Three Brides, No Groom (15 page)

Once inside the safety and familiarity of her room, she sat on
her bed, her back against the headboard, legs bent, her face buried against her
knees. It didn’t take her long to convince herself that she would hear from John
that night at the latest. He might even be so anxious to apologize that he would
come for her, although he never had before. Until that afternoon he’d always
been loving and generous with her. They’d spent as much time together as
possible. In fact, because he’d taken up so much of her free time, her grades
had slipped since midterms, at least in classes other than math.

When she still hadn’t heard from him by the next morning, she
mulled over what to do. He had been angry with her, angrier than she’d ever seen
him, but when they married, they would face difficult situations again and
again. It was important that they learn to resolve their problems. By noon she’d
decided that if he wouldn’t seek her out, she would confront him.

Her guess was that he was embarrassed by the things he’d said
and done. He would appreciate the fact she loved him enough to come to him and
settle things once and for all.

As for her part in their disagreement, she wasn’t blameless. He
was right—she shouldn’t have told Janice about the engagement. But John needed
to realize that his behavior had been unacceptable. He owed her an apology.
Having made the decision to seek him out, Maddie felt worlds better.

Unfortunately, before she could confront him, she was required
to attend the graduation rehearsal. As luck would have it, she was paired up
with Brent Holliday. He’d never liked her, and judging from their brief
encounter the afternoon before, that hadn’t changed.

He didn’t look pleased to be assigned to be her partner. She
wasn’t exactly overjoyed, either.

“You can always request a change,” she said as they lined up
two by two, a male graduate on the left and a female on the right.

“I already tried.”

Despite her hard outer edge, Maddie flinched, surprised that
his words had the power to hurt her. She didn’t know him well and had no desire
to. From what she’d heard, his degree was in criminology. He’d already been
accepted into the Seattle Police Academy. An interesting occupation for the son
of one of Seattle’s best-known pastors. The Reverend Earl Holliday faithfully
preached fire and brimstone every Sunday morning at eleven. Not that Maddie was
interested in attending church services.

“I would expect a preacher’s son to have a more charitable
heart,” Maddie said, favoring him with a saccharine-sweet smile.

He chuckled softly as the processional music blared from the
speakers set up on the stage. “Don’t make the mistake of confusing me with my
father,” he warned.

“I don’t think there’s much to worry about there.”

They marched silently up the aisle. With someone else Maddie
would have joked and teased. Not with Brent. He’d made no attempt to be
friendly, and she couldn’t help wondering what she’d ever done to him. He didn’t
know her any better than she knew him.

As sophomores they’d had a couple of classes together, but her
degree was in history, so she’d rarely seen him once she’d declared her major.
She’d chosen history for her Uncle Alfie, because it was his passion.

It was because of him that she’d enrolled at Queen Anne
University. Although she’d made jokes about her rich uncle, she loved him
dearly. Her father had died when she was seven, and she could barely remember
him. Alfie was her father’s oldest brother, and he’d taken it upon himself to
see that his brother’s two children were properly cared for and educated.

Although he was getting on in years, Uncle Alfie had insisted
on attending her graduation. She wished now that she’d worked harder, earned
better grades. Uncle Alfie was a sweetheart, and she owed him more than she
could ever repay.

After practice she couldn’t escape the school gymnasium fast
enough. The last hour had dragged like a dredge scraping the ocean bottom.
Sitting though the interminable practice had been pure torture, so great was her
need to talk to John. And all the while she’d waited, she’d prayed that he’d
cleared up whatever had plagued him the day before.

After rushing across the campus, she found him alone in his
classroom, reading a technical journal. When he saw her, he quickly closed the
magazine and stuffed it into his briefcase.

She relaxed. All was well.

Then his eyes hardened, and her heart went still.

“John?”

“Get out.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was the
man she loved, the man she planned to marry!

He stood, and his face darkened in a scowl. “You heard me.
Out.”

It was almost comical that he believed he could intimidate her
with a few angry words. She’d stood up to bigger men than John Theda. Ignoring
his command, she marched into the classroom, then stood her ground, refusing to
move until she discovered what was wrong. “You owe me an explanation,” she said.
“What’s going on?”

He stood and snapped his briefcase closed. “I’ve had a change
of heart.”

“Just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

“Just like that,” he agreed. “I can’t trust you.”

“But…that’s ridiculous!”

