Under the Summer Sky

9

“Her name was Marie.”

“Marie,” Janine repeated the name as though she’d never heard it before.

“We met in Europe when I was on assignment with the armed forces. She spoke five languages fluently and helped me learn my way around two of them in the time we worked together.”

“She was in the military with you?”

“I was army, she worked for the secret service. We were thrown together for a top-secret project that was only supposed to last a few days and instead dragged on for weeks.”

“This was when you fell in love with her?” The ache inside her chest wouldn’t go away. Her heart felt weighed down with the pain.

“We both were aware that the assignment was a dangerous one, and our working closely together was essential.” He paused, sighing deeply. “To make a long story short, I fell in love with her. But she didn’t love me.”

“Then what?”

“I wanted her to leave the secret service and marry me. She wasn’t interested. If you insist on knowing the details, I’ll give them to you.”

“No.”

Zach took a sip of his wine. “I left the army soon after that. I didn’t have the heart for it anymore. Unlike Marie—her work, with all its risks, was her whole life. She was the bravest and most dedicated woman I’ve ever known. Although it was painful at the time, she was right to turn down my proposal. Marriage and a family would have bored her within a year. It was painful, don’t misunderstand me. I loved her more than I thought possible.”

They both were silent for a moment, then Janine asked, “What did you do once you left the army?”

“Over the years, I’d managed to put aside some money, make a few investments. Once I was on my own, I decided to go into business for myself. I read everything I could get my hands on about the business-supply field and modeled the way I dealt with my clients and accounts after your grandfather’s enterprise. Within five years, I was his major competitor. We met at a conference last year, and decided that instead of competing with each other, we’d join forces. And as they say, the rest is history.”

“Was she pretty?” Even as she asked the question, Janine knew it was ridiculous. What difference would it make if his Marie was a former Miss America or had a face like a gorilla? None. Zach had loved Marie. Loved her as he’d probably never love again. Loved her more than he’d thought possible. By comparison, what he felt for her, Janine, was indeed only fondness.

“She was blond and, yes, she was beautiful.”

Janine made a feeble attempt at a smile. “Somehow I knew that.”

Zach shook himself lightly as if dragging himself back to the present and away from the powerful lure of the past. “You don’t need to worry. It was a long time ago.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Janine muttered. She got to her feet and collected their wineglasses. “I’m a little tired. If you don’t mind, I’ll go to bed now.”

Zach was still staring into the fire and Janine doubted he’d even heard her. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know he was thinking of the beautiful Marie.

No more than ten minutes after she’d turned off her bedroom light, Janine heard Zach move down the hallway to his room. For a moment she thought he’d hesitated in front of her door, but Janine convinced herself that was just wishful thinking.

From the second Zach had told her about the one great love of his life, Janine had felt as if a lump were building inside her. A huge lump of disillusionment that seemed to be located somewhere between her heart and her stomach. With every breath she took, it grew larger. But why should she care about Marie? Zach had never confessed to any deep feeling for her. He hadn’t cheated Janine out of anything that was her right.

An hour later, she lay on her side, wide awake, her hands pressed to her stomach. She didn’t mind that Zach had loved another woman so deeply, but what did hurt was that he could never love her with the same intensity. Marrying her, he’d claimed, made practical and financial sense. He was fond of her.

Like a romantic idiot, Janine had been frolicking through their short marriage, confident that they’d soon be in love with each other and live happily ever after with their two-point-five children in their perfect little home with the white picket fence.

Zach had loved Marie, who’d dedicated herself to her country.

The most patriotic thing Janine had ever done was cast her vote at election time. She didn’t think she should include the two occasions she’d made coffee at Red Cross meetings.

Marie was a linguist. After two years of high-school French, Janine wasn’t bad at conjugating verbs, but got hopelessly lost in real conversations.

“I had to ask,” she groaned to herself. She was almost certain that Zach would never have mentioned Marie if she hadn’t forced the subject. How blissful her ignorance had been. How comfortable.

She could never be the great love of his life and would always remain in the background. Far in the background...

