Her daughter-in-law’s words still rang in her mind as Jacqueline drove home. She pulled into the garage and entered the dark and silent house. Martha had left a chef’s salad in the refrigerator for her dinner; she sat down at the kitchen table and nibbled at it, but she didn’t have much appetite. The house seemed full of little sounds. Creaks and moans. They only emphasized the emptiness of the place, and she put on some music to distract herself.
Twenty minutes later, she gave up, deciding to have a bath earlier than usual. After her bath, she generally went to bed to read—and to listen for Reese. Some nights she read until the morning hours without hearing him at all. She’d never acknowledged that she waited for him, but tonight the truth was like an intruder standing in the middle of her bedroom.
Despite all her husband’s years of infidelity, the pain was almost overwhelming. At this very moment, he was with another woman and she’d allowed his philandering to continue, accepted it as if it were normal. Jacqueline realized she couldn’t pretend any longer. She couldn’t and she wouldn’t!
Half-undressed, the bathwater running in the tub, she walked into the kitchen, each step filled with righteous indignation. She jerked open a drawer and reached for the country club directory. Tossing it on the kitchen counter, she searched for Allan Anderson’s number. They’d been good friends for years, and he was the best divorce attorney in town. Once he got his hands on this case, her husband would pay dearly for what he’d done to her and to their lives.
All at once, the virtuous anger left her and she closed the directory, but her hand lingered there.
Dear God in heaven, what was she thinking? She didn’t want a divorce, she wanted her husband. She wanted Reese!
Somehow, some way, she’d have to win him back.
Slowly now, lost in her thoughts, she walked into the bathroom again and turned off the water. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she pressed her fingers to her temples as she considered what to do.
The sound of the garage door closing startled her. Jacqueline stood, her heart pounding at a furious pace. It couldn’t possibly be Reese. Not this early. He was rarely home before nine.
“Reese, is that you?” she called out, then silently chastised herself. Who else could it be? A burglar wasn’t likely to announce his arrival.
“I’m home,” her husband called back flatly.
Slipping on her robe, Jacqueline came out of the bathroom to see her husband standing at the kitchen counter, sorting through the mail. He seemed surprised to see her.
Where she found the courage, Jacqueline didn’t know, but she stepped boldly forward.
Reese casually glanced up. “Yes?”
“It’s over. I want that understood here and now. I won’t put up with this any longer.”
He blinked and stared at her. Thankfully he didn’t make a pretense of not knowing what she meant.
“I won’t,” she repeated.
He continued to stare, his expression incredulous.
“First of all,” she went on, “it’s demeaning to me as your wife. I’ve looked the other way for the last time. I won’t do it again. I tried to pretend it doesn’t matter and for a while I managed to convince myself—but it does. It matters very much.”
“What—”
Jacqueline kept talking. If she didn’t finish this now, while she had the courage, she might not have another chance. “I’ve never been the kind of wife to issue ultimatums or make demands, but I’m doing it now. Whoever she is, get rid of her. I don’t care what it costs. I want her out of your life and mine.”
Reese shook his head, apparently speechless.
“I won’t allow our grandchildren to grow up seeing me treated with that kind of disrespect.” Here she was, having what was possibly the most important discussion of her marriage, while standing barefoot in the middle of her kitchen dressed only in a robe.
Frowning, Reese went back to sorting the mail.
Tammie Lee’s story rolled through her mind and Jacqueline dragged in a fortifying breath. Since she’d come this far, she might as well go for broke. “There’s more,” she announced with as much dignity as she could muster.
“More?”
She nodded and stepped closer. “As a matter of fact, there’s a great deal more. I happen to love you, Reese. I don’t know what went wrong between us and…and whatever it was, I share the blame. But I’m lonely, Reese, and I want you back in my bed.” Her voice caught. For one crazy moment, Jacqueline imagined herself as Tammie Lee’s Aunt Frieda. She propped one hand on her hip, jutted out her shoulder and lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “I promise I’ll be all the woman you’ll ever need.”
The look in her husband’s eyes was beyond description as he dropped the mail. “Jacquie? Are you serious?”
She laughed in a way she hoped sounded sexy and sensuous. “Don’t take my word for it. Come and find out for yourself.”
Reese’s mouth sagged, his face so comically eager that she nearly laughed out loud.
“Jacquie?” He reached for her then, and when his mouth covered hers, it was with the same openmouthed passion they’d experienced in their twenties. In the later years of their marriage, before he’d moved out of her bedroom, their lovemaking had become staid and controlled. Not now. Reese all but ruined her robe in his eagerness to undress her.
When they stumbled into the bedroom and fell onto the bed, they were giggling like teenagers. Their lovemaking was explosive, primal, thrilling. The only sounds to be heard were their moans and deep satisfied sighs.
After they’d finished, Jacqueline lay cradled in her husband’s arms, her eyes moist as she listened to the solid, even beat of Reese’s heart. There was so much that needed to be said, but in the contentment of the moment, none of it seemed important. What mattered was savoring this time, treasuring each other. If nothing else, Jacqueline would have this one night with her husband to remind her that she was very much alive and every inch a woman.
