Josie stared at David as the blood drained from her face. “A divorce?”
David’s hair was standing straight up, and he was wearing Cooper’s bathrobe. It was much too big for him, and it made him look like a little boy dressed in his father’s clothes.
“Josie, I’m not totally positive,” David said, “but I got the feeling that Cooper may have thought . . . well, he might have thought that the reason I was in your bed was . . . um . . . well, that I wasn’t there to sleep. At least not exactly. If you know what I mean.”
Josie laughed in disbelief. She had to laugh, or else she’d start crying. “Are you saying Cooper thinks we’re sleeping together?”
David looked slightly affronted. “Well, it’s not
that
unbelievable,” he said. “I mean, you’re a woman and I’m a man, and sometimes these things have been known to happen—”
Josie’s head was pounding and she pressed her hand against her forehead in an attempt to gather her thoughts. “David,
why
did you get the feeling that Cooper thinks we’re sleeping together?”
“It was something he said,” David said.
“Tell me.”
“Direct quote or paraphrase?”
“David, what did he
say
?”
“After he told me he was filing for divorce, he said, and I quote, ‘I thought you were my friend, you scumbag.’ His words. ‘You’re lucky I’m in a different state. If I were in New York, I’d fucking kill you.’ Again, his words.”
Josie started to cry.
“Oh, Josie, don’t cry,” David said.
“He’s jealous,” Josie said through her tears. “Cooper’s jealous.”
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” David said. “It’s a simple misunderstanding, that’s all. Don’t be sad—”
“I’m not sad,” Josie said, wiping her face and blowing her nose. “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because Cooper’s
jealous.”
“Josie, it’s been a long day, maybe you better go lie down—”
“Don’t you get it?” she said. “He wouldn’t be jealous if he didn’t love me.” She blew her nose again and smiled at David. “He still loves me.”
FOURTEEN
C
OOPER’S SHINY
red Mustang was in the driveway, but no one answered the door when Josie rang the bell. She unlocked the door and walked slowly through the place. It was empty. No one was home.
Three muddy pairs of boots sat—appropriately enough—in the mudroom off the kitchen. Ingredients for cinnamon toast were out on the counters, and some spilled sugar had not been wiped up. The kitchen table was covered with drawings—both Cooper’s and Lucy’s.
Cooper had turned the big downstairs den into a playroom and it was littered with big plastic toys and dolls and cars and other unidentifiable things, all in bright, primary colors.
The living room, though, was free and clear of toys, but the mantle of the fireplace was filled with framed photographs—pictures Cooper had taken of Ben and Lucy. And Josie. She was there, too, smiling warmly at Cooper through the lens of his camera.
Even though Cooper and Lucy and Ben weren’t at home, the entire house hummed with life in a way that it never had when Cooper and Josie had come here alone. It was a house meant to hold a family.
Where on earth could they be at ten o’clock in the morning, with the car still in the drive?
The playground.
There was a playground up at the top of the hill. It was one of those fancy big wooden things, built in the form of a castle. She and Cooper had found it the first time they’d gone for a walk, the first time he’d brought her up to this house.
It was a marvelous playground, perfect for playing make-believe, the kind of place that really made you believe in happily-ever-after.
Josie locked the door behind her and began to walk up the hill.
The morning was warm. Spring was definitely on its way. She’d noticed the crocuses growing along the side of the house—purple and white and yellow. Cooper had planted them there three years ago.
The playground’s narrow parking lot was filled with cars, and pre-school kids swarmed over the wooden structure. Mothers gathered in groups, some holding infants in their arms or even breastfeeding as they talked and laughed and . . . danced?
Josie stopped short, watching in disbelief as Cooper taught a bunch of pretty young mothers how to mambo. His hair was down loose around his shoulders, long and wavy and glistening with golden overtones in the morning sunlight. He was wearing blue jeans and a big off-white cotton fisherman’s sweater—the kind with the cables and bumps, the textured kind that’s especially nice to touch.
And it
was
getting touched, as Cooper danced with first one woman and then another.
She had no reason to be jealous, Josie tried to convince herself—after all these
were
married women, they posed no threat. Or did they? Josie crossed her arms, noticing several pairs of pretty cheeks flushed from more than mere exertion.
As Cooper smiled down at the woman he was dancing with, Josie felt more than just jealousy. She was angry. In fact, dammit, she was furious! This was the man who had been so jealous of David last night that he’d actually threatened divorce.
Divorce!
The word conjured up images of angst and depression and dark brooding and pain. Yet here he was now, dancing in the bright sunshine, clearly having a goddamned good time! And maybe
that
was what galled her the most. How could he be having a good time without
her
?
Unless . . .
