by Linda Kage
Once he returned to the living room, he stood in the center of the floor and rubbed at the center of his forehead, wishing he were somewhere else, wishing this wasn’t happening.
Neither wishes were granted, so he settled himself once again on the loveseat. It was warm, so he kicked off his shoes and removed the throw blanket Amanda had draped over the back rest. He lay down with his feet hanging off the end and stared across the dark room, wishing he could do something a little more productive to help Amanda, like beat her lying, cheating husband to a pulp. But watching her kids was the most helpful he could be, so he stayed put, drifting in and out of sleep, waking to check the clock on the wall every few hours or wander through the house, making sure Natalie, Lucy and Felix were okay.
He was still conscious when Amanda returned home alone at five in the morning. When he heard the garage door open, he sat up, yawning. His muscles were sore and cramped. Ignoring his shoes, he padded through the house to meet Amanda in the kitchen.
Her face was dry but her eyes were red and swollen. There was no sound of Jeff’s Charger pulling into the drive.
Drew breathed out a curse, imaging the worst. Amanda burst into tears, and he ran his hands through his hair, remaining frozen, telling himself not to ask. If she needed to talk about it, he’d be here, but he wasn’t going to force her to open up if she didn’t want to. She was upset enough as it was.
"We’re getting a divorce," she sobbed.
As the truth repeated itself through his head, a burning heat washed over him and his face flamed with emotion. He glanced away from his sister, blinking rapidly. Though it had been twenty-one years since his mother had walked out and his dad had told them she wasn’t coming back, he still remembered the moment clearly. And it hadn’t hurt like this. But he hadn’t been so aware back then. Plus he’d known Jeff longer than he’d known his mother and formed a stronger bond.
Refusing to lose it in front of his sister who needed him to stay strong, he sniffed his misery back in and quietly asked, "Where is he now?"
She shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe he went back to the hotel he’s been staying in while he was pretending to be in Denver. Maybe he’s at her house. Who cares?"
"Do you," he gulped in a breath. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Oh, Drew," she wailed stumbling across the kitchen in his direction. "It was so awful."
Grateful he could finally do something, he pulled her into a hug and held her close, glad she couldn’t see his face now, because he definitely had tears in his eyes.
"He made it out to be my fault. I never talked to him about his job, never gave him the physical relationship he needed. I wasn’t good enough of a wife." She lifted her face, looking devastated. "Do you think I was a bad wife?"
He shook his head violently. He would’ve denied it even if he had thought so, but he could remember so many times she’d given up things for Jeff. She’d raised Jeff’s children with almost no help from him. She’d stayed home and cooked and cleaned when she could’ve gone out. She’d been the perfect housewife, even though she’d worked forty hours a week at the bank. She’d worked so hard.
"Listen to me," he growled, clutching her face in his hands. "He was just caught at his mistress’s house. He’s going to say anything right now to keep the blame off him. He’s going to make any kind of excuse he can. No one likes to admit they’re one hundred percent to blame."
"But I never—"
"If he was that miserable, he could’ve told you about it a long time ago instead of finding someone else. Mandy, he was wrong."
A new string of tears started. Worried he’d only made the matter worse, he sat her at a chair at the table and hurried to the stove to make her a kettle of hot tea. Still remembering she liked to brew tea when she was upset, he dipped a teabag into a mug of hot water once it was ready, spooned in a teaspoon of sugar and placed it in front of her.
She reached out immediately and wrapped her hands around the cup. He opened his mouth to warn her it was hot and to wait a minute before she took a drink. But then he realized she just wanted to hold the mug, like she was cold and needed some warmth and comfort.
"How’re the kids?" she asked.
"They slept the entire night and are still in bed."
She nodded. "Good."
He caught sight of a box of Kleenex and snatched it up, bringing it to the table as he sat across from her. He passed her a single sheet and she wordlessly used it to dab at her wet cheeks.