“I relied on you to keep our relationship private, and you blew
it.”

“But surely—”

“That isn’t all.” He looked as if the mere sight of her was
enough to make him sick to his stomach. “Do you seriously think I don’t know
what’s going on between you and Steve Malcom?”

“Steve Malcom!” That was ridiculous.

“I understand the two of you were kissing in full view of the
entire student body.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, then promptly closed
it. The kissing incident had happened following the ugly confrontation with
John, and now he was using it as an excuse to give credibility to his behavior.
What nerve!

“It’s over,” he announced, as if they were talking about
something as mundane as a television movie, instead of their lives together.

Her knees felt as if they would no longer support her. “I don’t
understand,” she said, and her voice, faint as a summer breeze, wavered with
shock and dismay.

“I don’t expect you to. Now leave, and don’t try to contact me
again. Goodbye.” With his spine ramrod stiff, John Theda stalked out of the
classroom.

Maddie couldn’t remember ever being more hurt in all her life.
For almost twenty minutes she sat and waited for the worst of the pain to
pass.

Uncle Alfie, so kind and wise, had told her that a person’s
maturity could be gauged by how quickly they bounced back from disappointment.
John’s rejection was more than a disappointment. A numbness that refused to go
away settled in the area of her heart.

She’d learned her lesson, though, and it would take a long time
for her to risk her heart again.

A very long time.

* * *

Graduation was a blur. The one thing Maddie remembered
was walking across the stage and being required to pose briefly for the camera.
Knowing John was sitting somewhere in the front three rows with the other
faculty members gave her the necessary incentive to act as though she hadn’t a
care in the world. She dazzled Dean Williams with the brilliance of her smile,
accepted her diploma and walked down the stairs.

Following the ceremony, Uncle Alfie and her mother met her on
the lawn outside. The glorious sunshine made her squint as she stepped out of
the gymnasium. Ellie Coolidge hugged her and wiped a tear from the corner of her
eye, then turned to speak with a friend.

Uncle Alfie hugged Maddie next. “Your father would have been so
proud of you,” he whispered close to her ear.

Humbled, she pressed her head to his shoulder. It was then that
she saw Brent Holliday with his family. His gaze, dark and full of disapproval,
lingered on her. Nuts to him. She refused to allow him or John Theda or anyone
else to destroy her enjoyment of this day.

Uncle Alfie insisted on taking her and her mother to dinner at
one of his private clubs. They sat at a corner table in an elegant dining room,
where the walls were made of dark polished wood and the distinguished
gold-framed portraits resembled the waiters in their starched black tie.

“I can’t tell you how pleased I am,” her mother said as she set
aside her menu. The prices were outrageous, but Maddie knew Uncle Alfie wanted
them to ignore the cost.

Ellie Coolidge had never remarried. In many ways Maddie felt as
if she’d lost both parents the day her father died. Her mother had withdrawn
from life, shriveled up and surrendered to her grief. Maddie’s world was forever
changed.

“I’m pleased you chose Queen Anne University,” Uncle Alfie
said, breaking into her thoughts.

She smiled, seeing as her sweetheart of an uncle had helped her
make that choice. “I am, too,” she said, pushing all thoughts of John from her
mind and heart. After four years on campus, she would miss the school, miss
shaking up a few sensibilities, miss the few friends she’d made.

“It’s a good school,” her mother inserted.

Maddie agreed with a nod.

“From what I understand, one of your mathematics professors
recently made a name for himself in the history books.”

“Really.” She hadn’t heard anything about that. She reached for
a dinner roll and a pat of butter shaped like a tiny rosebud.

“John Theda’s his name, if I recall correctly,” Uncle Alfie
continued.

She dropped her butter knife. It hit the edge of the
gold-rimmed plate with a clang. Hastily she apologized and stared at her uncle.
“Say that again?”

“I read about it in the
Journal of Higher
Mathematics.
”

She continued to stare at her uncle blankly. “I don’t
understand.”

“The quadratic quandary,” Uncle Alfie said. “He solved it. It’s
gone unsolved for fifty years, maybe longer. It’s been years since I wrestled
with it myself. Every high-level math student does, you know.”

“When did this happen?” she asked. One thing Maddie had learned
about John in the months they’d dated was that he was basically lazy. He did
exactly what was required of him to teach class and nothing beyond that. If he’d
worked on solving the quadratic quandary, it was news to her.

