The Glory Game Part 13

"This is my house and I drink when I please." Luz grabbed up the gla.s.s and stiffly walked behind the bar to replenish its contents.

Audra's lips narrowed in disapproval at Luz's defiance, but she didn't pursue it. "Have you been ill?" Those sharp eyes inspected the wan and haggard face. "No one has seen or talked to you in days."

"No." Luz freshened her drink with ice. "I've simply been incommunicado."

"You should have been out, letting yourself be seen and silencing those wagging tongues spreading rumors that you and Drew are having marital difficulties," her mother decreed.

"Why? They're true." Luz avoided looking at Mary, aware her sister would see through her bravado. "As a matter of fact, I talked to Arthur Hill a few minutes ago and instructed him to begin the divorce proceedings. So you see"-she lifted her gla.s.s in a mock salute-"I do have something to celebrate."

"You can call him right back and tell him you've changed your mind."

"But I haven't." She took a swig from the gla.s.s, feeling the liquor burn down her throat.

"No Kincaid has ever gotten a divorce," Audra informed her.

"Then that makes me the first, doesn't it?" Luz declared, but she couldn't maintain that brittle facade of indifference, and the bitterness came through. "He doesn't want to be married to me any longer. He's in love with someone else-someone younger. So at least allow me the dignity of being the one to divorce him."

"Love has nothing to do with it. Whether he's in love with you or someone else, it makes no difference. That is no justification for breaking up your marriage. This little affair he's having will pa.s.s. For the sake of your family, you must wait it out."

"The way you did with Jake?" Luz did the unpardonable and referred to her father's philandering ways. "Do you think people admired you for letting him make a fool of you? They laughed behind your back and pitied you for being so stupid that you couldn't see what they really thought. Your marriage was nothing but a farce, and you were the fool in it." She watched her mother go pale, but she couldn't stop the vindictive attack. "No matter how miserable I might be, I never want to be like you. The very thought makes me sick to my stomach."

She never saw the arc of her mother's hand, but she felt the stinging blow to her cheek when it struck her. The force of it turned her head, and she kept it turned after the sound of the slap ended in absolute silence.

"I won't apologize, Audra." She breathed in slowly and deeply, struggling for control. "That is how I feel."

"Luz," Mary said to fill the chilling silence. "Aren't you being too hasty? After all, in a few months, Drew may decide that this woman isn't worth giving up his home and family for. There's no need to rush into a divorce."

"You're saying I should give him a chance to make a fool of me again." This time she didn't have to say anything about her parents. Both women knew. "He already had his chance to end it with Claudia. I believed him once and behaved like a gus.h.i.+ng bride. Never again. Besides, there is a little matter of a baby on the way."

"My Lord, you mean she's pregnant?" Mary's eyes widened.

"According to Drew, yes." Luz swirled the liquor in her gla.s.s, feeling wretchedly bitter and hurt. "Tell me, Audra, did you ever have to deal with any illegitimate Kincaids running around?"

"No. But that changes nothing," Audra stated. "Your duty is to your family. No sacrifice is too great if it keeps a marriage intact and the family together."

"Even if that sacrifice includes losing the respect of our children?" Luz challenged. "I loved you and Jake, Audra, but I never respected you-either of you. I swore I'd never let any man destroy me the way Jake destroyed you-or you, him. I was never sure where the blame properly belonged. On both of you, I guess-Jake for running around and you for putting up with it. I'd rather live alone the rest of my life than endure a marriage that's a sham." She took another drink. Alcohol was a weak comfort, but it was the only one she had.

"I suppose you think you can drown your sorrows with that." Her mother viewed her drinking with disgust.

"Temporarily, Audra. Temporarily." Her smile was as twisted as her humor-and her pain. She wished she were alone so she could cry.

"What about Trisha and Rob?" Mary inserted quietly. "How did they take the news? Or haven't you told them?"

"Not yet." She dreaded facing them, dreaded their questions more than anyone else's. They'd want to know why the marriage had failed. How could she answer something she didn't understand herself? Drew's rejection of her had left her feeling that somehow she was at fault-that she had done something to drive him to another woman's bed.

"You can't wait very long. There's always a chance they'll hear it from someone else," Mary warned.

"I know. But it isn't something I can explain over the telephone. I thought I'd ask them to come home this weekend." She felt a hot flare of resentment. Drew should be the one to explain to them, since he had walked out on her. Why did she have to endure the pain of their questions?

"It's a shame you didn't have a houseful of children the way I did," her sister said, then sighed.

"Why?" She couldn't imagine anything worse than telling twelve children instead of two that their parents were getting a divorce.

