Possessions (63 page)

“Sure,” he said casually, as if they truly were in the long-ago time, but his body was as tight as a clenched fist as he struggled to think clearly through the numbing shock of hearing a voice when for so long there had been only a shadow. “Of course we can talk. Do you want to come here, or meet somewhere?”

“No, I meant now. On the phone.”

“Craig, after sixteen years we ought to be able to talk face to face.”

“I'm not in San Francisco.”

“Where are you?”

“It doesn't matter. Ross, I need help and there isn't anyone else I can call. If you won't talk to me on the phone—”

“Of course I will; whatever you want. Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Craig laughed. “How does that sound? I'm fine. I've lost everything, but I'm fine.”

Ran away from everything, Ross corrected him silently. But he was aware of changes in Craig's voice that he had not heard at first: it was deeper and stronger than he remembered. “What kind of help do you want?”

“I need advice. And money. I wouldn't ask—I never thought I'd be able to come to you again, after leaving you . . . with Jenny . . .” He stopped. “I can't talk about it. I've tried to write to you, or call, so goddamn many times, but I couldn't—and I still can't. Someday I will; I swear it; but this is more important . . . Ross, I've got to have my wife and kids back. I want to start over again. The mess with Carl got out of hand; I could have straightened it out—we'd had misunderstandings before—but I panicked. And then there's—”

“You mean you didn't—?”

“Katherine.” Craig went on without pausing. “I need to explain to her—make up for . . .” His voice faded.

“Craig?” Ross said loudly.

“Sorry. I get stuck on telling Katherine. I don't know how the hell I can explain . . . It was bad enough last year, when I left, but now . . .”

Stiffly, Ross said, “She's your wife.”

“That doesn't guarantee anything; that was part of the problem. I have to think of the right way to tell her, otherwise she won't . . . Ross, can you loan me some money? There's a high-powered lawyer in Vancouver, but he wants a retainer. Can you do it?”

“Of course. How much do you need?”

“I don't know. Probably five thousand to start. But I may need a lot more.”

“I'll try to get you whatever you need. Craig—”

“I was crazy to run; I know that. I could have worked everything out, found a way to keep the whole mess from Katherine—”

“Keep it from her? You should have told her!”

“You wouldn't say that if you knew her. But you see her now and then, don't you? Do you know if she got the roses I sent on her birthday?”

“She got them . . .”

“The kids told me she works at Heath's but she can't be
earning much—my God!, have you seen that apartment? She ought to be able to do better, with the money I send. That's one thing: as hard as it's going to be to work everything out, at least she knows I helped support her all this time.”

Ross paced as far as the telephone cord would stretch, then back the other way.
Call her; come back; she wants to talk to you.

No, stay away.

Steadfast Katherine. What would happen when she heard the plea in Craig's voice and took pity on his aloneness, and saw her children greet him and call him Dad?

“Ross, are you listening? I've got to know how things are before I call her. Is she still seeing that bastard? When I came last December, to take her back to Canada, the kids told me she was with him,
at his place
 . . . they said she saw a lot of him. Christ, I thought I'd gotten away from the son of a bitch—that he'd never get his knife into me again—and then almost the first thing I hear is my kids talking about him . . . I won't go through that again; I don't want to come back and find out she's with him. Or someone else.”

Ross was silent.

“Well?
Is she still seeing him?
Damn it, he'll chew her up, destroy her; she's so naive . . . she doesn't understand . . .”

“She broke off with him,” Ross said.

Craig sighed. “I thought she would. Katherine's too smart not to see through him. She probably didn't spend much time with him anyway. After all, she's not a young girl who could be taken in, hypnotized . . . So is that it? She hasn't got anyone? Or is there someone else?” He paused. “I'm asking you, Ross. Is my wife waiting for me or has she found someone else?”

Poor Craig, Ross thought involuntarily. He hasn't changed. He can't take the risk of calling his wife without making sure of what he'll find.

“Ross, did you hear me? It's a simple question. Or is it? Are you trying to protect someone?”

“No—”

“Then what the hell is going on?” He waited. “Damn it, Ross,
I'm asking for help!
I counted on you; we were friends once. At least I thought we were . . . What's going on with Katherine? Who are you covering for?”

“Craig, she's been waiting for you—”

“
Who is it?
You're a lousy liar, Ross; something's going on and you're lying about it.
This is my wife we're talking about
 . . . and you and I used to be honest with each other. I wouldn't be so surprised if it was that bastard—I'd expect him to lie to me, make me squirm, keep me in the dark . . . but you! For Christ's sake, you're no better than he is. When did you start acting like your brother?”

“You damn fool,” Ross exploded. “Katherine and I are in love with each other. I want to marry her, but she won't divorce you. She has a kind of loyalty you couldn't begin to comprehend, and she won't marry me or even live with me until she understands why you left her, until she finishes with the past, finishes her marriage—”

“She said that?”

“Damn it, do you think I'm making this up? She wants to finish her marriage with you, but only face to face, as equals—that was how she put it—which is a hell of a lot more than she ever got from you—” A small click broke through his torrent of words. “Craig? CRAIG!” he shouted, but there was no answer, only dead silence from the telephone in his hand.

Ross flung himself from the house and strode through the darkened hills, going over the conversation in his mind, cursing his clumsiness. He'd bungled it. With Craig in his grasp, he had let him go.

Toward dawn he was home again, thinking of Katherine, repeating the conversation over and over in a bitter rehearsal for when she would arrive. She'd be there in a few hours to spend the afternoon with him; a time they had planned lightheartedly in bed the night before: Friday, the end of the week, a chance to spend a few daylight hours without the children. “And this time,” Katherine had said, “I'll pick you up; Leslie loaned me her car while she and Claude are in New York. I'll be there about noon.”