“This April,” her uncle explained. “It’s big news.”

“What
is
the quadratic quandary?”
Maddie asked.

Uncle Alfie, an engineer by trade, removed a pad and pen from
his inside jacket pocket and wrote out the equation. He stared at it for a
couple of moments more, shook his head and scribbled a note, then handed it to
her.

She studied the equation and then looked up. “This isn’t
it.”

Uncle Alfie frowned. “It is, as I recall.”

She scowled. “I had this problem on a midterm test.”

“Yes, that’s quite common. I told you that almost every
mathematical student is given the opportunity to solve it. So many people
trying, but it’s never been done. That’s why that professor from Queen Anne is
making a name for himself.”

“But…” The room started to swim, and she gripped the edge of
the table.

“Maddie—” her mother gently touched her arm “—is everything all
right, sweetheart?”

She couldn’t answer, the anger bubbling up inside her until it
threatened to explode. John Theda hadn’t solved the quadratic quandary. She had.
And he was taking the credit.

Chapter 2

M
addie hadn’t meant to stop in the church.
Eaten up with anger and frustration, she had started walking aimlessly, with no
real destination in mind. Two months had passed since graduation. She’d found a
decent apartment and a good job with an insurance company, and had tried to make
a life for herself. Outwardly she was doing well, but inwardly the turmoil
brewed like malted beer. Nights were the worst. Try as she might, she couldn’t
get John out of her mind. The love she felt for him had festered like an
infected sore. Bitterness ate at her. Anger. Frustration. She had no peace, no
sleep, no comfort.

He had used her, and she’d been too blind and stupid to realize
it. Used her, and while he was busy taking credit for her accomplishment, he’d
made sure she hadn’t a clue what he was doing. No one would believe her if she
had the audacity to claim she’d solved the quadratic quandary. And that was
exactly what he was counting on her doing. Nothing.

It had taken her almost a week to realize how it had happened.
She remembered how she’d arrived for the exam late and therefore hadn’t been
there to hear him explain that the problem on the final sheet had never been
solved, so the students shouldn’t make themselves crazy over it. If ever there
was a testament to positive thinking, this was it. She’d believed it was just
one more problem on an already difficult test, and so she’d raced, full steam
ahead, thinking the others had worked out the solution, so she could, too.

Later, when he handed back the tests, he had called her to his
desk and apologized for having lost hers, though he’d assured her that he’d
graded it first and she’d done well. He’d smiled, and because she’d been so
infatuated with him, she’d accepted him at his word. As a means of making it up
to her, he’d invited her to have coffee with him. She’d practically fallen all
over herself in her eagerness to accept. Thinking about it now made her feel
ill.

Everything would have gone smoothly for him if she hadn’t blown
the whistle and announced their engagement before graduation. His plan was to be
long gone before she learned what he’d done and how he’d done it. From what she
understood, he would be living in Seattle for what remained of the summer, but
he would be leaving in the fall because he’d accepted a position at a
prestigious university elsewhere and been granted a full professorship.

The bitterness, anger and frustration made it impossible for
her to hold still, and so she walked, often late into the night, until she was
too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed and sleep.

This evening she stopped at the church. The door was unlocked,
an unexpected surprise. She wasn’t sure what had led her to this particular
church or why she felt drawn inside. What she sought, she suspected, was
peace.

Slipping into the last pew in the darkened sanctuary, she bowed
her head and closed her eyes. She hadn’t done a whole lot of praying in her
life, but she did now, silently pouring out her heart, grateful that the church
was deserted. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there in solitude. Perhaps she
even dozed. The next thing she knew, someone said her name.

“Maddie?” The voice held evident surprise.

Flustered, she glanced up, her heart pounding. Brent Holliday.
He was the last person she wanted to see. How amused he must be to find her in a
church.

Without waiting for a sarcastic comment, she grabbed her purse
and leaped to her feet. She was half out the door when he said, “Don’t go.”

She stopped midstride, her back to him. She said nothing,
didn’t turn around, but she didn’t start walking again, either. Not sure what
had prompted her to obey his command, she closed her eyes, willing this to be
over quickly. What John had done to her was humiliating enough.

“Church was the last place I expected to find you.” Although
the words cut, they lacked his usual biting sarcasm.

