SIX MONTHS LATER
What did you buy for a young man about to turn nineteen? Elizabeth stared at a display of action figures without seeing them. She’d wandered into the toy store out of nostalgia. It had been a few years since she’d been able to shop for Michael in one.
Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday when he’d been clamoring for the latest toys touted by his cartoon friends. And sometimes it seemed as if centuries had gone by.
Moving down the aisle, she paused in front of a shelf full of Legos. The bright, primary colors brought a surge of memories. The hours she’d spent putting those things together. She must have built enough houses to create a small town. And anything she hadn’t built, Donovan had. He’d been good at the more exotic things like cars and rocket ships. During the months after he got back from ‘Nam, Legos had been one of the first things he and Michael could really share.
He had made up for his absence. He’d been a good father. Loving, but not afraid to be firm.
“Daddy, look!” The shrill voice shook her out of her memories and Elizabeth moved aside just in time to avoid being run over by a little girl in pink overalls. The child skidded to a halt in front of a display of bright puzzles.
“Please, Daddy. Please could we get a puzzle?” The words held a wealth of longing.
“You’ve got lots of puzzles, Bethany.” Bethany’s father stopped next to his daughter and stared at the boxes. “I don’t know which ones you’ve got.”
“ I know.”
Elizabeth bit her lip to control a smile. The scorn in the little girl’s voice would have done justice to a duchess ten times her age.
Her father glanced at Elizabeth, sharing her amusement. He looked as though he was just a few years younger than her but, watching him and his little gir made her feel centuries older. Michael had been a teenager by the time she was this man’s age.
She moved away, leaving father and daughter to hash out the question of how many puzzles they should buy. He was standing firm on two, but Bethany was bargaining for a jillion. Elizabeth wouldn’t have laid bets on who would win.
She wandered down the aisle and turned a corner. Dolls. She stopped next to a display of baby dolls, her face softening. The toys she’d played with as a little girl had mostly disappeared and now some of them were actually collectibles which made her feel older than dirt. But baby dolls never changed. She reached out to touch the smooth, vinyl skin on a plump infant that promised to do nothing but be soft in a little girl’s arms.
Elizabeth didn’t have to close her eyes to picture a little girl cuddling the doll. She had Donovan’s hair, inky black and soft as silk, and maybe his eyes, too. Her father would teach her to ride a bicycle, but he’d also be willing to play dolls with her or baseball. She’d definitely be Daddy’s girl, but she would be close to her mother, too.
She blinked and the picture vanished. She pulled her hand away from the doll. It was foolish to dream about something that would never happen.
After six months she still envisioned Donovan as a father. She shrugged uneasily. There was nothing significant in that. They’d been married a long time. There had never been another man in her life. The little fantasy had nothing to do with the hollow feeling she sometimes had when she thought about Donovan.
She turned away from the dolls, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. It was only natural that she was feeling a bit nostalgic. Shopping for Michael’s gifts was something she and Donovan had always done together. Even in the past few years, when they did so little as a couple, that was one tradition that had survived. This was the first time since Donovan returned from the war that she’d had to shop for Michael’s gift alone.
Nostalgia was all this empty feeling was. It had nothing to do with regrets, because she didn’t regret leaving Donovan. She’d done the right thing. It was just that, sometimes, she felt a little hollow. She was free to do as she pleased, but there was no one to care that she did.
#
Donovan ducked out of sight behind a display of stuffed dinosaurs, feeling like a fool. He had to be nuts, hiding from his own wife behind a purple stegosaurus, but he wasn’t ready for her to see him yet. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready.
It felt like centuries since he’d seen her. He’d almost managed to forget the softness of her skin and the way her hair caught the light. In slim-fitting jeans and a bright blue sweatshirt, she looked young and vibrant and stunningly beautiful.
He’d been watching her ever since she entered the store; dogging her down the aisles, ducking out of sight to avoid being seen. He’d gotten some funny looks from a couple of kids but, so far, no one had called the cops. More likely, they’d call the men in white coats. He was acting like a demented teenager, not like a mature man of thirty-eight.
He edged farther behind the stegosaurus as Elizabeth wandered toward the front of the store. When had he stopped noticing how beautiful she was? How long had it been since he’d really looked at her?
