Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger (46 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Westerns, #test

BOOK: Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger
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Page 133
The neighborhood children began to pour out of their houses, shrieks of delight ringing out loud and clear in the cold afternoon air. Chandra watched them yelling and shuffling around in the snow, her eyes dull and lifeless. How she yearned for the days of childhood once again. Carefree days that knew very little unhappiness. Days of looking at her parents and wondering how they could always put a damper on things by worrying about what
might
happen. Days of Uncle John ruffling her crown of shining blond curls, saying, ''Don't grow up too fast, Chadee. Enjoy your childhood. These are the best years of your life, little oneno problems, no worries. Someday you'll be grown with more worries than you'll need."
Well, Uncle John, that day's here. I'm all grown up with a problem too big for me to handle
.
The first tear slid out of her eye and dropped on the window pane along with the falling snow. She had not shed one tear since she had walked into her parents' house last Friday trying to keep a straight face. Her mother had looked up in surpriseher hands suspended in midair as she unpacked the large suitcase lying before her. "Chandra, darling! Why, I didn't expect you until Monday." Margo Loring paused, her eyes taking in her daughter's tear-smudged face. Without another word she had walked over and enfolded Chandra in her arms, tenderly stroking her hair. "It's all right, darling. Whatever is wrong, we'll work on it together." God in his infinite love gave some mothers the ability to know when to talk and when to just listen, and Chandra was one of the fortunate ones who possessed such a treasure. She had gone into her mother's arms, her body trembling, and had totally fallen apart. She couldn't speak past the pain of a tight, restricting knot in her throat. Her mother had helped her up the stairs into her old bedroom and sat her quietly down on the bed. She stayed with her, talking soothingly about her trip to Europe, the new flower bed she was planning in the spring, a new dress pattern she had seen in the store . . . anything to help her daughter still the cold trembling of her body. Finally, in exhaustion, Chandra drifted off into blessed oblivion, a warm, dark world where the pain wasn't so acute. She thought drowsily
 
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that she should pull herself together long enough to halfway explain to her mother what had happened. But she knew her mother would be there if and when she could bring herself to talk about it. For now, the world was too painful to exist in. For the next three days she had stayed in her room lying mutely on the bed, trying to piece her jumbled thoughts back together. Her mother had checked in on her periodically, bringing her meals to her on a tray. Chandra had managed to review sketchy details of her past week and a half, but it was still far too agonizing to talk about.
The tears were streaming down her face as the dam cracked and a slow healing process finally began. For thirty minutes Chandra sobbed away all the tension, frustration, and heartachethe bitterness and pain literally pouring out of her. At last, when there were simply no more tears left, she stood up, wiped her nose, went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, then walked calmly down the stairs to join her mother. It was overshe had to go on living.
''Well," her mother said, turning off the small, electric hand mixer she was using. "Welcome back, darling."
"Thanks, Mom, I'm going to be okay now." She crossed the kitchen and sat down at the Early American kitchen table.
"Would you like a cup of hot tea?" Margo asked, resuming her work with the mixer, trying to ignore the swollen eyes and hiccupping sobs that escaped occasionally from her daughter.
"No, I'm not thirsty."
"You don't have to be thirsty to enjoy a cup of tea." Margo reached under the cabinet and extracted two round cake pans. She began to rub shortening in them, then dusted each with a fine coating of flour. "It would make you feel better," she encouraged lightly.
"It doesn't matter, Mom. If you want a cup, I'll drink one with you." Chandra blew her nose again, her fingers still trembling from the violent emotions she had just experienced.
"Good. As soon as I get this in the oven, I'll make us one." She poured the thick, creamy chocolate batter into the pans.
 
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''I see you're making Dad's favorite cake again. How many of those things do you make a week?" Chandra asked, smiling weakly.
"You know your dad. He feels very deprived if I don't make him at least two a week." The pans slid into the hot oven and Margo set the timer for twenty-five minutes. Picking up the teakettle, she filled it with water and set it back on the burner
Chandra smiled tenderly as she watched her mother bustling happily around the kitchen. Margo and Daniel Loring had been married twenty-nine years last June, and she never remembered a single quarrel between them. Her mother had laughed when she had mentioned that fact to her on their last wedding anniversary. Margo had assured her there had been
many
quarrels in their marriage, but nothing that they hadn't been able to work out with a lot of patience and love.
Oh, Mom,
she thought sadly as she watched her mother work,
not all things can be worked out, no matter how bad a person wants them to
.
"It's really getting nasty out there. I hope your dad makes it home with no trouble," Margo worried, absently turning on the burner under the teakettle. "By the way, Darrell called. He said to tell you hi. Somehow he was under the impression you were staying with one of your girlfriends," she added thoughtfully, sitting down opposite Chandra at the table.
"I know. I left a message at his office telling him that's where I would be," Chandra replied softly.
Margo's motherly gaze caught. Chandra's blank, downcast eyes. Reaching over, she took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Do you feel like talking about it yet?" she asked gently. "You know I don't want to interfere in any way, but I must admit I'm totally baffled as to why you would have spent a week and a half with a man named Garrett when you were engaged to be married to a man named Phillip."
Just the mention of Garrett's name sent sharp pains riveting through her heart. He had not called or tried to contact her in any way since she had left. She had known he probably wouldn't, but still her heart had jumped every time the phone had rung.
 
