“Thank you,” she whispered, as he disappeared into the bedroom to undress and take a shower. And when she heard the water running, she reached for the phone and dialed Cal. He answered on the second ring, and was happy to hear her voice.
“When are you coming over? I bought a couple of steaks, and a nice bottle of wine.”
“I can't come,” she said quickly.
“Why not? Is something wrong?” He could hear the strain in her voice, and although she didn't need to, she was almost speaking in a whisper.
“Steve is here. He surprised me.” There was a long pause, and a painful silence.
“I see … well, that's interesting. To what do we owe the pleasure … no, let me guess. He came out for Valentine's Day, for a little romance.” Cal sounded cynical to cover his hurt as he said it. But it was the price he had to pay for having an affair with a married woman.
“I guess so. I don't know, Cal.” Now she was lying to him too. The dream was slowly turning into a nightmare, but they had known it would. They had been kidding themselves for the past few weeks, but now the truth was staring them both in the face. The only one who didn't know what was happening was Steven. “I can't see you tomorrow,” she said sadly.
“Obviously.” And then he seemed to recover. “It's all right, Merrie. I understand.” They had put off having any discussion about their future because they realized that until Steve appeared they could live the fantasy. But now he was here and they had to face the truth and all its implications. “We'll have dinner next week and talk about it. I'll see you on Monday. I assume he's going back Sunday night on the red-eye.” In spite of himself, he sounded hopeful.
“He hasn't said yet.” The water had stopped running and she knew she had to get off. The entire situation was making her extremely nervous. “I'll call you when I can.”
“Don't worry about it. I'll spend a quiet weekend with the kids. Just remember one thing.”
“What's that?” she whispered.
“I love you.” As she listened, she realized that he was more than she deserved. They both were. She felt guilty about both of them. They were good men, and she loved them. But giving each of them half of her heart was less than either of them deserved and it was driving her crazy.
“Me too,” she said as Steve wandered into the living room wrapped in a towel, still dripping water. “Have a nice weekend,” she said and hung up, as Steve looked at her with a smile.
“Who was that?”
“My secretary … Joan … I needed her to do some work this weekend.” The lies were endless, and Meredith hated herself for them. But there was no way she could be honest with him. What was she supposed to say? That it was Cal, and that she had just told him she loved him?
“You all work too hard,” Steve announced as he walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He liked beer, and she had none. All she had was some white wine Cal had left there. “You're out of beer,” Steve said, looked at the wine and raised an eyebrow. “You're drinking mighty expensive stuff these days. You never drink wine when you're alone,” he said, but it was more a question than an accusation.
“I had some people over. The Japanese people last weekend.”
“Too bad you didn't buy sake for them. I like that better. We can go buy some beer later.”
“I wasn't expecting you, so I didn't buy it.”
“No prob,” he said with a boyish grin. He seemed like a big kid now, compared to Cal's sophistication. It was odd to realize that she was more comfortable now with her lover than her husband. The last four months had not been kind to them. “Why don't we hop into bed for a while?” he suggested with a look of mischief, as he took her by the hand and pulled her into the bedroom. She was still wearing the navy blue suit she'd worn to work, with a gold necklace and a pair of pearl earrings. She looked businesslike and cool, and the last thing on her mind was sex or romance. But there was absolutely no way she could refuse him. She had already tried time of the month, and he hadn't bought it. And in the days before Cal, she would have been anxious to sleep with him after all the time they hadn't seen each other. They had always had an active sex life.
She took off her suit, draped it over a chair, kicked off her shoes, took off her jewelry, and pantyhose, and a minute later, she slipped into bed in her underwear, after a quick stop in the bathroom. She felt like one of those legendary brides who lock themselves in the bathroom and refuse to come out, but if she had done that, he would have thought she was crazy.
And for a minute, he just lay there and held her, but she could feel how much he wanted her, and suddenly all her feelings for him came rushing back, not in the form of passion, but of pity.
“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He knew her too well, and he was shocked to feel that she was shaking.
There were tears in her eyes when she answered. She had been so unfair to him. She had made a mess of everything, and she couldn't even tell him about it. It would only have hurt him. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say to him. What could she say? That she was having an affair and in love with another man? It would have been so cruel to tell him. “I don't know,” she struggled to explain, without actually saying anything too damning to him. “It's hard not seeing each other for so long, and then coming together like this … it feels strange, doesn't it?”
“Not to me,” he said in a gentle tone, his voice husky with desire for her, “but women are different.” Yes, she thought to herself, as Cal had once said of Charlotte, they are fundamentally dishonest. She hated herself for what she was doing to him. And she thought she was no better than Charlotte.
“I'm sorry.” She clung to him like a lost child as he held her. He had been her friend, her comfort, her mentor, and now he felt like a stranger to her.
“Don't be sorry, Merrie. Just let me hold you.” He did for a long time, and eventually she relaxed, but when he tried to make love to her, she was so stiff and miserable that she wondered if she was becoming frigid. With him, at least. It had been a different story with Cal since Hawaii. “Maybe surprising you like this wasn't such a great idea,” he said finally. He didn't want to force her to make love with him, but he couldn't stand not having her either. He got out of bed and walked around the room, and then he saw the gold watch she had left on the table. “What's that?” he asked casually, as he picked it up. It was heavy and looked expensive.
“My watch,” she said, watching him.
“I can see that. Where'd you get it?”
“Bulgari. It was a Christmas present from Cal.” There was no point lying about that too. She had to be honest about something.
“That's quite a gift,” he said, looking unhappy about it. “It must have cost him a pretty penny.”
“He's very generous with his employees,” she said coolly, as Steve turned to look at her, his eyes filled with pain and questions.
“Do I need to ask you if you're more than that to him?” he asked, and as their eyes met, she shook her head slowly. She didn't want him to know, and she wasn't going to tell him. She was sure now. It would have been easier to shoot him than to tell him. And she had neither the desire, nor the courage.
“No, you don't. The watch doesn't mean anything.” He nodded, and set it back down on the table. And Cal's name never came up again for the rest of the weekend.
They went out for pizza that night, and hung around the apartment the next day. He took her out for hamburgers on Saturday night, which was his idea of a Valentine's Day celebration. And finally, on Saturday night, she made love with him. It had none of their old spark and flame, and he knew something was wrong afterward when he held her.
“This lifestyle of ours isn't doing us any good,” he said quietly. “We're going to have to do something about it one of these days. Things are going downhill fast, aren't they?” It was more a statement than a question.