“Then I’ll stay for a little longer,” he said, dipping into his oatmeal again, choosing to believe her, despite his suspicions to the contrary. “With all the distractions in New York, it’s a lot easier to work here.”
He kept his reasoning focused on his work, knowing this wasn’t the time for an in-depth discussion of the state of their relationship. Anne didn’t have time, and he wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet, anyway. Perhaps he wasn’t, either.
Maybe he had come to a gradual realization for his primary reason for marrying her—wanting to keep that strong link between them when they were apart so that they wouldn’t give up as they had back in college—but it had become increasingly clear to him that he wasn’t entirely certain why Anne had agreed. Nor whether she stayed married to him, despite the obstacles they had encountered, because she loved him or because her habitual avoidance of conflict extended to him as well as to her family.
He didn’t want to believe the latter. He wasn’t her father. He wouldn’t bully her if she made a decision he didn’t like. Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to change her mind, he thought with a ripple of discomfort. He tried to take comfort in assuring himself that he would be much more tactful about it than her family had ever been.
“That’s settled, then,” she murmured, setting her coffee cup on the counter. “You’ll work here for a while longer.
“Should I make dinner for us tonight or are you eating with your group?” He kept his tone light, as if he were asking only for convenience, but he really hoped she would be free to spend a couple of hours with him that evening. He had missed her quite badly the past few days. More than he was prepared to admit to her just then because he didn’t want to put pressure on her to push her studies aside for his sake.
She grimaced, and he knew before she spoke that there would be no intimate dinner for them that evening. “I’m sorry, Liam. Today’s my grandfather’s eightieth birthday. We’re celebrating at his country club, and the family will expect me to be there.”
So it was her family coming between them again tonight. It was always either that or her studies—and of the two, it was her family he resented most, rightly or wrongly. Nodding a bit curtly, he tried to keep his tone uninflected. “Of course they want you there. Don’t worry, I’ll fend for myself. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on, anyway. Answering my backlogged e-mail, alone, will take two or three hours.”
Despite his encouragement, she still looked vaguely guilty. “I wish you could go with me. I wish everyone already knew about us and the drama was all behind us and we could just walk in together as a couple, you know?”
He reached across the little table to squeeze her hand. “That time will come, Annie. Once you’ve finished these tough classes and aced that big exam—as I know you will—we’ll break the news and damn the consequences.”
Her smile was a weak attempt. “Of course we will. After I’ve got that behind me, I’ll be ready for whatever their reactions will be. Maybe they’ll surprise us and come around quickly once they know there’s nothing they can do about it.”
“Maybe they will.”
But Liam wondered. Would her family ever really accept him when they had taken such a dislike to him all those years earlier? And would Anne ever really be prepared to choose him over them, if it came to that?
Looking very handsome in a beautifully tailored dark suit, Dr. Stephen Easton stood in front of the popular, local swing band that was providing entertainment for the birthday bash and lifted a flute of champagne. The crowd that had gathered for the celebration paused in their eating and conversations to listen as Stephen cleared his throat to signal the beginning of his toast.
Sitting at a white linen-draped round table between her mother and Stephen’s fiancée, Danielle, Anne reached for her own champagne.
“To Granddad,” Stephen said in a voice that carried clearly around the room. “Dr. Henry Easton, Sr., a man who has been an invaluable asset to his community, a true leader among his peers and a role model to three generations of medical students, including his own. My father, my sister and I are among those fortunate enough to follow in his noble footsteps. Happy eightieth birthday, Granddad, and may we all be privileged to celebrate many more with you.”
The praise was a little over the top, of course, a little too flowery—but Anne couldn’t deny that her grandfather loved every word of it. Sitting next to his son, he beamed as everyone in the room raised a glass and sipped in his honor.
After nodding acknowledgement of the applause that followed his toast, Stephen motioned for the musicians to resume and rejoined his family at their big, round table. He shook his grandfather’s hand, then his father’s before sliding into the seat beside his fiancée and greeting her with a quick kiss.
“Stephen, that was lovely,” their mother said in misty approval. “I’m so glad both you and Danielle were able to be with us tonight. And Anne, too, of course,” she added quickly.
Anne smiled and nodded. Surreptitiously, she studied her mother’s face. Her mom looked tired, but happy, she decided. She had insisted on planning and organizing this birthday celebration herself, the first big party she had put together since her stroke, though she’d certainly arranged plenty of social and charitable events in the years before her illness. Anne worried that her mom had overtaxed herself for this evening, but she figured her dad had kept a close eye on her during the preparations.
Glancing around the nearly filled room of friends, family and business acquaintances, she couldn’t help noticing how many couples were in attendance. Her mom had urged Anne to bring a friend—implying that a date would be welcome—but Anne had replied lightly that there wasn’t anyone she particularly wanted to bring. And there wasn’t, other than Liam, whose presence would not have made the celebration a pleasant one.
She glanced at her watch, wondering how quickly she could get back home to him. She felt terrible leaving him alone like this when he’d just gotten back from his father’s funeral. She could almost feel her spirit being tugged in different directions by her need to be with her Liam, her obligations to her family and her responsibilities to her studies. The result was a dull headache that just never seemed to go away these days.
Though she’d hoped to be discreet, her time-check did not go unnoticed. “Looks like Anne’s eager to get back to her books,” her father said with more approval than censure.
“Of course she is,” Granddad replied jovially. “Don’t feel like you have to waste any more time at this shindig, sweetheart. I’m glad you could come, but none of us want to interfere with your schoolwork, do we?”
Her family smiled indulgently at her, nodding their agreement.
How would those expressions change if she were to suddenly blurt out the truth about what was waiting for her at home? She wondered how they would act, what they would say. How long it would take them to forgive her, as she assumed they would, eventually.
Glancing at her mother’s slightly pale, still-so-thin face, she forced a smile. “I can stay a few more minutes. At least until after they bring out the cake and we sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ I wouldn’t miss tha
t for anything, Granddad.”
Her grandfather smiled contentedly again, basking in the attention. Maybe Stephen looked at her a bit closely, but no one else seemed to notice anything odd about her behavior. Once again, she had managed to fool everyone, she thought, wishing she could feel a little more pleased with herself and less like an ungrateful daughter and a terrible wife. Mostly, she wished she could feel less like a coward.
Still a little tired from his travels, Liam slept in Saturday morning. Anne dressed as quietly as possible, then crept out of the bedroom, closing the door soundlessly behind her. Liam had barely stirred since she’d slipped out of bed.