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A Mother's Wish

Page 11

   



“Of course, I know. You. She doesn’t want me seeing you again, which is exactly the point of the entire charade. Remember?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, scowling.
“Are … are you telling me you’ve changed your mind?” she asked.
“Yes.” He hated to be the one to say it first, but one of them had to. “What about you?”
“I think so.”
Steve flattened his hand against the steering wheel. “I swear you’re about the worst thing that’s ever happened to my ego.”
She laughed and rested her hand on his shoulder. The wig she had on tilted sideways and she righted it. “That does sound terrible, doesn’t it?”
He smiled. “Yeah. The least you could do is show some enthusiasm.”
“I haven’t dated much in the last ten years. But if I was going to choose any man, it would be you.”
“That’s better,” he said. He wanted to kiss her. He’d been thinking about it from the moment he’d picked her up.
“Only …” Meg said sadly.
“Only what?” he repeated, lowering his mouth to hers.
Their lips met and it was heaven, just the way he’d known it would be. By the time the kiss ended, Steve was leaning his head against the window of the car door, his eyes closed. It was even more wonderful than he’d remembered, and that seemed impossible.
Meg’s head was on his chest, tucked beneath his chin.
“It’s too late,” she whispered.
“What’s too late?”
“We’ve gone to all this trouble to convince Lindsey that you’re all wrong for me.”
“I know, but … “
“Do you think Nancy will believe this was all a silly joke?”
“No.”
“I think we should end everything right here and now, don’t you?” she asked.
Steve stiffened. “If that’s what you want.”
She moved away from him. “I guess it is,” she said, with just a hint of regret.
Five
Lindsey was pacing the living room, waiting for Meg when she walked in the front door.
“Hi, honey,” Meg said, trying to sound cheerful yet exhausted—since she’d led Lindsey to believe she was taking inventory at the bookstore and that was why she’d come home so late.
“It’s way after seven!” her daughter cried, rushing toward her. “You weren’t with Steve, were you?”
“Ah …” Meg wasn’t willing to lie outright. Half truths and innuendos were about as far as she wanted to stretch this.
Lindsey closed her eyes and waved her hands vaguely. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Meg asked as calmly as she could. Unfortunately, she didn’t think she sounded all that reassuring. She’d left Steve only moments earlier and was already feeling some regret. After following through with this ridiculous charade, Steve wanted to change his mind and continue seeing Meg. She’d quickly put an end to that idea. Now she wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision.
“Mom,” Lindsey said, her dark eyes challenging, “we need to talk.”
“Of course.” Meg walked into the kitchen and took the china teapot from the hutch. “My mother always made tea when we had something to discuss.” Somehow, the ritual of drinking tea together put everything in perspective. Meg missed those times with her mother.
Lindsey helped her assemble everything they needed and carried it into the dining room. Meg poured them each a cup, once the tea had steeped, and they sat across from each other at the polished mahogany table.
Meg waited, and when Lindsey wasn’t immediately forthcoming she decided to get the conversation started. “You wanted to talk to me about Steve, right?”
Lindsey clasped the delicate china cup with one hand and lowered her gaze. “Do you really, really like him?” she asked anxiously.
Meg answered before she took time to censor the question. “Yes.”
“But why? I mean, he’s nothing like what I thought he’d be.” She hesitated. “I suppose this is what Brenda and I get for pretending we were you,” she mumbled. “Maybe if you’d read his stuff, you would’ve been able to tell what kind of guy he really is.”
“Steve is actually a fine person.” And he was. Or at least the Steve Meg knew.
Lindsey risked a glance at her. “You’ve said hundreds of times that you don’t want me to judge others by outward appearances, but sometimes that’s all there is.”
“You’re worried about me and Steve, aren’t you?” Meg said gently.
Lindsey rubbed her finger along the edge of the teacup. “I realize now that what Brenda and I did was really stupid. We linked you up with a guy who has a prison record. We sure were easy to fool,” Lindsey said with a scowl. “We’re only fifteen years old!”
“But I like Steve,” Meg felt obliged to tell her.
Lindsey looked as if she didn’t know how to account for that. “I’m afraid he’s going to hurt you.”
“Steve wouldn’t do that,” Meg assured her, “but I understand your concern, honey, and I promise you I won’t let the situation get out of hand.”
Lindsey frowned, stiffened her shoulders and blurted out, “I don’t want you to see him again.”
“But … “
“I mean it, Mom. This guy is trouble.”
Talk about role reversal!
“I want you to promise me you won’t see Steve Conlan again.”
“Lindsey … “
