Part 3 (1/2)
He didn't like making love to a sh.e.l.l. It left him feeling as empty as she.
And angry. So freaking angry. How dare she freeze me out. How dare she walk out!
He'd been a good husband to her. He'd been faithful. He'd been a good father to their children. He'd loved his family. He'd loved her. He didn't deserve this.
She didn't deserve what you did to her, either.
Mac clenched his jaw against the old guilt that never completely went away, despite his efforts to redeem himself. That sin was more than twenty years old. He'd done his level best to make it up to her.
Have you, really? After all, you've never confessed to it.
Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he said with a sneer, ”Well, I can't do much about that now, can I? She's left me.”
So, now what? What are you going to do about it?
”I'm going to get dressed and go to work. I have a meeting at ten.”
He strode into his bedroom and grabbed underwear from the bureau. He'd go to work and do the job he'd worked so hard to get, and maybe she'd be back by the time he came home.
Just f.u.c.king watch me.
He sighed heavily. Or maybe not.
Standing at his closet door a few moments later, he stared at the row of suits and found himself frozen with indecision. Blue? Gray? Solid? Pinstripe? What color s.h.i.+rt? Which tie?
Whoa. This wasn't like him at all. Overwhelmed. Incapable of making a simple decision. Not a good situation for a man in his line of work.
He pivoted and crossed to a telephone, called his office, and claimed a sick day-his first in more years than he could remember. He no sooner replaced the receiver in the cradle than the phone rang. Checking caller ID, he winced. Caitlin. Should he answer it or not?
Mac found this choice no more easily made than the last. Had Ali already phoned the kids? Was Caitlin calling to rag on him? Or was this simply one of her usual, multiple daily calls to her mother? He allowed the answering machine to pick it up, then sat on the edge of the bed to listen.
”Hey, Mom. You there?” his daughter's voice asked. ”I remember you're going shopping with Mrs. Blessing sometime today, but it's early yet. h.e.l.lo?” After a pause, she continued, ”Okay, maybe you're in the shower. Well, I'll just talk to the machine until my bus comes-I'm on my way downtown to pick up a new tire for my bike. Some Einstein got the idea to hang all the bikes in front of the dorm in the trees overnight and when the campus cops took it down, the tire was history. Speaking of which ... I got my paper back in history and made an 86, which blows because I needed an 88 to bring my grade up to an A. In more interesting developments, I met the cutest guy at the library last night. His name is Patrick and he's a psych major. He wants to go to law school. I think ... Okay, here's my bus. I'll call your cell later, Mom. Love you. Tell Daddy I said hi and give him a kiss for me. Bye.”
Mac closed his eyes. Caitlin would flip when she heard her mother's news. The boys wouldn't like it, but Caitlin had her mother's drama queen gene. She'd probably cut her cla.s.ses and book a flight home. She'd cry a river and hire a pop psychologist to come to the house and counsel her off-their-rocker parents, and they'd all make their television debut on a reality show.
”Ah, Ali, what have we done?”
At that point, Mac had to get out of the house. He pulled on jeans, a T-s.h.i.+rt, and sneakers, then grabbed his wallet, keys, and cell phone and headed for the garage. He'd take a nice long drive and clear his head. He'd go east. Away from Denver, away from the mountains. Away from Alison.
While she drove west, away from him.
THREE.
Twenty minutes after leaving her house, Ali turned into her father's neighborhood. How lucky that she'd arranged to meet Celeste this morning at her dad's house. She needed a dose of comfort, and she knew she'd find it there. This was her Dorothy moment-there's no place like home.
She couldn't believe what she'd done. It was as if the Medusa thing that had begun with her hair had spread and taken control of her body. I've been offered a job, Mac. I'm going to take it.
”My oh my oh my.”
She'd left her husband. She'd packed a bag and driven off in a flurry of temper and trauma and drama, and Mac had never asked her-or told her, or begged her-to stay.
The jerk.
Ali had halfway expected that she'd lose her nerve and turn around. Yet, deep down inside, she'd known that wouldn't happen. She'd spoken the truth when she told him she couldn't bear it at home any longer. She didn't know how long this journey would take, where it would end, or with whom, but her first stop would be Eternity Springs. Well, after a detour to her daddy's house.
She parked in the driveway of the three-story Victorian mansion that had been the family home for three generations. Ali loved the place. Her father and his ancestors had taken great pains not to ruin its historic charm while adding modern conveniences. Celeste Blessing had used the same approach while converting her Victorian in Eternity Springs to the Angel's Rest Healing Center and Spa.