“I never dreamed,” Reese whispered close to her ear. “I’d given up hope that we’d ever share a bed again. I love you. I’ve always loved you, but I didn’t know how to make things different.”
She sighed and kissed his bare chest. “I’m not giving you up.”
“There’s no one else who wants me.”
Jacqueline froze. “What do you mean?”
He gave a resigned sigh. “We’ll speak of this only once and then never again. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“I had an affair ten years ago. Which I realize you knew about. It ended quickly and badly. I felt terrible and I still can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“But every Tuesday night—”
He didn’t let her finish. “I know. I wanted you to think I was still involved. It was stupid and childish, and I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I was looking for a reaction from you. Something—anything—that showed me you cared.”
“The night I made dinner for you and the phone rang and you left….”
“I know what you thought, but you were wrong. It was business. We’d blown a transformer. I swear to you there wasn’t another woman that night or any other night in a very long time.”
“All these years…” She had trouble taking it in.
“Once I started this, I didn’t know how to stop.”
“We’ve both been such fools.” Jacqueline wrapped her arms around his neck and wondered how she’d ever survived outside her husband’s embrace. All this time, the only thing that had stood between them was pride.
“I don’t know what came over you tonight, but I thank God for it,” Reese said.
“You can thank Tammie Lee’s Aunt Frieda.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She pressed her head against his shoulder and smiled. Every day, she found more reasons to be grateful to her daughter-in-law. Reese had been right about that. She finally did have her daughter, and even if Tammie Lee happened to speak with a southern drawl, she was as precious to her as
any daughter could be to a mother.
CHAPTER 46
ALIX TOWNSEND
Alix woke to the sound of smothered groans. Leaning up on one elbow, she stared into the darkness, listening intently. Oddly enough, the muffled agony seemed to be coming from the living room. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed something else out of the ordinary. Laurel’s bed, which was across the room from her own, was empty.
Her roommate had been a real jerk lately. After that one brief episode of friendliness, Laurel had started ignoring her again. They were barely speaking but that was Laurel’s doing, not Alix’s. She’d done her best, tried to maintain a civil relationship. If Laurel said anything to her at all, it was rude or sarcastic.
Alix hadn’t had any news lately about the fate of the apartment complex, but she suspected they’d be losing their place soon. Well, Alix had a plan. Once she had the means, she’d ditch her so-called friend and find a new roommate. The bogus drug bust last spring had been because of Laurel’s stash, not hers. Nevertheless, Alix had paid the price.
In the beginning, Laurel had been apologetic and supportive, looking for ways to make it up to her. That had all changed. Most days she avoided Alix and even when she was around, all she did was sit in front of the television and eat. She hadn’t even gone to her job at the drycleaner’s all week.
Lying down again, Alix tugged the sheet up over her shoulders and closed her eyes, determined to go back to sleep. If Laurel was sick, then it was from all the ice cream she’d been eating. She must’ve gained fifty pounds in the last six months. None of her jeans zipped up and she looked grotesquely fat. Their relationship hadn’t been helped by Laurel making a play for Jordan, either. Alix trusted Jordan, but she wasn’t so sure about Laurel. She’d obviously gone to him hoping for sympathy—and who knew what else?
Alix never did learn what that was all about. Jordan hadn’t volunteered and she hadn’t asked. When she’d confronted Laurel, her roommate told her to mind her own freakin’ business.
Alix was determined to blot out the muffled sounds coming from the other room. If Laurel needed her, then she could come and get her. Alix wasn’t about to offer her help.
Just when Alix was drifting back to sleep, she heard a loud moan, as if Laurel was in horrible pain. Although she wasn’t happy about it, Alix tossed aside her sheet and climbed out of bed.
The living room was dark, and it took her a minute to locate Laurel, who was prone on the sofa with her head braced against the arm. Her knees were bent and she’d draped a blanket over her legs.
“What’s wrong?” Alix asked. She wanted it understood that she was none too pleased about having her sleep disturbed.
“Nothing. Go back to bed.”
Alix hesitated, and then decided what the hell. Laurel wasn’t willing to ask her for help. Fine, if that was how she wanted it.
“Whatever.” Alix was two steps into the bedroom when for some reason she stopped. Faintly she heard Laurel whimper what sounded like: oh God, oh God, oh God.
Walking into the room again, Alix decisively flipped on the light. She stood with her hands on her hips, feet apart. “You’re not all right. What’s wrong?”
Laurel flung her head back and forth and refused to answer. Eyes shut against the light, she bit down on her lower lip and blood oozed from the sides of her mouth. Alix stared at her aghast.
“Laurel,” she whispered.
Her roommate urgently stretched out her arm and when Alix took her hand, Laurel held it in a death grip. “Help me,” she cried. “I can’t do this…I thought…oh God, it hurts so much.”
Alix fell to her knees beside the sofa. All at once, everything added up, and what should’ve been obvious suddenly exploded into her awareness. “You’re in labor?”
Laurel nodded. “I couldn’t tell you…I couldn’t tell anyone.”
“Does John know?”
