Celebration (13 page)

 

 

There was a spring in Kristine's steps as she bounded through the house, out to the kitchen, then to the barn.

“Whoa” Pete said, holding up his hand. He had three pups in his arms who were trying to lick at his chin. “Is this the same Kristine Kelly who left here two days ago? You're lookin' good, Kristine. How was the trip?”

Kristine beamed. “The trip was, in a word, wonderful.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better than good, my friend.”

“Tell me about it,” Pete said, transferring the pups to Kristine's waiting arms.

“The sky was bluer, the air sweeter, the sun more golden. The warm summer rain was delicious,” she said, nuzzling the pups.

“I don't think I ever heard a graduation summed up quite like that. Or, are we talking about Woodie?”

Kristine flushed. “Both. Don't be nosy.”

“I deserve to be nosy. How was the graduation?”

“It was wonderful. I was so fearful but the kids . . . they said they loved me, Pete. I never expected to hear that from any of them. Mike has a girlfriend and a job in California. Cala has a boyfriend, and she's going to work in California, too. Tyler enlisted in the Marines. That shook me up a little, but I'm okay with it. He's going to come here when he gets his first leave. They're so grown-up. I had to fight not to cry, but then I did and so did they. It's a start, a kind of new beginning. God, it was so wonderful. Listen, do you think you can handle things here? We drove all night, and I'd like to get a few hours' sleep.”

“No problem, Kristine. Now, what about Woodie?”

“He's wonderful, too. Everything is wonderful. Isn't
wonderful
a wonderful word?”

“I guess that means you got laid.”

“Pete!”

“It's written all over your face. Listen, I'm happy for you. Woodie is a great guy. In fact, I don't think they come any better than him with the exception of myself. I'm for anything that puts a smile on your face. Don't look at me like that. You and I have shared a lot of secrets these past two years while we waited for the dogs to give birth. I just want you to know I'm happy for you, and I don't want any details. Go on, take your nap, and I'll take care of things.”

“I might have to go to New York next week for a few days. Woodie thinks I need all these people to, you know, set up trusts and stuff. He wants to make sure I'm protected. Do you mind? I'll be glad to pay you overtime.”

“Woodie's right. I don't mind, and overtime is not necessary. The free room and board takes care of everything. Do what you have to do.”

Kristine handed over the three small balls of fur. “I'll see you later, Pete.”

“Yeah, later,” Pete said as he tried to get a firmer grip on the wiggling dogs.

Upstairs in her room, with the door closed, Kristine's shoulders slumped when she looked at the room she'd slept in for the past three years. Her body started to shake the moment she made eye contact with the picture of Logan on her night table.

Anyone seeing the room for the first time would have thought it was a shrine to Logan Kelly. There were pictures and mementos everywhere.

Kristine felt a lump form in her throat at the same moment her stomach gave birth to a huge knot. For one brief moment she thought she was going to black out. She steadied herself, then reached for the photograph, her fingers tracing the outline of her husband's face. “I'm sorry, Logan, but I can't wait forever. I'm human. I deserve a life too. Woodie is ... Woodie is ... someone I care about. Just so you know, I didn't tell him I loved him. I wanted to, but the words stuck in my throat. He loves me, cares about me, and he hates your fucking guts. I should hate you, too. I want to, but part of me will always belong to you. That was a terrible legacy for you to leave me, Logan. If I'm going to get on with my life then I have to cut you out of that life. I'm not going to be a good little soldier any longer. That book is going in the trash as soon as I can lay my hands on it.”

Kristine walked over to the built-in window seat and propped open the lid. She dumped all her mementos and pictures on the bottom, not caring if the glass frames broke or not. She looked around to see if she had forgotten anything. She hadn't. The lid snapped shut.

Gone but not forgotten.

Kristine's gaze swept to the mantel, where only one picture remained, of her three children, taken in Sadie's backyard. She smiled.

“Your loss, Logan. Your loss,” she murmured as she drifted into sleep.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Kristine followed the receptionist down a long hallway. The meeting with her advisors, which had to be put back a month because Kristine had come down with a bad cold, was about to take place. The meeting Woodie had gone out of his way to arrange. She wished she knew more about finances. She'd been a fool to trust Logan with everything. These men were going to see how stupid she really was. Was.
Was is my keyword
, she thought as the door opened.

They stared at her, polite looks on their faces. She wanted to smile, but her facial muscles felt like they were stretched tight on an embroidery hoop. She inclined her head slightly, and said, “Gentlemen,” by way of acknowledgment. Like Woodie said,
Don't let them intimidate you
.
You
'
re paying them. They're going to work for you
.

One of the men rose to hold her chair. She sank down gratefully and waited expectantly as coffee was poured, cigarettes lighted. Then the introductions. Edwin Leavitt-Gruberger, estate and pension planner; Martin Friedman, attorney; Peter Rubolotta, broker; Michael and Audrey Bernstein, CPAs. She nodded again, and the meeting was under way.