It was one of the reasons Ali had visited there so often during the past couple of years. At Angel's Rest in Eternity Springs, she felt at home.
Celeste believed the valley in which the little town nestled held a special healing energy, so when Eternity Springs faced an economic crisis a few years back, she'd stepped up with a solution-her Angel Plan, she'd called it. She'd set out to revitalize the town by establis.h.i.+ng a first-cla.s.s healing center and making Eternity Springs the Sedona of Colorado. So far, so good. Angel's Rest was bringing new prosperity and new opportunities to the citizens of Eternity Springs.
Ali opened her car door and reached for the coffee cake she'd stopped to buy on her way, emotional trauma being no excuse for being a poor hostess. Thankfully, her semiretired father golfed on fair-weather Tuesday mornings, so she wouldn't have to face any uncomfortable questions. She used her key and let herself in. In the kitchen, she put on a pot of coffee. Just as the appliance beeped a signal that brewing had ended, the doorbell rang. Ali returned to the front of the house, pasted on a smile, and opened the door.
Celeste stood on the front porch. A widowed, retired schoolteacher from South Carolina, she had purchased the Cavanaugh estate in Eternity Springs about three years ago and transformed it into Angel's Rest. She was a delightful woman, and Ali had liked her from the moment they'd met. Her lovely blue eyes always seemed to twinkle, and her soft southern accent made Ali think of sweet tea and front porch rockers. Celeste kept her silver-gray hair cut in a fas.h.i.+onable bob, demonstrated a fondness for angel-themed collectibles, and rode a Honda Gold Wing motorcycle for fun. Ali had decided she wanted to be Celeste when she grew up.
Celeste took one look at Ali, then offered a sympathetic frown. ”Alison? What's wrong?”
”Oh, Celeste.” Tears swelled and burst free as Ali stepped into her friend's waiting arms.
The story spilled out, everything from her missed manicures to the frozen tundra of her marriage bed. At some point during the telling, Celeste guided Ali into a chair at the kitchen table and set a cup of coffee, a piece of coffee cake, and a box of tissues in front of her.
Ali grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, then confessed, ”I know you weren't serious about the job, Celeste, but I told him you were. I made up a salary figure. I lied to him. I never lie! But I knew I had to leave there, and I couldn't run away. I had to run to something, and Eternity Springs just seems like the place I need to be. Does that make any sense?”
Celeste clicked her tongue. ”Now, Alison. I don't condone lying, but I am happy to have you help me with the Bristlecone. I do need a manager, someone to hire a staff and oversee the menus. Glenda Hawkins was kind enough to share her recipes with me, but I wouldn't mind making a few changes. You can have the job for as long as you like, but I don't want you to feel bad about leaving when it's time for you to go home. You can stay in the carriage house apartment. It's lovely. If, that is, you are certain about this?”
”I know I have to go. It's the only thing I am certain about, Celeste.” She closed her eyes, rubbed them, and said, ”The children. I have to call them. I told Mac I would.”
Frowning sadly, Celeste shook her head. ”You poor dear. What will you tell them?”
”Honestly? I don't know. How can I explain what's happening when I don't even understand it myself?” Ali glanced at the clock. It was only ten o'clock, and the morning already seemed like it'd been ten hours long. ”I should call them now. Neither Cait nor Chase has cla.s.s today until after noon. I don't know what Stephen's schedule is, though.”
”Do it. The task will weigh upon you until it's done.”
”I know.” Ali picked up a fork and cut a bite of the coffee cake in front of her, but she didn't eat it. Nor did she look at the phone. ”I'm glad you're here, Celeste. I don't think I could do it alone.”
Celeste reached for her hand and gave it a quick, comforting squeeze. Ali's knees felt a bit wobbly as she rose and lifted the phone handset from its cradle on the counter. She started with the boys first. Stephen answered his cell on the second ring. ”h.e.l.lo, Granddad,” he said before Ali said a word. ”I was going to call you later. My prof said you were right about that interstate commerce question.”
”Stephen, it's Mom,” Ali interrupted.
”Mom?” Her son paused a moment, then asked, ”You're calling from Granddad's house. Is he okay?”
”Yes. Your grandfather is fine. He's on the golf course this morning. I ... um ... have other news.” Ali closed her eyes and reached deep inside herself for the right words. ”I don't quite know how to say it. I'm not sure how to start.”
”Mom? You're scaring me.”
”No! Don't be scared. You absolutely don't have to be scared. It's just that ... well ... your dad and I are experiencing a rough spot in our marriage right now, I'm afraid. I think it's best that we spend some time apart. I'll be living up in the mountains for a little while. I've been offered a job-can you believe it?”