"Thank goodness they still think he’s in Denver. I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s time they think he should come home."
Felix and Lucy were more like he had been, Drew realized. They wouldn’t be so concerned about their father’s absence. Where he’d been a sister’s boy, they were momma’s babies and wouldn’t miss Jeff. Natalie, on the other hand, would hurt.
"We’ll have to … to … work out a custody arrangement," Mandy admitted, fresh tears welling.
Drew pulled another tissue from the box and handed it over. She took it gratefully and blew her nose.
"What all happened tonight?" he finally asked.
"We fought mostly," she admitted. "I blamed him, and he blamed me. And then he said, ‘I can’t live like this anymore.’ And I was like, ‘live like what?’ I had no idea he’d been so miserable, Drew. If he was that dissatisfied why didn’t he come to me? Why didn’t he tell me? I just don’t understand."
Not sure how to respond, Drew sat there, ready with another Kleenex.
"All I can remember is back when we were dating and he took me out to the park in the middle of the night and sang the Boston song, Amanda, to me. It was so sweet. I think I fell in love with him right then." Her eyes were so tear-stained they seemed to float in their sockets. "What went wrong?"
He shook his head, unable to answer. "I don’t know, Sis. I don’t know."
•
It was almost noon by the time Drew made it home. He’d already called his one appointment scheduled for the day and cancelled. Every muscle in his body screamed from exhaustion. He ignored them, tramping through his house to the back kitchen.
He opened the fridge and yanked out a soda, crushing the aluminum can in his fist when he was done drinking.
He’d spent a majority of the morning with the kids in order to give Amanda some time alone. Even his brain was worn out. He plopped onto his kitchen stool located at the end of the cabinets and just sat there.
The world hadn’t come to an end, but it was definitely pausing. One era had ended, and the next had yet to start. Drew rested his elbows on the counter, thinking what he should do next. As he contemplated, there came a knock at his door.
Thinking Amanda still needed him to watch her children, he slid off the stool and hurried toward the front room.
But it wasn’t Amanda and her three children.
It was Jeff.
Drew pulled up short, his insides shutting down. Pain and anger roared through him.
His brother-in-law lifted his face. "Can I come in?"
He’d known this man since he was fourteen. Jeff wasn’t just that guy married to his sister. Jeff was a brother.
"Were you ever faithful to her?" he asked, gritting his teeth when his voice broke.
Jeffrey stiffened. "I’m not going to talk about my relationship with Amanda to you."
And thank God for that. Drew had never understood their marriage. But he hadn’t really wanted to either. They were his family. As long as they stayed that way, he didn’t care what kind of odd bond they shared.
"Then what’re you doing here?"
Jeff seemed to wilt before him. "It’s the kids," he said, glancing down at his hands. "I’m worried about them."
Drew shrugged. He’d seen the man’s kids minutes ago. They looked fine to him. Even Natalie hadn’t suspected anything. Probably because they were used to Daddy being gone on trips and didn’t yet realize he wasn’t coming back this time.
"What about them?" he asked.
&
nbsp; "Drew. Let me in." Jeff shuffled uncomfortably. "You wouldn’t even have this place if I hadn’t let Amanda give it to you."
Drew froze. That was true, and it was a low blow.
"I don’t owe you anything," he hissed. "If you had a problem with me living here, you should’ve said something a long time ago. You can have it back if it’s that important to you."
Jeff sighed, letting Drew know he’d been bluffing. "I don’t want your stupid house," he mumbled. "I just want to talk to you."
"About the kids?"
"Yes!"
"You don’t want to stay here for a while?"
Jeff’s head came up and he stared at Drew in surprise. "They shouldn’t have to go through this," he finally muttered.
Drew snorted incredulously. "If you were so concerned about how it would affect them then maybe you shouldn’t have messed up your marriage."
Glancing away guiltily, Jeff mumbled, "I know your parents’ divorce bothered her. She always talked about how that wasn’t going to happen to her children."