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Squeezing her Mother's hand back Chandra answered affectionately, ''I guess it's about time you heard the whole story."
Over the next hour Chandra recited the bizarre, almost unbelievable story to her mother. Each time a stray tear welled up in her eyes she wiped it away angrily, then continued on with her story in a small, determined voiceignoring the looks of disbelief, then outright astonishment, on her mother's face. Margo let her daughter talk, never once stopping her to ask the questions that kept popping up in her mind with every new segment Chandra entered into. Chandra was as honest as she could be with her mother without telling her just how far her and Garrett's relationship had really gone. She wasn't ready to talk about that yet, and she wanted to spare her mother the agony of knowing how deeply she was involved with this strange, wonderful man.
When her story was finished they both sat quietly in shared companionship, drinking their cups of cooling tea.
"I don't know what to say." Her mother finally broke the silence.
"There's nothing to say, Mom. Garrett doesn't want marriage. He had a very unhappy childhood with his parents and he thinks all marriages are doomed for failure."
"That's really sad. He sounds like a man who's afraid to love." Margo got up slowly and checked the progress of the cake in the oven.
"He's not afraid to love," Chandra whispered almost inaudibly, thinking of the last few days they had spent together. Garrett had told her over and over again that he loved her, but he couldn't offer her marriage. "He's just afraid to trust."
"I've known men like that," Margo agreed, replacing the hot pad on the kitchen counter. "They live their lives drawn into themselves, missing out on so much of life's pleasures because they're afraid of the pain that it might bring them."
"He's had a lot of pain and very little happiness in his life. I wish he would allow me to ease that pain," Chandra sighed wistfully, adding another teaspoon of sugar to her tea.
 
Page 137
''Chandra! That's five teaspoons of sugar you've put in that tea," her mother scolded.
Chandra looked down blankly at the sugar in the bottom of her teacup. "I have?"
Making a clucking noise with her tongue Margo removed the cup of syrup and poured it down the sink.
"Oh, Mom, what am I going to do?" Chandra groaned hopelessly. "I love him so much."
Her mother turned to face her again, concern in her soft, brown eyes. "Is he able to offer you what you would be happy with in life?"
Chandra thought of what Garrett wantedno ties, no commitments. He had simply offered companionship and one terrific love affair. That wasn't what she wanted. "No," she choked out bitterly. "He's able to, but he won't."
"He isn't married, is he . . ." Margo's voice trailed off sickly.
"No! No, nothing like that, Mom. I told you, he just doesn't want to get married."
"Well"her brown eyes had grown even sterner now"the next question I'm going to have to ask you is, what about Phillip?"
Chandra looked at her bleakly. "I don't knowI really don't know."
"He's a fine man, Chandra. He would make you a good, reliable husband, but if you don't love him . . ."
"I do love him . . . in a way," she protested. "He doesn't make me feel like Garrett does, but no one will ever make me feel as he did."
"Loving him 'in a way' isn't good enough, darling. The man you marry deserves all your love, not just what's left over from another man."
"I probably could grow to love him more," Chandra told her sincerely, knowing that she might if she really tried.
Margo turned and opened the oven door, the smell of chocolate cake permeating the room. "I suppose that happens, but is that what you really want to do?" She put the hot pans on a
 
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cooling rack, then turned to face Chandra once again. ''Learn to love him?"
"I don't want to hurt him."
"You'll hurt him more by going into the marriage with this kind of feeling," Margo warned. "A man senses these things."
"I'm aware of that. I plan on being perfectly honest with him when he drives down for Christmas."
"Oh, my gosh!" Margo's hands flew up to her face. "I completely forgot. Phillip called while you were resting. He said to tell you he was coming down tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow night?" Chandra asked, puzzled. "Why's he coming so early?"
"I don't know, darling. He just said not to disturb you, but left the message he'd be here tomorrow. It had completely slipped my mind," she apologized.
I wonder why he's coming down so early?
Chandra mused thoughtfully. Well, it might be for the best. She needed to see him again. Maybe when he walked through that door, all thoughts of Garrett would flee. That was about as likely as a dog laying eggs, but she could hope, couldn't she?
By the time her dad arrived home, the snow was blanketing the streets and housetops heavily. He came in the back door, stomping the snow off his shoes loudly. He kissed both his "girls," as he had always referred to them, soundly, demanding to know what smelled so good. Chandra began to feel almost human again, the pleasure of being with them crowding out all other thoughts. Everything would work outit simply had to.
After dinner they put up a Christmas tree that Dan had brought home in the trunk of his car. They all three worked busily, stringing the lights and placing the colorful ornaments on the tree.
"Oh, I wish Darrell were here," Margo said, picking up a wooden toy soldier with his name written on it, caressing it lovingly. "That job of his always keeps him on the run."
"He'll be here Christmas, Margo." Dan laughed tolerantly,

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