She stopped next to a rack of children’s books. The harsh, fluorescent lighting gilded her hair. She looked so young—not that much different than when they’d first met. God, that seemed like so long ago. She glanced up and Donovan squatted down, turning his face away as if vitally interested in the toys displayed on the lower shelf.
“Are you playing hide-and-seek?” The voice was solemn and unusually deep considering its owner was under three feet tall.
Donovan’s startled eyes met those of the little boy who must have been standing right behind him. Serious brown eyes studied him. Donovan felt a flush slowly creep up from his neck. He cleared his throat, searching for the authority that was supposed to go with being an adult. Only he didn’t feel much like an adult at the moment.
“I ... ah … I’m trying to find a present for someone.”
“For who?” The child looked prepared to wait as long as it took to get his answer.
Donovan glanced over his shoulder. Elizabeth was still scanning the books. He turned back to his inquisitor. “For my son.”
Brown eyes studied .him, considering that answer. “How old is he?”
“He’s going to be nineteen.”
“I like these.” He pointed to a display of action figures on the shelf next to them.
“I … ah ...Michael probably does, too.”
“I don’t have the leader yet, but Mom says I might get it for my birthday.” He sighed, contemplating the endless wait ahead.
“I don’t think Michael has it, either. Maybe I’ll get him that.”
“They’ve got the boxes with the leader at the front ‘cuz he just came out.”
Donovan glanced over his shoulder to see Elizabeth leaving the store. “At the front. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Donovan was just in time to see Elizabeth wander down the mall. He waited a few seconds and then followed her, feeling like a second-rate James Bond. Did spies feel this stupid following someone?
She stopped to look in the window of a clothing store and he turned, staring intently at a display of copper cookware. This was ridiculous. He’d been married to the woman for eighteen years. They were still married if it came right down to it. He had no reason to be lurking behind her—no reason except the knot in his gut that threatened to climb into his throat and choke him.
Elizabeth felt him behind her an instant before his hand touched her shoulder. She forced herself to turn slowly, keeping her expression utterly calm.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
“Hello, Donovan.” She’d almost managed to forget his height and the width of his shoulders. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt tucked into a pair of brown corduroys. He looked fit and trim and amazingly handsome. His hair was still inky black, with just a touch of gray at the temples. His eyes were still that wonderful green-gold shade, impossible to read, impossible to ignore.
“How have you been?” It was a simple question. Why was it that she couldn’t find a simple answer? Did she tell him how hard it had been to make the break; how she’d cried herself-to sleep more than once? Or did she tell him about her job and how much she loved it? Did she mention the sense of pride she felt when she came home to an apartment that she paid for herself?
“I’m fine. You?”
“Fine. You look ... well.” What had he been going to say? Had he been going to tell her that she looked pretty? Did he still think she was pretty? She tugged at the bottom of her sweatshirt, unaware of the way the nervous gesture molded the fabric to her breasts.
“So do you.”
Silence stretched between them. Each of them avoided looking at the other, but neither of them could think about anything else. Around them the mall bustled with people but they could have been all alone for all the awareness they had of anyone else.
“ I--”
“Well—”
Each started to speak and then stopped abruptly. Their eyes met.
“You go ahead,” he offered.
“I was just going to ask if you were shopping for Michael’s birthday present.”
“What else would drag me to a mall?”
Elizabeth smiled, a quick expression gone immediately. “You designed this place. I don’t see how you can hate it so much.”
“Too many people in too small an area.”
“I suppose. I was shopping for Michael, too.”
“I know. I’ve been following you.”
Her eyes jerked back to his face in time to see him flush. “You’ve been following me?”
He shrugged. “Sounds dumb, I know. But I saw you in the toy store and I couldn’t quite get up the nerve to say anything, so I sort of followed you.”
“You were watching me?”
“Well, not exactly watching. Just sort of... following...” He trailed off and shrugged again. “I said it was dumb. You should have seen the funny looks some of the kids in there gave me. One little guy even gave me advice on what to get Michael.”
Elizabeth’s mouth twitched, picturing Donovan lurking around the toy store. She supposed she should be angry. At another time, maybe she would have been. But, somehow, at this moment, she just couldn’t find the anger.
“Why didn’t you just come up and say hello?”