Drew shuddered. "So why are you making it happen to them?"
"You don’t understand what it’s like," Jeff groaned. He spun away and paced the length of the porch. When he returned, he only looked more agitated. "When I was in school, I was it, you know. The most-popular, best-looking, biggest athlete."
Folding his arms to show how unimpressed he was, Drew leaned against the door frame. "So?"
"So? Now, I’m nothing. Some middle-class worker in some middle-class world, living some middle-class life. When I met Piper …"
Shuddering, Drew narrowed his eyes, hating the animated way Jeff said her name. He waited for Jeff to continue but was glad when he didn’t.
"You want to know something," he responded. "I know one woman and three small children who would think you’re amazing if you just spent some time with them once in while. You might not be anything to the world, but you were the world to them. Were," he repeated cruelly. "Not anymore."
Jeff’s jaw dropped as if he’d never realized that fact before. He blinked repeatedly. Then he murmured, "They always adored Amanda more than they did me."
"Maybe because Amanda is a parent to them," Drew suggested. "You’re just that guy that lives in their house and yells at them when they get in his way. You could be so much more if you’d just stop sleeping with every hairdresser that smiles at you and spend that time with your family."
Clearly taken aback, Jeff asked, "How did you know she works as a—"
"I know a lot more than you think. Unlike you, I pay attention when Mandy talks to me." His brother-in-law remained quiet. "She put all her energy into those kids because she’s been forced to practically raise them by herself. If you would’ve helped her out and taken on half the duties, she would’ve had more time for you."
"Whoa," Jeff gasped. "You really do know a lot."
Nodding in agreement, Drew said, "Your children will be just fine without you. They always have been."
Turning away, Jeff clutched his head and let out an anguished moan. "I messed up," he confessed.
Drew snorted. "Gee, you think?"
"What do I do? How do I fix this?"
Sounding like a broken record, because he’d already repeated these exact same words to Mandy, he said, "I don’t know." He didn’t mention how he didn’t think Jeff could fix anything, but he definitely thought it.
"Thank you, Drew," his brother-in-law murmured. "You made me realize a few things I hadn’t understood before."
Wanting to be nasty and tell him it was about time he pulled his head out of the sand, Drew remained quiet.
"I’ll see you later," Jeff said. He turned and started for his charger.
Wondering if he really would see Jeff ever again, Drew watched him go.
Chapter Fifteen
Mia turned into Harper Studio’s driveway, wondering for the thousandth time if coming here was a huge mistake. She had to be the last person Drew wanted to talk to. But she couldn’t stay away.
He’d been so upset when he’d come for his sister’s husband. She worried how he was taking everything.
She’d stayed away for almost a week, but the worry ate at her, so she waited a few hours longer, until she was sure he had to be off work for the evening and she started over, anxiety spiking from head to toe.
The front door was open, just like the first time she had visited, letting a draft float through his screen. She pushed the doorbell and took a cautious step back.
He must’ve been cooking because he appeared with a greasy spatula in hand.
"Hi," she said, and took another step back, holding her breath.
His step faltered. "Mia?"
The wavering smile she sent wasn’t so encouraging, but she tried anyway. "May I come in?"
His mouth opened, but his didn’t immediately speak, the internal debate clear in his eyes.
Before he could answer, a beeping came from the back of his house and he jumped. So did she.
"Hold on," he told her, turning on his heel and hurrying toward the kitchen timer.
As soon as he disappeared, she opened the door and stepped into the front room. Figuring that was as bold as she could get, she wandered along the walls, noticing he’d hung new pictures. The 20 x 24 framed portrait of Amanda cradling a sleeping boy on her shoulder caught her attention. This must be his nephew. She lifted her finger to touch the boy’s cheek through the glass.
He was precious. As hard as he slept against his mother, she could tell he was a wild one, full of life and always raring to go. Just like Lexie had been. She’d be a couple of years younger than him if she was alive.