“I bet. Well, don’t worry, I won’t make attendance a habit.
Nice seeing you again, Brent,” she said, her tone giving the lie to the words,
and then stepped into the night, unwilling to linger. Unwilling to invite his
further disapproval.

“Maddie.”

She raced down the stairs, her feet bouncing against the
concrete steps in her rush to escape.

That he hurried after her, his footsteps echoing hers, was a
surprise of its own. Walking swiftly, she buried her hands in her pockets and
forged ahead, pretending she hadn’t heard him.

“Wait, Maddie. Please.”

It was the “please” that did it. She paused beside a
streetlight, exhaled sharply and lifted her chin. “What?” she demanded, giving
the impression she had places to go, people to see.

Brent was standing about four feet away. He didn’t say anything
for a long time, but when she shifted her weight from one foot to the next in a
silent hint of impatience, he finally spoke. “I owe you an apology.”

“Several, I’d say.” She wasn’t going to make this easy for him,
not that she was particularly angry with him. Any irritation with him paled next
to what she felt toward John Theda.

“All right, several,” he agreed. “I regret the things I said
during graduation rehearsal—and other times too,” he added, lumping his offenses
together in one fell swoop.

She blinked twice, remembering how his attitude and his words
had bitten into her ego and how she’d pretended otherwise. He had never made a
secret of his contempt for her.

“Don’t worry about it.” Her forgiveness came easily. It was
unlikely they would meet up again, and she wasn’t one to hold grudges. Then
again, maybe she was. She would like nothing better than to find a way to hurt
John.

Brent hesitated, and she wasn’t sure if he wanted to say more.
She was about to leave when he asked gently, “Are you okay?”

She bristled, embarrassed by being found praying in a church.
By Brent. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me. You aren’t exactly the first person I’d expect to
find in a church at night.” He sounded edgy himself, irritated, which was
exactly what she wanted. If she made him angry enough, maybe he would leave her
alone.

Still she didn’t look at him. Not directly, anyway, for fear he
would notice the shadows beneath her eyes or the weight she’d lost. Afraid he
would ask questions she didn’t want to answer.

The silence stretched tautly between them. Maddie was eager to
be on her way, yet reluctant to leave, which made no sense. But she felt there
was something more Brent longed to say and was holding back. Not that she’d
encouraged him.

“I…I’ve got to get home,” she blurted, although it was a small
lie. No one awaited her return. No one worried if she was home or not.

“Yeah, me too. Do you want a ride?”

“No, but thanks.” She stepped away from the light and then
hesitated, remembering he’d been a criminology major. It was only polite that
she inquire how life was treating him. “Everything going okay at the police
academy?”

“Great.”

She offered him a brief wobbly smile. “I’m pleased to hear it.
Good to see you again, Brent.” Surprisingly, she meant that.

“You too, Maddie.”

For some inexplicable reason, she thought she heard a hint of
sadness in his voice. Well, if he was suffering a few regrets, so was she, but
her regrets were bogged down with self-recriminations for allowing herself to be
used by someone who didn’t deserve or appreciate her love.

“Good night,” she added, meaning the words. Brent wasn’t so
bad, and she wished now that she’d made more of an effort to get to know him
when she’d had the chance. She’d gone no more than a few steps when he called
out to her once more.

Hands in her pockets, she turned around, poised in the middle
of the sidewalk.

“If you ever need someone or something, call me.”

“You?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Only a few
months earlier he’d mocked her. Now he claimed he wanted to help her.

He cocked a smile, one side of his mouth riding up with
amusement. “Yes, me. You’re not doing my ego any good, you know.”

She chuckled softly, and it felt good. The last time she’d had
reason to laugh had been too long ago to remember. She’d buried herself in
recrimination, doubts and regrets. It was a tight fit, leaving little room for
humor or frivolity.

By the time she’d walked back to her apartment, it was well
after midnight and she was exhausted. After a long hot shower, she climbed into
bed and slept the night through, something she hadn’t done in weeks.

She awoke refreshed and eager for a new day. It took her some
time to realize why she felt better. Brent Holliday. What had happened to cause
him to apologize she didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She was grateful to know she
had at least one friend in Seattle.

The idea didn’t come to her until the following afternoon.
While she didn’t know Brent Holliday well, she felt strongly that he’d meant
what he’d said. If she needed someone or something, all she had to do was give
him a call. She wanted to believe his offer of friendship was sincere, so
decided to test it.