Waiting for her, Ross prowled from room to room and was outside, on the deck, his back to the house, when he heard her footsteps. “Hi,” she said softly, coming up behind him. “What requires such deep thought you can't—” He turned and she saw his eyes. “Ross, what is it? What's happened?”

He put out his hands and took hers. “Craig called me last night.”

The sunlight lurched. Everything around them, from their clasped hands to the great bridge below, snapped out of place, then slowly settled back. The world grew still. A solitary bee dived into the silence, its buzz a deafening roar. Gently, Katherine pulled her hands away and walked across the deck. “When is he coming back?”

“I don't know. Perhaps not at all.”

“Not at all!” She swung around. “He must be! Why else did he call? Why did he call? Why didn't
he
call me?”

“He wanted to know if you were still seeing Derek.”

“He could have asked me . . . Oh. He couldn't take the chance . . .?”

“He wanted my help. And I made a mess of it.”

“But you told him to come back.”

There was a pause. “No,” Ross said.

“You didn't—Ross, you know I must see him!”

“I was afraid!
Can you understand that? Of course I know you have to see him, but when I heard his voice, I thought of what might happen when you were all together again, the Fraser family—”

“But . . . what about embezzling? Being framed? What did he say?”

“We didn't get to that.”

“Ross!”

“Damn it, I tried to ask him but he kept changing the subject—”

“You didn't ask him about embezzling and you decided not to tell him to come back.”

“I didn't decide anything. That was the problem. Katherine, I've gone over it so many times I can repeat the whole thing. If you'll just sit down . . .”

Slowly, she came back to him. In the fragrant sunlight, they sat apart from each other and Ross repeated the conversation.

When he finished, Katherine was looking past him, shaking her head, her hands gripped together. “How could you tell him about us? That was for me to do!”

“I know; I hadn't intended—”

“You had no right to tell him! I was going to—”

“I know that! I hadn't intended to tell him anything!”

“Then why did you? Oh, Ross—to have him so close and then to make him run away—!”

“Katherine, no one makes Craig run away; he does it by himself.”

“But you knew that; you've always known that. Of all people, you should have known how to talk to him.”

“Right. I should have known.” Slowly, he said, “He goaded me. But I might have told him anyway. I remember thinking, at one point, that you might not do it yourself.”

“You knew I was just waiting until he got here—”

“That's what you said. Maybe I didn't believe it.”

“Didn't—!”

“Katherine. Look at yourself. Your husband deserted you more than a year ago; you love me and you're loved by me. But you still cling to someone who's betrayed you—”

“You think I should pay him back. Has it occurred to you that the only thing left of my marriage is knowing that I haven't destroyed anything, that I haven't been the one to cut him off from his wife and children?”

“He doesn't deserve them!”

“That's not the point! I'm not thinking of Craig; I'm thinking of myself—what kind of person I am. Do I run away as he did? Or do I wait for him—”

“So you can be better than he is.”

“Well, why not? What's wrong with trying to be better than someone who's hurt you? Are we only supposed to be loyal when it's reciprocated?”

“It's not a bad idea.” Ross studied his hands. “I started to ask you—when I said you should look at yourself—what if it's not loyalty at all?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about a woman who's so afraid of marriage she hides behind an absent husband rather than risk another failure.”

“That is ridiculous!”

“Just think about it for a minute. I'm going to get us something to drink.” He disappeared into the house and returned with a pitcher and two glasses. “Iced tea. With home-grown mint.” He filled the glasses. “What do you think?”

“About the tea?”

“Katherine.”

“I'm not hiding behind Craig. Maybe I am afraid—a little. Everything's happened so fast, I'm not sure where I am—how
far I've come. I still don't know how well I can do on my own; I don't know if I can support the three of us by myself; I don't know how strong I am without a man. Maybe that's why I'm not sure I want to trust love yet. But I'm not hiding behind Craig; you're wrong about that. I
owe
him something.”

“Whatever it is, you've paid it.”

“It's not that simple. I have to think of Jennifer and Todd; of what's best for them.”

“A stable family is best for them.” He stopped abruptly. “Are you saying you
might
go back to him? To have a stable family? God damn it, he deserted you!”

“I know that!
And I haven't thought, for a long time, that I'd go back to him. I told you I was just waiting . . . I told you I still don't understand what happened to us. We loved each other and had a life together and were happy—I think we were happy—and then everything collapsed . . .
and I don't know why!
And until I do, I'm not going to start another marriage.”

Katherine's eyes were hurt and angry. “I told you all that—I thought you understood—but then, when he finally called, you drove him away! Ross, do you know what you've done? I had a chance to talk to him, to ask him so many questions . . . but now I'm still where I was before—wondering, imagining, waiting,
not knowing.
And I don't know how long it will take him to try again, to get up his courage, the way he did after Jennifer and Todd told him about Derek.” She began to tremble. “I don't know what he's thinking; I can't even imagine what it will be like to see him again if—when—he does call again; I don't know what we'll say to each other or how I'll feel or how I'll tell him . . .” The glass of tea, wet with condensed moisture, slipped from her shaking hand and shattered on the deck. Katherine burst into tears. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just don't know how everything is going to end . . . I don't know what's really best for the children . . . and I worry about Craig . . . he's all alone and I have you, and Jennifer and Todd, and Victoria and Tobias . . . I have a family and he has no one and he knows it now, because you told him about us . . . Ross, you think all you have to do is remind me that he deserted us, but it isn't that simple . . .” After a moment, she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and sat up straight. “I'd better get a rag and clean up this mess.”