When Janine heard Zach moving around the house a few hours later, she rolled over and glanced at the clock, assuming it was the middle of the night. Then she noticed it was midmorning; they’d planned to be on the road before now. Tossing aside the blankets, she stumbled out of bed and reached blindly for her robe. But she wasn’t paying attention. She collided with the wall and gave a shout of pain. She cupped her hand over her nose and closed her eyes. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.

“Janine.” Zach pounded on the door. “Are you all right?”

“No,” she cried, still holding her nose. She looked in the mirror and lowered her hand. Just as she’d suspected, her nose was bleeding.

“Can I come in?” Zach asked next.

“No...go away.” She hurried to the adjoining bathroom, tilting back her head and clamping both hands over her nose.

“You sound funny. I’m coming in.”

“No,” she hollered again. “Go away.” She groped for a washcloth. The tears rained down now, more from humiliation than pain.

“I’m coming in,” Zach shouted, his voice distinctly irritated.

Before Janine could protest, the bedroom door flew open and Zach stalked inside. He stopped in the bathroom doorway. “What happened?”

Pressing the cold cloth over the lower half of her face with one hand, Janine gestured violently with the other, demanding that he leave.

“Let me look at that,” he said, obviously determined to deal with her bloody nose, as well as her anger. He pushed gently against her shoulders, lowering her onto the edge of the tub, and carefully removed the cloth.

“What did you do? Meet up with a prizefighter?”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me!” The tears ran down her cheeks again and plummeted on her silk collar.

It took only a minute or so to control the bleeding. Zach seemed to know exactly what to do. Janine no longer had any desire to fight, and she allowed him to do what he wanted.

Zach wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Without waiting for an answer, Zach brought his mouth to hers. Janine felt herself go completely and utterly still. Her heart started to explode and before she realized what she was doing, she’d linked her arms around his neck and was clinging to him helplessly. Zach kissed her forehead and her eyes. His thumbs brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks. Then he nuzzled her neck. Trembling, she immersed herself in his tenderness. No matter what had happened in the past, Zach was hers for this minute, this day.

He lifted Janine to her feet and seemed to be leading her toward the bed. She might have been tempted to let him if she hadn’t learned about his love for Marie. Knowing she’d always place a remote second in his affections was a crippling blow to her pride—and her heart. It would take time and effort to accept that she could never be the woman who evoked an all-consuming passion in him.

With that thought in mind, she pushed him away, needing to put some distance between them before it was too late.

Accepting Janine’s decision, Zach dropped his arms and moved to lean against the doorjamb, as if he needed its support to remain upright.

Janine couldn’t look at him, couldn’t speak. She began fumbling with her clothes.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to dress while I begin loading the car,” Zach said a moment later, sounding oddly unlike himself.

Janine nodded miserably. There was nothing she could say. Nothing she could do. He’d wanted to make love to her, and she’d turned him away.

While he packed the car, Janine dressed. She met him fifteen minutes later, her suitcase in hand. She was determined to act cool toward him. But not too cool. Friendly, she decided, but not excessively so.

“I’m ready,” she announced, with her most cheerful smile.

Zach locked the house, and they were on their way. Pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary, Janine chatted amicably during the drive home. If Zach noticed anything amiss, he didn’t comment. For his part, he seemed as hesitant as she was to talk about what had happened. They seemed to be of one mind about the morning’s incident. The whole thing was best forgotten.

Only once did Zach refer to it. He asked her if her nose was causing her any pain, but she quickly assured him she was fine. She flashed a smile bright enough to blind him and immediately changed the subject.

The Seattle sky was gray and drizzling rain when they pulled into the parking garage at the downtown condominium owned by Zach. Silently, she helped him unload the car. They were both unusually quiet as they rode the elevator to the tenth floor.

Zach paused outside his door and eyed her skeptically. “Am I obliged to haul you over the threshold again, or is once enough?”

“Once is enough.”

“Good.” He grinned and unlocked the door, then pushed it open for her to precede him. Curious, she quickened her pace as she walked inside. The living room was a warm mixture of leather and wood, and its wide window offered a breathtaking view of the Seattle skyline.

