Seasons of the Heart (3 page)

“You won’t laugh if I tell you this, will you?”

“Of course not, Phillip.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about Chinese food except chow mein, either.”

They looked at one another for a long moment, then broke into gales of laughter. For the moment the tension was broken.

When Ann saw the waiter placing the plate of pork chow mein in front of her, she felt a little bit queasy. True, she hadn’t been reared kosher, but—just the thought of it!

“I think this is awfully good. Don’t you, Ann?” asked Phillip, adding a little more soy sauce to the steamed rice.

“Oh … just wonderful, Phillip. Delicious.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Oh, yes—absolutely!”

As the meal progressed, the tension between them returned. What do we talk about now? Ann wondered. They couldn’t keep on talking about the food.

Finally she asked, “Have you seen Ruthie and Kenny since their wedding?” She already knew the answer, of course, since she’d asked Ruthie any number of times.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy. How about you?”

“Oh, I have lunch with Ruthie every Saturday.”

Stirring her chow mein with her fork, she took a dainty bite. “It was a beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it really was.”

Although this seemed a perfect opening, Phillip couldn’t muster the courage to say all the things he had been thinking. Lying in bed fantasizing a conversation was not quite the same as sitting across the table from the actual girl, a girl who would probably think you were out of your mind for asking her to marry you on the first date.

How could he explain that he felt as though he’d known her all his life? How could he tell her that she’d been constantly in his thoughts since he’d last seen her? He had no idea whether or not she even liked him. And if she did accept his proposal, would he be able to support her and his parents as well? No, he didn’t have the right to ask Ann to share the burdens of his life. He still had his parents to take care of. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. He simply couldn’t ask her tonight.

Suddenly he looked up at Ann. She looked so beautiful in the soft light. Why the hell was he analyzing all this? Love was a spontaneous thing—it made its own luck.

While all this was running through Phillip’s head, Ann was having a few daydreams of her own. As the waiter set down fortune cookies and a fresh pot of tea, she hummed “Tea for Two” under her breath and thought of pouring coffee every morning for Phillip before he went to the office.

Ann broke open a fortune cookie, took out the slip of paper, and held her breath as she read the prophecy. Oh, my God, she thought. It was unbelievable, but there it was in print: “A tall, dark, handsome stranger will spirit you off to paradise.”

Ann glanced across the table, and in that magical moment, their eyes met. It was just like in the movies! All the problems which had seemed insurmountable to Phillip a few minutes ago seemed to vanish. His emotions overwhelmed him.

“Ann,” he blurted, “I’ve tried very hard to fight it, but you mean more to me than anything else in the world. I love you … I know I don’t have any right, but …”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “Of course, I have no way of knowing how you feel about me.”

Ann was completely bewildered. Although he had just said the words she’d dreamed of hearing, instead of being deliriously happy, she felt a strange resentment. Why had he failed to call her all these weeks? Why had he made her suffer so? Afraid of what she might say, she pulled her hand away from his and began toying absently with the crumbs on the table.

Phillip’s heart sank as he looked at her expression. Obviously she did not share his feelings.

But when Ann finally looked up, she said, “I love you. I have from the very beginning.”

“Have you really?” Phillip stammered, happy beyond his wildest dreams.

“Yes.”

“I never would have known it tonight,” he said naively.

“Well, Phillip, you didn’t even call me for almost two months! Why did it take so long?”

“I thought it would be best, Ann, if I stayed out of your life.”

“Best? I don’t understand. I thought that falling in love was a very natural thing. Why are we complicating this?”

“That’s the way it should be. But I have a lot of problems, Ann … problems with myself that I had to come to terms with.”

“And have you?”

“No,” Phillip said sadly. “No, I haven’t.”

“Now that we know we love each other, can’t you share them with me?”

He sighed. “You see, darling, I don’t have anything to offer you. And I don’t think it’s right to ask you to struggle with me. Being poor can make life very difficult.”

“Just knowing you love me is—everything,” Ann whispered.

Once again he reached across the table and took her hand. “I’d give anything in the world, Ann, to be able to marry you now. But I have an obligation to my parents. And my salary is so small, I wouldn’t be able to maintain two households.”

