to see Carter again.
He ordered glasses of champagne. They toasted his return to New York, finding an apartment, beginning a new life. But Grace realized it was a new start for her, as well. Then Carter proposed a second toast.
“Let’s hope the joys of the future will be strengthened by those of the past.”
She found his remark thoughtful and somehow profound. Grace had always thought of Benson with genuine feeling and warmth and regret, and without guilt she smiled at the man sitting opposite her. Grace began to relax in his company.
After they’d placed their order, Carter took a purple envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table to her.
He said nothing, offered no explanation and Grace stared at the envelope suspiciously. She did not ask what it might be; but her sudden rapid heartbeat and her flushed skin signaled that she’d reached her own conclusion.
“Does this have anything to do with Valentine’s Day? Because if it does, you’re a day early.”
He shook his head as he watched her. “To my way of thinking, I’m a few years late. Better late than never.”
Grace finally reached for the envelope. It was flat, but thick. She slid her fingers inside and removed the contents. As she leafed through them, her surprise increased...as did a new anxiety. There was a card with a sweet, romantic, but tasteful, greeting. It made her smile as she read it through twice. Then she realized that the other contents consisted of two cruise tickets—one issued in her name, and one in Carter’s—although they had different staterooms. She was unable to utter a single word.
“This is my way of saying that not only do I want you to be my Valentine, Grace, I want you to be mine period. I want to go back to square one, start over and court you. I want us to get to know each other. We have a lot of catching up to do. I want to do all the him and her things I’ve never done before, and I want to do them with you.”
She couldn’t breathe. She felt dizzy, like the room was slowly turning on its side. “I guess I can’t say this is so sudden.”
“Maybe for you, but not me. I told you the last time we saw each other that telling you my feelings was a long time coming.”
She silently put everything back into the envelope; her gaze upon him was troubled but pleaded for understanding. “You’re asking me to go away with you. I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Am I wrong to believe you have feelings for me?”
There it was. Truth or dare.
“No,” she said with some relief.
“Are you worried about the kids, and about how Marjorie will react to our being together?”
“Yes.”
“Are you worried about being alone with me?” he asked more gently.
She merely nodded.
Their dinner was served, and Carter wisely guided the conversation to a general discussion of all the places he wanted to travel to in his lifetime. Grace eventually confessed she had her own short list. On it was a trip to Disney World, which didn’t need an explanation. Ever since Benson’s death, she’d imagined the rest of her life alone, as if she’d been banished forever to widowhood. There were the children, of course, but Grace had prepared herself for living without a partner, a lover and soul mate. She was ready to accept her fate. Carter’s interest and his intentions had not eliminated that, but had added a new wrinkle in the fabric of her life that was not so easy to deal with.
Grace knew that Carter was disappointed in her response. He watched her closely throughout dinner, trying not to look like he was staring. She knew he was looking for a sign of hope or encouragement, rather than an outright no.
Silence eventually took over as her mind went into free fall, and a flurry of vignettes and episodes from the past, moments that had been charged with emotion, innocent yet titillating, exciting but dangerous. All the wishful thinking she’d ruthlessly suppressed rose to the surface. She’d married Benson because she loved him; he had been a good man with enormous promise, but he was gone.
So, why did she continue to feel guilty and ashamed?
Carter took care of the bill. They stepped out into the cold February night. The rain had turned to a light snow. He began walking to his parked car, then realized that Grace hung back.
“Carter, I...I’d rather go home by myself on the train.”
The muscles tightened in Carter’s jaw, and he nodded. “All right.”
She touched her temple. “My head is spinning. I can’t think straight. I’m sorry.”
He took her elbow. “I’ll drive you to the station.”
They were both silent, both deep in thought, neither having any idea what the next step was. Outside the gate to her train track, they stood facing one another. He held out the envelope. After a moment she silently took it.
“I don’t think this came at you out of left field. I kept my distance out of respect for Benson. But then I asked myself, what am I waiting for?”
“But...to go on a cruise together,” she stammered.
He grinned gently at her. “You gave me the idea. I counted on that when I asked you what you would want.”
“You were pretty sure of yourself,” she said grimly.
“Only about wanting to be with you. But I’m not out of the woods, it seems. You could still turn me down. If that happens, I’ll deal with it. The cruise leaves in ten days. I want you to come with me, Grace.”
She was afraid to ask, what if she didn’t?
An announcement echoed through the terminal about the departure of train 317 to Westchester, leaving on Track 29.
“No matter what else happens, there’s something I have to do before you go,” Carter began.
Grace stood waiting. She knew exactly what it was. Carter put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. She knew instantly that this was more than caring, more than affection. His mouth descended, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head so he would fit properly atop her open lips. The first touch went to her head, his mouth gently moving and caressing hers. She became pliant and willing and easy and breathless.
The euphoria was like a drug that she’d been without for so long; the sensation was dramatic and overwhelming.
Grace let Carter take his fill. Even she held nothing back, enjoying the delicious expertise of his embrace, the sensual dance of his tongue around hers. It was a sweet awakening.
And, very possibly, a bittersweet goodbye.
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