Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3)

by Virginia Gray

  ♥

  It was the very first alone time I’d had in weeks, and I relished it—well, for a half-hour or so. Pete was meeting with a new client, and Audrey was currently sleeping. After a soothing cup of hot tea, I found myself pacing like a caged animal. I needed something to do, a memo to write, someone to yell at. I needed to work.

  Pete got to escape to his office, create, interact with other people—even if it was primarily Laney. And frankly, I resented that. I was trapped: wrapped in the suffocating cocoon of motherhood.

  Through the window, I spied the pod of dolphins that regularly cruised down the long strip of water separating our barrier island from the mainland. I thought about the boundless miles they traveled each day, of the infinite sea they were free to roam, and sighed.

  Evening had fully staked its claim when Pete sauntered into the living room, all smiles. “Santa brought you a present.”

  I glanced at the beautiful tree in the living room. Unable to even leave the house, much less shop, there was little for Pete underneath it, and for that, I felt terrible. He had forgone the outside lighting for fear the bazillion megawatts would keep the baby awake, and I had zero remorse on that front.

  “Really? What?”

  “Freedom.”

  Taking my hand, he led me down the stairs to the front door and flung it open. “Ta-da!”

  I gazed at the object and then at him. “We already have five strollers.”

  “Not like this one. It’s all terrain!” He waved his hand at the impressive mountain bike tires, their shiny chrome spokes reflecting the porch light. “The handbrake is here, and this’ll hold your water bottle when you’re ready to run.” He rattled off its other attributes, and then said, “Best of all—”

  “It has an engine?” I interrupted, grinning. I hadn’t been cleared to drive, but hell, at this point, I’d take a flippin’ scooter.

  “Ya want one?”

  I kissed his cheek. “Yes.”

  He rolled his eyes. “According to the discharge paperwork, it’s time for you to start walkin’. C’mon, we’ll try it out together—just to the end of the driveway.”

  ♥

  Before this whole pregnancy debacle, I’d enjoyed running along the paved path beside the highway. Since drawn and quartered, I could only walk it slowly, but even that was sheer joy. I breathed in the cool, clean air, seasoned lightly with salt, as Audrey and I wandered the swank development called Cedar Village. It was one of the few residential neighborhoods on the island. Peopled primarily with wealthy retirees, the wide streets were flanked by perfectly manicured lawns. Pete had designed several of the monster soundfront homes. I smiled with pride as I passed them, wondering if their interiors rivaled our own.

  Past the duck pond, lighted tennis courts, and the large swimming pool, a small marina harbored numerous watercraft, rocking peacefully. The breeze blowing off the sound was chilly, and I tucked the blanket tighter around my girl. I seated myself on the wooden bench near the water’s edge; I’d come to think.

  Wondering what my future held, I stared out at the gilded wavelets lit by winter’s sun. The clock’s hands were moving ever closer to the time when I’d have to make a choice. Could I do this—what Pete secretly wanted? Become a stay-at-home mom? Would I manage to keep my sanity in the process? I knew the answer—felt it as surely as the omnipresent breeze. Work galvanized me. Moreover, it defined me in a way I understood, in a way that filled me with satisfaction.

  “Aud, I’ve got some big decisions to make and most likely a war to wage.” She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with a wisdom lost on adults. “You understand what’s at stake, right?”

  She blinked, owl-like.

  “You won’t resent me when you’re older?”

  With the workings of a smile, she made a gurgling noise I took as her blessing. I kissed her tiny forehead and ran my finger down a cheek smoother than the finest nectarine. With a great sense of peace and certainty, I exhaled.

  “You’re about to get really pissed off at me. It’s time to wean you.”

  45

  New Year’s Revolution

  “You gave birth not four weeks ago, you’ve barely been out of the hospital three, and you think you’re ready to go back to work? Look at you! You’re not even supposed to be drivin’ yet and ya want to fly up to Philadelphia for a meeting? Seriously?!” he sputtered.

