Native Affairs (39 page)

“A complete set of the
Encyclopaedia Britannica
, I trust?” Tracy said brightly.
 

“Nothing so educational.”
 

“Goody.”

Marisa tore off the last of the silver paper impatiently and gasped with delight.

“Indigo Sky!” she exclaimed, unscrewing the crystal stopper of a tiny bottle of her favorite perfume.

“It’s only toilet water, a minuscule amount at that. It’s all I could afford. But I know how much you like it.”

“How thoughtful,” Marisa murmured, touched.

“Now get out of here and go home to that wonderful man,” Tracy said, rising.

“I should go out to the party and mix a little.”

“Oh, forget about that. I’ll make your excuses and mix enough for both of us. Get going.”

Marisa took her coat from the hook behind her door and followed Tracy’s advice.

* * *

As soon as Marisa pulled into her driveway she knew that something was up. All the lights were on in the house and there was a strange car parked in the slush by the curb. When she got out cautiously she saw Jack appear in the front window, then come to the door.

“What are you doing in here?” Marisa demanded.

“That ancient lock you’ve got on your door wouldn’t keep out a clever four-year-old,” he answered briskly, stepping aside to admit her to her own house. He was wearing tailored dark slacks and a cream wool pullover that made his dark eyes and hair vivid in the softly lit room.

Marisa stopped and stared in surprise. A completely decorated tree stood next to the fireplace, where a cheerful fire was burning. The coffee table was set with two of her mother’s crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne on ice, and the enticing smell of a cooking roast drifted in from the direction of the kitchen.

“Did you do all this?” she asked in wonderment.

“Nobody else.”

“That fireplace doesn’t work,” she said, walking up to it and peering closely at the flames.

“It does now. The flue was stuck. I fixed it.”

“And where did you get that tree?”

“Finley’s Department Store. Christmas Eve special, fully decorated, half price.”

“I see. And you’ve learned to cook, too?”

“Speedy Gourmet on Tenth Street. You can buy anything you want already prepared, all you have to do is heat it up.”

“Amazing. You must have gone through town like a tornado. And the wine? Let me guess. Lake Country Liquors.”

“Right the first time.”

Marisa dropped her briefcase and purse on a chair. “What is all this in aid of, Jack? I mean, it’s very nice and everything...”

“It’s Christmas, Marisa,” he said quietly. “Can’t you relax a little and give me a break?”

“What do you want?” she said flatly.

“Another chance,” he said simply. “I love you. I’m sorry for what I did and I want another chance.”

Marisa sat in her grandfather’s old easy chair near the fire. “We didn’t have a little spat, Jack. You took someone else’s word over mine on an important issue, and when I begged you to listen to me you simply wouldn’t do it. You insulted me and...”

“Please don’t remind me of my asinine behavior,” he interrupted forlornly.

“What I’m saying is...”
 

“I know what you’re saying. You think it wasn’t an isolated incident and things like that will keep happening again and again.”

“Will you kindly stop interrupting me?”

He sat across from her on the sofa and folded his arms, his expression bleak.

“You really hurt me, Jack.”

He turned his head, looking away from her.

“I know,” he said, very quietly.

“What made you change your mind finally and go to see Randall Block?”

He sighed. “After you left Florida I had a chance to calm down and think things over, and I just couldn’t believe that you had resorted to bribery.”

“Gee, it seems to me that I tried to tell you the same thing,” Marisa said lightly. “More than once.”

“Spare me the sarcasm, Marisa, this is hard enough as it is,” Jack said wearily.

“Go on,” she said.

“So I tracked Block back to Washington and had a discussion with him.”

“I see. Has he been discharged from the hospital yet?” Marisa asked pointedly.

“I didn’t harm him. I wanted him to be in perfect health to testify about his actions.”

“So how did you threaten him?”

“What does it matter? I got him to tell the truth and that’s what counts.”

“You should have known I would never do such a thing. If you really loved me you wouldn’t have credited that stupid story for a minute,” Marisa responded, the old anger and hurt surging inside her again.

The both looked up as the sound of singing outside became audible and then came gradually closer, reaching a crescendo just outside the front door.

“Carolers,” Marisa said. “I have some cookies in the kitchen.”

She went to get the tray and came back into the living room, opening the door and distributing the treats to the children on the porch. Jack watched as she chatted with them and they rewarded her with a shaky version of “Silent Night.”

“You seem to know all of them,” he commented, as she closed the door behind the departing group.

“It’s a small town. I went to grade school with some of their parents.”

“You must think about having children of your own,” he said.

“Sometimes.”

“Want to get started on it tonight?” he asked.

Marisa resumed her seat and glared at him.

“Okay, bad joke. Where were we?”

“I believe I was saying that if you really loved me you would never have listened to Block’s lies in the first place.”

“I was hoping you’d skip over that part.”

“I think I deserve an explanation,” Marisa persisted, her tone as firm as her gaze.

“It’s complicated.”

“Oh, it must be.”

He strode over to the fireplace and leaned on the mantel. “I’ve always found it difficult to trust ‘the suits’. You know, people like you, establishment types.”

“Thank you.”
 

