Thirteen
“Are you making poached eggs again?”
Joan whined when she came down the stairs for breakfast.
“Yes,”
Diana said. “How’d you know?”
“Oh, Mom, honestly.”
The preteen plopped down at the kitchen table and shook her head knowingly. “You always make poached eggs when you’re upset. It’s a form of self-punishment—at least, that’s what I think. Katie says it’s because you still haven’t made up with Cliff.”
She paused to study her mother. “Katie’s right, too. You know that, don’t you?”
Mumbling something unintelligible under her breath, Diana cracked two raw eggs over the boiling water. A frown gently creased her forehead. “Just how many times this week have I served poached eggs?”
“Three,”
Joan came back quickly. “Which is exactly as many days since you and Cliff had your big fight.”
“We didn’t have a big fight,”
Diana answered in a calm, reasonable voice.
Joan shrugged and took a long drink of her orange juice before answering. “I heard you. You and Cliff were shouting at each other—well, maybe not shouting, but your voices were raised, and I could hear you all the way upstairs.”
She paused as though considering whether to add a commentary. “Mom, I think you were wrong to talk to Cliff that way.”
Diana groaned and scraped the butter across the top of the hot toast. “This isn’t a subject I want to discuss with you, Joan.”
“But I saw Cliff when he came into my bedroom, and he felt terrible about missing the banquet.”
“I thought you were asleep!”
“I wasn’t really . . . I had my eyes closed and everything, but I was peeking up at him through my lashes. He felt really bad. Even I could see that.”
Diana wielded the butter knife like a sword, waving it at her daughter. “You should have said something then.”
Looking guilty, Joan reached for her orange juice a second time. “I was going to, but you started talking and saying all those mean things to Cliff, and I was glad because I was still angry with him.”
She paused and sighed. “Now I wish I’d let him know I was awake. Then maybe I wouldn’t be eating poached eggs every morning.”
Diana served her daughters breakfast, but she didn’t bother to eat any herself.
She didn’t need a week to decide if she wanted to marry Cliff.
Within twenty-four hours after their argument, she recognized that she’d behaved badly.
Joan and Katie were far more than willing to confirm her suspicions about the way she’d acted.
Diana was forced into admitting she’d been unreasonable.
More than anything, she deeply regretted throwing Stan’s name at Cliff.
Beyond whatever else she’d said, that had been completely unfair.
She owed Cliff an apology, but making one had never come easy to her—the words seemed to stick in her throat.
But if she didn’t do it soon, she’d have a mutiny on her hands.
Already Katie had hinted that she was going to move in with Mrs. Holiday if she had to eat poached eggs one more morning.
The girls went swimming that afternoon, and while they were at the pool, Diana paced the kitchen floor, gathering up the courage to contact Cliff.
With a stiff finger, she punched out the number to his office as she rehearsed again and again what she planned to say.
“Hello,”
she said in a light, cheerful voice. “This is Diana Collins for Cliff Howard.”
“I’ll connect you with one of his staff,”
the tinny receptionist’s voice returned.
Diana was forced to ask for him a second time.
“Mr. Howard’s in a meeting,”
his secretary explained in a crisp professional tone. “Would you like to leave a message?”
“Please have him return my call,”
Diana murmured, defeated.
She was convinced Cliff had given his secretary specific instructions to inform her that he was out of the office.
The suspicion was confirmed when, hours later, she still hadn’t heard from him.
He’d said a week, and he seemed determined to make her wait that long, Diana mused darkly after Joan and Katie were in bed asleep.
He wanted her to sweat it out. Either that, or he’d decided to cut his losses and completely wash his hands of her.
Depressed and discouraged, Diana sat in front of the television, flipping channels, until she stumbled upon an old World War II movie.
For an hour she immersed her woes in the classic battle scenes and felt tears course down her cheeks when the hero died a valiant death.
The tears were a welcome release.
Once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop.
Soon there was a growing pile of damp tissue on the end table beside her chair.
The doorbell caught her by surprise.
There was only one person it could be.
Cliff.
Loudly she blew her nose, then quickly rubbed her open hands down her cheeks to wipe away the extra moisture.
With her head tilted at a regal angle, she moved into the entryway, her heart pounding at a staccato beat.
“Hello.”
Cliff took one look at her and blinked. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and pointed to the television behind her. “John Wayne just bit the dust, but he took the entire German army with him.”
Cliff stepped inside the house. “I see.”