“It’s lovely.”

He nodded, seeming pleased at her reaction. “If you prefer, we can move. I suppose now that we’re married, we should think about purchasing a house.”

“Why?” she inquired innocently.

“I’m hoping we’ll have children someday. Whenever you’re ready, that is. There’s no pressure, Janine.”

“I...know that.” She looked past him at the panoramic view, and wrapped her arms around herself, her heart speeding up at his words.

Walking to his desk, Zach listened to his voice mail messages; apparently there were a lot.

While he did that, Janine wandered from room to room, eager to see her new home. In the hallway, she noted that Zach had diplomatically left her luggage on the carpet between the two bedrooms. His was in the master. In his own way, he was telling her that where she slept would be her decision. If she wished to become his wife in the fullest sense, all she had to do was place her suitcase in the master bedroom. Nothing more needed to be said.

It didn’t take Janine long to decide. She pulled her suitcase toward the guest room. When she looked up, Zach was standing in the hall, studying her, his expression aggrieved.

“Unless you need me for anything, I’m going to the office,” he said gruffly.

“See you tonight.”

His gaze moved past her and rested briefly on the bed in the guest room. He cocked one eyebrow questioningly, as though to give her the opportunity to reconsider. “Are you sure you’d rather sleep in here?” he asked.

“I’m sure.”

Zach raked his fingers through his hair. “I was afraid of that.”

A minute later, he was gone.

Zach didn’t come home for dinner that night. Janine had been in the bathroom when the phone rang; Zach had left her a message saying he’d be late. So she ate by herself in front of the television, feeling abandoned and unloved. She was just putting the dishes in the dishwasher when he came home.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay,” she lied, never having felt more alone.

Zach glanced through the mail on his desk, although Janine was sure he’d looked at it earlier. “You got the message I wouldn’t be home for dinner?”

“Yes. Did you want anything to eat? I could fix you something.”

“I ate earlier. Thanks, anyway.”

They watched an hour’s worth of television and then decided to go to bed.

Janine changed into her pajamas—the same no-nonsense type she’d been wearing all week, since she couldn’t bring herself to wear the baby-dolls Pam had given her—and had just finished washing her face. She was coming out of the bathroom, her toothbrush between her teeth, when she nearly collided with Zach in the hallway. She’d forgotten her slippers and was going to her bedroom to retrieve them. They’d already said their good-nights, and Janine hadn’t expected to see him again until morning. She wasn’t prepared for this encounter, and the air between them crackled with tension.

She had to force herself not to throw her toothbrush aside. Not to tell him that she longed for him to love her with the same passion he’d felt for Marie.

His hands reached out to steady her, and when she didn’t immediately move away, he ran the tips of his fingers down her thick brown hair, edging her bangs to the side of her face so he could gaze into her eyes.

Janine lowered her head. “Esh-coo me,” she managed, but it was difficult to speak with a toothbrush poking out of her mouth.

“Pardon?”

Janine hurried back to the bathroom and rinsed out her mouth. Turning, she braced her hands on the sink. “I said excuse me for bumping into you.”

“Will you be comfortable in the guest room?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

He held a blanket in his arms. “I thought you might need this.”

“Thanks,” she said as smoothly as possible, coming out of the bathroom to take the blanket from him. She wanted to be swept off her feet. She wanted love. She wanted passion.

He was offering a warm blanket.

“I...phoned Gramps,” she said, looking for a way to delay their parting and cursing herself for her weakness.

“I intended to call him myself, but got sidetracked.”

“He sounded good. Dr. Coleman and a couple of his other friends were at the house and the four of them were playing pinochle.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s enjoying his semi-retirement.”

“I am, too.”

A short silence followed.

“Good night, Janine,” Zach said after a moment. He glanced, frowning, into the guest room.

“Good night,” she said awkwardly.

Janine was sure neither of them slept a wink that night. They were across the hall from each other, but might as well have been on opposite sides of the state, so great was the emotional distance between them.