"Any man who would walk out on a wife with twelve children would be considered a first-cla.s.s heel."

Luz frowned at her sister, hearing something that surprised her. "Is that why you had twelve children? So you could hold them over Ross's head in case he ever thought of leaving you?" She saw the dull flush creep into Mary's face.

"I wanted a lot of children. So did Ross," Mary insisted somewhat defensively. "But I admit a part of me recognized that they were a kind of insurance our marriage would last. And stop looking at me as if I've just poisoned an apple. I've had to be realistic. My looks aren't the kind that make a man's heart beat faster and inspire undying love. Even with the Kincaid name and money, I knew I could wind up dumped on some shelf. So I surrounded myself with love the best way I knew how. I reinforced the marriage knot with family ties. Maybe you should have done the same, Luz."

"Maybe I should offer that advice to dear Claudia," Luz murmured and tipped the gla.s.s to her lips. Illusions were shattering all around her, it seemed.

"What do you want us to say when people ask why you and Drew have separated?" Her mother refocused the conversation on the matter at hand, requesting the official family response for any inquiries. Luz knew her answer would be pa.s.sed to her brothers, Michael and Frank, creating a united front.

"Irreconcilable differences. Isn't that the phrase?" And that irreconcilable difference was Claudia. "Tell them it's an amicable divorce."

"What about when they ask about the other woman involved? They will, you know," Audra reminded her.

A sardonically amused smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "I'll probably say, 'How incredibly tacky of you to bring that up,' then walk away."

"Very wise." Audra nodded in approval.

Luz's head began to throb from the strain. It was crazy, but she couldn't allow herself to show her true feelings to either her sister or her mother-not the frightening vulnerability she felt, the awful insecurities, nor the doubts about her self-worth. She had to hide them. Her self-confidence was eroded, leaving only a brittle sh.e.l.l. It couldn't withstand much probing.

"Do you mind leaving?" She avoided looking at either of them as she made her stiff request. "I'd prefer to be alone just now. I-I have to call Rob and Trisha, and I'd rather do that in private."

"If you need me, you will call?" Mary pressed for rea.s.surance.

"Of course." But Luz knew she wouldn't and wondered why she was afraid of exposing her weaknesses to the family. It should have been the one place she found solace. Did she feel she had somehow failed them, too? She honestly didn't know. She simply felt alone-so alone.

A white organza scarf was tied around the band of the navy-blue hat, its long tails trailing off the back of the extra-wide brim. The hat acted as a s.h.i.+eld against prying eyes. Luz hid beneath it the same way she hid behind the very dark sungla.s.ses framed in white. Her nerves were coiled as tautly as a mainspring as her glance jumped over the faces of strangers exiting the plane. She unconsciously pressed a hand to her abdomen to quiet the nervous churning of her stomach. The white silk of her navy polka-dot dress felt smooth beneath her palm, so at odds with the rawness inside.

She was aware of Rob standing beside her, studying her with a brooding look that seemed almost sullen. Fortunately, there hadn't been time to talk, since his flight had been delayed and had arrived only minutes before Trisha's. She knew how mysterious she must have sounded when she called them, first a.s.suring them no one was ill or dying, then insisting she needed them to come home this weekend.

Trisha emerged from the line of deplaning pa.s.sengers and cut across the departure lounge to meet them. Dodging the swooping hat brim, she hugged Luz, then stepped back and viewed her with sharp, curious eyes that reminded Luz of her mother's.

"You look like h.e.l.l, Luz," she said.

The bluntness was so reminiscent of her mother at times. "Thank you, Trisha. You do such wonderful things for my morale." She realized her ironic remark could invoke questions, and she didn't intend to provide answers in an airport. "The car is in the lot. Why don't I meet you two outside the baggageclaim area?"

"Sure." Their agreement was readily given.

When they temporarily parted company a few minutes later, Luz felt as though she'd been granted a stay of execution. Over and over, she had rehea.r.s.ed what she was going to say. She worried about how they would take the news of the impending divorce and what they would think of her. She wanted them to think well of her. More than anything, she needed their approval and support.

Parent-child relations.h.i.+ps were so complicated. She hadn't sought their advice in making her decision, yet their opinions mattered so very much.

They were waiting at the curb when she drove up. As soon as the luggage was stowed in the trunk, they climbed into the car. Rob got into the back seat, letting Trisha sit in front with Luz.

"If you don't mind, we'll talk when we get home." She doubted that she could concentrate on the road and their questions at the same time if she tried to talk to them now.

Trisha started to answer, but Rob was a split second quicker. "We don't mind." Trisha appeared to disagree, but she said nothing. Luz was grateful for the way they bridled their curiosity and hoped they would continue to show such understanding.

