He stopped speaking when the waitress appeared with the tray of food.
A feeling of panic swelled in Suzanna’s chest as she sat silently watching the girl set out plates and silverware. She’d pulled her hand loose from Gregg’s; now it felt sticky and wet. It was cool in the restaurant, but beads of perspiration were rising on her forehead and she could feel her heart thudding against her breastbone. She wanted the waitress to stay longer, to be an awkward presence that stopped Gregg from speaking, but such was not to be. In a handful of seconds the girl was gone, taking with her any hope of delaying the question Suzanna wanted to avoid.
Pushing aside the tray of olives, meats, and cheeses, Gregg again reached for her hand.
“I was hoping to make this a momentous occasion, take you someplace romantic and propose in a way that would ultimately be the story we’d tell our children and grandchildren, but the school is pressuring me for an answer about whether or not I’m going to stay. They’ve offered me a three-year extension, and I have to give them an answer by Monday.”
Suzanna’s heart beat faster, and her head seemed ready to topple from her shoulders. She’d had a single glass of wine, but it felt as though she’d downed a gallon. A week earlier she’d hoped Gregg would ask this very same question, but now things were different. Bobby was back, and he was Annie’s daddy. Her birth daddy. How could she possibly deny him the chance to set things right?
As Gregg held her hand in his, a worried look settled on his brow. Apparently sensing her reluctance to answer, he said, “If you honestly love your job and that’s what makes you happy, you can continue to work, but at least you’ll have the option of knowing you can stop whenever you want…”
As she listened to him speak of his love for both her and Annie, tears filled Suzanna’s eyes and she felt a piece of her heart shatter and break away. In a voice choked with emotion she said, “I love you, Gregg, I honestly do, but I need some time before I can give you my answer.”
He blinked in surprise. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean. Time? Time for what?”
“To make certain decisions about my life.”
He let go of her hand and pushed back in the seat. “We’ve been seeing each other for over six months, Darla Jean. We’ve spent endless hours together, and I assumed you felt the same as I do.”
“I do, but…”
“But what? Am I missing something here? Haven’t you given me every reason to believe—”
“Yes, I have, and don’t think this means I don’t love you, because I do. It’s just that my life is complicated, and there are things I need to sort out before—”
“What things?” His voice had become testy, and his words had the sound of a gauntlet thrown down on the table. The tenderness and warmth she’d seen in his face earlier were gone, his eyes hooded and his brows pinched tight.
Suzanna dropped her hands into her lap and sat looking down at them. She was at a crossroad with no way to move forward or back. Going forward meant crisscrossing the landmine of lies she’d laid out, and turning back meant she’d have to deal with the bridges she’d burned long ago. Even if she wanted to tell Gregg about Bobby, she couldn’t. The risk was too great. He was no fool. Once he knew who Annie’s daddy was, it would be easy enough to discover her true identity. He’d find out, then Ida would find out, and the life she’d built here in Cousins would be destroyed. She could live with that; she deserved it. But Annie didn’t.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about it right now. If you’ll just give me some time—”
The expression on his face remained rigid. “Darla Jean, if you are genuinely in love with someone, you don’t need time to decide whether or not you want to marry them.”
As Suzanna listened to his words, she felt the web of lies closing in on her, tightening, binding her to the past. All along she’d believed she was building a new life, but that was simply a lie she’d told herself. The truth was that Gregg had proposed to Darla Jean Parker, not Suzanna Duff. That’s who he loved, the imaginary Darla Jean, not her. Bobby knew who she was and loved her nonetheless. He was Annie’s real daddy. He had never forgotten, and he was still in love with Suzanna Duff.
The antipasto sat there, olive oil congealing beneath the chunks of cheese and meat, but neither of them touched anything. Gregg refilled his wine glass twice then said the evening was not at all what he’d expected.
“There’s nothing you could have done differently,” Suzanna said. “I’m sorry. If you’ll just give me a few weeks to sort out the complications in my life, we can—” She was going to say perhaps start over, but he cut in.
“Don’t rush,” he said sharply. “I think we both need time to think things over.” He emptied his wine glass and suggested they leave.
On the drive home, neither of them said a word. Several times Suzanna was tempted to offer some sort of explanation, but when she tried to pull her thoughts together, all she had was a bunch of new lies. Lies that sounded as hollow as a tin drum.
Wait until tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow their discussion would be less heated. Then she could talk to him, find a way to work things out. Time; that’s all she was asking for. A few weeks, a month maybe. Bobby had held onto to his love for her through years of searching. He’d waited eight long years. If Gregg loved her, shouldn’t he be willing to wait a few weeks?
If you love someone, truly love them, you don’t give up. You find a