In the morning, Zach’s alarm rang at seven, but Janine was already awake. She threw back her covers, dressed and had coffee waiting when he entered the kitchen.

Zach seemed surprised to see her. “Thanks,” he murmured as she handed him a cup. “That’s a very...wifely thing to do.”

“What? Make coffee?”

“Get up to see your husband off to work.”

“I happened to be awake and figured I should get out of bed and do something useful.”

He opened the refrigerator, took out the orange juice and poured himself a glass. “I see.” He replaced the carton and leaned against the counter. “You did agree that our marriage would be a real one.”

“Yes, I did,” she said somewhat defensively. But that agreement had been before she’d learned about the one great love of his life. Zach had warned her their marriage would be advantageous for a variety of reasons, the least of which was love. At the time, Janine had agreed, convinced their relationship would find a storybook ending nonetheless—convinced that one day they’d realize they were in love. Now she understood that would never happen. And she didn’t know if she could stand it.

“Janine,” Zach said, distracting her, “what’s wrong?”

“What could possibly be wrong?”

“Obviously something’s bothering you. You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

“You should’ve told me,” she burst out, running from the kitchen.

“Told you what?” Zach shouted, following her down the hall.

Furious, she hurried into her room and sat on the end of the bed, her hands in tight fists at her sides.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, blocking the doorway.

“About...this woman you loved.”

“Marie? What about her? What’s she got to do with you and me?”

“You loved her more than...more than you thought possible. She was brave and wonderful, and I’m none of those things. I don’t deal with pain very well and... I’d like to be patriotic but all I do is vote and all I know in French are verbs.”

“What’s any of that got to do with you and me?” Zach repeated hoarsely, then threw his hands in the air. “What’s it got to do with anything?”

Knowing she’d never be able to explain, Janine shook her head, sending her bangs fanning out in several directions. “All you are is fond of me.”

“Correction,” Zach said as he stepped into the bedroom. “I cherish you.”

“It isn’t enough,” she said, feeling miserable and wretched and unworthy.

“What do you mean, it isn’t enough? According to you the only reason you married me was that I was a good kisser, so you can’t fault me for my reasons.”

“I don’t, it’s just that you...you never told me about loving someone else. Not only that, you admired her—she was a hero. All you feel for me is fondness. Well, I don’t want your fondness, Zachary Thomas!” She leapt to her feet, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. “If you cared for me, you would’ve told me about Marie before. Not mentioning her was a form of dishonesty. You were completely...unfair.”

“And you weren’t?” Zach’s expression darkened and he buried his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t say one word to me about Brian.”

Janine was so shocked she sank back onto the bed. Zach still glared at her, challenging her to contradict him. Slowly gathering her composure, she stood, her eyes narrowing as she studied her husband. “Who told you about Brian?”

“Your grandfather.”

“How did he know? I never said a word to him about Brian. Not one solitary word.”

“But obviously he knew.”

“Obviously.” Janine had never felt more like weeping. “I suppose he told you Brian lied to me and claimed to love me when all the while he was seeing someone else.” Another, more troubling thought entered her mind. “I...bet Gramps told you that to make you feel sorry for me, sorry enough to marry me.”

“Janine, no.”

She hid her face in both hands, humiliation burning her cheeks. It was all so much worse than she’d imagined. “You felt sorry for me, didn’t you?”

Zach paced the length of the bedroom. “I’m not going to lie to you, although I suspect it would be better if I did. Your grandfather didn’t mention that you’d fallen in love with Brian until after the day we took him to the doctor.”

“He waited until we got to know each other a little,” Janine whispered, staggered by the realization that her grandfather had known about Brian all along.

“By then I’d discovered I liked you.”

“The word like is possibly even worse than fond,” she muttered.

“Just hear me out, would you?”

“All right,” she sighed, fearing that nothing he said now mattered, anyway. Her pride had suffered another major blow. The one love of his life had been this marvelous patriot, while Janine had fallen for a weak-willed womanizer.

“It isn’t as bad as it seems,” Zach tried to assure her.