“Well, it’s been quite a while. And we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.”
“I suppose.” Her smile faded, reminded of just how they’d parted. She stared past him at the people hurryin about their business. The silence stretched.
Donovan cleared his throat. “You know, since we’re both here and we’re both shopping for Michael, maybe we should talk about what we’re going to get him. That way we could avoid duplicating anything. We could have a cup of coffee.”
There wasn’t any real need to discuss what they were going to buy for Michael. She’d say no, of course. This encounter had been awkward enough already, and who knew how much worse it might get if they spent more time together. Donovan was part of her past, and she was quite content to keep him that way. There wasn’t any reason to renew any old ties. She’d break off this awkward little meeting politely but firmly and go on about her day. That was the smart thing to do.
“It would be awkward if we both ended up getting him the same thing.”
Five minutes later they were seated across a table from each other. Coffee steamed in front of them. The bustle of the mall was muted in the restaurant. It was too late for the lunch crowd and too early for the dinner crowd.
Elizabeth stared at her coffee and listened to the silence stretch. She’d been an idiot to agree to this. Donovan was undoubtedly regretting the impulse that had made him suggest it. The whole point of her leaving him was that they hadn’t any more to say to each other. So why was she sitting here, pretending there was something to talk about now?
“Michael tells me you’ve got a nice place.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “It’s small but it’s comfortable. I don’t really want a lot of room.”
“I know what you mean. With Michael in school most of the time, I rattle around in that house. I’ve been half thinking of selling it.”
“You can’t.” Donovan’s head jerked up at her vehement denial, and she tried to soften the words. “I mean, isn’t the real estate market soft or hard or something? It probably wouldn’t be a good time to sell.” She stared at the table.
“I wouldn’t do anything drastic without talking to you. It’s your house, too.”
It had been their dream house—one of the first projects Donovan designed. Once they’d had the money to buy the lot, they’d still had to put a lot of their own labor into the place in order to afford to build the house itself. A lot of sweat and a few tears were built into that house. Funny how she didn’t want to live there, but it still hurt to think of it being sold.
“I wish you’d let me give you at least some of the value of it. I feel guilty about living in the place.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need the money right now. If you... if you sell it, then we can talk about it.”
Silence hung over the table again, a third party to the conversation. Again, it was Donovan who broke it.
“So, Michael tells me that you really like your job.”
“I do. I’m working at Mason’s. They needed an interior decorator, and they didn’t insist that I have a certificate or a degree. It’s a great place to work.”
Donovan looked away. It hurt to hear her sound so happy. It hurt to realize how long it had been since he’d seen her face light up. How long had she been unhappy, and why hadn’t he seen it?
“You always did have a flair for decorating. It’s great that you found something you liked.”
“I was lucky.” If the conversation got any more stilted, it was going to require medical attention just to revive it. She took a swallow of coffee and searched for something to say. Funny how they were both being so careful not to talk about what was really on their minds. They’d talked around her leaving, but neither of them had said anything definite. They avoided words like separation and divorce.
She looked out the window that opened into the mall in time to see a young couple walk by, arm in arm and obviously very much in love.
“That guy looks just like Brad Mossman.”
Elizabeth glanced across the table to see Donovan’s eyes following the same couple. “He doesn’t look anything like Brad.”
“Sure he does. Same I’m-adorable chin, same you’re-lucky-to-be-with-me-baby walk.”
She laughed, the naturalness of it surprising. “You never did like Brad. Looking back on it, I think you did your best to intimidate the poor guy every chance you got.”
“Hell, yes. That guy had a personality that would make the Pope want to punch him in the lip.”
“Careful. You’re talking about my first real boyfriend. I wore his ring for two whole weeks.”
“Until you got in a fight with him and I gave you a ride home.”
“On the back of that scruffy motorcycle. All the girls thought you looked really sexy riding that thing, and they all wanted to know if you’d tried anything.”
“On the back of a moving motorcycle? I think that would have discouraged even Casanova. I wanted to, though. You looked so sexy in those tight, little hip-huggers and that green shirt. I didn’t dare get off the bike when I got to your house.”
Elizabeth flushed at the memory. She could remember that short ride as if it were yesterday. The wind streaming by them, Donovan’s hard body in front of her. She’d felt so safe.
