Just One Night, page 9
Zach leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at Annie. “That one incident hurt more than all the others. Probably because after that I steeled myself for further rejection. He missed my eighth-grade graduation because Kent was born that night. He missed the final sectional baseball game because Nora came home from the hospital that day. But the kindergarten thing—that hurt the most.” Raw emotion flooded Zach. “I never forgot it.”
Annie covered his hand with hers and squeezed. When he managed to open his eyes, he saw tears in hers. He didn’t know until she raised her fingers to his cheeks that his own were wet.
“That story explains a lot,” she said simply. “All along, I thought you not wanting your own children was because of the responsibility you had for your brothers and sisters. That wasn’t why, was it?”
“No. Not all of it, anyway. The worst part was the neglect. It sounds so stupid now, so trite.”
“It’s not stupid.” She rubbed her knuckles on his cheek. “That’s why you were so impressed by your uncle Cary.”
“I know. I was so happy when he moved his architectural firm back to Massachusetts when I was fifteen.”
“And you were his favorite?”
“I was named after him. Cary was short for Zachary. Apparently he and Aunt Linda couldn’t have kids so he took an interest in me. He came to all my games, he took me to his office and I was enthralled by the big drafting tables, slide rules and sketching equipment.” Zach smiled. “I remember the first time I went to his golf club. I was so impressed.”
“What was Linda’s attitude toward all this?”
“She adored Cary. He was her whole life and she’d do anything for him. Anything he asked. She accepted me as a surrogate son as easily as he did.”
“She was probably your idea of the perfect wife.”
“Could be.”
Annie sank back onto the couch. “Everything makes a lot more sense now—where your expectations came from, where you got your ideas for the kind of life you wanted.” She was quiet for a while. “I knew, of course, that you were close to Cary before he retired to Florida. But why didn’t you ever tell me this story about your dad?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I ever put it all together until now. But when my father walked out of the kitchen today, it was like standing in front of him on the stone steps and realizing he didn’t care enough to remember about school. About me.”
“He cared, Zach. He was just busy.”
“With the other kids.” Zach’s hand clenched on her stomach. “I never did want any children, Annie,” he admitted. “I told you I just wanted to wait, but I never really wanted any.”
“And now?” Annie asked. “What about now?”
Zach felt as if every nerve ending in his body was exposed. “I want this baby. I swear. I’ve changed. Your leaving me...the collapse of the building and the death of that woman...I want different things from life now.” Studying her face, he raised his hand to her mouth and brushed her lips with the pad of his thumb. “Give me a chance, Annie. Please.”
Annie leaned into his hand, closed her eyes and listened to his hoarsely uttered plea. Could she do what he was asking? Could she agree to try to make their relationship work? It wasn’t as though she was agreeing to marry him. Or even sleep with him.
She opened her eyes and watched him as he looked at her. His face was so taut with strain it broke her heart.
He needed her, and Annie knew she needed him. Not only for the baby. Annie needed another chance with Zach. A real one. With promises.
Slowly, she brought his hand to her mouth. She kissed his knuckles. They were scraped and rough on her lips.
“I’m willing to try again,” she told him. “We should take it slow, one step at a time, but I want to give our relationship another chance. I want to see if we can make it this time.”
“For the baby?” he asked, his voice husky.
Turning his hand, she linked it with one of hers and stared into blue eyes that would always be her undoing. “No, not for the baby. For me. I love you, Zach.”
Leaning over, he rested his forehead against hers. She heard him expel a deep breath. He’d been anxious, expecting another rejection. “I love you, too.”
Annie’s throat clogged. Gently, she kissed his eyelids, his jaw, his ear, then rested her face in the crook of his neck. She inhaled, the scent so familiar it made her ache. She kissed him there, too. His hand came up her back. She could feel his mouth in her hair.
He stroked her hair from shoulder to waist, then slipped his hand underneath the collar of her shirt to rub her upper back. It felt so good, so familiar. He eased back on the couch, taking her with him, holding her close against him, keeping the gentle massage. The Chinese masseuse had dealt with Annie’s morning sickness through breathing techniques, but had shown Zach pressure points on Annie’s neck and lower back to help with the soreness that would be caused by the changes in her body. She closed her eyes again, savoring the strength of his fingers, the tenderness of his hands. Nestling into him, she placed her ear over his heart. It was pumping fast and she smiled. Slowly, she undid two buttons of his shirt and eased her hand inside. Coarse hair, a shade darker than the gold strands on his head, wound familiarly around her fingers. His grip tightened on her waist and he sucked in a breath.
“That feels so good. I love having your hands on me again.”
“I always loved touching you.” She explored his whole chest, sliding her palm around each muscle. When she whisked his nipples, he stiffened.