  We’d already fought about my returning to work. Then it was when. He thought four months was realistic. Clearly, I was of another opinion, since that was just plain stupid. “I need to know what my future holds. The uncertainty is killing me.”

  “Can’t they just tell ya over the phone? Do you actually need to go up there?”

  “I do. I’ll fly up and back the same day.” I switched Audrey to my other nipple and rubbed her little back. “I’m fine. The baby’s fine. The only one who’s not fine here is you!”

  He shook his head and stormed out the front door. After four circuits around the house—yes, I counted—he stormed back in. “If you’ve got to do this. If it can’t wait another damn couple of weeks, then I’ll take you to the airport. But know now, I think what you’re doin’ is crazy.”

  ♥

  I pumped as much milk as I could squeeze out of myself and added it to the small stockpile in the refrigerator. As I wasn’t staying overnight, I simply brought a large purse, its complete contents: one breast pump, one empty bottle, one wallet, and one lipstick.

  Pete and I talked animatedly during the whole trip Raleigh. It was the first time we’d been alone since Audrey’s birth, and there was an unbridled freedom that came along with it. Of course, part of the conversation was Audrey-related—a whole new topic in our repertoire, but much of it resembled the unencumbered days when it was just the two of us against the world.

  “In a couple of months, when Audrey’s ready, we’ll take that overnight in the mountains. I can’t wait to be away for a night, just the two of us,” Pete said.

  I loved my child—don’t get me wrong, but during our first ten months of married life, Pete and I hadn’t enjoyed even one week without worry or discomfort of some type. A break sounded spectacular. Honestly, Philly sounded spectacular, too, and I almost wished I was spending the night there. The concept of sleeping eight hours without my brain on high alert, missing just one midnight-feeding… I longed for that simple peace.

  “Our marriage has been kind of a bust so far, hasn’t it?”

  He snatched up my hand and kissed it fervently. “Our marriage has been amazing. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  Walking me to the roped off area, he took my face in his hands. “Be safe and don’t overdo it. Oh, and make sure you eat. I know you.” He gave me a stern look before kissing me tenderly.

  After clearing security, I turned back and smiled.

  He winked and then mouthed, I love you.

  ♥

  As passengers impatiently shifted from one foot to another, waiting for the cabin doors to open, I remained seated, afraid to leave the airplane’s protective hull. My meetings had not gone well at all, and I was saddled with information certain to start World War Three.

  Pete’s perfect form was sitting in one of the bizarrely placed rocking chairs. The interior designers must have thought these lent the reception area a warm and homey touch. I thought they said, “Welcome to Hillbilly Central.”

  When our eyes met, he hopped up, his face glowing. He pulled me into his arms and kissed my hair, forehead, and finally lips. “I didn’t know I could miss someone so badly in the course of ten hours.”

  It had seemed a long time.

  Once settled into The Beast, I unbuttoned my suit jacket, shaking my head at the bold stains on my silk blouse. Ten minutes into the return flight, my udder had begun leaking. For two hours I’d felt sticky and sodden and now smelled vaguely of cottage cheese.

  I noticed several shopping bags in the back seat. “What did you buy?”

  “A sweater, some clothes for Audrey,
and a surprise for you. I never knew how much fun after Christmas shoppin’ could be.” He grinned a bit too widely.

  “A surprise?”

  “Just a little something.” He shrugged and then kissed my knuckles. “How was Philly?”

  Amazing, fantastic, exhilarating. “Oh, you know, cold, dirty, loud…the usual.”

  As we pressed eastward, the emotional atmosphere slowly changed. The warmth of homecoming cooled, and our jovial conversation dwindled to an oppressive silence. Though I’d offered nothing, I was somewhat shocked Pete hadn’t asked the million dollar question—not even hinted at it. I knew he would give me just enough rope to hang myself, but in the meantime, I was smothering under the heavy blanket of foreboding.

  We stopped in Smithfield for a quick dinner of Barbecue. While waiting for our food, he reached into his jacket and slid a small box across the plaid tablecloth.

  “What’s this?”

  With a calculating smile, he simply nodded for me to open it.