The Mercedes's convertible top was raised to close in the interior, the air-conditioning vents letting in the only circulation. Luz had always thought a divorce would make a person feel free-would make her welcome the sensation of the wind blowing through her hair. But she wanted to hide, under hats, behind dark gla.s.ses, inside cars. Maybe Drew felt free, but she felt naked and exposed. It was as if everyone could see the flaws that she'd taken such pains to hide-like the small cellulite deposits dimpling her thighs or the faint stretch marks on her stomach from two pregnancies.

The drive home from the airport was made mostly in silence. Neither Rob nor Trisha appeared inclined to talk, although Luz was aware that their gazes strayed to her often. She led the way into the living room, entering through the French doors to the patio. She removed her hat and dark gla.s.ses and laid them with her purse atop a bar stool.

Her blond hair was pulled severely back and coiled in a bun at the back of her neck. Its style stretched the skin across her face, eliminating the crepy look around her eyes and the lines of strain recently etched near her mouth as well as smoothing her brow and tautening a sagging chin. The total effect was a mock facelift. More than once since Drew had left her, Luz had considered cosmetic surgery. She no longer believed there was such a thing as aging gracefully. She didn't want to look old and hear unkind comparisons between herself and the youthful Claudia. It all came from insecurity, she knew-from not believing anyone could care for her the way she was.

The tension in the air was thick. Luz sensed the waiting, and she walked behind the bar. Liquor had become a crutch, a false support to help her deal with unpleasant things. Depending on it only proved how weak she was. She knew that and poured a drink anyway.

"I know you're wondering what is so important that you had to come home this weekend," she began.

"We already know about the divorce, Luz," Trisha said quietly. "Dad called us."

The announcement was like a blow knocking the wind from her. She hadn't the strength to hold the gla.s.s anymore and set it down before she dropped it. "Drew called?" Shock was in her voice, but it quickly receded under a rush of resentment. "The swine! He could have let me know he'd talked to you. I've been through h.e.l.l wondering how to tell you." All her carefully built emotional defenses were shattered. Blindly, Luz moved around to the front of the bar, where Trisha was perched on a stool and Rob stood awkwardly.

"He called the day after you phoned us," Trisha explained.

"He told you about the divorce over the telephone? How could he do anything so cold and impersonal?" His insensitivity made her want to cry. She touched Rob's shoulder, feeling the rigidly flexed muscles.

"We wanted to hear your side," Rob said.

My side. Your side. It was beginning-the dichotomy of a family. Luz ached inside, for herself and for them. "Did he tell you that he'd found someone else?" Tears blurred her eyes when she saw the confused and pained look on Rob's face that said he knew.

At the sight of her tears, he reached and gathered her into his arms, crus.h.i.+ng her tightly against him. He turned his face into her hair and muttered half-smothered words of anger. "How could he do this to you, Luz? The dirty son of a b.i.t.c.h-" The rest was choked off.

But it didn't matter. This was the first physical comfort she had known. She closed her eyes, feeling the strain of his body as it tried to absorb her anguish. She held him tightly, needing him, crying softly, yet rea.s.sured by her son's fierce embrace. It was some minutes before she slowly pulled away, careful not to notice his reddened eyes while she wiped away her own tears.

"Maybe I should ask what he told you," Luz suggested in a soft, emotionally charged voice.

"Nothing much really," Trisha said. "Just that he'd found someone else and the two of you had decided to get a divorce. Naturally he hoped we'd understand. Marriages just sometimes break up, he said."

"It happens all the time." To others, Luz thought. She had never expected it to happen to her.

"Have you met her?" Despite her frequent questions, Trisha seemed unnaturally contained. Rob was usually the quiet one, showing all this reserve Luz saw in her daughter.

"Yes."

"What's she like?"

"She's young and beautiful." Luz tried not to let her own jealousies color her reply. "She's a lawyer, so she and your father have a lot in common."

"Maybe if you'd shown a little interest in his work instead of confining your dinner conversation to such scintillating topics as the current theme of your latest bazaar, this wouldn't have happened."

The stinging criticism hurt, however innocently disguised it was. "I have tried to talk to him about his work, but when he gets too technical, I can't follow him. I imagine he grew tired of explaining everything to me all the time." She was conscious of the defensive edge in her voice.

"You could have tried to learn." It was a half-muttered complaint, and Luz resented being singled out for blame. This whole issue had been a touchy subject for too long, so she naturally reacted to it.