She hadn’t told anyone what John had done. What good would it
do? she reasoned. No one was likely to believe her. No one would expect her to
be capable of such an achievement. What irked her the most was that she’d done
this to herself. She’d played a silly game, dressed and acted like a “bad girl,”
a brainless twit. An aptitude for numbers didn’t fit in with her carefully
constructed image.

Her mistake had been that, in assuming the role she had chosen,
she’d almost lost her true identity, forgotten who she really was. Well, no
more. She’d packed away her thigh-high leather boots, tamed her hair and
lengthened her skirts, then stared at the stranger in the mirror. The Maddie
who’d been so hungry for attention was forever gone. The one who grieved over
the loss of her emotional innocence had laid claim to her soul, and the real
Maddie Coolidge had stepped forward.

It’d taken her the better part of the summer to discover who
the real Maddie actually was, and she’d learned that she liked this person. The
woman without pretensions. The woman who had no need to impress others. The
woman willing to take a chance on being herself.

Brent couldn’t really have noticed the differences in her in
the dark, when she’d been dressed for an evening stroll. But he would. She would
make sure of it.

Phoning him, suggesting they meet for coffee, had seemed like a
simple plan. All she had to do was get his phone number from his parents—they
were in the book, though he wasn’t—and place the call. But even that first step
required courage.

When she finally managed to dredge up the fortitude, she
dialed, closed her eyes and waited. To her surprise and relief, Brent was the
one who answered.

“Hello,” he grumbled as if picking up the receiver had
inconvenienced him greatly. In her surprise she didn’t speak right away, and he
said hello again in a more pronounced tone of impatience.

“Brent?”

Silence, then, “Maddie.”

He’d recognized her voice. “I… Could you meet me for
coffee?”

“Sure. When? Where?” he responded with no hesitation.

She decided on the Java Joint, a coffeehouse not far from the
Queen Anne campus, and named a time that evening she felt would be convenient
for them both.

“Fine, I’ll see you then.”

His eagerness was a balm that helped ease the ache that had
held her heart prisoner all these weeks.

* * *

Brent had arrived ahead of her, and he waved when she
entered and glanced around. He’d chosen a booth in the back of the room, and she
was grateful for the limited privacy it afforded them.

The coffeehouse was a leftover from the early sixties, when
beatniks played bongos and recited poetry. Maddie resisted the urge to snap her
fingers and say words like “groovy” whenever she stopped by for a latte.

The walls were black, with brightly colored geometric designs
in red, orange, yellow and blue. The counter was decorated with polka dots of
different colors and sizes, and the room was filled with the pungent aroma of
coffee.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, scooting onto the wooden
bench across from him.

Brent stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Maddie?”

“Yes, it’s the new me.” She beamed at him. Her auburn hair was
tied at the base of her neck with a yellow ribbon. She wore loose-fitting jeans
and a sleeveless blouse. Cotton, white and plain, with an eyelet collar.

His mouth opened and then slowly closed, as if whatever he’d
wanted to say had gotten lost somewhere between his mind and his lips.

“I imagine you’re wondering why I suggested we meet,” she began
after the waiter, a college student, had taken their order.

He nodded. “I’ll admit to being curious. About that and…other
things.” But he appeared patient enough to wait until she explained matters to
him in her own time and in her own way.

“I don’t know if you heard or not, but I was dating John Theda
in the spring.” With an effort she managed to keep her voice even and reveal
none of her feelings. The waiter returned with their order, and she smiled her
thanks.

Brent waited until the waiter left before he responded, “I
heard you and Theda were an item, or something to that effect.”

“I thought you might have.” This was where it grew difficult.
If Brent didn’t believe her, she didn’t know what she would do. “We didn’t
exactly date,” she told him. “We always went to out-of-the-way places. His
biggest fear was that someone from the school would see us together.”

“I think you should know up front,” Brent said, stopping her.
“I’m not much of a John Theda fan.”

She laughed. “Neither am I.”

A heartbeat later he asked, his voice gentle with concern, “Are
you pregnant?”

“No!” she cried, angry that he would assume such a thing. After
a moment she realized it was a logical conclusion after finding her in a church,
clearly troubled. Suddenly his willingness to meet her held greater
significance. Even now she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. She
wouldn’t be here with him at all if she hadn’t been so desperate for a
friend.