Chapter Eight

THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN the happiest time in Ann’s life, but it was far from that. In spite of the fact that Phillip said he understood about Stella, Ann still found the situation highly embarrassing, and Eva’s silent disapproval made Ann equally uncomfortable at the Coulters’. She felt there was nowhere she and Phillip could relax.

Several times Ann approached Stella about having Phillip home, but Stella absolutely refused to discuss the matter.

“What do you have against Phillip?” Ann would cry. “You don’t even know him!”

“I’ll tell you what I have against him,” Stella would sneer. “He’s weak and spineless. Or maybe he’s not so much in love with you that he can’t live without you. Otherwise, why won’t he marry you now?” And she repeated the words so often that Ann herself began to doubt Phillip’s love.

“Good God!” Stella would cry. “If he hasn’t married you after five months, he never will. That’s a long time for people in love. You’re a naive child. Can’t you see that he’s using you?”

The word “using” troubled Ann, not because it was true, but because she recognized the extent of her own sexual desires—and they frightened her. Between her own frustration and Stella’s badgering, Ann found herself wondering if Stella might not be right. Was Phillip really intending to marry her? Why were they waiting? He did have a job, after all. And how could they go on this way without eventually ending up in bed? And Ann was not prepared for that without marriage. What if she became pregnant? She could almost hear Stella’s triumph.

One night when they were having dinner she almost asked him to set a date, but when she looked at him, she was suddenly terrified. He was so good looking. He could have any woman he wanted—who was Ann Pollock to demand anything? If she pressed him now, she would lose him.

Instead of speaking, Ann withdrew into herself. Phillip took her hand. “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing … nothing at all.”

“Ann, please talk to me. What is it?”

“It’s nothing, Phillip”

“Of course it is…. The problems at home—they’re becoming worse, aren’t they?”

Ann had a momentary desire to say, Yes, damn you, and it’s your fault! But she couldn’t say that. He had warned her from the beginning that there was no other choice but to wait.

Suddenly she could stand the tension no longer. She jumped up and ran from the restaurant.

Phillip was flabbergasted; Ann was always so composed. He realized that their situation was becoming impossible, and he was terrified that Ann had lost patience with him.

Throwing some money on the table, Phillip followed her out to the parking lot. Enfolding her in his arms, he said, “Don’t shut me out, Ann, please. You’re all I have.”

“But, Phillip, I don’t really have you,” Ann sobbed.

“Darling, how can you say that? I love you!”

“And I love you, Phillip—but I just don’t think I’m strong enough to go on this way.”

“I know. I’ve expected too much of you. There’s only one answer: we’re going to get married now. We’ll just have to live very simply at first.”

Married! It was the magic word for which Ann had prayed, but even as her heart leaped for joy she felt a pang of guilt: had she forced Phillip into this?

“Are you sure, Phillip?” She lifted her face and looked at him searchingly. “I’ll wait if you want to.”

“No, we’ve done enough of that. You bet I’m sure!”

And, in his eyes, what she saw was longing, and love.