Six hours later, with a thirty-minute break for lunch, the meeting was over. Kristine heaved a sigh of relief as she made her way to the rest room with Audrey Bernstein. “I think you're in good hands, Mrs. Kelly.”

Kristine smiled. “I think so, too.”

“It will take a little while before everything is formalized. Papers will arrive by the pound. Read everything carefully, and if you have any questions, we're only a phone call away. I'm sorry your life didn't turn out the way you had every right to expect it to. I have two little girls, and my husband and I both feel that nothing is more important than family. You're on the right track now. The important thing is, are you comfortable with everything that was said and done in that room today. If not, we can go back in there and start over.”

“No, everything is fine. I understand everything we talked about. On the plane today, coming here, I felt an awful sense of disloyalty. I felt like I was trying to cheat my husband when I don't even have a husband. I don't know if he's alive or dead. All I know is he stole eight million dollars from me along with my eight-thousand-dollar household savings. I turned into a drunk, lost my children, and I feel disloyal. In a million years I will never understand that person I once was.”

“Just think about who you are now. Think about what you accomplished and what you will continue to accomplish. If there are any losers here, you aren't among them. Believe it or not, you came out the winner. In time, you'll come to realize that. My husband is waiting for me. We have to drive to New Jersey, and this is rush hour. We promised Jessica and Corinne we'd take them to Chili's. We try never to break a promise. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Kelly. We'll talk again.”

“I'm sure we will. Thank you very much.”

Kristine was the last one to leave the office, her head swimming with everything that had been said during the previous hours. Her shoulders straightened imperceptibly as she stepped into the elevator. “So there, Logan Kelly, so there,” she murmured over and over as she rode to the main lobby.

She knew he would be waiting for her. What she didn't know or expect was the rush of adrenaline she would feel as he held out his arms. She stepped into them as though she'd been doing it all her life. It felt right. It felt good and oh so wonderful. She smiled to herself. There was that word wonderful again.

“How about coming to my house for a sleepover?” Woodie grinned.

“Now that's the best idea I've heard all day. Aren't you going to ask me how it went?”

“No. That's your private business, Kristine. I have been assured that all the professionals you finally got to meet with today are tops in their fields. You're going to be nurtured, Kristine.”

“I know. I'm glad it's done, and I'm glad it's out of the way. I have to call Pete to tell him I won't be home tonight. Do you mind waiting a few minutes?”

“I took care of that. He said to stay as long as you like.”

“Is that what he said?” Kristine drawled.

“Yep. Word for word.”

“In that case, I might stay the weekend. I'm all wired up as my son Mike would say.”

“I know something that will help to alleviate that particular condition.”

“Are you going to tell me or show me?”

“What do you think?”

“I always did like show-and-tell and in that order.”

“Me too.”

 

 

Kristine stepped from Woodie's car, a stunned look on her face. “This is a modern house,” she said in surprise. “Why did I think you lived in a house like mine? This is gorgeous. I love redwood and all that glass. Good Lord, who cleans all those windows? Do you have shades? Do you have a gardener?”

“Slow down. I had this house built because I personally hate old, moldy things, and my parents' house was old and moldy. It would have cost more to restore it and it would still have been an old house with antique plumbing and electricity. I think of myself as a modern kind of guy, you know the kind, push buttons everywhere, Jacuzzis on every floor, a satellite dish, wide-screen TV for sports events. I have a cleaning crew who cleans the windows twice a year. There are no shades because I like to look outdoors winter or summer. The views from every window are spectacular. Since there are no immediate neighbors, I have no worries about privacy. This house sits on six acres, all of them wooded except for my lawn. I even have a bubbling or is that babbling brook in the back. There's also a wraparound deck off the family room with a hot tub. I have a lady who comes in daily to clean and cook dinner for me. Her husband does the gardening. It all works for me. Trust me when I tell you there will be a dinner warming in the oven. There will be wine in a chilled bucket along with some sparkling cider for you. Betsy probably used one of the good tablecloths and real napkins. She likes to fuss. Come inside, and I'll give you the tour.” Woodie reached for her hand. Kristine clutched his tightly, an electric current shooting through her body. She wondered if she gave off sparks.

“Oh, this is gorgeous! I love these vaulted ceilings. I bet you have a magnificent Christmas tree. Do you polish the woodwork?”

Woodie blinked. “I have no idea. I don't do it. Maybe Betsy or Frank does it. I wanted everything natural so I wouldn't have to paint every couple of years. Do you think this looks like a man's . . . you know, a bachelor's house?”

“Kind of. Obviously you like leather furniture. I would have picked something in pale gray, a nubby kind of material. A center rug would be nice. It would close in the room a little more and make it cozy. I like cozy. I guess I'm just a nester by instinct. The floors are beautiful, though. The fica trees and all those green plants help a lot. I would imagine your daylight lighting is perfect for growing anything. Did you live here with your first wife?” Kristine sucked in her breath as she waited for his response. She could feel a streak of jealousy start to consume her.

