen different times a dozen different ways. She had sought answers and clarity and hadn't gotten either. He had only himself to blame for that.
Joel understood her predicament. He had understood it from the start. Grace had a lot to lose. She had a ring on her finger and the promise of hearth and home. What sane woman traded love and security for a stranger who would not even come clean about his past?
Still, he found the question unsettling. They had made great strides in July, thanks in large part to Grace's own initiatives. The movies had been her idea. So had many of the walks and most certainly this trip. The kiss and the theatrics after the date with Linda needed no explanation. Yet here she was questioning her own handiwork.
Joel looked at Grace and saw a woman on the other side of a divide, a woman waiting for a signal. Despite all the attention and affection she had shown him, she had not yet decided to cross. Recognizing the danger that even a little doubt posed to their suddenly tenuous relationship, he moved swiftly to put it out.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "You're doing what you came to do."
Joel removed the cowboy hat from his head, placed it gently on hers, and gave her a long, soft kiss and the affirmation she needed.
"You're burning bridges."
CHAPTER 45
The spider patiently awaited her prey.
Curled in one corner of the sofa, Linda McEwan tightened the belt on her robe, placed a ceramic mug on a small end table, and picked up the latest copy of the
Saturday Evening Post
. She had risen at seven, an hour before anyone else, and fired up the percolator before staking a position in the living room.
By half past eight two others had found their way to the kitchen. Ginny Gillette had gone straight for the coffee and a newspaper on the dining room table and Katherine Kobayashi straight for a frying pan, three eggs, and a loaf of bread. When the small clock on the mantle chimed nine times, Katie walked in the living room with coffee and toast and sat on the other end of the couch.
"You're up early. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?"
"I had a lot of trouble sleeping last night," Linda said, taking a sip of her coffee. "But I'm better now. There is nothing that this stuff won't cure."
Katie smiled and grabbed an issue of
LIFE
magazine that featured Rita Hayworth on the cover. Another sleepy Sunday morning on Klickitat Avenue was under way.
Ten minutes later the last inhabitant of the rental house walked up the stairs, went into the kitchen, and poured a glass of juice. Wearing a yellow dress and a white straw hat, she spoke briefly to the journalist in residence and then headed toward the door.
The spider intervened.
* * * * *
"You seem to be in a hurry, Grace. Don't you want any breakfast?"
"No. I'm not very hungry."
"Oh," Linda said. She swung her legs over the front of the couch and put her magazine on the coffee table. "Did you have a nice day yesterday?"
"Yes, I did."
"That's good. Do you want to know what I did last night?"
"Sure."
"I went to the Mad Dog. And do you know who I saw at the Mad Dog?"
Grace desperately wanted to complete her walk across the entry and race out the door, but she knew she could not. Linda had set up a morality play and would not be denied her morning entertainment.
"Who did you see?"
"Why, I saw Betty. You know Betty – Betty DeConcini, our sorority sister, the one who helped you celebrate your birthday and your engagement to my brother?"
"Yes, Linda, I know Betty."
"Well, it seems Betty also had a nice day yesterday. She and Tony went hiking with four others at Mount Rainier." Linda got off the sofa and walked to the middle of the living room. "And do you know who she saw picnicking in a field at Paradise?"
"I'm sure you'll tell me."
"She saw none other than Grace Vandenberg. Only Grace wasn't alone. She was having a very nice time with a tall, dark-haired man in a cowboy hat."
When Linda's voice became loud and animated, Ginny walked from the kitchen to the entry. She stopped a few feet behind Grace and leaned on the wall. Katie had long since put Rita Hayworth on the table. Like Ginny, she wore a look of concern.
"Let's see. He was a tall, dark cowboy. That doesn't sound like Paul, does it?
"No, it doesn't."
"You're damn right it doesn't."
Linda narrowed her eyes and folded her arms as she took a few steps forward.
"How could you, Grace? How dare you! You are my friend. We're supposed to be sisters. Does that mean anything to you?"
Grace glanced at her interrogator but could not maintain eye contact. She knew Linda was right and had no answer for her behavior. The morning from hell was just part of the price she would pay for falling in love with two men.
"I'm sorry, Linda. Things just happened."
"Things just happened? Things just happened?" Linda exploded. "Day trips to Mount Rainier don't just happen, Grace. Sneaky peeks at the theater don't just happen. Long walks on Tuesdays don't just happen. You've been planning this all along, even after Joel and I went to the dance and then to the movie."
Linda stepped to within five feet of Grace and pointed a finger in an accusatory manner. Her face was the picture of rage.
"And that's just me. What about my
brother
? Have you even given him a thought since he left? He's off defending this country and trying to better himself for you and here you are whoring around the state behind his back."
"That's enough, Linda," Ginny said.
"I'm not done! You are engaged, Grace. Engaged! Do you know what that means? It means you don't go running off to the woods to play with someone else. It means you stay faithful to the one you're supposed to marry. Did you get a room too? I hope so. I'd hate to think you'd wreck a lot of lives for a kiss."
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," Grace said as tears cascaded down her face.
"I'm sure you didn't," Linda said. She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. "But you
did
hurt people. You did. And nothing you say or do now can fix that."
Grace stared at the door in a daze, considering whether to stay or go. It took all of her strength just to keep from hitting the floor.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Linda asked. "Go to church. Say a prayer for my brother and maybe yourself. God may forgive you, but I never will."
Grace turned to face Ginny, then Katie, and finally Linda. The first two offered empathetic smiles, the latter a look of disgust. Seeing no option but to step forward, Grace walked out the door to the world beyond. She did not return for a week.