He looked good, Diana thought unkindly.
The very least he could do was show a little regret—a few worry lines around the mouth.
Even a couple of newly formed crow’s-feet at his eyes would have satisfied her.
At the very least, he could say something to let her know he’d been just as miserable as she.
Instead he was the picture of a man who had recently returned from a two-week vacation in the Caribbean.
He was tan, relaxed, lean and so handsome he stole her breath.
“I understand you called the office,”
he said stiffly.
Diana nodded, but couldn’t manage to get the practiced apology past the clog in her throat.
“You wanted something?”
Again she nodded. His expression was tightening—she was losing him fast. Either she had to blurt out how sorry she was, or she was going to let the most fantastic man she’d ever met silently slip out of her life.
“Is it so difficult to tell me?”
Confused, she nodded, then abruptly shook her head.
Cliff released a giant sigh of frustration and impatience, then reached for her, gripping her shoulders. His fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of her upper arms. “I’m not letting you go this easily.”
“What?”
She blinked at the shock of his harsh treatment.
“I know what you’re going to say and I refuse to accept it.”
She slapped her hand over her heart, her eyes as round and as wide as full moons. “You know what I’m going to say?”
In response, he nodded, released her shoulders and instead captured her face. If she’d wished to witness his pain and regret, she saw it now. It filled his face, twisting his mouth and hardening his jaw. “I love you, Diana.”
With that, he lowered his mouth to hers in a punishing kiss that robbed her of her breath and her wits.
Cliff groaned, and Diana slipped her arms around his neck, melting her body intimately against his. “Cliff.”
Reluctantly she broke away, lifting her soft brown eyes to capture his. Her hands bracketed his face as a slow, sweet smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry for what happened—I was unreasonable. Forgive me. Please.”
Shock and disbelief flickered briefly across his taut features.
“You can’t honestly believe I’m going to cancel the wedding,”
she whispered, humbled by this man and his love for her. “The reason I called you today was to tell you how much I love you.”
The moisture that brightened her eyes now had nothing to do with the emotion brought on by the sentimental movie. These tears came all the way from her heart.
Cliff looked for a moment as though he didn’t believe her.
He kissed her again because he couldn’t remain with his arms wrapped around her and not sample her familiar sweet taste.
He felt weak with relief and, at the same moment, filled with an incredible, invincible strength.
Cliff’s kiss filled Diana with desire, left every muscle in her body quivering.
Her passion matched his.
Cliff pressed his lips over hers in mounting fervor, and Diana rose onto her toes to align herself more intimately with his body.
“Diana.”
He groaned and tore his mouth from hers. “We . . . we have things to settle here.”
“Shh.”
She kissed him hungrily, slanting her mouth over his as she wove her fingers through his thick hair, savoring the feel and taste of him.
Cliff could refuse her nothing. The golden glow of a crescent moon outlined her beautiful face. Cliff released a deep sigh of awe at the priceless gift she was granting him—herself, without restraint, without restriction.
“Let’s go upstairs,”
she whispered.
Cliff blinked and raised his hands to capture her face, holding her steady so he could look into her passion-drugged eyes. When he spoke, his voice was husky and deep. “Aren’t the girls up there?”
“Yes, but . . . ?”
Their breaths warmed each other’s mouths. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,”
he groaned, and closed his eyes to a silent agony.
“Doing what?”
“Refusing you.”
“Cliff, no.”
Diana couldn’t believe it, either. After all the times he’d tried to seduce her, now he was turning her down. “Why?”
she choked. “I want you.”
“Believe me, honey, I want you, too—so much it hurts.”
He spoke through clenched teeth, his hands gripping her upper arms. Diana went still in his arms, and he relaxed as though a great tension had eased from him.
“Not the first time we make love,”
he murmured into her hair, his voice low and raw. “Not like this. We’ll be married in ten days. I can wait.”
“I don’t know that I can,”
she complained.
“Yes, you can. The loving is going to be very good between us.”
If it was going to be like it had been tonight, Diana didn’t know if she’d survive the honeymoon.
It took Cliff almost an hour to find the headstone.
He’d wandered around the graveyard in the early morning sunlight, intent on his task.
Today was to be his wedding day.
Friends and relatives crowded around him at every turn.
His sane, sensible mother had become a clucking hen.
His father kept slapping him across the back, smiling and looking proud.
Even his brother seemed to follow him around like a pesky shadow, just the way he’d done in their youth.
