Double Jeopardy (25 page)

There was acceptance in her tone, and forgiveness for the troubled girl she’d been. “The miscarriage and then the divorce pushed me over a narrow ledge I’d been walking for years. That was my first real break. I’ve had two more since then. That first one was the worst, though, because I didn’t know what to expect.” She sounded almost placid. Ben waited for the anger he knew she must feel, the anger he knew he deserved.

“I hated you for a long time, Ben. I blamed you for everything, but I finally found a good doctor who wouldn’t give up on me. With his help I admitted that I had an illness, and then I began taking responsibility for my actions.” She turned and gave him a wry grin. “That didn’t happen for years, though. My mom and dad didn’t make it easy for me. They never admitted there was anything wrong with me. They always believed my mental illness was something you did to me. It was easier just to blame you for everything, and for a long time I bought into that.”

“And now?” Talking with her was getting easier. He was even beginning to relax a bit. Her openness, her honesty, pleasantly surprised him.

“Oh, now I see that what happened at that time was inevitable. I’m still sorry about our baby, bat what kind of mother could I have been? Lordie, it’s taken me years just to get on a drug regimen that works for me. When I think of trying to raise a kid in the midst of that, I really know that things happen for the best.”

“But you never went back to nursing. I’ve always felt bad about that. You were such a great nurse.”

She shrugged. “It was my own choice. I always knew I didn’t do well with shift work. Stress and lack of sleep really affect my condition, so I decided to work at the bakery.” There was quiet pride in her voice when she added, “It’s mine now, you know. Natalie and her husband moved to Seattle and I bought them out. I’m planning to turn it into a coffee shop.” She was clearly excited about it. “I’ve leased the space next door. I’ll knock the wall down and put in tables and serve soup and sandwiches.”

“That’s a great idea.” He was trying to match this quiet, determined woman to the image he’d had in his mind of his disturbed and resentful child wife. It wasn’t easy. All his preconceived notions, all the negative things he’d heard via the hospital grapevine, were proving false.

“You never remarried, Vera.”

“Nope. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have someone in my life.” She smiled at him. “Dean’s a lawyer. We’ve been a couple for four years now. Neither of us sees marriage as something we want to do just yet, but eventually we will. And not marrying has nothing to do with what happened between us, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She gave him a curious glance.

“
How about you, Ben? I don’t keep up with the people I used to know at the hospital anymore. Last I heard you were a carefree bachelor with a beach front house that was the site of great parties.”

He grimaced and shook his head. “The parties are over, although I’m still single.” He explained about moving into a Gastown condo. “I’ve got a dog,” he added, thinking to himself how pathetic that sounded, as if he’d turned into the sort of man who poured all his affections out only on an animal.

They chatted for another half hour, and then Vera looked at her watch and got to her feet. “I have to get back. Lisa’s good, but she hasn’t been working for me long enough to take over completely.” She held out a hand, and Ben held it clasped in his for a long moment.

“I’m glad you came, Ben. You threw me for a loop at first but it’s past time we talked.”

There was one last thing he needed to ask. “Your uncle who’s on the hospital board, Dr. Miller. He’s always made it pretty clear that he blames me for ruining your life.” He hesitated, wanting to ask if she felt that way, too.

She answered before he could go on. “You probably know Uncle Rod hates you with a passion,” she said matter-of-factly. “He needs to blame somebody for what happened to me, and I guess you’re available. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he won’t listen. You probably don’t remember my telling you, but he sort of adopted me after he and his wife lost their only daughter. He was really proud when I graduated from nursing school. After Cindy died he became a workaholic. Eventually Auntie Hilda left him for another man. Uncle Rod never got over it. He moved out here from Toronto about the time we broke up, and when I had my breakdown, it was one more thing to add to his injustice list. It’s always easier to blame somebody else than to accept responsibility yourself.” She smiled at him. “I should know. I did it myself for a pile of years.”

“But not now.” It was almost impossible to believe.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Time comes when you have to grow up. It took me a while, but I finally got on with my life.” She touched his arm. “Bye, Ben. This has been good for both of us. I’m glad you came.”

He watched her ample figure hurry off down the street, and he sat back down on the bench, shocked at the discrepancy between what he’d thought to be true and what actually was. He’d always envisioned Vera as the troubled young bride he’d married and deserted, and the memory had never failed to bring up pangs of guilt and self-loathing.

The truth was, Vera had gone on with her life, in spite of an illness that was difficult and unpredictable. She’d grown into a mature and honest woman, with a job she obviously enjoyed and a life that included someone she loved. He didn’t need to feel guilty about her. He hadn’t wrecked her life, as he’d always felt he had.

How arrogant of him to think he had that power over her. His face burned, and he knew it wasn’t from the sun; he was embarrassed at how stupid and self centered he’d been.

And if he was being honest, he also had to face the fact that Vera had formed a long lasting relationship with someone she clearly loved, while he’d used their failed marriage as an excuse to build a wall between himself and anything that looked the least bit like commitment.

He’d stubbornly kept it in place, even though it had started to wobble when he met Sera.

The desolate emptiness that had plagued him ever since her phone call came back now, intensified because of what he’d learned about himself this afternoon.

The question was, what was he going to do with that knowledge? Could he win Sera back? He began plotting ways and means, but what troubled him the most was that part of what she’d said was irrefutable.