Josie felt a sudden hot wave of panic flood through her. What if Cooper were serious about getting divorced? What if that decision was one he’d made a while ago, what if he’d already come to terms with it in his own head?
Lord, she’d never considered that possibility.
She turned away, intending to sneak back down the hill, back to the solitude of the house. She wanted to think, she told herself, but in truth, all she wanted was to run away.
Before she could make her escape, Lucy spotted her.
“Josie, Josie!” the little girl shouted from across the playground. She jumped off her swing and ran toward her aunt. “Cooper—Josie’s here! It’s Josie!”
So much for sneaking away undetected.
Cooper stared over at Josie, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. Surprise, hope, anger, disbelief, hostility, happiness—they were all there for a second or two. Unfortunately, anger was the one that stayed.
He came toward her slowly, stopping to scoop up Ben from a sandbox on his way over, giving her time to talk to Lucy—or rather to be talked to by Lucy.
The little girl had leapt into Josie’s arms, and now chattered full speed about flowers, a big rain storm, the puppies down the street, something about Ben and the shower, and something else about someone named Pam—a friend of Lucy’s, Josie managed to figure out.
“You sound like you’re having lots of fun,” Josie said as Lucy stopped to take a breath.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy said. “Winter’s over. I liked the snow, but I like the flowers better.”
“Me, too,” Josie said.
“Luce, why don’t you go play with Pam,” Cooper said. “Let me talk to Josie.”
Obediently, Lucy slid out of Josie’s arms and ran back toward the swings.
“She seems . . .” Josie couldn’t find a word good enough. Terrific? Wonderful? Content? Healed? She settled for “great.” “She seems great. She even seems happy.”
Cooper’s face softened slightly as he looked across the playground at the little girl. “She’s doing much better,” he said. “Somehow, it’s easier up here.”
From Cooper’s arms, Ben grinned at Josie. He held up his hands—they were covered with sand. “Ah-wa,” he said.
“Oh my God,” Josie said. “Is he talking?”
“Yep. And walking,” Cooper said.
“Ah-wa,” Ben repeated, more insistently this time.
“What is he saying?” Josie asked.
“Agua,”
Cooper said. “It means water in Spanish. He wants to wash his hands.” He carried Ben back to the sandbox. “Why bother washing,
chico,”
he said, “when we both know you’ll just get dirty all over again.”
Josie followed Cooper. “Ben’s first word is in
Spanish
?” she asked indignantly.
“Agua
wasn’t his first word,” Cooper said, brushing the sand off of his own hands. “His first word was
chico.”
Josie laughed in disbelief. “Also Spanish.” She shook her head. “That’s really nice, Cooper. I suppose you’re teaching Lucy to speak Spanish, too.”
“Of course.” Cooper moved away from Ben, hack to the split rail fence that surrounded the playground. He leaned against it and crossed his arms, still keeping an eye on the little boy. “This is the perfect time to teach them. Kids learn languages easier at this age.”
“It seems to me you need to do a little work with Ben in English,” Josie said. “If he only learns Spanish, he’s going to be at a disadvantage.”
“You really mean
you’ll
be at a disadvantage,” Cooper said.
Josie’s temper flared. “Are you doing this on purpose, Cooper?” she said. “Is that what this is? Are you purposely teaching Spanish to the baby to punish me—to shut me out?”
He straightened up, and she could see the muscles working in the side of his jaw as he looked down at her. “You have no goddamn right to be mad at
me,
” he said angrily. “You’re the one who’s shut
me
out.
You’re
the one who’s—shit, Josie, how could you just throw away what we had?”
“Me?” she said incredulously. “You’re the one using words like ‘divorce!’ ”
“You’re
the one screwing David Chase!”
More than one head turned in their direction.
“How could you believe that?” Josie said, making an effort to keep her voice low. “I let the man use my bed, that’s all it was. How could you even
think
I’d be unfaithful to you?”
“You hid the fact that you had an ulcer from me,” Cooper said. “If you could lie about that, you could lie about David.”
“Give me a break!” Josie took a deep breath, calming herself down. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to have a shouting match here in public. Some of the pretty young mothers were still eyeing the two of them, as if wondering who she was, and why Cooper was talking to her so intently. “I didn’t lie to you about the ulcer,” she said. “I just didn’t tell you.”
“Lying by omission,” Cooper said, crossing his arms again. “Big difference.”
Exasperated, Josie threw up her hands and walked away. But she quickly walked back toward him. “I came here to tell you something, dammit, and I’m not going to let you get me so pissed off that I forget to say it,” she said.
Josie’s eyes were lit with more than anger. As she glared up at Cooper, he could see the flame of passion and conviction in her eyes, and he knew that he’d been utterly wrong. Suddenly, without a doubt, he believed her. No way was she having an affair with David Chase.