“But, Phillip, when two people love each other, it doesn’t matter if they have to struggle. I’ve been poor all my life; it won’t matter to me if we don’t have anything. We’ll have each other.”

Looking at her, he realized that there was a great difference in their approach to life. Ann’s poverty seemed to be the source of her strength, while his early wealth seemed to have sapped his innate drive and energy. Maybe with Ann as an inspiration he could make something of his life. Maybe he could—at last—live up to his great-grandfather’s image.

“Darling,” he said more forcefully, “we’re going to have to wait. I’m sorry. But in a year or so I’ll be more valuable to the firm and should receive a good raise. Would you be willing to go steady with me until then?”

A year was an eternity to Ann. She wanted to get married now! But she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Phillip was worth waiting for.

“Yes,” she said tremulously. “I’ll wait.”

Forgetting that he was in a small, crowded restaurant, Phillip got up, pulled her from her chair and took her in his arms. Softly, he whispered, “You’ve made me so happy, Ann.”

“I hope I always will.”

After Phillip left her that night, Ann stood in the front hall, thrilling to the memory of his kisses. His lips against hers had been so tender as he murmured, “You’re so beautiful, Ann. I love you so much. How did I get so lucky?”

The next morning, Ann sat up in bed with an overwhelming feeling of dread. It should have been the happiest day of her life, but instead she had to brave telling her father and stepmother. She was fairly sure her father would understand, but Stella had resented her since she was a little girl and would surely do her best to take the joy out of her happy news. Sighing, Ann put on her robe and went downstairs.

Ben looked across the breakfast table at his daughter. Ann looked more like her mother every year, and the reminder had become increasingly painful as Ann had grown to young womanhood. He could never forgive himself for the fact that Ann had suffered so because of his marriage to Stella. At the time he believed that he was securing a mother for his child as well as a wife, but it hadn’t worked out that way. Stella had been jealous of Ann from the start, and Ben often found himself siding against Ann in order to keep peace. He hated himself for his weakness; but then, Stella was a very different woman from Ann’s mother—strong and determined. It was easier to give in to her wishes than to create more dissension by asserting himself.

When he had met Stella, she had been recently widowed, and at the beginning of their relationship, Stella had appeared to be genuinely fond of Ann. He was shocked by her reaction shortly after they married when he suggested Ann call her stepmother “Mommy.”

“How dare you suggest the child call me that. I’m not her mother—I’m your wife.”

Ann stood at the top of the stairs, listening to the loud voices below. She had been sent to bed earlier, but had been roused by the sounds of the argument; she had never heard voices raised in anger at home and it frightened her. Now, quickly, she ran back to her room and locked her door. She felt terribly guilty that she had been the cause of a fight between her daddy and his new wife. She must have been a very bad girl for Stella not to want to be her mother.

Stella had become neither Ann’s mother nor even her friend. And when a year after his marriage Ben had a massive coronary, he found he was no longer in a position to modify Stella’s behavior. After his illness he was unable to continue running his cleaning business, and without him it threatened to go under. Were it not for Stella, he would have lost it. But she had lent him the money necessary to stay afloat. At least he had thought it was a loan. As it turned out, she owned the plant and she owned him.

Ben was brought out of his reverie by the shrill sound of Stella’s voice asking, “What time did you get home last night?”

Nervously, Ann answered, “Gee … I don’t know … I guess about eleven o’clock.”

“It was later than that,” Stella corrected her quickly.

Ann found herself apologizing. “You’re probably right. I suppose I didn’t look at the time.”

“Doesn’t it ever occur to you that someone might be concerned when you’re late? But of course this is nothing new. You’re never on time, and you’re never considerate.”

Ann’s nerves were already frayed, and she wanted to scream out, Don’t treat me like a child! I’m twenty-one years old.

But noticing the look of pain on her father’s face, she once again tried to keep the peace. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more considerate.”

Stella nodded. “Who did you go out with?”

“His name is Phillip Coulter.”

