Caught in a Bind Read online

  I pulled at a loose thread until I realized I would have little black beads bouncing all over the floor if I continued. I willed myself to let the thread alone.

  Mac looked across the room where Delia and Curt were talking with Mr. Montgomery. “I never did like her much when we were kids, didn’t miss her at all when her mother died and they moved away right after her graduation. But I’ve got to admit that she’s done all right for herself.”

  “I don’t like her much as an adult,” Jolene said as Delia’s laughter floated above the rumble of conversation. “Look at her, hanging on to Curt like she has a right.”

  Curt had been so low-key about the gallery owner he’d been working closely with that I hadn’t paid any attention to the fact that she was a woman. I wasn’t so small-minded that I reacted negatively to the fact he was working with a woman. I mean, I work with men.

  But now I’d seen the woman.

  SIX

  The reception at City Hall dragged on forever. Every time I heard Delia’s musical laughter play its tune across the room, I stretched my smile wider to hide my hurt.

  “It’ll be okay, Merry,” Edie whispered after one particularly charming laugh floated across the room.

  I blinked back tears.

  When I collected my coat, resigned to the fact that Mac would be taking me home, Curt appeared at my side.

  “Ready to go?” he asked as if we’d separated a mere five minutes ago. I gave him my most haughty expression, but he merely smiled down at me. I automatically smiled back, idiot that I was. I couldn’t even stay mad at the man!

  But as we drove home, I regained all my spleen and then some. By the time we entered the apartment, I was primed.

  “You never even told me you knew Mr. Montgomery!”

  Curt sank comfortably onto the sofa where Whiskers snuggled against him, purring and shedding white fur all over his black dress pants. I started pacing, flinging my arms and ranting, the very picture of what any man would want in a woman.

  “You should have told me!”

  “I thought you knew that the Montgomerys used to live in Amhearst.” He looked surprised at my outburst. “You always seem to know everything at that paper of yours.”

  “Well, I didn’t know this little tidbit.”

  He waved his hand in the air. “It’s no big deal.”

  “And I suppose Delia Big Deal-ia Montgomery is no big deal either?” Just thinking about her raised my internal temperature several degrees.

  Suddenly it dawned on him that I was genuinely angry. And hurt. He looked at me cautiously. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe she’s a big deal? Maybe?” I gave him the most scathing look I could manage. It was quite a stretch for the Saccharine Queen.

  “Well, of course she’s important.”

  “Ha! I knew it!”

  He backtracked. “Well, not important important, of course. Not like you. Just sort of important. Merely a professional contact.”

  I glared at him. “Intimations. Intimations. What kind of a stupid name is that for an art gallery? Sounds like Imitations.”

  “I think the idea is ‘intimations of greatness.’”

  “Oh.” Wouldn’t you know there was logic behind that ridiculous name, and I’d been too blind to see it?

  “Merry, honey, you’re overreacting here. There’s no need to get all in a huff.”

  “You think not?” I huffed. “You ignored me all evening!”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I had to spend the entire reception with Mac!”

  He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, tumbling it into delicious curls. “I should have left you on the front porch in your undies.”

  “It would have been less embarrassing.”

  “What?” Suddenly he was standing, towering over me. “You’re saying I’m an embarrassment?”

  “Yes! No! Not you. Your absence.”

  “I wasn’t absent! I was right there!”

  “But not with me!” I clenched my teeth against my tears.

  He stared at me for a minute. “This is an idiotic conversation.”

  “It is not idiotic! It’s important!”

  “So I talked with Delia. Big deal!”

  “You are so dense,” I shouted. “If you can’t figure out why I’m upset, then I don’t want to talk about it anymore. And I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

  I grabbed my coat and stalked to the front door. “Don’t worry. I have my keys this time.” And I stormed out.

  I stomped to my car and drove off into the night. I did not have to put up with a man who had no sense of how he’d hurt me. I did not.

  I was three blocks from home when it dawned on me that I had stormed out of my own apartment, leaving Curt behind with the warmth, light, food and comfort, to say nothing of Whiskers. I felt the flush of embarrassment envelop my entire body. Now I was not only furious and deeply hurt; I was mortified.

  I pulled up to a stop sign and sat, trying to decide what to do now. A beep from a car behind me pulled me from my blue funk. I drove around a bit more, trying to find a graceful way out of my situation. I finally admitted I had only two basic choices. I could drive around all night, or I could go home.

  The first was stupid; the second was humiliating.

  I sighed. I pictured Curt and Whiskers, lying together on the sofa, eyes closed, gentle snores mingling harmoniously. It was such a peaceful scene.

  I, on the other hand, was driving around town with no place to go, lonely and alone.

  Dear God, what’s wrong with me? How could I have done something this stupid?

  I heard Stephanie Bauer say, as clearly as if she were sitting next to me, “The power of choice.”

  What choice, Father? He left me alone all evening!

  “The power of choice.”

  I didn’t deserve that humiliation, Father.

  “The power of choice.”

  But I have the right to feel upset.

  “The power of choice.”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re saying that I can’t choose how Curt will act, but I can choose how I act, right?

