Reunion in October (The Calendar Girls Book 2) (20 page)

He pulled me against him, and I almost wished I’d ditched the robe in favor of the silky nightgown I wore underneath. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. “There are no sides, babe. Just us. You and me.”

Why on earth had I ever considered him immature?

His fingertip traced my cheek, the outline of my lips, and I shuddered as his mouth claimed mine. The kiss left me breathless, wavering on shaky legs.

“I gotta dash. Dream of me when you go to sleep, okay?”

I smiled. “Deal.”

While I gripped the counter edge to steady my teetering equilibrium, he padded into my den to dress. After several minutes of inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, I poured coffee into the thermal mug for him and filled the tea kettle for me. Minutes later, he returned to the kitchen, his chest now clothed in last night’s t-shirt, shoes back in place on his feet.

“Thanks again for letting me stay the night, Frannie. Love ya.” With one last kiss, he took his coffee and left my house.

Love ya
. My heart flipped inside my chest. Did he mean it? Or was that his version of “Have a nice day”? I forced myself to forget about the comment. Compartmentalize, which is probably what he did seconds after saying it.
Love ya
.

I made my tea, brought it upstairs, and sipped while I dressed in sweats and sneakers. By ten a.m., I’d had a yogurt and whole wheat toast for breakfast and now stood outside, surrounded by a pile of amber and scarlet leaves I’d amassed into a pile. I don’t know why, but a sudden playful urge overwhelmed me, and I dropped the rake I’d been using and tossed myself into the middle of the fallen foliage. For decades, I’d handled all the yard work here and at my mom’s. Yet, unlike my siblings who’d often leaped into the piles I’d amassed, I’d never found any enjoyment in the task. Until now. Giggling like a loon, I tossed armfuls of the leaves into the air and watched them scatter back to earth in haphazard designs. Sure, I’d just destroyed all the work I’d done this morning, but I didn’t regret this moment of sheer joy. In fact, I rolled over onto my stomach and tossed leaves up to float down upon my back.

“So this is what happens when you spend time with a child,” a voice sneered from behind me. “You revert to childish behavior yourself.”

I didn’t bother to turn around. “Get off my property, Michael, or I’ll call the police.”

“Do you have any idea how foolish you appear to everyone in town?” He crouched beside me, his bent knee inches from my face. “What on earth can you possibly see in that boy? I know what he sees in you. You’re a notch on his belt.”

I’d like to say his snide commentary didn’t affect me at all, but I won’t lie. For a split second, I hesitated, my hand clutching a fistful of dry leaves.

He took full advantage of my uncertainty. “Look at you. Rolling around on the ground like a dog in heat. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Thank God, Josh’s voice popped into my head.
You have a great smile, but it’s like seeing Bigfoot. No one believes me when I try to tell them. You almost never smile
. That was the old Francesca. The new Frannie not only smiled, she laughed.

Rolling over, I gathered an armful of leaves and sat up. “I’m making a conscious effort to add more fun to my life. I think I’ll begin by saying goodbye to you. Goodbye, Michael.”

He stood, glaring down at me, his eyes glittering like frigid ice chips. “You’re making a mistake, Francesca.”

“No.” Undaunted, I rose so he and I were, once again, on a level playing field. “I’m correcting the mistake I almost made five years ago. Now, go.”

Anger heated the space between us, but he eventually turned to walk away. Once his back was to me, I tossed the leaves high into the air. As they wafted down around me, I cheered. “Wooooo-hoooo!”

****

Emily

Roy looked from me to Margie, then back again. “Who the hell are you?”

“Roy!” Shock jolted me upright. I didn’t know what had surprised me more: Margie’s announcement or my husband’s rudeness.

Margie only cackled at him. “I’m your wife’s friend—someone she can count on—a position you should be holding in her life.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for the unsolicited advice.” He shot to his feet and stalked toward her.  “Now mind your own business.” To punctuate his demand, he yanked at the curtain until it reconverted into a cloth barrier between us and my roommate.

Icy fury crackled around Roy and me, nose-diving the room’s temperature. “Get out, Roy. Out of my room.” I picked up my call button. “Don’t make me buzz the nurse.”

