Vanished (8 page)

“We're going home.” Her voice was a croak of terror as her eyes darted between Teddy and the man she thought she saw across the lake, as though she were still not sure of what she was seeing.

“Now?” Teddy looked as though he might cry. “We just got here. I don't want to go home. Can't we go to the Carousel?”

'I'm sorry …well go for a drive …the zoo …tea …maybe the skaters …” anything to get away from here. As she stood there, her whole body began shaking. But as she tried to lead the child away, the man she had seen ran as fast as he could around the lake, coming toward them. And as he reached her, his black hair was disheveled, his eyes looked wild, and she saw with dismay that she knew she hadn't been mistaken. As Teddy saw the look on his mother's face, he was suddenly frightened. His mother had always instilled in him a vague terror about strangers, and this one looked particularly dreadful. He was tall and disheveled and he seemed to swoop down on them breathlessly, and without warning, he grabbed both of Marielle's shoulders in his hands, looked her in the eye, and then stared down at Teddy. But at least she knew now she wasn't mad. She hadn't dreamed him. It was Charles, and then she remembered how close the boat pond was to the Delauney mansion. He had had a long drunken, sleepless night himself, and had come out for some air to sober up before a meeting with his father's lawyers.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at her, and then at the boy. “And who is that?” There was something of Andre in his face, and yet he was so different. There was something almost angelic about this child's face, it was a face you wanted to kiss, with eyes that made you want to laugh the moment you saw him.

“This is Teddy,” she said quietly, her voice still shaking.

“Teddy who?” He stared at her accusingly, and she suspected instantly that he was not entirely sober. “This is Teddy Patterson.” She straightened her chin and looked Charles in the eye. He couldn't do this to her, couldn't make her feel guilty again, couldn't ruin her life … or could he? …”My son.” Teddy held tightly to her hand wondering who the man was. He thought he looked pretty scary.

“You didn't tell me that yesterday. You only told me about Malcolm.” His eyes bore into hers so hard it was almost painful to meet his gaze, but nonetheless she met it. She was braver than Malcolm thought. But Charles had always known that.

“It didn't seem the time or place to tell you.”

“Why not?” He was accusing her again. He was angry at her. “Why didn't you tell me?” She knew his anger too well. It was the same anger which, nine years before, had almost killed her.

“It seemed unfair to tell you about him yesterday.”

“And now?” His eyes were furious and his face was right next to hers, as Teddy watched in terror. In a minute, he was going to scream, if he could, if only to protect her. “Is it unfair?” Charles asked again, this time louder, seeming very drunk now. But she was calm, and in total control. She had Teddy with her, and she was not going to let Charles hurt them. No matter what had happened in the past, he no longer scared her. She could not let him.

“I don't think we should discuss this now.” She pulled Teddy closer to her, and gently touched his face so he wouldn't be afraid. But it only seemed to make Charles more angry. He was still such a striking-looking man, and she still felt weak in the knees when she looked at him, but he seemed so out of control now.

“Why do you have a child?” He shouted at her as she tried not to flinch, so she wouldn't frighten Teddy. “What do I have?”

“I don't know …your battles in Spain …your beliefs …your friends …your writing …if you have nothing else, perhaps that's a choice you made.” She was desperate not to discuss it in front of Teddy, but she was afraid just to walk away and make Charles even more angry. She held tightly to the child's hand, trying to give him courage with her pressure.

“That's a choice
you
made, seven years ago when you left me,” Charles shot at her. “You made that choice for me. We could have had more children.”

“We have to go now.” She began to cry as she said the words and Teddy stared at them, wondering what it all meant as she spoke to Charles again, this time more softly. “What kind of life could we have had? You hated me, and you were right then, I hated myself too …maybe I always will …but Charles, I couldn't have stood it. I couldn't have looked you in the eye, knowing how you felt about me.” She had told him all that seven years ago, before she left Europe.

“I told you I wanted you back,” he said stubbornly.

“It was too late then.” She took a breath and wiped her eyes, forgetting Teddy for an instant. “I think you'd always have blamed me, just as I blamed myself.”