"You think I should have studied law, even though I wasn't personally interested in the subject, simply to please him?" Luz challenged. "Don't you think that's a slightly antiquated idea, Trisha? A marriage consists of two individuals who live together. The idea is not for one person to impose his interests on the other. To share them, yes, but not to force the other to like them."

"Luz is right." Rob spoke up on her behalf. "I can't think of anything more boring than spending an evening talking about writs, supoenas, and litigations."

Trisha hopped off the bar stool in a sudden burst of impatience. "Well, it just seems to me if a man is happy at home, he doesn't go out looking for someone else to love. I just want to know what went wrong. What did you do to send him away?"

"I don't know," she answered sharply. "Why don't you ask your father? Then you can tell me so I won't have to keep wondering."

"I suppose it was your idea to sleep in separate bedrooms," Trisha accused.

Luz slapped her. "Your remarks are becoming too personal, young lady." When she saw the white mark her hand left on Trisha's cheek, she felt sickened by what she'd done. Her temper died as quickly as it had flared. Trisha was young and could be forgiven her impetuousness, but Luz was an adult and should have known better than to react in kind.

When Trisha turned and grabbed up her purse to walk to the door, for an instant Luz couldn't move or speak. "Trisha." She watched her daughter pause near the door, not turning. "You once asked me what I had ever lost. I think I can answer that question now. I lost my illusions. n.o.body lives 'happily ever after'-not even a Kincaid. Please ... I don't want to lose you."

Slowly Trisha swung around to face her mother. "You won't, Luz. But I have to go see him. He's my father, and I love him, too."

"Of course." Luz understood, but that didn't silence that little niggling fear. Trisha had always been Daddy's girl. It wasn't fair. Drew had Claudia, and she was alone. She needed the children, and he was starting another family.

Trisha hesitated by the door. "Are you coming, Rob?"

"No." After she'd gone, Rob walked over to Luz and stood near her, his hands self-consciously shoved into the side pockets of his slacks. "I can't face him yet. All I want to do is. .h.i.t him right now." He shuffled away, his head down, while he muttered in a barely audible voice, "The b.a.s.t.a.r.d. The dirty, rotten b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

For a long time, Luz stood alone in the middle of the room, then she walked back to the bar where she'd left the drink.

Later that evening, Luz was in the kitchen fixing a pizza, something she hadn't done in years. She'd given all the help the weekend off so that she could be alone with Rob and Trisha. She wondered if the pizza was such a good idea as she placed the anchovies atop the mounds of shaved mozzarella cheese. It was a remembrance of happier times when the four of them were together. She placed the finished pizza on a rack in the refrigerator, ready to pop into the oven as soon as Trisha came back.

When she walked out of the kitchen to join Rob on the patio, she heard Trisha's voice. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she knew that neither of them would talk freely about their father to her. They wouldn't want to be accused of carrying tales, nor would they intentionally want to hurt her.

"He wants to talk to you, Rob. Won't you at least call him?" Trisha urged.

"No, dammit, I won't. And I don't see how you can have anything to do with him after the way he walked out on Luz!"

"He had his reasons."

"Yeah, and I know the reason. A cute little piece of a.s.s half his age."

"Rob, you haven't even met her. Don't you think you should wait to condemn him at least until you've seen them together?" Trisha argued, then her voice turned thoughtful. "I've never seen him look so happy. He's always smiling or laughing-something he rarely did at home. His face seems to s.h.i.+ne every time he looks at her. He loves her, Rob. I think even you would like her if you gave yourself a chance."

It hurt to hear the way Trisha described them. It sounded so idyllic, and she was going through h.e.l.l. Hate and envy mixed with bitterness. It wasn't fair. Every divorce had winners and losers, and she was the loser in this one-her youth gone and her self-esteem shattered. Luz remembered again what she'd told Mary that evening in the study of the Kincaid manor-this wasn't the way she thought her life would turn out.

"I don't have to listen to this s.h.i.+t!" Rob's angry declaration was followed by the sc.r.a.pe of a metal chair leg across the patio tile, then the sound of footsteps.

It was only a matter of seconds before she would be discovered. Luz quickly stepped forward into their view. Rob stopped when he saw her and glanced quickly back at Trisha. Her facial muscles felt the strain of holding a pleasant expression as she joined them.

"If I had known you were back, Trisha, I would have put the pizza in the oven," she said. "I hope you're hungry. I fixed a giant one."

"Aren't you going to ask how Dad is?" Trisha's previous irritation with Rob was now extended to include Luz.

"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, Trish?" Rob demanded. "She'll ask if she wants to know!" Just as suddenly, he seemed to retreat behind a brooding expression and took a long stride in the direction of the house. "I'm not hungry."