Page 59 of Nineteen Seventy-Six

“Robyn has the most beautiful golden hair,” Cordelia went on, musing, as if she ever mused, ever took time to dream, or consider. “Reminds me a little of yours, Catherine.”

Catherine looked as if she might regurgitate what little she’d eaten.

Colin tilted his head and grinned as he regarded his wife. “It is a little like Cat’s. But Carolina has the same hair.”

“Yes. Of course,” Cordelia replied, but shot Charles a meaningful look across the bow.

Catherine stood and excused herself to clear the table. Cordelia dutifully followed, and for a moment Charles almost did as well, for fear of what Cordelia might say to Catherine. He didn’t know where she was going with her pointed comments over dinner, but she was gunning for Cat, that was for certain.

As soon as they were safely in the kitchen, Colin’s façade crumbled.

“Oh, Huck.” He sighed and sank into his hair. “That was okay, wasn’t it? It seemed okay. It felt right.”

“Dinner?”

“Dinner. Us, all together again.”

“If you mean us minus Cordelia, yeah, it wasn’t shabby.”

“She’s certainly an unusual woman,” Colin said. Only once had he ever ventured an unkind word about Cordelia, and it was right after he’d learned about her choreographed hysterectomy.

“Weird to see her get excited about a baby she’s never met in person when she can’t even be bothered to get excited about her son,” Charles replied.

“That was strange,” Colin agreed.

“Has she…”

“Cat?”

Colin sighed again. He understood the rest of the question, and the questions that would follow. “You know she was at Rory and Carolina’s, but if you’re hoping for answers, I never got any either.”

“She was gone for half a year. More.”

“I know.”

“Don’t you want to know? I’d want to. I’d fucking need to.”

Colin flashed him a sad look. “You’d be surprised what you think you need, Charles, when what you really need is returned to you. You’d be surprised how much you can overlook, to have something back.”

“But, she hasn’t said anything? At all?”

“She said…” Colin ran his fingers over his wine glass. “She said she had some growing up to do. And that she expected more of our marriage than she thought I could give.”

Charles winced. “Ouch.” He drained his wine glass and refilled both their cups.

“Yes, but she was right. You were right, when you gave me that advice about how I was treating her. I didn’t mean to. I’ve loved her since… since the first day. Since the first moment. But I wasn’t fair to her, and if I want my marriage to work, then this isn’t a battle I can win. Even to fight it is to lose.”

“That’s all she said? Pinned it on you?”

“She didn’t pin it on me, Charles. It was both her immaturity and my inability to expect anything less than perfection. She needed time, and I’m not going to push, not going to ask what she did with that time, because she’s here now, isn’t she?”

“I guess, but—”

“She came back to me, and that’s more important to me than answers that will only break my heart.”

“You need to make up with Lisette.”

Charles pressed the bear to Nicolas’ face, wiggling it, searching for a giggle, but Nicolas didn’t like that bear anymore. He hadn’t for a while, it seemed, because he looked only annoyed and went on to play with the stuffed kitty.

---