“This is important. You may not understand it now, but I promise you will in the future. There are plenty of other men, law-abiding citizens, who’d give their right arms to meet a woman like you.”
Meg stared. She couldn’t be hearing this. This sounded exactly like something her mother had said back when Meg was in high school.
The intense look in Lindsey’s eyes softened and she gestured weakly. “The time will come when you’ll thank me for this.”
“Really?” Meg couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows.
“There’ll be a boy in my life that you’ll disapprove of and I won’t understand why,” Lindsey went on. “When that happens, I want you to remind me of now.”
Meg shook her head—in bafflement and disbelief. “Are you telling me you’d break up with a boy simply because I didn’t like him?”
“No,” Lindsey said carefully. “But I’d consider it because I know how I feel about you seeing Steve, and I’d understand how you might feel about someone I was dating. Don’t get me wrong,” she hurried to add, “I don’t dislike Steve …. He’s kind of cute. It’s just that I feel you could do a whole lot better.”
“I’ll think about it,” Meg promised.
Lindsey nodded. “I can’t ask for more than that.”
Her daughter had behaved just as Meg had predicted. This had gone precisely according to plan. But Meg didn’t feel good about it. If anything, she felt more depressed following their conversation than before.
She didn’t have any talent when it came to relationships, Meg decided, as she finished putting away the dinner dishes later that evening. Steve had come right out and told her he’d had a change of heart, and she’d bungled everything. Instead of admitting that she felt the same way he did, she’d trampled all over his ego.
Meg turned to the kitchen phone, tempted to call him. It couldn’t end like this, with such confusion, such uncertainty about what she really wanted. What they wanted.
Never had an evening passed more slowly. It seemed to take Lindsey hours to go to bed, and by then Meg was yawning herself.
As soon as Meg could be reasonably sure that her daughter was asleep, she tiptoed toward the kitchen phone and dialed Steve’s number, her heart pounding. Finally she heard his groggy voice.
“Steve?” she whispered. “Thank goodness it’s you. I didn’t know what I was going to do if Nancy answered.”
“Meg? Is that you?” He sounded surprised to hear from her, and none too pleased.
She bristled. “How many other women do you have phoning you at eleven o’clock at night?”
He didn’t respond right away, and when he spoke his voice definitely lacked welcome. “I thought you said it wasn’t a good idea for us to see each other.”
“I … I don’t know what I want.”
“Do you expect me to make your decisions for you?”
“Of course not.” This wasn’t going well. In fact, it was going very badly. She probably should’ve waited until she’d had time to figure this out a little more clearly.
“Is there a reason you called?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes,” she said, sorry now that she’d phoned him. “I wanted to apologize for being abrupt earlier. I … can see now that I shouldn’t have called.”
Having said that, she carefully replaced the receiver. For a long moment she stared at the phone, feeling like an idiot.
She’d turned away to head up the stairs when the phone rang, jolting her. Quickly she grabbed it before the noise could wake Lindsey.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“Meet me.” It was Steve.
“I can’t leave Lindsey.”
“Why not? She’s in bed, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but … “
“Write her a note. Tell her you’re going to the grocery store.”
How reasonable he made it sound—as if she usually did her shopping in the middle of the night.
“She won’t even know you’re gone,” Steve said.
Meg closed her eyes. They’d been together only a few hours earlier, and yet it felt as if they’d been apart for weeks.
Her stomach twisted. Then—before she could change her mind—she blurted out, “All right, but I can’t stay long.”
“Fair enough.”
They agreed to meet in the Albertson’s parking lot. The huge store was open twenty-four hours a day. Meg had been shopping there for years. The note she left Lindsey said she’d gone to pick up some milk—that classic excuse—but it was exactly what she intended to do.
She sat in her car until she saw Steve pull into the nearly empty lot. Uncertain she was doing the right thing, she got out and waited for him.
Steve parked in the spot next to hers. They stood facing each other for a moment, neither speaking.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said.
It appeared she wasn’t the only one with doubts. Steve’s face was blank, emotionless. “Me neither.”
They walked into the store together and reached for grocery carts. Meg’s had a squeaky wheel. The sound echoed through the cavernous store.
The deli was closed, but Steve was able to get them each a cup of coffee from the friendly night manager. They parked their empty carts and sat at a small white table in the deli section. Neither seemed inclined to speak.