  I sighed. I had chosen to put the worst possible spin on the evening. So Curt had left me alone. It wasn’t very polite, it was embarrassing and it hurt me. But had he meant for me to feel these emotions?

  In all honesty I had to admit that he had not. I had chosen to be embarrassed, to be jealous and nasty. I had chosen to be more concerned about my image and my evening than about Curt’s professional opportunities.

  Not that I didn’t recognize that Delia was trolling for Curt, her hook cleverly hidden in the lure of a showing. But Curt had never given me any cause to doubt his affection for me. In fact he had declared it openly in front of Delia’s father.

  The truth, dear Father, is that I’m afraid. She’s gorgeous. She comes from money. She has two galleries that can help Curt immensely. Why would he want me when he can have her?

  “The power of choice.”

  So I choose to let my fear overwhelm me and make me do crazy things like run out of my own apartment. Or I choose to trust You and him.

  I turned into the parking area beside my apartment, pulling in next to Curt’s car. Thank goodness he was still here. A little of my tension drained away.

  I squared my shoulders and walked to my door, pausing to peek in the window. Curt and Whiskers were together on the sofa, but they weren’t sleeping. At least Curt wasn’t. He was stroking the cat who looked like he’d died and gone to heaven. Curt himself was staring into space, a frown on his brow.

  I knew I had to apologize for my infantile behavior, but I now condemned myself so strongly that I couldn’t imagine him forgiving me. I reached for the door and pushed it open. Curt must have vaulted off the sofa the minute he heard me touch the knob because he met me on the welcome mat. He grabbed me in a great hug.

  “I’m sorry.” I started to cry. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, sweetheart. It was me. You were right. I did ignore y
ou. Please forgive me.”

  “But I was so nasty about it.”

  “But I should never have spent all that time with Delia. It was your night.”

  “Well, I should have been more understanding of how important she is to you and your career.”

  He pulled back and looked at me with a little half smile. “Now we’re going to argue about who’s the sorriest?”

  “Yes.” I snuggled close. “And I win. But you can be a close second if you want.”

  He laughed, led me to the overstuffed chair and sat, pulling me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me again, coat and all.

  We sat quietly like that for a few minutes.

  “I was afraid,” I finally whispered.

  I felt him start. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this. “Afraid?”

  “Of Delia.”

  His arms tightened. “Why?”

  “She’s beautiful!”

  “She’s attractive. You’re beautiful.”

  “She’s rich.”

  He shrugged. “You have a wealth of character.”

  I looked up at him. “You can say that after my performance tonight?”

  He ran his knuckle gently down my cheek. “Everybody has little aberrations now and then.”

  “It’s just she’s part of your world in a way I can never be.” I felt the fear flood me again. I clutched his arm. “That terrifies me.”

  He nodded. “She is part of my professional life, that’s true. But you, my Merry, are my life, my heart.”

  “Oh, Curt.” I cried into his pleated shirt.

  He ran his hand over my hair. “I sat here after you left and thought about my life before and after you came along. I thought about you and your gallant heart, always out to right a wrong or write the best story or fix some problem.”

  “You think I have a gallant heart?” What a wonderful thing to say.

  “And then I thought of all you’ve brought to my life.”

  I thought of all I’d brought too. “Stress, arguments, possessiveness, pettiness. Poor Curt.”

  “Shh, sweetheart.” He laid his finger across my lips. “I’m trying to give you some compliments here.”

  I nodded and rested against his shoulder. “What have I brought you?”

  “Joy. You make me laugh. I hadn’t laughed for several years before you came along. And excitement. There’s always something happening around you. And ulcers. All the excitement, you know.”

  “Ulcers!” I sat up and mock-glared at him.

  He grinned and pulled me back against him. “See? Humor, too. And love.” His voice became tender. “Most importantly, you’ve given me love.”

  After a few quiet minutes, I whispered, “I do love you.”

  “I know. And I love you.” He looked at me solemnly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  His face was so serious I couldn’t begin to guess what was on his mind. “What?”

  He laid his hand on my cheek. “It means you’re going to have to trust me, darlin’ girl.”

  He knew how to go right to the heart of the matter. I sighed and nodded. “‘Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.’”

  He nodded. “‘Always trusts.’”

  “But she’s got her cap set for you, Curt.”

  He made a face. “I know. It’s very awkward. But the show at Intimations is important. The invitations are out.” He took my hand in his. “It’ll only be four more days.”

  I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed each of his fingers. One for each day. “Only four.”

  I tamped down hard on the fear that threatened to gnaw holes in my trust.

  Day One, Sunday, was a quiet day. I went to church and sat shoulder to shoulder with Curt. We were about to stand for the opening song when I felt a presence at the edge of our pew. In disbelief I looked at Mac standing there. He’d come to church three or four times since Christmas Eve and always with Dawn. Now he was alone. We slid over to make room for him.

  “I don’t know any of these songs,” he grumbled during the opening bars of the first song.

  “Then listen and learn,” I encouraged.

  “When they look in the Bible, I can never find where they are.”

  “Use the table of contents in the front.”