Tears filled Laurel’s eyes. “Why do you think he dumped me? He said he didn’t want the baby. Or me. He promised he’d pay for an abortion, but he didn’t show up with the money and I couldn’t afford it.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“How could I?”
“We’re friends.” Some friends. Laurel had let her get arrested and yet she didn’t trust Alix with the fact that she was pregnant.
Laurel closed her eyes and arched her back, moaning again.
Alix would figure it out later. Right now, she needed to get Laurel to a hospital. “I’ll go out and find a phone, call for help.”
“No!” Laurel screamed. Her hand crushed Alix’s fingers. “Don’t leave me. It won’t be long now…it can’t be. I can’t take the pain. I can’t deal with this by myself.”
“What should I do?” Alix had never been with anyone in labor before and had no idea how to help.
“I don’t know,” Laurel gasped, panting and writhing with pain. “I think the baby might be coming,” she cried, all-out panic in her voice. “What should I do? Oh God, what should I do?”
“Stay calm,” Alix said, forcing confidence into her own voice, although her heart was galloping at frightening speed. She peeled back the blanket and saw that Laurel had placed a stack of towels beneath her hips. “I’m going to go and wash my hands.”
“No… Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“All right, all right.” Laurel was rolling her head from side to side once more, her face shiny with sweat.
Alix berated herself for not guessing the truth earlier. But Laurel was overweight, so her pregnancy hadn’t been immediately obvious. She still wore her jeans every day and they seemed to be splitting at the seams, but Alix had assumed the weight gain was from depression and her constant eating.
Alix was only away from Laurel for a moment, but her roommate grabbed her hand the instant she was back. Studying Laurel’s face, Alix saw that she was in terrible pain.
“Look and see,” Laurel implored. “Is it ready to come out yet?”
Alix felt completely inadequate to deliver this child. “Do you have anything for the baby?”
Laurel shook her head. “I don’t want it.”
“Laurel,” she pleaded. “What were you going to do with the baby?” Talk about living in a dream world! Laurel had to know the infant would need clothes and blankets and bottles.
Her friend sobbed. “At first I planned to kill it.”
Alix gasped. “You can’t do that!”
“I don’t want this baby.” Laurel screamed and arched her back again when the pain overtook her. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the sofa as she slammed her eyes shut and panted. She took in deep gulps of air, her shoulders heaving with the effort.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Alix saw that the crown of the baby’s head had appeared, thick with matted blond hair. With the next contraction, Alix carefully placed her hands beneath the tiny skull. Laurel drew in a deep breath and tried to look down at the baby but couldn’t.
“It won’t be much longer now,” Alix promised. She felt frightened and helpless and she hoped she was telling the truth.
No more than a minute later, Laurel grunted and started panting again. Suddenly, the infant slipped free. He seemed to glide directly into Alix’s hands. With him came a gush of water and blood.
Tears filled Alix’s eyes. “It’s a boy,” she told Laurel. He didn’t cry right away and Alix’s heart leapt in panic. Acting on instinct, she placed her finger inside his mouth, swabbing it clean. Then she turned him over on his belly and patted his back. Instantly he let out a fierce, belligerent cry. Joy surged through Alix and she stared up at her friend. “He’s beautiful,” she said, awed by the wonder of this moment. A new life had just entered the world.
Laurel refused to look at him and turned her face away. “Cut the cord,” she instructed without emotion.
“I…I don’t think I should…”
“Do it,” Laurel demanded. “Or I’ll do it myself.”
“All right, all rig
ht.” Alix found a knife in the kitchen and, afraid she might infect either her friend or the baby, put it in a pan full of water, which she set on the stove to boil. She dashed back into the living room just in time to deliver the afterbirth.
As soon as she’d cut the cord, Alix took the baby into the bathroom and cleaned him off. Then she wrapped him in the blanket she’d knit in class. Certain Laurel would have a change of heart now that the birth was over, Alix carried the newborn into the living room, hoping to coax her roommate into at least glancing at her son.
“Just look at him once,” Alix pleaded. “He’s perfect, Laurel.”
Laurel refused again with a shake of her head. “Get rid of it.”
Alix couldn’t believe anyone could be so coldhearted. “I can’t do that.”
“Then give it to me and I will.”
“Will…what will you do?” Alix protectively cradled the infant.
“I’ll take it to some Dumpster and leave it there.”
Laurel didn’t even seem to consider this infant a child. She referred to him as “it.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?” she said in a horrified voice. “You don’t want this baby.”
“How many times do I have to say it?” Laurel shouted. “Get rid of that thing.”
With one arm around the newborn, Alix controlled her racing thoughts. If Laurel didn’t want this baby, she knew someone who did. “Sign something.”
“What?” Laurel stared up at her blankly.
“I need a statement from you that says you’re giving up this baby of your own free will.”
Laurel frowned. “Who am I giving this baby to?”
“To a couple for adoption.” Alix took a deep breath. “I know someone who desperately wants and needs a child. I want her and her husband to raise this baby boy. You might not love him, but I know Carol will. I brought him into this world. I feel personally responsible for him now. Like you said, you want me to get rid of him.”
“Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”
“You aren’t going to change your mind?”
The Shop on Blossom Street Page 29