“Should I stop?”
“I’ll die if you do.”
She did stop, for a moment. “I don’t want to tease you. I’m sorry, I’m not ready. We need to work some more on our relationship before we make love again.”
“What about the night of the collapse?”
“That was different. We were both overwrought, we both needed comfort. And that night, it felt like life could be snuffed out at any minute.”
He waited a long minute. “Don’t stop anyway. I’ll take a cold shower when I get home.”
She giggled, the action shimmying her breasts against him. She moaned and this time he laughed.
“You’re gonna need one, too, sweetheart,” he said, taking his hand from her hair and moving it to the front of her blouse. “Turnabout’s fair play.” His hand poised over her shirt. “Can I at least touch you? With some degree of intimacy?”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
Still he hesitated. “The books say your breasts get tender during pregnancy. Will it hurt if I touch you there?”
“No, it will feel good.”
He drew back and looked into her eyes. His were dark, dark blue. Releasing the buttons of her blouse, he looked down. For a minute, she was aware of the plain, white cotton bra she wore, so different from the wispy, colorful little things he used to love.
“It’s a maternity bra,” she said into his chest.
“It’s beautiful.” She rolled her eyes. “You don’t like it?”
“Nope.”
“Well, then.” He slid his hand under the hem of her shirt and flicked the clasp open in the back. “Let’s get rid of it.”
When he pulled the strap off one shoulder, she said, “You’re shameless.”
“Hey, you’re the one who taught me how to do this in college.” Inching his hand up underneath a sleeve, he tugged the strap down her arm, past her elbow and expertly drew it over her hand. “I got great at undressing you beneath your clothes when we were in inconvenient places.”
He repeated his action on the other arm.
“Like the front seat of the car in the dorm parking lot,” she said as he brought his palm to her chest.
“Your mother’s kitchen when she was upstairs.”
“Remember the time you stuffed one of my bras in your suit pocket?”
He removed her bra through the opening of her shirt, and chuckled. “The leopard one. I pulled it out in front of my father on graduation day, and he...” The teasing expression fled Zach’s face when he looked down at her. “Oh, Annie.” His voice was ragged and husky. “You are so lovely.”
He covered her breast with his palm. The calluses there abraded the tender flesh and she pressed into it. “Zach...”
He stopped. “Does it hurt?”
“No. It feels good.”
He massaged her gently, and just as gently he rolled a nipple between his fingers.
She started. “Oh, Zach.” Raising her head, she said, “I missed you so much. I can’t believe this is real. That you’re here and we’re together again.”
“I’m here, Annie. I always will be.”
“Promise?”
He lowered his mouth to hers. “I promise.”
CHAPTER SIX
How could he miss the first game of the season?
Annie still couldn’t believe he hadn’t shown up. All through the morning, she’d held on to her faith in him. He’ll be here, she thought as the kids donned their spanking-new red jerseys with City Slickers emblazoned in stark white—she wore one too that said Coach—and proudly examined their cleats, bats and gloves. Zach had bought more equipment than they’d ever need. He was generous with his money. Apparently, it was his time that he couldn’t spare as easily. He’d already missed the mid-July Community Festival parade, and the game was half over. Still, she was hoping he’d get there for the last innings. Fool.
“Annie, what should we do?” her little team captain asked.
She forced her attention back to the game. “What do you mean, Sam?”
“There’s a man on first and one on second. Should we go for it or bunt?”
Annie had no idea.
“Geez, I sure wish Zach was here,” the boy said ruefully.
So do I. “I’m sure he has a good reason for not being here, Sam.” His good reason was probably work. “Tell the batter to go for it.”
Annie watched the play. She’d made the wrong choice, and the side retired with no score. They trailed the other team, five to two.
“What good does it do?” she heard José tell Tommy as they gathered up their gloves. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere without a good coach.” He looked apologetically at Annie, then said with typical ten-year-old disgust, “All the fancy shirts in the world don’t make us win a game.” The boy spat on the ground and took the field. Eight others followed, heads down, gaits snail-paced.
Discouraged, Annie settled onto the bench. Tommy was right. An insidious fear stole over her. Is this the kind of father Zach would be? Generous with his money but not his time?
At the end of the ninth, the City Slickers had lost by one run. Annie tried to console them with ice cream at the local take-out stand, but the atmosphere was morose. By the time she got home, she felt like crying.
She let Daisy out and made her way to the staircase before she noticed her cell phone on the table. She was tempted not to see if there was a message on it from Zach, but she’d given him half her heart already and couldn’t resist hearing his excuses. Just like before. As she clicked into her messages, a tiny voice inside her nagged, “Aren’t you glad you haven’t given it all yet—your body and soul—if this is what it’s going to be like?”