Footsteps approaching behind her told Mia that Drew had taken care of whatever had needed his attention in the kitchen. She turned as he rounded the corner and pulled to a startled stop.
"Oh," he said when he realized she’d come in.
Mia waited a heartbeat for him to explode and kick her out. When he didn’t, she took a breath to bolster her courage. "How’s your sister?"
He shot her a bitter look. "She’s getting a divorce," he looked evilly pleased to report. "They’ve already set up custody, and this is her kids’ first weekend with their father."
"Oh." She stared down at her clasped hand. Did divorces move so fast?
"How’s your roommate," he asked with a sneer.
Ignoring his tone, she said, "She’s upset because … your brother-in-law dumped her."
He made a humming sound in his throat. "I’d say I’m sorry to hear that. But …"
"No," she assured him. "There’s no reason for you to lie."
"So, why are you here," he asked softly. "Wanted to make sure Amanda and Jeff were truly over before you encouraged your friend to run after him?"
She braced herself against his ugly tone. "No," she answered. "I came to see how you were doing."
He shifted uncomfortably, glancing away from her. "I’m not the one getting a divorce," he mumbled. "There’s no reason to worry about me."
"But …" She licked her lips and blew out a breath. He looked miserable; she told herself not to give up yet. "You lost a brother," she argued. "I’m sure your sister had been married awhile. Weren’t you even a little close to her husband?"
He glanced at her with a sharp, accusing frown. But a second later, his shoulder slumped and he looked away again.
"Yeah," he finally admitted. "It feels like I lost a brother. I don’t have a huge family as it is, and with him out of it now, a big percent just …" He shook his head. "I know I shouldn’t be that upset. Amanda’s going through so much more than I am. This is her husband, the father of her children. I should be there for her and stay strong, but …"
"It hurts," Mia whispered.
He closed his eyes and hissed out a breath. "Why am I telling you this?" His voice was sharp as he continued.
"Because we connect."
He snorted, opening his gaze to send her a frown. "We connect? I don’t think so. I think it’s more like I
tell you everything and you keep secrets. I even had to hear from your roommate you were suffering from some kind of survivor’s guilt. And I don’t even know who died that was so important to you."
Mia froze. "She … she didn’t tell you who?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want to know?" As soon as the question left her lips, she regretted it. She’d never really told the entire story to anyone before. Piper had explained her situation to people down here. And at home, everyone just knew.
But when Drew whispered, "Yes, I want to know," she shivered, apprehensive.
Swallowing like she was trying to gag down a chicken bone, Mia said, "Can we sit down somewhere for this story?"
"Is it that bad?"
Closing her eyes, she nodded. "Yes." Her voice was hoarse.
He drew near, and she almost sobbed when his fingers lightly touched her arm. "You don’t have to tell me," he assured.
She opened her eyes. "Yes, I think I do."
Nodding, he took her hand. After closing the main door and locking it, he led her through his studio and into a back sitting room with a couch, two chairs, and a flat-screen television. She could immediately tell this was his living space by the relaxed aura. Rugs and more informal pictures decorated the walls, while a pair of shoes lay forgotten on a rug by the couch.
She glanced down and noticed his feet were bare. For some reason, that made her more nervous. This was going to be too intimate, too cozy. She was going to flip out on him and—
"Okay," he said, motioning toward all the cushions she could sit on.
After choosing the couch, she watched him settle into a chair across from her. It was impossible to tell if he just couldn’t stand sitting any closer than that or if he wanted to give her space, but she appreciated the space … and the time as he remained quiet, letting her gather her thoughts.
She blew out a breath. "I’m going to tell you a story," she started. "It’s pretty long and you’ll probably wonder why I’m telling it, but … it all comes back to now. It explains my friendship with Piper, why I am the way I am, and why I’m even bothering to come here today, hoping to get your forgiveness."
