Had to Be You by Lyn Cote

Author:Lyn Cote [Cote, Lyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyn Cote

At the Benjamin Hotel, Bette paced the floral carpet in her room. The afternoon had passed, the evening had crawled by, and now the long night yawned before her. Only a little after 10:00 p.m. her parents in their suite were probably already sound asleep. While Bette, still in her street clothing, stared at the bedside phone, willing it to ring. Why had Ted called her this morning and then not kept his appointment to call her again?

Bette found herself raking her arms with her nails. Nerves. Just nerves. To distract herself, she sat down at the desk in her room and took up pen and hotel stationery. “Dear Curt,” she penned, “the christening went well. Jamie was late, of course. He’ll probably be late for his own wedding...” She looked at the final word she’d written. She’d meant to write “funeral.” She dropped the pen and, unable to prevent it, began sobbing.

I was supposed to be Mrs. Curtis Sinclair this Thanksgiving.

Her arms ached with wanting Curt. She’d waited four long years. And then Gretel had sent her regrets and Curt had preferred to be drafted rather than let anyone think he was a coward. That was it, wasn’t it? A foolish, little-boy way of thinking. At least, that was how it had struck Bette when Curt had finally made the decision. And it had hurt her even as she had been relieved in a way. In the final analysis, who cared what people thought? The war was coming anyway—anyone could see that. She’d pleaded with Curt to no avail.

We could have had a few months, maybe a year together before he had to go. Why didn’t you marry me, Curt? Then everything would be as it should be. Ted wouldn’t have called me if I had married. This wouldn’t have started all over again. But she was too honest not to admit that she wasn’t unhappy Ted had called. Why did life have to be so complicated? She sprang up, restless. Where was Ted? Was he lying somewhere hurt...dead? And suddenly she wasn’t weeping because Curt wasn’t there. She was weeping because Ted hadn’t called back.

The phone rang.

She grabbed it, cutting off the second ring.

“Bette, it’s me, Ted.”

“Why didn’t you call earlier? I’ve been so worried.” She couldn’t keep the quaver out of her tear-thickened voice. She wiped away her tears with her fingertips.

“Sorry. Really am sorry. Just. . . something really strange happened today. I’m still working on it.”

“Strange? You’re still in the city, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, did you hear about that accident in Times Square today?”

“Yes, it was on the evening radio news.” She twisted the black phone cord between her fingers.

“Well, I can’t say any more over the phone, but that’s what held me up from calling you — ”

“Why?” Her mind raced ahead. Ted wasn’t calling her just to pass the time of day.

“I take it that your parents have turned in for the night.”

“Yes.” She felt herself revving inside —like a car idling on high.

“Good. I’ll be at your hotel in about fifteen minutes.

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