He must have sensed he’d gone too far because he stared hard at the plastic object grasped tightly in my hand for several long seconds. At last, his posture sagged, and he leaned against the sink. “I don’t get it, Em. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, the first real honest answer I’d given him in ages. “We lost that spark. I don’t know how or when, but whatever good we had between us has been missing for a while. Lately, every conversation disintegrates, and every moment we’re together becomes a battle. I’m tired of arguing, tired of the stress, tired of the resentment.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to deny it. He simply nodded, his face a mask of misery. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “But, moving out? Are you sure?”

“At least temporarily, yes. I need time and space. I’m not happy; you’re not happy; the kids aren’t happy. I don’t know if the heart attack changed how I see us, but it definitely changed
me
. When I’m around you, I become tense and defensive. And I hate that. I know this comes as a surprise to you, and I’m sorry. But I’m just not willing to let my life continue the way it’s been going. Especially since I don’t know when another heart attack might come along and
zap
!” I clutched my chest. “Lights out for me. Permanently.”

“Maybe you should talk to Dr. Calderon first. She might not think it’s such a good idea for you to be on your own so soon after this…
zap
.” He turned his gaze to the window.

“I’ll check with her,” I said, “but unless she tells me moving out is going to put me back in here, I’m not coming home.”

He swerved his focus back to me, eyes glinting. “You’re not taking the kids.”

It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t argue. “No.” The thought hurt and hollowed me, but I knew better than to debate where the kids would be better off. Not only would moving out uproot them from all they loved, but, I still didn’t know where I’d end up—despite Margie’s impetuous offer. How could I drag my kids into my uncertainty?

“Jeez, Em, what kind of mother doesn’t want her kids?”

I sucked in a breath. By announcing my intention to separate, I’d hurt him. And he’d just retaliated. With stunning brutality. Exhaling, I fisted my hands beneath the sheet and struggled for composure. Yelling at each other wouldn’t help either of us come to terms here. “I want them, but I can’t take them right now. Whether I’m home or not, I don’t have the strength or health to take care of them.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to tell them about the fact that you’ve abandoned them? That you’d rather live with some old woman than with your family?”

He didn’t mean what he said. Those were his mother’s words, not his. They still stung, though. “Tell them the truth,” I retorted. “That I can’t get better at home.”

“That’s not the truth.”

“Yeah, Roy,” I said, my voice whisper-soft and filled with regret. “It is.”

“So, great. Because things are tough between us, you’re going to run away. That’s a terrific lesson to teach our teenagers. I can’t believe how selfish you’re being. Have you even considered what I’m supposed to do without you to help with the kids?”

“Yes. The same thing you’d have to do if I’d run off with Ambrose Chase. Improvise. Figure it out.”

“Are you leaving us for Ambrose Chase?”

“Of course not. I’m leaving for
me
.”

In advising me to lighten my load, Dr. Stewart probably hadn’t intended that I abandon Roy and the kids to sink or swim without me. But now that I’d decided to leave, I figured I might as well get a few other issues off my chest. “Ask your mother to help you out. She’s always chock-full of unwanted parenting advice.”

Tunneling his fingers through his hair, he sighed. “She just wants to help, you know.”

“She wants to help
you
. Your mother has absolutely no use for me. Never has, never will.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is. Don’t believe me? Go home. Tell her that we’re separating. She won’t do cartwheels or handstands, but she will list a thousand reasons why this will be the best thing that ever happened to you. Later, when you and the kids aren’t around, or maybe even after you seem more comfortable with the situation, she’ll do the cartwheels and handstands. Hell, if our separation should eventually lead to divorce, she’ll host a ticker-tape parade down Main Street.”

Roy’s complexion bleached. “Divorce? Who said anything about divorce? For God’s sake, be honest with me. Are you leaving us for good, Em?”

I stared at the inky stamp identifying my sheet as the property of Morrison General Hospital. “I don’t know.”

“Well, hey, thanks for pulling the rug out from under us all,” he retorted as he straightened. “I gotta go. Our kids are waiting, and I have to drop off your prescriptions. See ya around.” He shoved aside the curtain and disappeared.