There were a thousand things left to be done on this day, but none so important as this.
Now that he’d located the place, Cliff wasn’t sure what had driven him here.
He squatted and read the words engraved with such perfection into the white marble: STANLEY DAVID COLLINS, HUSBAND, FATHER.
The date of his birth and death were listed.
No epitaph, no scripture verse, just the blunt facts of one man’s life.
Slowly Cliff stood and placed his hands in his pockets as he gazed down at the headstone.
His heart swelled with strong emotion, and in that space of time, he knew what had driven him to this cemetery on this day.
He hadn’t come to seek solitude from all the hustle and bustle, nor had he sought escape from the people who had suddenly filled his home.
He didn’t need a graveyard to be alone.
He’d come to talk to Stan Collins.
He’d come because he had to.
“I wish I’d known you,”
he said, feeling awkward, the words low and gruff. “I think we would have been friends.”
From what he’d learned from George Holiday and the information he’d gleaned from Diana and the girls, Stan had been a good man, the type Cliff would gladly have counted as a friend.
Only silence greeted him. Cliff wasn’t sure what he’d expected, certainly no voice booming from heaven, no sounds from the grave. But something—he just didn’t know what.
“You must have hated leaving her,”
he said next.
He didn’t know much about Stan’s death, only bits and pieces he’d picked up from Diana the day he’d gone to the hospital when Katie had broken her arm.
Between Diana’s nonsensical statements and her panic, he’d learned that she hadn’t been able to see Stan when they’d brought him into the emergency room.
There’d been no time for goodbyes. The realization twisted a tight knot in Cliff’s stomach. “I know what thoughts must have been in your mind.”
He bowed his head at the grim realization of death. “I would have been filled with regrets, too.”
A strange peace settled over Cliff, a peace beyond words. He relaxed, and a grin curved his mouth. “You’d be amazed at Joan and Katie. They’re quite the young ladies now.”
Diana was letting both girls stand up with her today as maid of honor and bridesmaid.
She’d sewn them each a beautiful long pink dress with lace overlays.
Joan had claimed she looked at least fourteen.
Heels, panty hose, the whole nine yards.
Katie was excited about getting her hair done in a beauty shop.
Cliff laughed out loud at the memory of the eight-year-old insisting they serve Kentucky Fried Chicken at the wedding reception.
Joan had been thrilled with the prospect of having an extra set of grandparents at Christmastime.
Within minutes both girls had had his parents eating out of their hands. They’d been enthralled with Diana’s two daughters from the minute they’d been introduced.
“You’d have reason to be proud of your girls,”
he said thoughtfully. “They’re fantastic kids.”
The humor drained from his eyes as his gaze fell once more to the engraved words on the headstone. The word father seemed to leap out at him. “I guess what I want to say is that I don’t plan on trying to steal you away from Joan and Katie.”
Stan would always be their father; he had loved his children more than Cliff would ever know until he and Diana had their own. Now Cliff would be the one to raise Joan and Katie and love and nurture them into adulthood, guiding them with a gentle hand. “I know what you’re thinking,”
he said aloud. “I can’t say I blame you. I’m new to this fatherhood business. I can’t do anything more than promise I’ll do my best.”
Now that he’d gotten past the girls, Cliff was faced with the real reason he had come. “I love Diana,”
he said plainly. “I didn’t expect to, and I imagine you’d be more than willing to punch me out for some of the things I’ve tried with her. I apologize for that.”
His hands knotted into tight fists inside his pants pockets. “I honestly love her,” he repeated, and sucked in a huge breath. “And I know you did, too.”
The sun had risen above the hills now, bathing the morning mist with its warm, golden light so that the grass glistened. After a long reverent moment, Cliff turned and traced his steps back to the parking lot.
He took a leisurely drive back to his condominium and found his brother parked outside waiting for him.
“Where have you been?”
Rich demanded. “I’ve been all over looking for you. In case you’ve forgotten, this is your wedding day.”
Undisturbed, Cliff climbed out of his car and dropped the keys into his pants pocket.
Still Rich wasn’t appeased. “I didn’t know what to think when I couldn’t find you.”
He checked his watch. “We were supposed to meet Mom and Dad ten minutes ago.”
“Did you think I’d run away?”
Cliff joked.
“Yes. No. I didn’t know what to think. Where the blazes did you go that was so all-fired important?”
Cliff smiled into the sun. “To talk to a friend.”