“I love you,” she practically snarled at him. “And
only
you. I do
not
want a divorce, thank you very much. And if you want to get divorced, mister, you’re going to have a
big
ol’ fight on your hands.”
Josie spun on her heels and stalked away.
“Wait a minute! You can’t just say that then walk away—” Cooper said, but she didn’t stop. She walked out of the parking lot and started down the hill. “Where are you going?” he called after her.
“Back to New York,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Sorry I interrupted your dance class.”
“What, Joze, are you going to
walk
all the way?!”
“If I have to.”
“Yo, Luce!” Cooper shouted. He dashed to the sandbox and scooped up Ben and quite a bit of sand along with him. “Time to go!”
“Why is Josie walking so far ahead of us?” Lucy asked, as they hurried down the hill after her.
“She’s mad at me,” Cooper said. He held Ben in one arm, but now he picked Lucy up with the other and broke into a brisk trot.
“What’dya do? Break one of her toys?” Lucy asked.
“I said something I didn’t mean,” Cooper said, taking the stairs to the front porch two at a time.
“If you didn’t mean it,” Lucy wondered, “then why did you say it?”
“Good question,” Cooper said, putting her down to push open the door.
Josie was in the kitchen, using the telephone to call a cab. Cooper put Ben on the floor and quickly crossed the room. He used one finger to push the hang-up button.
“Shit!” Josie swore. “Cooper, I
just
got through—”
“Shoot,” he corrected her. “Josie, I love you, too.”
He was standing there, looking at her, still out of breath from running down the hill. His eyes were brilliant blue, pinning her in place as he gently took the receiver from her hands and hung it back in the telephone’s cradle. “God help me, but I still love you,” he said softly.
Josie felt her eyes fill with tears.
“Hey, Luce,” Cooper said, his eyes never leaving, Josie. “Why don’t you take Ben into the playroom and put on a videotape?”
“But you said we couldn’t watch TV anymore today—”
“I changed my mind,” Cooper said.
“Oh, boy! Come on, Ben,” Cooper heard Lucy say as he bent to kiss Josie.
Her lips tasted wonderful. They were so sweet and warm and—salty. Josie was crying, but her tears weren’t tears of joy.
“It’s not enough, is it?” she asked as he pulled back to look down at her. “I love you, Cooper, and you love me, but it’s just not enough anymore.”
The real bitch of it was, he had to agree. “Yeah,” he said, exhaling loudly in a frustrated version of a sigh. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. It’s
not
enough.”
Josie couldn’t stop her tears. She’d wanted Cooper to reassure her, to disagree, to tell her the same thing he’d told her before they were married—as long as they loved each other, their love
would
be enough.
The conversation they were having right now was much more frightening than the angry words they’d exchanged at the playground. At the playground, they’d fought over a misunderstanding. But there was no misunderstanding here. They were in perfect agreement now.
They agreed that their relationship could not continue as it had in the past. But Josie wasn’t in a position to do any changing—not for another seven months.
Still, she didn’t want to give up. “Cooper, we’ve compromised before—”
He cupped her face with his hands.
“I’ve
compromised, Joze,” he said quietly. “You’ve always gotten what you want.”
That was true. Josie knew that Cooper’s words were true, and that made her stomach hurt. He’d put up with her for all these years. God, how he must resent her . . .
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I’m willing to compromise again, but this time you’ve got to meet me halfway.”
Halfway? How could she move even halfway, when the deadline for the Fenderson project had her pinned to the wall? She had nothing to negotiate with at all. Still, she had to ask. “What do you want?”
Cooper didn’t hesitate. “Leave work at 5:30 every day, the way Dr. Santana told you to. I know you haven’t had time to see her over the past few weeks, but I want you to make time. I want you to deal with this catastrophic thinking thing.” He took a deep breath. “I want us to move out of the city, to a house with a yard. I want your weekends—both Saturdays
and
Sundays. I want you to dance with me again, I want to go on vacations with you, to travel.” He smiled crookedly. “Oh, yeah, and I want you to learn to speak Spanish.”
Josie wasn’t looking at him. She was studying the floor tiles as if she’d never seen them before. Cooper could tell by the sheen in her eyes and by the tightness in her shoulders that he’d already lost.
She wasn’t going to stop working those crazy hours—at least not until the Fenderson project was completed.
Still, he couldn’t give up.
“I know you don’t want to live here, in Connecticut,” Cooper said softly. “I know you think the commute is too much. That’s fine. We can find a house in Westchester—something close to the city, but far enough away to have a piece of land attached to it. We can sell the apartment and this house—”
Josie looked up sharply. “But this is your house. You designed it, you built it,” she objected. “You love this house.”