Stella thought her heart had stopped beating for a moment. Her fists clenched and the muscles in her neck became taut. Coulter! That name had been her nemesis, and life was conspiring against her once again, threatening her with the past. Almost fearfully she repeated the name to herself: Coulter.

But maybe she was just conjuring up ghosts. Even though Coulter wasn’t a common name, maybe Ann’s young man wasn’t related to the family she hated, the family that had made her the bitter, cruel woman she was today.

“What kind of a name is Coulter?” she asked in a calm voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is it Irish?”

“No, it’s Jewish.”

“Jewish?” Stella said. “How do you know?”

In spite of herself, Ann laughed mirthlessly. “I just know.”

“But Coulter is not a Jewish name.”

“Maybe not, but he comes from a distinguished Jewish family.”

“Oh? And what does this distinguished Jewish family do for a living?”

“Phillip is an attorney and his family used to own a chain of men’s shops.”

Stella almost fainted. It was the family! Of all the men in the world, Ann had to pick Eva Coulter’s son. “Used to?” Stella said in a cold voice.

“Yes, they lost them during the Depression. Ruthie told me about it.”

Ann saw that Stella’s face was almost viciously contorted. She couldn’t understand. On the verge of tears, she burst out, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Doing
what?
”

“Interrogating me like this!”

Ben popped a nitroglycerine under his tongue. When Stella was hell-bent on one of her tirades it did no good to protest. So he bit his lip and silently cursed his weakness. He wanted to clap his hands over his ears to block out the sound of her harsh voice saying, “You see what I mean, Ben? This is what I’ve put up with all these years. You always accuse me of not being motherly towards Ann, and here I show a decent motherly concern over who Ann goes out with, and she resents me.”

“I don’t resent your concern, Stella,” Ann said softly. “It’s the way you question me. You make me feel as though I’ve done something wrong.”

Stella enjoyed seeing Ann squirm. “Well, how did you meet this young man?” she asked.

“At Ruthie’s wedding.”

“At Ruthie’s wedding? Why, that was months ago! You mean to say that you’ve been seeing him all this time and haven’t said a word? Why? Were you ashamed to bring him home?”

“No, that isn’t it at all. Let me explain.”

“Explain? What is there to explain?”

Ann felt hopelessly drained. Her supreme moment was not quite the scene she had fantasized. The night before, she had pictured walking into the living room hand in hand with Phillip and breathlessly announcing: “Stella, Daddy, we’re engaged!”

Now she said nervously, her heart pounding and her hands trembling, “Stella, we’re going to be married.”

The statement caught Stella off-guard. She sat with her mouth open, in complete shock. Then, quickly, her expression changed to one of unmistakable contempt.

Ann was completely bewildered. She knew Stella resented her, but her stepmother’s reactions this morning seemed unreasonable even for her. Finally Ann pleaded softly, “Please be happy for me, Stella. Please? I haven’t had much happiness.”

The room was silent. Finally, Ben seemed to find his voice. “Ann, don’t you think it was only right that you bring this young man home to meet me? I am your father, after all.”

“Please, Papa, don’t be angry. I didn’t know how Phillip felt about me until last night. It was the first time we’d gone out. I mean, on a real date.”

Ben was about to respond when Stella said quickly, “You want us to believe that you went out with a boy for the first time last night and now you’re engaged?”

Ann fought to hold back the tears. Finding her voice, she tried to explain why Phillip had held back. Even how she said they would have to wait for at least a year before getting married. “I guess it sounds a little unconventional,” she admitted, “but … there really aren’t any rules for people in love.”

“You think it sounds unconventional?” said Stella. “I think that he’s playing some kind of game.”

“That’s enough, Stella!” Ben uncharacteristically interrupted his wife, making her fury even greater.

“What’s wrong with you, Ben?” Stella shrilled. She knew that without knowledge of her previous relationship with the Coulters, she must appear entirely unreasonable, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her gaze shifted to Ann. “You expect us to give you our blessing? We haven’t even met him. He hasn’t even given you a ring, has he?” Without waiting for an answer she attacked again. “Why won’t he marry you now?”