“You know what I mean. You come from this tintype town, you have education and background on your side, you were representing the government in this case, you came straight from the places where I had never fit in my whole life.”

“Next we’ll be tracing my bloodlines back to good Queen Bess,” Marisa observed to the air.

He closed his eyes. “I guess I found it difficult to accept that a sophisticated woman like you would want me. It was easier to think that you were using me.”

“You mean that despite your success you feel inside like you’re still back on the reservation.”

His eyes opened and met hers.

“Yes,” he said flatly.

“I’ve already gathered that much, Jack. You can’t use that as an excuse for treating me so badly.”

“Marisa, when it seemed you had manipulated me it just played right into a whole lifetime of doubt and suspicion. I didn’t analyze it then, I was too furious, but after I drove you away I had time to think about all of it and came to some tough conclusions.”

Marisa was silent.

“All right, so I’ve never been in love before and I don’t know how to act!” he said heatedly.

“What do you mean, you’ve never been in love before?” Marisa demanded.

“Just what I said. It’s not a difficult concept.” He sat next to her on the sofa and she inched backward.

“Will you stop doing that?” he said in exasperation.

“What?”

“Every time I come near you a silent alarm goes off and you put distance between us.”

“I’m trying to think clearly.”

“And you can’t think clearly when I touch you?”

“Right.”
 

“Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“It tells me that you’re trying to confuse me!” she said, almost in tears, rising and going to the window.

He followed, standing just behind her and looking out at the silently falling snow.

“Nobody will ever love you as much as I do,” he said softly, touching her shoulder.

“I know that,” she whispered.

“Nobody will ever be as good for you as I am,” he added.

She nodded.

“Then why not give me another chance?” he said.

She turned blindly into his arms.

“You hurt me so badly,” she sobbed.

“I know, and I’m so sorry. I’ll try to be better in the future.” He held her tightly, his lips moving in her hair.

“I thought you would never come around. I thought I had lost you forever,” she went on.

“I felt like a prize jerk once I got the truth out of Block. I came here as quickly as I could,” he murmured.

“Just hold me. I missed you so.”

They stood together for a long moment, and then he led her by the hand back to the sofa.

“I have something for you,” he said, sitting next to her again, closer this time.

“Something else?” she said.

He withdrew a small square box from his pants pocket and placed it in her hand.

Marisa looked up at him.

“Open it.”

Marisa sprung the catch. An emerald cut diamond set in gleaming white gold sparkled against a bed of deep blue velvet.

“Where did you get this?” she gasped.

“Faber’s Jewelers, corner of Main and Grand.”

“Not from Mr. Faber!”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. Old guy about seventy, on the short side, thinning white hair, eastern European accent?”

“You didn’t tell him it was for me,” Marisa groaned.

“Sure, why not?”

“Mr. Faber was my grandfather’s poker buddy, not to mention that they grew up together, practically slept in the same bassinet. He’s the worst gossip in the town, in the world. Everybody will know by tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Then you’ll have to marry me.”

“Jack...”

“Yes?”

“I’ll marry you.”

He pulled her into his arms almost roughly, knocking the ring box to the floor.

“I have to ask you a question,” he said in her ear.

“What?”

“Have you got any money?”

She drew back to look at him.

“I exhausted my credit card limit buying that ring,” he said, laughing helplessly.

“I have twenty-three dollars in my purse,” she said.

“That will have to last until day after tomorrow.”

The scent of burning food wafted down the hall.

“There goes dinner,” Jack said.

“I have some tuna in the pantry.” She disentangled herself from his arms and stood, straightening her clothes. “Let me go turn off the oven and I’ll see if I can put together a casserole...”
 

“Turn off the oven and then come to the bedroom,” he said quietly. “Where is it?”

“Right at the end of the hall,” Marisa said. She went to the kitchen and fumbled with the knob on the stove, her fingers trembling. Then she made a feeble pass at straightening her hair as she followed Jack into the bedroom.

He was waiting and handed her a glass of champagne.

“To us,” he said, toasting her.

“To us,” she repeated.

They touched glasses and drank. Then he put his down and took her glass from her hand.

“Now come here,” he said.

She was only too happy to obey.

Epilogue

“So now I have to start planning a baby shower?” Tracy said. “I haven’t recovered from the wedding yet.”

“It’s not definite,” Marisa replied, pouring coffee into Tracy’s cup. “I haven’t seen a doctor.”

They were sitting in Marisa’s kitchen on a Saturday morning in late March, with the first spring thaw melting the icicles on the roofline outside the window.
 

“Didn’t you take one of those home tests?”
 

“Yes, but they’re not always accurate.”
 

“Come on. Was it positive?”
 

Marisa grinned.

“You didn’t have to say it,” Tracy said, smiling conspiratorially. “You’ve got the glow.”

“I’ve got the nausea, I can tell you that. I can’t contemplate food until about three in the afternoon.”
 

“You must be so excited.”

“I think I’m just in a daze. If anyone had told me when I left Florida that three months later I would be married to Jack, and pregnant, I would have laughed. Derisively.”

“Have you told Jack?”

Marisa shook her head. “I just found out this morning, and I didn’t want to tell him over the phone.”