âIâd like you to tell me who that woman is and why she came here looking for you. And Iâd like to know why she thinks sheâs ruined our wedding day.â
âShe claims sheâs the mother of my child, Julia.â
The room tilted and, for a moment, she feared she was going to pass out. Too much excitement, she told herself. Iâm imagining all this.
He sighed. âAnd thereâs more. His mother doesnât want him.â
The heaviness in his voice filled her with foreboding. âWhat else are you trying to tell me, Ben?â
âShe wants me to take him. And if I refuse, sheâll put him up for adoption.â
âSo what did you tell her?â
âYou know the answer, Julia. Iâll take him, of course.â
THE portable phone rang just as he finished shaving. Wedging it in the angle between his shoulder and jaw, he strapped on his watch and headed for the bedroom. âBen Carreras.â
âBen, itâs Marian.â
âHey,â he said, checking the time. âIâm just about ready to leave for the airport, but I wasnât expecting you to get here for another hour. Did you catch an earlier flight?â
âNo,â she said, and something about the pause that followed left the hair bristling up the back of his neck.
âWhatâs up, Marian? Are you okay?â
Another pause, this one, too, fraught with some sort of tension. Then, âI wonât be coming to Vancouver tonight, after all.â
His relief left him feeling slightly ashamed but the fact was, heâd been dreading her visit. When sheâd first mentioned flying in from Calgary to spend New Yearâs Eve with him, he hadnât thought quickly enough to wriggle his way out of it. The truth was, though, the relationship was going nowhere and needed to be brought to an end. Heâd planned to tell her so before she left.
âGee,â he said now, poking his finger in the drink heâd poured earlier and swirling the melting ice cube around, âthatâs too bad. Did something unexpected come up?â
âIn a way.â Another pause, while she cleared her throat. âI canât see you again. Ever.â
It was as if a load of bricks rolled off his back. Fighting to keep the elation out of his voice, he said, âOh? Something I did, or didnât do?â
Her sigh filtered over the long-distance connection, clear as the winter wind likely sweeping through across the prairies even as she spoke. âNo. Itâs just thatâ¦well, I havenât been exactly straight with you. The thing is, Iâm married, Ben.â
He tightened the towel sliding low on his hips and thought it was just as well she couldnât see his grin. âNo kidding! Kind of a sudden decision, wasnât it?â
âNot really. Wayne and I have been together for three years.â
Frowning, he picked up his glass. Something here didnât compute. âYou mean, youâve known him for three years.â
âNo,â she said again. âI mean weâve been married for three years.â
He paused with his drink halfway to his mouth.
âAre you telling me that all the time weâve been seeing each other, youâve had a husband waiting in the wings?â
âYes.â
He swallowed a mouthful of the Scotch to try to rid himself of the sudden bad taste in his mouth. âWhat took you so long to get around to telling me, Marian?â
âIâm sorry. I know I probably should have said something sooner.â
He heard the little-girl wheedling tone in her voice, like a kid hoping if she sounded cute and sorry enough, no one would notice sheâd told one lie after another and finally painted herself into an impossible corner.
âThereâs no âprobablyâ about it,â he said coldly. âIf a guyâs out there gunning for me for getting it on with his wife when heâs not looking, Iâve got a right to know.â
âIt wasnât like that, Ben,â she protested on a hic-cupping little sob. âWhen I met you at the beginning of October, Wayne and I were separated. I thought my marriage was over. But heâs had a change of heart. He wants us to patch things up and give it another go, and so do I.â
Another semi-tearful sniffle gurgled down the line, followed by a manâs voice muttering in the background like a Rottweiler getting set to square off against a poodle. The irate husband putting in his two bitsâ worth, no doubt!
âThereâs no use trying to talk me out of it,â she said hurriedly. âWeâre finished, Ben.â
Damn right, lady! The pity of it is that we ever got started.
âIâm sorry if this hurts you.â