“I can just imagine what Gramps told you.”

“All he said was that he was afraid you’d never learn to trust your own judgment again. For quite a while now, he’s watched you avoid any hint of a relationship. It was as though you’d retreated from men and were content just to lick your wounds.”

“That’s not true! I was seeing Peter Donahue on a regular basis.”

“Safe dates with safe men. There was never any likelihood that you’d fall in love with Peter, and you knew it. It was the only reason you went out with him.”

“Is...is what happened with Brian why Gramps decided to play matchmaker?”

“I suspect that was part of it. Also his concern for your future. But I don’t fully understand his intentions even now. I don’t think it matters, though. He wanted you to be happy and secure. Anton knew I’d never purposely hurt you. And in his eyes, the two of us were perfect for each other.” Zach sat down next to her and reached for her hand, lacing her fingers with his own. “Does it matter? We’re married now.”

She looked away from him and swallowed hard. “I...may not be blond and gorgeous or brave, but I deserve a husband who’ll love me. You and Gramps both failed to take that into account. I don’t want your pity, Zach.”

“Good, because I don’t pity you. You’re my wife, and frankly, I’m happy about it. We can have a good life if you’ll put this nonsense behind you.”

“You’d never have chosen me on your own. I knew what you thought of me from the moment we met. You assumed I was a rich spoiled woman who’d never had anything real to worry about. I bet you thought I’d consider a broken nail a major disaster.”

“All right, I’ll admit I had the wrong impression, but that was before,” Zach insisted.

“Before what?”

“Before I got to know you.”

Janine’s shoulders heaved with barely suppressed emotion. “As I recall, the reason you were willing to marry me was because I wasn’t so bad. And let’s not forget the financial benefits,” she added sarcastically.

Zach’s sigh was filled with frustration. “I told you I wasn’t ever going to say the stuff you women like to hear. I don’t know a thing about romance. But I care about you, Janine, I honestly care. Isn’t that enough?”

“I need more than that,” she said miserably. It was the promise of their future, the promise of learning about love together, that had intrigued her.

Zach frowned. “You told me even before we were married that you didn’t need romantic words. You were content before I mentioned Marie. Why should my telling you change anything?”

She saw that Zach was losing his patience with her. She stared down at the thick carpet. “I really wish I could explain, but it does make a difference. I’m sorry, Zach, I really am.”

A lifetime seemed to pass before he spoke again. “So am I,” he whispered before turning away. A moment later the front door opened and almost immediately closed again. Zach had left.

“What did you expect?” she wailed, covering her face with both hands. “Did you think he was going to fall at your knees and declare his undying love?” The picture of the proud and mighty Zach Thomas playing the role of besotted husband was actually comical. If he’d done that for any woman, it would’ve been the brave and beautiful Marie. Not Janine.

After that disastrous morning, their relationship grew more strained than ever. Zach went to work early every day and returned late, usually past dinnertime. Janine never questioned where he was or who he was with, although she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking.

Zach proved to be a model housemate, if not a husband—cordial, courteous and remote. For her part, she threw herself into her volunteer work at the Friendship Club, spending hours each week with the children. She did her best to hide her unhappiness from her grandfather, although that was difficult.

“You look pale,” he told her when she joined him for lunch one afternoon, several days after her return from Ocean Shores. “Are you losing weight?”

“I wish,” she said, attempting to make a joke of it. They sat in the dining room, with Mrs. McCormick wandering in and out, casting Janine concerned glances. Janine resisted the urge to leap up and do aerobic exercises to demonstrate that she was in perfect health.

“You can’t afford to get much thinner,” Gramps said, eyeing her solemnly. He placed a dinner roll on the side of her plate and plunked the butter dish down in front of her.

“I’m not losing weight,” she told him, spreading butter on the roll in order to please him.

“I took that sea gull you gave me into the office,” Gramps said as he continued to study her. “Zach asked me where I got it. When I told him, he didn’t say anything, but I could tell he wasn’t pleased. Do you want it back?”