“Annie, hi. It’s me.” He sounded annoyed. “I’m sorry, I’m at the office. The guys I hired to do a mathematical mock-up of the museum design finally called and wanted to get started today. The computerized simulation will give us more information on the collapse. I’ve been meeting with them all morning. It’s...” She could picture him checking his watch. His Rolex. “It’s ten o’clock now. Maybe you can’t hear your cell. I’m going to try to make it for the game, but I’ll miss the parade.” He swore. “I’m sorry, honey...” He said a quick goodbye.
Annie switched off the phone, but she couldn’t stop the tears. She was feeling better physically now that she was beginning her second trimester and the nausea had abated, but her emotions were still roller-coaster rocky.
“Stupid,” she told herself as she let Daisy in, then trudged upstairs and ran bathwater. “This is a stupid thing to cry about. His whole future is at stake. How important is one little game?”
The house phone rang as she shed her clothes. She didn’t answer. It rang again as she was stepping out of the tub. She let the phone go a second time as she donned a white eyelet nightgown.
As she climbed into bed, she put her hand over her belly. “This isn’t his fault, sweetheart. It’s just that I’m disappointed. I thought things would be different this time. Or at least that his absence wouldn’t hurt as much. But it’s really not his fault. We’re just so mismatched in our expectations, and what’s important to us.” Annie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “And this time there’s more at stake than just another business deal. This time his whole career is at risk.” She patted her stomach. “He’ll be better with you, though. He won’t miss your games or your dance recitals. I promise.”
Spurred by her promise to the baby, when the phone rang a third time, she answered it.
“Hi, honey, it’s me.”
“Hi.” Annie tried to infuse some warmth into her voice.
“I’m so sorry I missed the game. Who won?”
“The Scorpions.” She sighed. “I’m not much of a coach, I guess.”
“No, sweetheart, the loss is my fault. I’m still at the office. There was a glitch in the computer program, and the guys just got it under way. We’re running the mock-up now.”
“I see. So you don’t have any information on the collapse?” She was hoping for some good news, at least.
“No, and I won’t for hours. I’ll be here well into the night.”
“Well, good luck.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He waited a moment. “I love you, Annie.”
“I know. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Annie hung up, turned off the light and slid down into bed. She tried to think of good things—the baby, Zach smiling when she’d told him she was pregnant. He was happy about the baby, wasn’t he? He would be there for her, wouldn’t he? He was going to follow through, wasn’t he?
But doubts, like ghosts in the night, haunted her. And, as usual, when she felt the most unsure, when she was the most vulnerable, the worst of her nightmares, the worst of her memories came back. When they’d divorced, and for months afterward, Annie had purposely conjured the memory that would keep her from calling him and telling him she wanted another chance to make their relationship work. Tonight, she tried to banish unpleasant images, but they came back on their own, taunting her, making her question whether or not she’d made the right choice about letting Zach back into her life...
Annie had cried all day over the vicious fight she and Zach had had. She’d had another pregnancy scare...and he’d accused her of doing it intentionally this time. They’d screamed at each other until 3:00 a.m. and he’d left for work before she woke up that morning. She’d gotten her period at seven o’clock that night and decided to go to his office to tell him the good news. And to make up.
Most of the employees of Belton Associates had left for the day, and there was no secretary in the outer office, which Zach shared with four other junior architects. Light shone from under his door, though it was closed. She reached for the handle, surprised it was locked. Her spine tingled and something made her shiver. Knocking lightly, she called out, “Zach, it’s me, Annie. Are you in there?”
She thought she heard voices and wondered if he was working with the radio or television on, as he often did. It took an unusually long time to open the door. When he did, she noticed three things about him: his blue eyes were glistening with an emotion she couldn’t name; his shoulders were tense; and the buttons on his crisp white shirt were unevenly matched.
Behind him, his colleague, Gina Lawrence, stood looking out the window, her back to them.
“Zach?”
“Annie.” His voice was gruff.
Maneuvering around him, Annie walked into the office. A long, supple leather couch took up one whole wall, its upholstery indented. From underneath peeked a pair of forest green pumps. The low coffee table in front of the sofa was oddly angled, the papers pushed onto the floor. Turning to look at Zach’s associate, Annie wasn’t surprised to see her dressed in a dark green suit.
Swinging around, Annie was wide-eyed. “Zach?” Her voice was thick with tears. “Tell me...” She stopped briefly. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
He took a step toward her, his eyebrows furrowed, breathing heavily. “Annie, I...you don’t understand. I...”
She scanned his face. It was flushed. Closer now, she saw long, thin red marks below his jaw, on his throat. Reaching out, she skimmed the scratches. “No, please, Zach.”
