Mountain Song by Ruby Laska

tastes, schooled in your Daddy’s mansion. A child
accustomed to having every fancy fulfilled.”
    “It wasn’t a fancy,”
she choked. “And I wasn’t a child. I was a woman by the time our affair was
over. You can claim at least part of the responsibility for that.”
    “Oh, you were a woman
in my bed,” Andy said sharply. “Your skill there showed a wisdom well beyond
your years. But you had never earned your own living, never balanced a
checkbook, never held a job or helped others. And then you talked about a
future. How could I believe you when you hadn’t yet even lived?”
    “Because I told you,” Claudia said. “You should
have believed me because I told you what I wanted.”
    “Oh, come off it. You
and I both know that you would have never lasted with me. The first time you
saw some trinket that wasn’t in our budget, it would have all been over.”
    “I told you I would
pay my way. I offered to rent a place for us. I begged you to give up your job
so you could concentrate on your studies—”
    “—and return to
you at night, your paid gigolo, right?” Andy saw the tears streaking down her
cheeks but couldn’t stop. “No! I would not have you live with me unless I could
afford to support us. At the very least to pay my half. You never understood
that. Your money was an insult and every time you waved it at me you cut me
deep. I knew that the minute things were on the line you’d bolt—and you
proved me right, didn’t you?”
    Claudia dug her fists into
the soft fabric of the afghan, pressing her knuckles against her thighs, hard. His
words were like icy rain. She hadn’t been able to convince him then—why
should she think she could now? And why bother?
    Besides, maybe there
was some truth to what he said. Not much, but a little. Yes, she’d wanted to be
with him, wanted something permanent after she’d shared a level of intimacy she’d
never imagined possible. But it was true that at 21 her idea of a life together
was naive, to say the least.
    She’d imagined
building a love nest for him, following him back to school, spending her days
decorating the apartment and making wonderful meals for him. Marrying him, of
course. It seemed as though there was enough money in her trust fund to last
forever, if they were careful, and since she’d reached legal majority it was
all hers if she wanted it.
    That’s as far as she’d
thought. There was nothing in her picture of her own dreams, her own plans. She
had no goals of her own. Being his wife would be enough.
    But he’d been wise
enough to see that she was fooling herself. It never would have—never could have worked the way she had
planned. He would have bridled at having his way paid—even she should
have understood his stubborn pride enough to comprehend that.
    And as for
Claudia...well, that young girl quickly grew up and learned that she wanted to
make something of herself as well, to have a career and keep learning and make
her own way in the world.
    And then there was
Paul.
    “I’m sorry,” Claudia
said. “It’s all so long ago. I’m not trying to make excuses for myself. I know
I didn’t handle things right. But you have to believe that—however wrong
I might have been, I was acting out of love. I didn’t want to drive you away. In
my own way I was trying to—I don’t know, tie you to me in some way. I saw
how you worked. I saw the way you committed yourself to your future as if—sometimes
it seemed like nothing else mattered to you. It scared me to think that there
might not be room for me in your picture.”
    Andy leaned slightly
forward, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped, his expression
inscrutable. “It was a long time ago,” he finally said. “I had a rough road to
navigate. I gave everything to it. Maybe that was wrong. When my Dad died, I
went through a lot of self-doubt. Thinking I’d cheated myself of those last
months with him. But I knew he would have wanted it this way. For me to
succeed,