  “What do I do if there’s Communion? Am I allowed to take it? How do you do it here? Do you go up front or do they pass it? Never mind. I’ll just sit it out if they have it. Then I can’t offend anyone. Unless sitting it out offends someone. What do you think?” If he hadn’t been so serious, he would have been comical in his extreme distress.

  Curt looked at him with understanding. “Dawn’s still at the hospital, isn’t she?”

  Mac clenched his jaw. “Long labor.”

  Just then Dawn appeared at the end of the pew. The transformation in Mac was immediate and amazing. Gone was the frown, the grousing, the tension. He smiled, he relaxed, he looked happy. Curt and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

  After church the four of us went out for dinner.

  “It was amazing.” Dawn’s brown eyes glowed. “I don’t know how many times I’ve coached one of these kids through the birth, but every time is a miracle.”

  “Boy or girl?” I asked.

  “A little girl with a headful of hair. Allison Ann. A very pretty baby.”

  “Aren’t all babies pretty?” Mac asked.

  Dawn looked at him with a wry smile. “They’re pruney and red and their heads are misshapen.”

  Mac looked surprised. “When I see babies, they look pretty good. They all look the same, but they look okay.”

  “Then you’ve never seen them early on. You’ve been too long a bachelor, guy.”

  “Yeah.” Mac looked at her with his heart in his eyes. “That may be true.”

  Dawn stood. “Excuse me. I need to visit the ladies’ room.”

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Mac said as he watched her walk away. “Inside too.”

  “I didn’t know you were looking for inside beauty in a woman.” I smiled. When I’d first met Mac, I thought of him as Mac the Lecher and was careful to keep him at arm’s length. “You’re developing depth.”

  Mac pointed a finger at me. “She’s smiling again. She’s always smiling. It’s unnatural.”

  Curt looked at me. “Not always. She can get pretty feisty when she wants to. Why just last ni—”

  “Dawn smiles a lot,” I interrupted. Mac didn’t need any information about my unseemly fit of pique last night. He’d just throw it up at me later.

  “Yeah,” Mac agreed, readily forgetting whatever Curt was about to say. “But she’s beautiful when she smiles.”

  “And I’m chopped liver?” But the man was so obviously smitten that I couldn’t take offense.

  “Do you know that she won’t sleep with me?” He was genuinely astounded. “I mean, what is this? Everyone sleeps around. Just my luck I’ve fallen for the only girl on the planet who believes in premarital chastity.”

  “Not the only one,” Curt said.

  Mac looked at me. “You too?”

  I nodded. “Me too.” I pointed my finger at Curt. “Him too.”

  Mac stared at Curt. “What?”

  “Me too,” Curt said. “Well, sure, if she won’t.”

  Curt shook his head. “Not just because of Merry. I’ve always held that position.”

  Mac was incredulous. “You’ve never?”

  We both shook our heads.

  “But why not? Is there something wrong with you? I mean, who’s it hurting?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me, believe me,” Curt said, grinning at me in a way that curled my toes. “I take this position because it’s the Bible’s position.”

  “Amazing.” Mac shook his head. “I’m hanging around with a bunch of throwbacks to the Victorian era. And I’m doing it on purpose.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He looked at Curt and me. Then he glan
ced toward the ladies’ room. “You two I’m not sure about, but her?” He grinned. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but she’s even worth a second virginity.”

  Wow! I wondered if Dawn knew her power.

  When our salads arrived, she still wasn’t back.

  “Let me go get her,” I said. “You guys can start if you want.”

  Curt shook his head as Mac picked up his fork. “We’ll wait.”

  “Right.” Mac quickly set down his fork. “It’s only polite.”

  I found Dawn in the ladies’ room staring at nothing. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. I’m scared.”

  “About what?” But I knew.

  “Mac.”

  “He’s crazy about you.”

  She smiled ruefully. “And I’m glad. That’s what scares me.”

  I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “Dawn, you two don’t have anything in common, certainly nothing important like faith.”

  She nodded. “Tell me something I don’t know. He comes to church once in a blue moon, and he thinks that makes him ‘religious.’ He’s got no concept of real faith. He thinks I go overboard, but he’s willing to overlook it.” She spun around, her sweet face full of anguish. “I don’t want someone who’s noble enough to overlook my faith. I want someone who shares it with me like Curt does with you.”

  Of course she did. Who wouldn’t? “But you care a lot for Mac anyway?”

  She nodded. “Too much. When I made that crack about him being a bachelor too long, I saw his face. And it reflected my heart.” Her chin began to tremble. “I’m really scared, Merry.”

  I gave her a hug, giving her my patented pat on the back. I’m scared for you too, I thought.

  She pulled free and turned to the mirror, checking under her eyes to make certain her teary moment hadn’t made her mascara run.

  “Now listen,” I said. “We’ve got to get back out there. Dinner’ll be on the table any minute, and the guys are going to start wondering what happened to us. But before we go, I’ve got a piece of advice. I spent six years dating the wrong guy before I met Curt. Six years. Don’t make the same mistake, Dawn. The longer you see him, the harder it will be to let go.”