  The heart-shaped gold locket dangled from a sturdy chain. I opened it to find a tiny picture of Pete holding Audrey, their faces pressed against one another. I’d taken the shot with his phone while still in the hospital.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  As he fastened the clasp, he whispered, “You hold our hearts, Susan. You take us with you wherever you go. Don’t forget that.” He’d not spent the day shopping so much as fashioning a weapon with which to stab me in my less than golden heart.

  It hit the mark perfectly, too, because the guilt I felt magnified tenfold, tears threatening to spill. Blessedly, our number was called, and Pete left for the counter. I quickly dabbed my eyes and inhaled deeply. We spoke little the rest of the way home.

  “Hey, Miss Susan,” Taylor said, carrying Audrey in her arms. At seventeen and a half, with “the boyfriend”—a far less colorful term than Kirk’s—currently out of the picture, Taylor was very available and thrilled to have a job. Though she’d been sitting the entire day, she looked utterly fresh. “How was your trip?”

  “Just fine, thanks.” Pete watched me, his eyes mildly accusing as I took Audrey in my arms, the sinking feeling pulling me under the surf like an anchor. “Did she behave?” I asked, planting kisses on my child’s forehead. Audrey yawned impressively and closed her eyes.

  “Didn’t cry one bit. She’s just the most precious baby in the whole world.”

  In the silence of our journey, I’d decided not to have this conversation in the house. I didn’t want angry words and hurt feelings staining the walls of our sanctuary. Instead, we would exchange them irrationally where the mighty Atlantic Ocean could easily dispel them with her moist and salty breath. I placed Audrey back in Taylor’s arms rather than Pete’s. “Would you mind sitting for one more hour? I’ll pay you double.”

  “Miss Susan, you don’t have to pay me anything. I love Audrey.” She whisked her back upstairs, singing softly.

  I looked deeply into Pete’s eyes. “We need to talk.”

  ♥

  Though I’d so often disparaged the Eastern Carolina residents’ concept of cold, let me assure you that walking the beach in January was a bitter affair, the damp and weighty chill seeping to my bone’s very marrow. The icy wind jerked our clothing in disjointed spurts as we plodded along in silence. I knew lack of warmth would not be a problem for long, however, since Pete was about to go thermonuclear. As if reading my thoughts, he suddenly stopped.

  “Okay, out with it.”

  “They want me back. Now.”

  Pete closed his eyes and wiped his hand down his face. Though his stubborn mind refused to admit it, surely he knew this was inevitable. He looked to the sky for divine intervention. I’d already scoured it myself. Nada.

  “Where?”

  Exhaling deeply, I looked towards the sea. “Minnesota.”

  I counted all the way to ten, which was, quite frankly, rather amazing, before his head exploded right off his shoulders. “Minnesota? Are you kidding me?!” Pete waved his arms in spasmodic fashion and made a number of sputtering and unintelligible sounds. “You’re a new mother! What are they thinking?” Sensing my resolve, he stopped cold. “Oh Lord, tell me you’re not seriously considerin’ this.” His hands found his hips in the war stance to which I was so very accustomed. To humor myself while I found the right words, I imagined him wearing a feathered headdress with red stripes painting his face. I almost laughed.

  “Bob said this was my only option.” Pete spat in disgust. “He won’t be my boss when I take over, which is a tough pill to swallow, but Frank Calvin is a decent man. It’ll be okay.”

  His look was the very definition of audacity. “I don’t care who your boss is—” He froze mid-sentence and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “When you take over? You’ve already accepted it, haven’t you?” I nodded slowly. “Who’s gonna take care of Audrey? I’m in this a thousand percent, but—”

  Suddenly, he turned and stalked to the water’s edge. I crossed my arms and waited as he drew strength, wisdom, energy, who the hell knows what from his surrogate mother. When I decided he wasn’t returning, I joined him.

  “How do you see this playing out?” he asked, staring into the gray abyss. Wearing white caps as far as the eye could see, it appeared Mother Atlantic was as disgruntled as he.

  I sighed helplessly. “I start next week.”