She had still loved him in some ways, but she could never have stayed with him, not after what happened.

Charles looked down at Teddy then, as though he still could not believe he even existed. He was a beautiful child, in some ways, even more beautiful than Andre. And then Charles looked at Marielle again, wanting desperately to hurt her. “You don't deserve this,” he raised his voice to her, and for an insane moment, he wanted to slap her. Why had she married again? Why did she have this child? Why in God's name had she left him? But they both knew why, and perhaps it could never have been any different. “You don't deserve him,” he said with the cruelty she still remembered. It was the other side of their great love, the side that had battered her before she left him.

“Perhaps not.”

“You shouldn't have left me.”

“I had no choice. If I'd stayed, it would have killed me.” And he knew that was true too. They had both gone more than a little crazy. She with attempted suicides, he with his wild attack on her the night it happened. But they had both been so mortally wounded by what had happened.

“Perhaps we would all have been better off dead. …” There were tears in his eyes now too, as Teddy drew even closer to his mother.

“That's a terrible thing to say.'

“For you, maybe …you have a life now … a husband … a child. And why should you? Why should you, dammit, when I still wake up every day thinking of him …and of you …wishing I had died with him. Do you ever think of him? Do you ever remember … or is it all forgotten?” But as he said the words, fury suddenly raged in her eyes. Fury born of years of pain and anguish, about which Charles knew nothing.

“How dare you? There isn't a day that I don't remember, that I don't think about him …that I don't see his face if I close my eyes … or even yours. …” Just as she had seen them the night before as she lay sleepless, remembering, fighting herself not to call him. “But nothing is going to bring him back, no matter how badly we destroy our lives now, or each other. He's gone …he's at peace …perhaps it's time for us to be at peace too.”

“I will never be at peace without you.” He raged at her, looking young again, and this time she smiled at him, and shook her head. In some ways, despite the fact that he was older, he seemed even more childish. He hadn't gone on, hadn't grown, hadn't healed, he had just stayed there, doing the same crazy things he had done as a boy, playing the expatriate, fighting other people's wars, and in some ways, hiding from being a grown-up.

“That's a stupid thing to say. You don't even know who I am now. Or maybe even who I was then. Maybe it would have all died a normal death anyway, if things had been different.” She looked down at Teddy then, and smiled at him, and pulled him close beside her. “Teddy, this is an old friend. His name is Charles, and sometimes he acts a little crazy, but he's a nice man. Would you like to say hello?” Teddy shook his head firmly and hid in the folds of her fur coat. They had spoken much too freely, but at four, a lot of it had missed him. The tone hadn't, the anger, the passion, but the history was too complicated for him to follow.

“I'm sorry if I frightened him.” He looked briefly remorseful, but still like a madman. He hadn't shaved since the day before, and everything about him looked wild and woolly.

“You should be. And for what? Can you really hold this against me?” He looked at her and then at the boy long and hard, and when he looked back at her, the look in his eyes hadn't mellowed. Instead he frightened her more, and he seemed even drunker. For the first time in a long time, she knew real terror. It reminded her of the bad times when Charles had become a stranger.

“He should be mine. By all rights … he should be.” He was staring hard at Teddy, hidden in her coat, and Marielle looked at Charles firmly.

“But he isn't yours, Charles.”

“What right did you have to move on … to do this … to have a child without me?” As he said the words, his fury seemed to be growing.

“You agreed to the divorce, I had every right.” She refused to be bullied.

“You said that if I didn't, it would kill you.”

“It nearly did.” And they both knew she meant it.

“I'd rather you were dead than have this child without me.” His eyes were like daggers into her heart as he said it, and she shrunk back from him, frightened and disgusted, wondering how she had ever loved him, reminded of how irrational he could be, and why she had left him.

“Charles, stop it.” He reached out and grabbed her arm then, and Teddy let out a small shriek and jumped behind her. “You're frightening the child. It's not fair.
Stop it!”

“I don't give a damn. He's mine … by all rights, he should be.”