CHAPTER 46
Grace fed a multitude with two loaves of bread. But she did not feel much like Jesus, and the gratitude and devotion of her followers, a dozen noisy mallards on the south shore of Green Lake, was fleeting. They scattered with the last crumb.
Turning away from the web-footed vultures, she took off her sweater and settled into a surprisingly comfortable wooden bench. She gazed at a designated swimming area fifty yards away, where two women tried to teach twenty kids the crawl stroke. Mesmerized by the sights and sounds of splashing, squealing children, she did not hear Seattle's most intrepid young reporter approach from behind.
"Katie said I could find you here," Ginny said. "Do you mind if I sit?"
"No. Please do."
Grace acknowledged her visitor with a glance but quickly turned away. She wasn't yet sure she wanted to look anyone in the eyes, even her oldest and dearest friend, following her total humiliation six days earlier. After walking out of Linda McEwan's kangaroo court, Grace had driven her uncle's Ford to a nearby Lutheran church and then to a Queen Anne-style mansion in Madison Park. When Edith Tomlinson saw her niece's red eyes, she made up a bed and fixed lunch but asked no questions. Virginia Gillette had no such reservations.
"Have you seen Joel this week?"
"We went for a walk on Tuesday, and he stopped by the library yesterday to bring me a sandwich, but that's it. He said he'd call today about a movie tonight, but he's not pushing. He's giving me room to sort things out."
"Is there still anything to sort out?"
"No. Not really. That's the one thing I'm sure of."
Ginny put an arm around Grace. In the distance quacking ducks competed with splashing swimmers, piercing the perfection of an otherwise tranquil Saturday morning.
"Ginny?"
"Yes."
"Do you think I'm an evil person?"
"Heavens no," Ginny said, laughing and hugging Grace tightly. "You're a woman in love, though sometimes the two are one and the same."
"Do you think I'm wrong?"
"Now, that's a different question. I don't have a clear answer for you. We all have to decide what's best for us, particularly on matters as important as marriage. I like Paul, and I think he would make you very happy. But I know why you love Joel. He's like an ice cream sundae you get for lunch every day. What you have to decide is whether you want a sundae seven days a week or something a little healthier."
"Your advice is not very helpful," Grace said with a flicker of a smile. "You know how much I like ice cream."
"Oh, Grace, you are so precious! I've missed you. Katie has too."
"But not Linda."
"No, not Linda. She left on Thursday and moved into an apartment with one of her education friends. She said she'll remain active in the sorority, but I don't think we'll hear much more from her."
"What about our bills?"
"I'll pick up her share, for the rest of the year, if necessary. It's worth it to me to have you and Katie around. I could not ask for better friends and housemates."
"Thanks."
"Trust me, Grace, the money's no object."
"I mean thanks for coming out here. I know this is a busy time for you and that you have better things to do than manage my disaster of a social life."
"That's what best friends are for."
Grace squeezed Ginny's hand and gazed again at the lake. Several outdoorsmen in rowboats and sailboats plied the waters nearby, including a flirty lad in a dinghy who had waved several times at the occupants of the bench.
"Is something wrong?" Ginny asked.
"No. I'm just thinking. I still have unfinished business. Paul knows nothing about any of this. It's not fair to keep him in the dark. I need to write him before he gets his leave in a couple of weeks. He'll be here August 16."
Ginny smiled sadly and gave Grace a gentle hug. She took a breath and turned to face her friend.
"I don't think a full rundown of the particulars will be necessary."
"Why is that?" Grace asked.
"I'm afraid Linda has beat you to it."
CHAPTER 47
The café overlooked the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks, a component of a canal that linked the saltwater of Puget Sound with the freshwater of Lake Washington. Grace picked the restaurant because she knew Paul McEwan liked its sandwiches. She picked a restaurant because she wanted to meet him on neutral ground.
Arriving a few minutes late in a light blue cotton dress, she walked through the café proper to French doors that led to a large, sunny patio in back. She moved quickly toward a uniformed naval officer seated at a far table. Except for an older couple enjoying coffee and a newspaper three tables down, they had the place to themselves. He stood up when she approached and gave her a warm hug and a kiss.
"You look stunning, Grace. I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Paul."
Grace tried to look happy, forcing a smile. She thought a happy face was the least she should give her fiancé after eight long weeks apart. But a few minutes into lunch, she realized that maintaining that face would be a challenge.
"I got your letters," Paul said, pulling two envelopes out of a jacket pocket. "I also got one from Linda. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
"I've fallen in love with another man."
"So it appears."
"Do you want to tell me what some guy who jumped off a train two months ago has over me and everything I have offered you – and am still offering you?"
"I don't know, Paul. He's just different. He's interesting. I can't explain it. But this has nothing to do with you."
"The hell it doesn't!" Paul whispered loudly. "When I left Seattle, I thought we had an understanding, a commitment, a future. You took my ring. You said you loved me. Now, you're telling me it's over because some slick-talking salesman 'interests' you? What do you really know about this guy, Grace?"
"I know he thinks enough of me to let me work this through. He hasn't as much as called in three days. He knew you were coming and has given me time to think. I also know he is a gentleman and is very intelligent and has a wonderful sense of humor, just like someone else I know."
Paul scowled, shook his head, and looked away, toward the locks, where vessels of all shapes, sizes, and purposes came and went with each rise and drop of the water level. When the waitress brought his toasted tenderloin steak sandwich, he pushed it aside and tapped his fingers on the top of the small round table.