“Mom, I’ve got a run in my panty hose,”
Joan cried, her young voice filled with distress. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“I don’t like the feel of hair spray,”
Katie commented for the tenth time, bouncing her hand off the top of her head several times just to see what would happen to the carefully styled but stiff curls.
“I’ve got an extra pair of nylons in the drawer,”
Diana answered Joan first. “Katie, keep your hands out of your hair!”
Her mother was due any minute, and Diana didn’t know when she’d been more glad to see either parent. Surprisingly, she wasn’t nervous. She was more confident about marrying Cliff than any decision she’d made in the past three years. He loved her, and together they would build a good life together.
“You’re not wearing your pearl earrings,”
Joan said with astonishment, and loudly slapped her sides. “Good grief, is any date more important than this one?”
Diana wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember? Honestly, Mom! I wanted you to wear the pearls the first night you went to dinner with Cliff, and you told me you wanted to wait for something festive to impress him.”
Diana smiled at the memory. “I think you’re right,”
she said, and traded the small gold pair for the pearls. “Nothing’s more important than today.”
Her knees felt weak, not with doubts, but with excitement, and she sat on the corner of the mattress. “How do you girls feel?” she asked, watching her two daughters carefully.
“We’re doing the right thing,”
Joan said with all the confidence of a five-star general. “Cliff’s about the best we’re going to do.”
“What?”
Diana asked with a small, hysterical laugh.
“Really, Mom,”
Katie came back. “For a while, I thought we’d get stuck with that Danny fellow from Wichita.”
“Or Owen,”
Joan added. Both girls looked at each other and made silly faces and cried, “Oou!”
“Who’s Owen?”
Diana’s mother asked as she stepped into the bedroom.
“He’s the major geek I was telling you about who brought the references,”
Joan explained before Diana had the chance. He really was a dear man and someday he’d find the right woman. Fortunately, according to Joan and Katie, it wasn’t her.
“Ah, yes,”
Joyce said, sharing a secret smile with her daughter. “You look lovely, sweetheart.”
“Thanks,”
Joan answered automatically, then looked and gave her grandmother a chagrined smile. “Oh, you mean my mom.”
“All three of you look beautiful.”
Joan and Katie beamed at the praise.
“Watch, Grandma,”
Katie said. Tucking her arms close to her side, Katie whirled around a couple of times so the hemline of her dress flared out.
“Stop behaving like an eight-year-old,”
Joan cried. “You’re supposed to be mature today.”
“But I am eight!”
Joan opened her mouth to object, then realized she’d already lost one of her press-on fingernails. For a wild minute, there was a desperate search for the thumbnail. Peace ruled once they located it.
“Mother, would you check Katie’s hair?”
Diana asked. “She can’t seem to keep her fingers out of it.”
“Sure. Katie,”
Joyce called to her granddaughter, “let’s go into the ladies’ room.”
Three hours later, Diana stood in front of the pastor who had seen her through life and death in the church where she sat each Sunday morning.
Her parents, Cliff’s family and a small assortment of close friends were gathered behind them.
Joan and Katie stood proudly at her side.
The man of God warmed them all with a rare, tranquil smile.
Diana turned, and her gaze happened to catch Cliff’s.
He did love her, more than she’d ever dared to dream, more than she’d ever thought possible.
He stood tall and proud and eagerly held her eyes, his love shining through for her to read without doubt, without question.
He was prepared to pledge his life to her and Joan and Katie. The commitment she sought he was about to willingly vow.
Witnessing all the love in Cliff’s eyes had a chastising effect upon Diana.
The man she’d once considered an unscrupulous womanizer had chosen her to share his life.
He was prepared to love her no matter what the future held for them, prepared to raise her daughters and guide their young lives.
Out of all the beautiful women he’d known, Cliff had chosen her.
Diana didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such a good man, but she would always be grateful. Always.
The minister opened his Bible, and Diana focused her attention on the man of the cloth.
Her heart was full.
Happiness had come to her a second time when she’d least expected it.
When the moment came, Cliff repeated his vows in a firm, assured voice, then silently slipped the solitary diamond on her finger.
Diana prepared to do the same.
Her pastor’s words echoed through the church.
When he asked her if she would take Cliff as her lawfully wedded husband, she opened her mouth to say in an even, controlled voice that she would.
However, she wasn’t given the chance.
Joan spoke first. “She does.”
Katie chimed in. “We all do.”