Package Deal(78)

She frowned at her mother. “I beg your pardon?”

“Cece told me all about Marcus, how he likes the same books she does, and how she thought she might want to marry him when she got older, but now she doesn’t. She said he made you cry. But she wouldn’t tell me why.”

Amanda’s face flushed. “You know he’s a colleague and he asked me to co-lead the summer workshop. And you also know I’ve always wanted to do that.” She rose and headed upstairs, unwilling to get into an argument. “I need some sleep. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll get ready for bed. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“But it’s not even nine o’clock! Since when do you go to bed before midnight?” Her mother rose and followed her upstairs.

“Since I’m very tired and I have fall session classes to prepare now that I’m home.”

Amanda went into her bedroom and shut the door, ending their conversation. After hearing her mother go back downstairs and turn on the TV, she escaped to the bathroom. While she soaked in the bubbles Cece insisted on using after her casts were off, Amanda let the tears come. How was she going to tell Cece about Marcus? Were his words—that he loved her—enough? And if it wasn’t, what must she do or say for Cece to accept Marcus and give him a chance to tell her himself—to her face what he had said so many times in the woods? Every night that they were there. And since they loved each other, why shouldn’t they get married? Except her lingering fears chilled her heart whenever she contemplated it.

After Dylan, she had vowed she would never allow herself to feel she needed a man for her own fulfillment. But were need and want the same thing? She slapped the water, splashing it against the walls of the tub in her frustration. Maybe what she needed was a good night’s sleep, one uninterrupted by lovemaking.

But when she climbed into bed, all she could see was Marcus waiting for her in the huge four-poster at his house in the woods. Maybe she was wrong to tell him they couldn’t live together. She loved it when they made love, when they shared ideas about their classes, their writing, whenever they were together—professional things as well as activities away from work—with or without Cece—but was that enough? And after all that, why was she so miserable when they were apart?

Maybe she should reconsider what he’d suggested. He had told her he loved her, and Cece, too—so many times during the workshop. Maybe it was her. But she didn’t want to place Cecelia in a position of not answering people’s questions about Marcus honestly, and if they moved into his house, people would ask—Sam especially, and her parents. And maybe Cecelia wouldn’t have her as a friend anymore. If she told Cece they were engaged … would that be enough? She’d have to talk to Marcus about that.

Amanda slept uneasily and rose the next morning feeling no more rested than she had the night before. If her mother noticed, she said nothing during breakfast. When Amanda and Cecelia took her to the airport to see her off, the older woman held her tongue until she was ready to board the plane.

“I’ll email you when I get home. There’s something we need to discuss.”

The look in her eye told Amanda her mother would not be dissuaded. She drove home wondering what questions that email might contain.





Chapter 15



The day after her mother flew home to Minnesota, Amanda picked up the phone hoping it was Marcus.

“Amanda?”

“Oh, hi, Mother. Did you get home all right?”

“Yes. I said I was going to email you. I changed my mind. We need to talk.”

Amanda paced between the stove and the table. “About what?”

“About that man—Marcus.”

“What about him?”

“When are you going to learn? Cecelia told me you said you loved him, but he refused to tell you he loved you. Is that true?”

She bit her lip. “It’s not quite that simple.”

“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” her mother continued as if she hadn’t heard her. “In my opinion, you have to stop mooning over him and move on. If a man cannot state his—his intentions—how he feels about you and Cecelia—then he’s not worth your time.”

Her mother, whose own life had been so traditional, until her husband, Amanda’s father, died. Her mother, a recently converted women’s libber?

“You made one mistake—with Dylan—well, actually two, but who’s counting?You can’t afford to make another one.”

“What are you getting at, Mother?” Amanda turned on the stove.

“You have a child to take care of. Cecelia is more important than any man—even a good-looking one. You have to know that by this time. Cecelia’s friend, Sam, told me he’s ‘hot’—where she gets such language, I don’t even want to imagine.”