  His head whipped towards me, and he literally choked, his face turning scarlet from lack of oxygen. I patted his back as he coughed and explained, “I’m commuting. I’ll start with an abbreviated workweek.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked back and forth as Pete set to the task of turning sand into molten glass with his glare. Finally, he met my eyes. “Have you considered a demotion?”

  “A what?”

  “For a while. Maybe back to a region like when we first met. Maybe you could run this part of the state again.”

  “And work for Kirsten?!” I sputtered. “One, no way in hell, and two, do you understand how much money we’d lose?”

  “Susan, money’s not the issue here. Audrey is. I make plenty—”

  “You do well, Pete. I won’t argue that, but I make more than you by half, and your income is project-based. If the housing market tanks, so does your livelihood—our livelihood. We live very comfortably at the moment, but we have a flipping car payment of epic proportions thanks to you. And the house—”

  “We’ll sell it.”

  “What?”

  “We’ll sell it all if we have to. Eventually, we’ll need to move, anyway. I love it here, but New Bern has the best school system in the area.”

  “School’s six years away!”

  “Five,” he said. “Five short years, most of it spent with you travelin’ out of state.”

  “Do you think I want this? Do you? I have no choice. It’s take this job or quit.”

  He made a scoffing sound then cocked his head, loaded his cannons, and opened fire. “So, Miss Minnesota, are you plannin’ on bein’ in town when she says her first word? What about when she learns to crawl? To stand? What about her first steps? Will you be with her or your employees?”

  “You bastard! How dare you play the I suck at motherhood card so soon. How dare you!” Tears scorched my cheeks, thawing the icy air that brushed them. “If I left, they’d never hire me back, but you could pack up your office and be gone tomorrow. Hell, you could be a stay-at-home dad. It’s all the rage now. What about that, you damned chauvinist?”

  He dropped his shoulders. “Do you think I haven’t thought of it?” My mouth popped open in shock. “I’d be willing to, but what you have to understand is that while I can meet her basic needs, a baby needs her mother—a little girl, even more so. I of all people know how important havin’ a mamma around is. A daddy can provide, but a mamma is the soul of the family.” His eyes softened. “You’re the soul.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I truly couldn’t. He was either being painfully honest or manipulating my
emotions like a puppet master. Remembering the locket and the look in his eye, I was betting on the latter. Still, the mere idea of a Southern man agreeing to stay home spoke volumes about his commitment.

  I thought about Pete’s childhood. How he was raised by a single mother—one who’d put him before all else. And even though she’d had to work after her husband died, she’d stayed close by, guarding him like a lioness. Then I thought about my upbringing. Even with a father who’d doted on me in his own skewed way, my mother had been the steadfast one; the one who sacrificed.

  Through my fury, I looked at Pete. So loving, so able-bodied, so ready to do anything to help, to support, to hold our family together and love our child. And he was right, damn him. There would be a time when Audrey would need a woman’s influence, someone to teach her how to be strong, to nurture her determination and school her in wielding her femininity. Would I be able to do that from a thousand miles away? Would I be useful as a weekend mother? Would that suffice?

  My friend and former boss, Grace Newman, was making it just fine with her, albeit, shorter commute. Her child was in daycare. That’s what career women did. They gave birth, put their kids in daycare, and went back to work. Hell, if it made Pete feel better, I could hire a full-time nanny—an ugly one to whom he would never be attracted—or even one of his relatives. That would make life easier for us both. Or, I could take Audrey with me to Minnesota and place her in a daycare near my office, so I would be nearby. Would that resolve the issue? Would that be enough for him?

  But then I thought about myself. If I quit—surely what he really wanted—who would I become? I thought about my worth in this world; what defined me as a person. “Mother” was not the first descriptor that popped into my head, or wife. It was businesswoman. I’d be trading the powerful position I’d worked a lifetime to achieve for a powerless one filled with strollers, bottles, and leaky diapers. And to bank on his salary for our livelihood? Forced to depend on him rather than myself? He loved me, and I him now, but would I come to hate him for it in time? I knew the answer.