I could’ve called after him, maybe stopped him from walking away under so much controlled rage, but what for? I had nothing left to say. After he’d stalked out, I curled into a tight ball and willed the tremors racking my body to stop. Deep breaths, I reminded myself. Somehow, though, I knew all the deep breathing in the world wouldn’t fill the cracks splitting my heart.

“You did the right thing, you know.”

At the creaky voice above me, I looked up from my misery cocoon. Margie stood at my bedside. I couldn’t reply. My throat had closed around the tears I wouldn’t allow to leak past my eyes.

She reached a heavily-veined hand out to pat my shoulder. “For the record, I think he does love you. But he needs a reminder of that fact. Same goes for you. So you’ll come home with me and Vinnie. I’m being discharged tomorrow morning, and I know my doctor will be happier if I tell him I’ve got someone younger staying at our apartment to keep an eye on me.”

I choked on a sob. “I don’t think your doctor meant you should have another patient taking care of you.”

“Pffft! You look after me, I’ll look after you. And Vinnie will look after both of us. He lives to take care of ‘helpless’ women. It’s a perfect setup.” I must have looked dubious because she patted my shoulder again and added, “It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. You’ll see. A little time away, and you’ll both figure out where you belong.”

I nodded and curled up tighter, hugging my knees to my chest.

“Marriage is a funny thing.” Margie’s slippered feet whisked the floor as she shuffled back to her bed. “Sometimes, circumstances have become so negative, a couple can’t find anything positive. Vinnie and I went through that a lot. Whenever money was tight, or the kids were in trouble, or he worked too many hours, or all of the above, I’d sit and stew. I’d wonder if I’d screwed up my life—and his. I’d imagine things would be so much better if we’d never married.”

Her words struck a nerve, and I rolled over to face her. She sat up in her bed, her eyes twinkling with some wise, ageless light.

“How long have you two been married?” I asked.

“Forty-six years. And let me tell you...” She chuckled. “...I bet we spent at least half that time fighting over nonsense. All couples fight. All couples hit rough patches. Anybody who tells you different is either a lifelong liar or a lifelong bachelor. You can’t live with a person for that many years and expect nothing but laughter and chocolates. If you don’t have episodes of tears and turnips, you can’t really appreciate the laughter and chocolates, can you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Of course you can’t.” She sighed and settled against her pillow again. “Forty-six years. And if I could, I’d relive every day with him.”

“Even the tears and turnips days?”

“Especially the tears and turnips days. Those are the days I know we loved each other the most because we got through them. Together. Sure I complain about him sometimes. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s
my
pain in the ass.” She rolled over, turning her back to me. “You’ll see. You either love each other, or you don’t. There’s no in-between.”

Chapter 15

Emily

“Tell me about your marriage.”

I don’t know what I expected in Dr. Calderon, but the female drill sergeant seated across from me wasn’t close to any picture in my imagination. Spiky, silver hair cropped above her bare earlobes enhanced the angles of her razor sharp cheekbones and pointy chin. She wore a steel gray suit with a dove gray blouse, and her eyes were so dark they looked black. Her entire look reflected all the emotional depth of a great white shark.

I squirmed in the leather club chair in the family consultation room that Dr. Calderon had commandeered for our first visit. “What do you want to know?”

“You’ve opted to leave your family right now. Let’s start with that, shall we?”

Had she already taken Roy’s side? A wall rose inside me. “You think it’s a mistake?”

The counselor’s posture remained straight and stiff, her expression a blank canvas. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Why don’t you tell me why you want to separate from your husband at this particular juncture?”

Oh, yeah. She was definitely Team Roy. I sat up, ready to tell her my side. “How much time have we got?”

“All the time we need.” She waved her hand, encompassing the private consultation room.

“I didn’t make the decision lightly, you know,” I insisted. “Things haven’t been right between us for a while now.”

“Give me an example, if you can.”

Oh, I could. I just didn’t want to. Telling some stranger intimate secrets about my life with Roy made me uncomfortable. Betrayal tasted bitter on my tongue. “It’s just little things, I guess,” I hemmed. “Nothing crucial.”