“So what did you tell all your girlfriends when they wanted to know if I’d made a pass?”
“I told them you’d been a perfect gentleman, of course.”
“Liar.”
Her head jerked up. He took a swallow of his coffee, his eyes on hers over the rim of the cup. Mischief danced in his gaze.
“What do you mean? I’m not a liar.”
“Yes, you are. Carol told me the truth years ago. You told all the girls that I kissed you thoroughly when I took you home. As I recall you went into fairly vivid detail. I think I put my hand—”
“All right. All right.” Elizabeth waved her hand in surrender. Her face felt as if it were on fire. “Remind me to murder Carol next time I see her. Every girl in town had the hots for you, whether they’d admit it or not. You could hardly expect me to go back to school after leaving Danny’s with the infamous Donovan Sinclair and tell them you really had been a gentleman.”
“Every girl in town?” He laughed. “I think you’re exaggerating my appeal.”
“Every girl,” Elizabeth said firmly. “You looked so dangerous, so adult. And of course, any parent would have had apoplexy if their daughter went out with you. That was icing on the cake.”
“I had no idea I was so popular. No one ever spoke to me.”
“Of course no one spoke to you. You were too sexy to talk to. Besides, you had such an aura of mystery and danger, we were all too scared.”
“You weren’t too scared. I couldn’t believe you’d actually come to the garage to see me.”
“I wanted to thank you for giving me a ride home.”
“Four times in one week?”
“I wanted to be sure you knew how much I appreciated the ride.”
“Sure you did. You were so beautiful. You know, the first time I kissed you, I expected you to dissolve because I knew it had to be a dream. You couldn’t really be there in my arms.”
Elizabeth couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. She felt flushed all over, remembering the feel of him against her, remembering the way his slightest touch had made her skin heat.
They stared at each other, a wealth of memories between them, the present almost forgotten. They’d shared so much. Their surroundings faded away. For a moment there was only the two of them, all alone.
“Beth, I—”
She jerked her eyes away and made a point of looking at her watch. “Good heavens, look at the time. I’d better get going.”
Donovan stared at her and, for a moment, she was afraid he was going to insist on finishing whatever he’d started to say. She didn’t want him to finish. She didn’t want to hear it. She’d made her decisions and she didn’t regret them. She didn’t.
She fumbled with her purse, aware of him watching every move she made. After a long moment, he slid out of his seat and stood next to the table, waiting for her.
She stood up, conscious of his size, aware of the way her body wanted to lean into his. Her skin tingled with his nearness. All those memories had served to remind her of so many things she wanted to forget—was afraid to remember.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That’s really not necessary. I’m not parked all that far away.”
“I’d feel better if I saw you to your car.”
She glanced at the stubborn set of his jaw and shrugged. It wasn’t worth arguing over. In a few minutes, she’d be gone. Neither of them spoke as they left the mall and stepped into the softly lit parking lot. A light rain was falling, creating a feeling of intimacy, as if it were just the two of them in the whole world.
She unlocked her car and turned to him. Silhouetted in the lamplight, he looked bigger than ever—safe and warm and secure. But the uneven rhythm of her pulse had nothing to do with safety.
“It was nice to see you.” God, she talked as if he were a casual acquaintance. How did you say goodbye to someone who’d once been your entire life?
“Maybe we could have dinner some night. There’s a new steak house on the north end of Main.”
Elizabeth wanted to say yes. She wanted to say it so badly it hurt. The very intensity of the feeling frightened her. She stared up at him, blinking against the sudden burning in her eyes.
“I... don’t think that would be such a good idea.” Could he hear how hard it was to say the words?
The light was behind him, making it impossible to read his expression. His shoulders seemed a little stiff, as if held too tight. The silence stretched, building until Elizabeth couldn’t stand another moment. It hurt too much.
“Goodbye, Donovan.” She slid into the car, shutting the door on the rain, shutting him outside. There were tears on her face. It was only the rain. That’s all it was.
Donovan watched as she backed out of the parking place and drove down the aisle, tires hissing on the wet pavement. He didn’t move until her taillights turned out of the parking lot and disappeared in the traffic.
Rain soaked his hair, seeping through his shirt. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the dampness as he turned toward his own car.
Was it always going to hurt this much to say goodbye?