A Tangled Web (78 page)

Stephanie opened her eyes. “I don't think . . . when children are happy, anybody should take that from them. They're so beautiful, aren't they—Penny and Cliff? So full of life and joy and fun . . . They were dancing down the street with Alexandra as if they were going off to conquer Paris. They weren't afraid of anything! Well, yes, they were: they were afraid their parents weren't being loving to each other. And I guess they're used to seeing loving parents, aren't they? They're used to that. A house filled with love.
Aren't they?
”

“Yes,” Sabrina said quietly.

Stephanie bent her head. She picked at a stone on the wall, just as the wren had pecked at it earlier, concentrating on it. “All last night, when neither of us was sleeping, I was thinking about the four of you in Evanston, in that awful old house that always creaked and needed fixing somewhere, and in the kitchen, making dinner and eating together . . . I could see all the rooms so clearly, and all of you in them, being together . . . All those things you told me when we were in London, about their school and Cliff's soccer and Penny's painting and their friends, and that Chinese boy . . . all night I thought about you, the four of you, but mostly about Penny and Cliff, and I knew
they were happy, and then when I saw them, it was more than I'd ever imagined . . . how happy and secure and loving they are in a . . . in a loving family.”

There was a long silence. The sounds of traffic were like ocean waves in the background, isolating the terrace with its three motionless people. “What I mean is, I couldn't . . . I couldn't imagine . . . forcing myself into that. Into what you've created. Because they don't think anything is wrong, anything is missing. I wanted to believe they thought that, but they don't. They're happy. Their world is solid and familiar and . . . stable. They're full of trust, not fear. As long as . . . as long as I . . . as long as I keep quiet.”

She looked at Garth. “I asked for them today because I thought if you said yes, we could work something out. I thought it would be so wonderful to have them that I'd do anything to make them happy and then they would be.” A rueful smile touched her lips. “Instant happiness. I didn't have any new ideas about how we'd do it or what I'd tell them when they knew I wasn't Sabrina—because of course they would know; there's no way I could fool them for more than a few hours—I just wanted it to happen because it would be so wonderful. The same way I wanted to be Sabrina because that would be wonderful. As if I could wish into being a world that was wonderful. But what would I do when they started wondering why I wasn't like the mother they knew? I couldn't tell them the truth. I thought I could think of a way to do it, but there isn't one. They'd never trust me again. Children think their parents will always be there for them. I guess they find ways to handle divorce, but this wasn't a divorce: this was a game—Robert called it foolhardy and dangerous—and we played it so carelessly, as if we were playing with a deck of cards. How do you make children believe their world is stable and reliable after that? I can't do it. I can't take them away and pretend to be their—” Her lips moved, but no sound came. And then, her voice almost inaudible, she
said, “—pretend to be their mother, when they've already got one.”

Sabrina felt a rush of wonder and joy that left her breathless, and then a terrible sadness.
Stephanie, you can't walk away from them forever; you love them so.

But isn't that exactly what I want her to do?

Garth went to Stephanie and took her in his arms. She looked at him through her tears and then laid her head on his shoulder like a child. “I'm sorry, Garth, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry; I didn't think about what I was doing, I just went ahead, and you deserved better, and so did Penny and Cliff; I'm sorry, I'm sorry—”

“Hush, it's over, it's over.” Garth stroked her hair. “It's done; we can't go back.” Over Stephanie's head, he met Sabrina's eyes and, jubilantly, felt once again the unalloyed wonder he had felt for a year whenever he looked at her and knew she was part of his life, part of him, and nothing could shatter that. “We wouldn't go back, even if we could,” he said to her. “We've traveled too far; we've made too many discoveries.”

“But we have to find a way,” Sabrina said to him. “The three of us.”

“Yes. We will.” His love for her seemed to him so transcendent, their understanding so instinctive and complete, that he knew there could be no room, ever again, for a deception between them: no room, no need, no place in what they would build on that which they had already begun. In the damnedest way possible, he thought wryly, but we have made a beginning, and a good one, and from now on we'll . . . what had Stephanie said? Soar. From now on, we'll soar.

The wren had returned and was swooping in narrowing circles, looking for a place to land. Garth smiled. Stubborn bird. He'll find his place. We all do, if we're lucky.

He held Stephanie away from him. “Listen to me. You're not going to walk completely out of Penny and Cliff's life. We won't be a party to that. We'll tell them the same truth we'll tell everyone else: that their Aunt
Sabrina wasn't killed in the explosion, that she lost her memory and has been living in France since January, that she's recovered her memory and loves them and wants to see them as often as possible, even more often than she used to. And that we'll visit her in Vézelay or wherever she's living, as often as we can.”