“No, of course not.” Janine dropped her gaze. She’d never intended for Gramps to take Chester into the office. On impulse, she’d given him the ceramic bird, reluctant to have it around the condominium to remind her of those first glorious days with Zach.

“I wish I knew what was wrong with you two,” Gramps blurted out in an uncharacteristic display of frustration. He tossed his napkin onto his dinner plate. “You should be happy! Instead, the pair of you look like you’re recovering from a bad bout of flu. Zach’s working so many hours it’s a wonder he doesn’t fall over from sheer exhaustion.”

Janine carefully tore her roll into pieces. She toyed with the idea of bringing up the subject of Brian, but in the end, she didn’t.

“So you say you’re fine, and there’s nothing wrong between you and Zach,” Gramps said sarcastically. “Funny, that’s exactly what he said when I asked him. Except he also told me to mind my own business—not quite in those words, but I got the message. The thing is, he looks as pathetic as you do. I can’t understand it—you’re perfect for each other!”

Gramps reached into his pocket for a cigar. “I’ll be seeing Zach this afternoon and I intend to give that boy a piece of my mind. By all rights, you should be a happy bride.” He tapped one end of the cigar against the table.

“We’ll be fine, Gramps. Please stay out of it.”

For a long moment, he said nothing; he only stared at the cigar between his fingers. “You’re sure you don’t want me to talk some sense into the boy?” he finally asked.

The mental picture of him trying to do so brought a quivering smile to her lips. “I’m sure,” she said, then glanced at her watch. Pam would be waiting for her. “But since you’re seeing Zach, would you please let him know I’ll probably be late for dinner? He...should go ahead and eat without me.”

“Do you do this often?” His question was an accusation.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “This is the first time. Pam needs my help with a school project and I don’t know when we’ll be finished.”

Gramps glowered as he lit his cigar, puffing mightily before he spoke. “I’ll tell him.”

As it turned out, Janine spent longer with Pam than she’d expected. The homework assignment wasn’t difficult, but Pam begged Janine to stay with her. Pam’s father was working late and the girl seemed to need Janine more than ever. They made dinner together, then ate in the kitchen while Pam chatted about her friends and life in general.

It was almost nine by the time Janine pulled into the parking garage. The first thing she noticed was Zach’s car. The atmosphere had been so falsely courteous between them that she dreaded each encounter, however brief. Since that first morning, Zach hadn’t made any effort to talk about her role in his life. Janine wasn’t looking for a long flowery declaration of love. Just a word or two more profound than fond or like to let her know she was important to him.

Drawing a deep breath, she headed for the condominium.

She’d just unlocked the door when Zach stormed into the room like a Minnesota blizzard. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

Janine was so shocked by his fierce anger that she said nothing.

“I demand to know exactly where you were!”

She removed her sweater, hanging it carefully in the entry closet, along with her purse. Zach scowled at her silence, fists clenched at his sides. “Do you have any idea of the time? Did it even cross your mind that I might’ve been concerned about you? Your cell phone was off and you didn’t return any calls.”

“I’m sorry.” Janine turned to face him. “But you knew where I was,” she said calmly.

“All Anton said was that you’d be late. Not where you were going or who you were with. So naturally I was worried.”

“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll tell you myself.” Janine yawned; the day had been exhausting. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed now. Unless there’s anything else you’d like to know?”

He glared at her, then shook his head. Wheeling around abruptly, he walked away.

Hours later, Janine was awakened by a gruff sobbing sound coming from the other room. It took her a moment to realize it was Zach. Was he having a nightmare?

Folding back the covers, she got out of bed and hurried into his room. The cries of anguish grew louder. In the light from the hallway, she could see him thrashing about, the bedding in disarray.

“Zach,” she cried, rushing to his side. She sat on the edge of the bed and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. “Wake up. You’re having a dream. Just a dream. It’s okay....”

Zach’s eyes slowly opened. “Janine.” He ground out her name as though in torment and reached for her, hauling her into his arms with such force that he left her breathless. “Janine,” he said, his voice so husky she could barely understand him. “I thought I’d lost you.”