Sera was committed to her career, and so was he. Her work would now keep her in California, while his was based in Vancouver. The other issues, the ones with Gemma and Aldo Cardano, could somehow be resolved, but figuring out a solution to the geographical problem seemed impossible. He mulled his predicament over, sitting slumped on the bench in the sunshine, and all of a sudden he realized what he was doing.

For the first time since his marriage to Vera, he was thinking commitment. He was plotting ways in which he and Sera could be together, not for just a month or two, not even for a year. He was thinking always, and the realization both stunned and thrilled him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

By Saturday evening, Sera heartily wished she’d stayed in California instead of coming home. Her family was making her crazy. Her father was at his very worst, bombastic and unwilling to listen to anything except his own version of what had gone on between Gemma and Ben.

Each time he retold the story of finding Gemma sedated and hysterical in Ben’s office, he became more agitated. He tried to pry out of Sera the details of her relationship with Ben, and when she wouldn’t tell him, he hollered at her about loyalty and family pride and responsibility to her sister.

Maria was obviously angry with Aldo, slamming dishes on the table, clucking in disapproval at his ranting, but she didn’t come out and really say exactly what she felt or believed.

Gemma, on the other hand, seemed uncharacteristically subdued. Sera had been certain that as soon as she saw her sister, she’d know beyond a doubt whether Gemma was lying about Ben. And she had known; Sera was now convinced that Gemma believed what she’d said about the poetry.

How could that be? There was no way her sister could deceive her; Sera could tell when Gemma was lying, and right now she wasn’t.

As soon as they got home from the airport, Gemma had dumped out the poems on the bed in their old bedroom. Sera had read them, dreading this moment, terrified that she’d find some word or phrase that would prove to her Ben had written them.

They were touching in their simple message of unrequited love, but she detected absolutely nothing of the Ben she knew in them. Sera told first Gemma and then her parents that she was sure Ben hadn’t written them, which brought on tears from Gemma and yet another tirade from Aldo. How could Sera be loyal to and protect someone who’d hurt her own sister?

Sera was exhausted, confused and horribly unhappy. The same frantic sense of loss she’d experienced ever since she’d broken off with Ben two days before made her chest ache and her stomach nauseous.

She knew in her heart that cutting off the relationship was the only thing she could have done. Because aside from what Gemma thought had happened, aside from her father’s outrage, something else troubled her: the knowledge that whatever the and Ben had shared together hadn’t meant any more to him than any other of his casual affairs. And it had to her.

She’d fallen in love with Ben Halsey, in spite of her resolutions not to. And regardless of his attentiveness, his eagerness to see her, his obvious desire to be with her, the time would come, sooner or maybe later, but inevitably, when he’d want to move on to his next conquest. And where would that leave her?

So the solution had been clear: get out before she got in any deeper. She’d called him Thursday and said the things that had to be said, and it had ripped her apart. She’d hung up the phone and wrapped her arms around herself, because the sobs she couldn’t control felt as though they were ripping her apart. She’d cried most of the night. The next morning the makeup man on the set had kindly done what he could to disguise her swollen eyes and puffy face, and somehow she’d gotten through the day’s work.

Since then, the pain had subsided to a dull ache, but being in Vancouver was agony. Knowing Ben was only a fifteen-minute drive away was a temptation she could hardly resist, and when the telephone rang at dinnertime some sixth sense warned her it was him.

Her mother went into the kitchen to answer the call, and without a word beckoned to Sera. Maria obviously realized who it was, but she came back into the dining room and sat down without a word.

As Sera picked up the phone in the kitchen, she heard Maria begin a loud, long, involved story about a cousin who’d had twins, and she could tell her mother was covering for her, monopolizing the family’s attention so Sera could talk without being overheard.

“Sera? It’s me, please don’t hang up.” His familiar voice stabbed at her heart. She turned away from the doorway so her family couldn’t see her face, and she listened.

“Sera, I really want to see you. Please say that you’ll meet me, speak to me.”

She said no, that wasn’t possible; no, she couldn’t see him; no, she wouldn’t change her mind. “Please don’t call here again,” she told him with as much dignity as she could muster. Then she said goodbye and knew she was going to be sick. She escaped to the bathroom, where she ran the water hard as dry sobs racked her.

The dreadful evening dragged on and on. Her uncle Victor arrived. He’d heard that Aldo had been called away from the construction site to rescue Gemma, that someone had had to drive her car home, and he wanted to know what it was all about. From the horse’s mouth, he demanded.

Aldo launched into the story once more. There had never been any secrets among the Cardano relatives, and Sera knew that when the family gathered tomorrow after church at her aunt Teresa’s, the whole thing would be brought up and discussed and argued about all over again, and she didn’t think she could bear it.

“I’m going to bed.” Hastily, she wished everyone a goodnight, and tried to stop herself from racing up the stairs.

A touch on her back made her aware that Gemma was right behind her. They were sharing their old bedroom, sleeping side by side in the twin beds they’d had while they were growing up. Wanting desperately to be alone tonight, Sera felt trapped.

Gemma indicated to Sera that she should use the bathroom first, and when Gemma came out a short while later, Sera was curled up under the bedclothes with her lamp off and her face turned away, pretending sleep. Sadness had given way to a furious anger at her sister. She’d had it up to her eyeballs with Gemma and her mischief, Sera fumed.

Whether Gemma had intended to cause so much trouble this time, Sera didn’t know. Whatever her intentions, though, the results were horrifically painful.

But Gemma came and sat on Sera’s bed and switched her light back on, pad and pen in hand. She touched Sera’s shoulder, insisting she look at her message.