Stephanie was staring at him, standing stiffly within his loose embrace. With a sharp movement, she pulled away and walked to the other end of the terrace and stood there, her head bent, her hands over her ears.
There is no end to a deception once it begins.

She saw Sabrina walking toward her and turned her back, leaning her forehead against the stone wall, still holding her ears.
On and on and on: endless ramifications, circles and more circles, layers and layers piling up, until it becomes a new truth.

And this was the new truth: that she would play a part in her children's life. Not the part a mother expected to play, but a part that would allow her to see her children grow, and give her opportunities over the years to tell them how much she loved them and wanted what was best for them, wanted them to be the strongest, happiest people they could be.

On the fringes, Stephanie thought. I'll always be on the fringes of the Andersen family, the one to wave goodbye when they go off together to their home, their shared experiences, their private stories and jokes, their plans for tomorrow and the next day and the next.

It isn't enough.

It's better than nothing.

And in that moment she gave up Stephanie Andersen and took to herself Sabrina Longworth. Not the Sabrina she had replaced in London, but a new one, entirely hers. Somehow she would make a life from that name.

Garth saw the slight straightening of her shoulders and knew she had made up her mind. It occurred to him briefly that they would have to find a way to get a divorce. We don't really have to, he thought: if she's going to be Sabrina,
she's been divorced from Denton for years and she's never been married to me. But I think we'll all want to do it as soon as possible, and put an end to as much as we can of this crazy adventure.

“Stephanie,” Sabrina said.

Stephanie turned. “Wrong name,” she said shakily, trying to smile, and then they were in each other's arms. And if their world had turned upside down and they could not yet fathom how they would deal with the twists and turns of the coming years, they were still together, they had not lost each other, there would still be a voice at the other end of the telephone line, saying, “You understand, you always understand.”

Stephanie held her sister as if she could never let her go, but then, steeling herself, she kissed Sabrina on both cheeks and stepped back. “I can't see Penny and Cliff now; I can't talk to them yet. I have to get ready to be their Aunt Sabrina, and that's going to take a while.”

Sabrina studied her face. “You're not going back to Vézelay?”

“Not yet. I'll call Léon; he'll understand that nothing has changed between us, that I want to spend my life with him, but right now I have to be alone for a while. I think I'll stay in Paris for a few days and then probably go to Cavaillon to spend some time with Robert. I'll let you know where I am.” She stepped back farther, putting more distance between them, until she was beside Garth. “Thank you for forgiving me. And for letting me be part of Penny and Cliff's life. I promise I'll be very good to them. A good aunt. I've never been an aunt. An adventure, Sabrina!”

She turned to the French doors that led to the living room and looked from Garth to Sabrina with a wavering smile. “I think you'd better go, don't you? Your children are waiting.”

“Yes,” Sabrina said, “in a minute.” She walked past Stephanie into the sitting room and took from her purse the
small photo album she carried at all times. “This is for you. I'll send more as we take them.”

Stephanie held the album in both hands. She opened it and turned the pages. “My sweet Penny,” she whispered. “And my very handsome, grown-up Cliff.” She rested her fingers on a picture of the two of them grinning at her from the backyard of their house. “Thank you,” she said to Sabrina. “I love you.”

Sabrina kissed her. “I love you . . . Sabrina. You'll come to visit us in a little while. Please. Please.”

Garth put his arm around her. “Time to go.” He kissed Stephanie's cheek. “We'll talk to you soon. And see you soon.”

His arm around Sabrina, they walked to the door and into the corridor without looking back. But Sabrina could not help it. She glanced quickly into the room as the door closed and saw Stephanie standing alone, one hand clutching the photo album, the other raised in farewell.

Then she and Garth were in each other's arms for a long silent moment until, together, they turned to walk down the corridor. Hand in hand, Garth and Stephanie Andersen walked to the elevator, to the lobby, to the street, where, a few blocks away, their children waited.

JUDITH MICHAEL
is the pen name of a husband-and-wife writing team living in Chicago and Aspen. Among their
New York Times
bestsellers are the novels
Deceptions, Possessions, Private Affairs, Inheritance, A Ruling Passion, Sleeping Beauty, Pot of Gold,
and
A Tangled Web.

Books by Judith Michael

Deceptions

Possessions

Private Affairs Inheritance

A Ruling Passion Sleeping Beauty

Pot of Gold

A Tangled Web

Published by POCKET BOOKS

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © 1994 by JM Productions, Ltd.

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ISBN: 0-671-53288-X

ISBN 13: 978-1-4391-4108-3 (eBook)

First Pocket Books printing October 1995

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