92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [14]
“What do you mean?”
“We miss James, too. Bobby hardly knows what to do with himself. You’re not the only one who’s hurting!”
Her sister was right. Christie hadn’t stopped to consider what James’s leaving had meant to Bobby and her sister. James had been Bobby’s closest friend for many years. He was Bobby’s confidant as well as his driver.
Recently an enterprising reporter had revealed that James was once a chess prodigy himself, and that he’d suffered an emotional collapse in his early teens and spent time in a mental institution. Afterward he’d disappeared from the chess world. When the news story broke, Bobby’s friend had panicked and run.
The fact that James had deserted her and Bobby and Teri was cruel enough. And Christie knew she hadn’t been much comfort to them because she was too devastated by what he’d done. She’d tried not to fall in love with him; again and again she’d rebuffed him, and still he’d pursued her.
James was unlike any man she’d ever known. He hadn’t rushed her into bed, although she would’ve gone willingly if he’d asked. He didn’t. Instead, he’d broken down her resistance, bit by bit, ever patient, undemanding and kind. No woman, no matter how emotionally strong, could resist such tender persuasion. Christie certainly couldn’t.
Just before he disappeared, she’d laid out her past to him and she hadn’t prettied it up, either. She’d told him everything, about the men she’d been with, the marriage that had crumbled under the weight of alcoholism and physical abuse. She’d left nothing out. If he was going to love her and be part of her life, she didn’t want anything hidden in the shadows, to leap out at some unexpected time.
James had listened quietly, had held her and kissed her—and hadn’t said a single word about his own history.
Christie had offered him her trust, something she’d sworn she’d never give another man. She’d even started thinking about being married to James, having a baby with him…What hurt so badly was that he hadn’t loved her enough to share his past.
Well, that was that. Another painful lesson learned. James was out of her life now.
For good.
It didn’t matter if he returned, and everyone seemed to assume that eventually he would. She was through.
“You didn’t come for Christmas,” Teri complained. Apparently it still rankled that Christie had missed the big family get-together. But as far as Christie was concerned, Christmas dinner with her ragtag family wasn’t any real loss.
“I was volunteering, remember?” This was true, but she’d already decided not to show up at Teri and Bobby’s place before she made that arrangement.
Teri looked over at her with big brown doe-eyes. “You were…volunteering?”
“Yeah. I told you. I served meals in Tacoma at the homeless shelter.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“I delivered Christmas baskets to needy families, too, but that was before Christmas.”
Teri shocked her when she suddenly began to laugh. “And I accused you of not paying attention to me. I’m almost as bad. I completely forgot you were doing that. Here I thought you were probably in some tavern, instead of with Bobby and me.”
“No way.” She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but at Christmas she’d still felt emotionally shaky. Being with Teri and Bobby was risky—there were too many memories associated with James at her sister’s home. And it was hard to watch those two, with their romantic bliss and cozy domestic life. Her pain was too close to the surface. She was better now, stronger than she’d been in a long while.
“Then why haven’t you answered my calls?”
Christie didn’t have an explanation for that. All right, so maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought.
“You’re drinking?”
“A few beers. Don’t worry, I didn’t get drunk.” Although she’d downed enough alcohol to leave her with a killer headache. She figured the booze had affected her like this because she hadn’t been drinking much lately.
“You were too drunk to drive.”
Christie denied that. She wasn’t stupid; she knew her limit.
Teri didn’t seem to