“God, no. We lived in a condo, all glass and chrome. It was black and white. Not one bit of color. Maureen was a black-and-white person. She hates this place. One time I bought her red roses, and she sent them back and asked for white ones. That was a long time ago. You wouldn't have liked her. Hell, I didn't like her, and I was married to her. I was lucky I came out of it in one piece.”

“How long have you been divorced, Woodie?”

“Five years.”

“Where is she now?”

“Why do you want to know, Kristine?”

“Just curious. You don't have to answer the question.”

“She lives in town. I see her once in a while. I suppose you could say we're friends now that we're no longer married. She calls from time to time.”

“I see.”

“What do you see, Kristine?”

“I see that she hasn't let go. I think that happens in divorce a lot. One or the other never seems to want the divorce. It's a process you have to go through. Show me the second floor, then I want you to feed me. All I had was a liverwurst sandwich with pickles for lunch.

“What do you do with five bedrooms, and did you say seven bathrooms?” she asked as she started the long climb up the circular staircase.

“Guests. Friends. The architect said a house like this needed all those things along with a formal dining room for resale value. Someday I might want to sell it to a family with four kids and two dogs. I'm glad you like my house. Can you see yourself living here, Kristine?”

Kristine whirled around. She held up her hands to ward off anything else he was about to say. “It doesn't matter what I think at the moment. I don't want to open up a can of worms I'm not ready to deal with. Didn't we agree . . . ?”

“We didn't agree to anything, Kristine. We need to talk. Seriously talk. You know how I feel about you. I haven't kept my feelings a secret. I suspect you feel something for me besides fondness. We've known each other for over three years. The fact that our friendship has turned into something more serious makes this talk necessary.”

“Woodie, it's too soon. Let's not spoil things. I have a lot of baggage I'm not prepared to deal with just yet. I need time.”

“How much time, Kristine? Are we talking weeks, months, years?”

“I don't know, Woodie. If I could give you an answer, I would. Right now I can't. If you can't accept that, maybe I should go home. I can call Pete to come and pick me up.”

“You've had over three years to come to terms with what Logan has done to you. Three years, Kristine. Three years is a very long time from where I'm sitting. I need some assurances before we let things get out of control.”

“I think you need to explain that statement to me, Woodie.”

“It's simple, Kristine. We aren't kids anymore. I'm going to be forty-seven on my next birthday. You're not far behind me in age. These last three years went by in the blink of an eye. As we get older, the time seems to go faster. I don't know why that is, it just is. I've worked hard all my life and I want to enjoy what's left of it. I want to enjoy it with you. I will not wait around while you wait around for Logan to come back. You aren't being fair to yourself or to me. Logan doesn't even factor into this. If what we have is just fun and games, rolls in the sack, something to take the edge off while you wait for Logan, it won't work with me. That's not what I want.”

“You're setting conditions here, Woodie. I don't like ultimatums.”

“That's a strange statement coming from you. You lived with ultimatums all your married life.”

Kristine's stomach grew queasy. “Where did you hear a thing like that? Oh, I see, that's the kids' version. Well, that was then, this is now. I don't live by that damn book any longer. One of these days I'm going to write a final chapter to that stupid book and get it published. If I can't get it published, I'll have it printed myself. Then, by God, I'm going to send it to every military wife and child I know. Don't push me, Woodie.”

“I'm not pushing you, I'm telling you what I think and what I feel. You, on the other hand, are not telling me anything. Do you still love Logan? Do you still believe he's going to return? Are you just playing a waiting game? I need to know, Kristine, and I don't think I'm being unfair in asking you since I love you and want to marry you. This isn't exactly the way I planned on proposing, but for now it will have to do.”

Kristine wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. This was not what she expected or wanted to hear right now. How could she explain her life and what she was feeling and thinking when she didn't understand it herself? She longed for a drink but forced the thought out of her head as soon as it entered. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands as she fought the tears that were burning her eyelids. Her voice was husky, tortured-sounding. “All I can say, Woodie, is I am trying to come to terms with everything. It's not something I can do because you say I need to do it. I don't know what I feel for Logan. I don't know if in my heart of hearts I'm waiting for him or not. I packed up all the mementos and pictures just last month. That was a tremendous trauma for me, but I did it. I did it because I didn't want you to see all those things when you spent the night at my house. I know it was only one small step. I'll take other small steps along the way. I can't tell you how, why, or when that will happen. I know you deserve more. Unfortunately, right now, I cannot give you more. I think I should go home, Woodie. Will you drive me, or shall I call Pete? Better yet, lend me one of your cars and I'll return it tomorrow. That will be best. I need to think. For some reason, I can't think around you.”