Read Online The Burning Point by Mary Jo Putney - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Jo Putney
Tags: Fiction, General, Family & Relationships, Romance, Contemporary, Abuse, Family Violence, Wrecking
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years had passed when there had been no contact between her and Charles, though she'd noted the announcement of his wedding, and hoped he'd be happy. But Baltimore was a small town in many ways, and they moved in the same circles. Eventually their paths crossed at the wedding of a mutual friend. Barbara and Sam had adored each other with Mediterranean gusto, which made it easy for Julia and Charles to pick up the threads of their lifetime friendship again.
Soon, the four of them had developed the special bond that exists when each member of a pair of couples truly enjoys every other person. That bond had only been strengthened as they raised their children together. When Sam needed an attorney, he'd retained Charles, who had ended up knowing most of the Corsi family secrets, except for the painful one of Sam's early infidelity. Barbara, cut off from her Orthodox family for marrying a gentile, had treated Julia like a sister. In her turn, Julia had found Barbara's company exhilarating in something of the same way she enjoyed Sam.
Thinking of all the happy years, she said, "I've given thanks often that we became friends again. You and Barbara and your girls enriched our lives immeasurably."
"The same is true of you and Sam and your children." He finished the last of his drink and set the glass aside. "I'd had a very clear mental picture of you and me happily growing old together, so I was stunned when you broke things off. But...relieved, too. For an engaged man, I was finding the sexy brunette who had the office next to mine entirely too attractive."
"Barbara, I assume?"
"Yes. The fact that you were brave enough to defy expectations and marry someone who 'wasn't our kind' gave me the courage to do the same. I never regretted it."
Nor had Julia. Grief, total and overwhelming, flooded through her. "Charles, how long does it take to accept the finality of death? I'm still in denial. I half expect Sam to come bounding in here, glowing with energy and trailing demolition dust."
"I wish I had an answer. Even after two years, sometimes it's a shock to walk into the kitchen and not find Barbara throwing together one of her instant gourmet meals." Charles regarded her with compassion. "One thing I do know, Julia. It will get worse before it gets better. But in time--it will get better."
She buried her face in her hands. "God damn Sam Corsi. God damn him to hell ."
∗ ∗ ∗
The wipers slid intermittently across Donovan's windshield as he drove north on Charles Street. Wet snow had iced the pavement and chased most Baltimoreans inside. Controlling the vehicle took concentration even with four-wheel drive, but it wasn't enough to banish thoughts of Sam's insane will. The idea of living with Kate, seeing her every day, was paralyzing. Terrifying.
Horribly tempting.
It had been snowing like this the night they'd decided to get married. Donovan hadn't thought marriage was possible when they were both still in college. Then, over pizza after a movie date, Kate produced a business-like sheet of calculations. She'd totaled up his scholarships at Loyola College, the income she got from a small trust fund, estimated wages from summer jobs, then balanced it against projected expenses to prove they could afford to marry.
He hadn't liked the idea of relying partially on her money, but was ready to accept anything that meant they could be together. Privately, he recognized a profound desire to secure her as his own before she woke up and realized she could do better elsewhere.
On the way back to the Corsi house, as the knowledge she was his forever sank in, he'd spun his uncle's car in circles in the slippery snow of empty intersections, whooping like a maniac. Kate had alternated between laughter and alarm, afraid that the police would arrest them, or a huge and unforgiving truck would flatten them into the pavement.
But he'd gotten her home safely. Outside the front door, they kissed so long they'd both had snowflakes caught in
Soon, the four of them had developed the special bond that exists when each member of a pair of couples truly enjoys every other person. That bond had only been strengthened as they raised their children together. When Sam needed an attorney, he'd retained Charles, who had ended up knowing most of the Corsi family secrets, except for the painful one of Sam's early infidelity. Barbara, cut off from her Orthodox family for marrying a gentile, had treated Julia like a sister. In her turn, Julia had found Barbara's company exhilarating in something of the same way she enjoyed Sam.
Thinking of all the happy years, she said, "I've given thanks often that we became friends again. You and Barbara and your girls enriched our lives immeasurably."
"The same is true of you and Sam and your children." He finished the last of his drink and set the glass aside. "I'd had a very clear mental picture of you and me happily growing old together, so I was stunned when you broke things off. But...relieved, too. For an engaged man, I was finding the sexy brunette who had the office next to mine entirely too attractive."
"Barbara, I assume?"
"Yes. The fact that you were brave enough to defy expectations and marry someone who 'wasn't our kind' gave me the courage to do the same. I never regretted it."
Nor had Julia. Grief, total and overwhelming, flooded through her. "Charles, how long does it take to accept the finality of death? I'm still in denial. I half expect Sam to come bounding in here, glowing with energy and trailing demolition dust."
"I wish I had an answer. Even after two years, sometimes it's a shock to walk into the kitchen and not find Barbara throwing together one of her instant gourmet meals." Charles regarded her with compassion. "One thing I do know, Julia. It will get worse before it gets better. But in time--it will get better."
She buried her face in her hands. "God damn Sam Corsi. God damn him to hell ."
∗ ∗ ∗
The wipers slid intermittently across Donovan's windshield as he drove north on Charles Street. Wet snow had iced the pavement and chased most Baltimoreans inside. Controlling the vehicle took concentration even with four-wheel drive, but it wasn't enough to banish thoughts of Sam's insane will. The idea of living with Kate, seeing her every day, was paralyzing. Terrifying.
Horribly tempting.
It had been snowing like this the night they'd decided to get married. Donovan hadn't thought marriage was possible when they were both still in college. Then, over pizza after a movie date, Kate produced a business-like sheet of calculations. She'd totaled up his scholarships at Loyola College, the income she got from a small trust fund, estimated wages from summer jobs, then balanced it against projected expenses to prove they could afford to marry.
He hadn't liked the idea of relying partially on her money, but was ready to accept anything that meant they could be together. Privately, he recognized a profound desire to secure her as his own before she woke up and realized she could do better elsewhere.
On the way back to the Corsi house, as the knowledge she was his forever sank in, he'd spun his uncle's car in circles in the slippery snow of empty intersections, whooping like a maniac. Kate had alternated between laughter and alarm, afraid that the police would arrest them, or a huge and unforgiving truck would flatten them into the pavement.
But he'd gotten her home safely. Outside the front door, they kissed so long they'd both had snowflakes caught in
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