“Stop!” She spat the word at him, no longer afraid of him or anyone as she wrenched her arm free. She was not going to watch her life fall around her. “He's not yours, and neither am I …and Andre wasn't ours either. No one belongs to anyone else in this world. We all belong to God, and we're here on loan to each other …and when the loan is up, it's over …and it's terrible …and it hurts like hell …and sometimes it comes much too soon …but we didn't own him …you didn't own me, or I you …and I don't own Teddy.”

“You love him, don't you?”

“Of course I do.”

“And he loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have that, and I have nothing?”

“Maybe because I'm lucky. Or maybe because Malcolm felt sorry for me … or maybe just because that's the way it is, or I'm willing to pay a price you aren't.”

“And what price is that? What price did you pay to marry him?” She had married a man she didn't love and who didn't love her and she knew it. It was not as easy as one might have thought. But it was also something Charles would never even have considered doing for a moment. “What exactly did you give up when you married him?”

Hope …love …tenderness …the kind of love and passion they had once shared …the kind of love that she knew existed. “Everybody gives up something when they get married.” Out of loyalty to Malcolm, she would never have told Charles the truth. “Perhaps I gave up the past.”

“I'm deeply impressed by your sacrifice,” he said scornfully, glaring at her through the booze.

“I'm deeply impressed by your behavior. You're as bad as ever.” He had upset Teddy and her, and they had resolved nothing. There was nothing to resolve anymore. It was over. “There's no reason to do this to me, or yourself. What do you think you're going to accomplish?” But he was staring at Teddy again, and the way he looked at him made her nervous. He was like that when he drank. It had happened in the old days too, he would drink too much and stay drunk all night and the next morning, and finally go more than a little crazy. He had destroyed an entire hotel room once, and a bar, and a restaurant, and nearly killed two men … and her, but only once. Only once …but she knew what he was capable of. It was hard to forget it.

“I apologize.” He looked at her unhappily, but he didn't sound as though he meant it. He looked down at Teddy then, who was peeking around his mother. “I apologize to you too, young man. I have been extremely rude to you and your mother. It's a bad habit I have, but I've known her for a long time, almost since we were children.” They had almost been children then. Eighteen and twenty-three …My God, they'd been babies. And then he looked at Teddy more seriously. “One day, I would like to get to know you.” Teddy didn't look as though he reciprocated the feeling, but he nodded politely. “I had a little boy once too … his name was Andre. …” Charles's eyes filled with tears as he looked at Marielle again. “I'm sorry …maybe it's just because yesterday was so difficult …and seeing you …dammit …” He looked away and sniffed to try to clear his head. “Why is it always just there? Why does it hurt so damn much? Is it like that for you too?” He looked at her questioningly, but he was calmer again, and she nodded.

She had told him that at church the day before too, but he'd forgotten. And he'd started drinking the moment he left her.

“We should go back now,” she said again. “It's getting late.” Teddy had to have lunch, and go to the birthday party he was attending with Miss Griffin. In the end, it hadn't been much of a morning. In fact, it had been horrendous. And she was sorry. Her time with Teddy was so precious. “I'm sorry we ran into you like this.” It had been easier the day before, before he knew about her son. Now he was filled with anger and resentment. All during the night, he had drowned himself in alcohol and self-pity. But now he had set his feelings ablaze with the incendiary fumes of jealousy and fury.

“I'm leaving next week. I decided yesterday. Will you see me?”

She shook her head, holding Teddy's hand firmly in her own.

“Why not?”

“You know why. You're angry at me anyway, if we see each other it will just make things worse. Why torture ourselves with what we can't have now?”

“Who's to say what we can't have? You're not happy, it's written all over you. You're nervous, taut, wound up like a tight screw, your insides all tied in a knot. We can have anything we damn well want, if we've got the guts to take it” He seemed threatening somehow, when he said it.

“That's a nice attitude, Charles.”

“I can do whatever I damn well please.”

“How fortunate for you.”

“I want you.”

“Don't say that.” Her eyes blazed at him. “And even if you do, so what? We 'take it,' as you put it, and you leave and go back to Spain. Where would that leave me?” She was trying to reason with him, but it wasn't easy in the state he was in.