by Kristi Rose
If this was how Melinda felt every day then it was no wonder she attracted men like bees to honey. This feeling was heady, powerful, and addictive.
The flash of headlights pulled Andee from her thoughts and pushed her into motion.
Buck was home.
Nervous flutters filled her, and she pressed her hand to her stomach to settle them, but was unsuccessful. As if the flutters were transferred, Andee's hands began to shake as well. Having never settled on a pose, she quickly pressed her body up against the counter and then, for good measure, put the straw in her mouth.
She felt like an idiot.
Damn it! Why hadn't she researched ways to present herself? Her mind could only think of stupid poses she'd seen in magazines and posters. She quickly discarded them all, mainly because she didn't have a fainting chaise on which to recreate most of the poses she pictured and didn't want to be on the couch as that was what he would be expecting.
Giving up, she huffed, spit out the straw, and decided to greet him at the door. But halfway there, she changed her mind and turned to sit. Before she could lower herself into the overstuffed wingback, she changed her mind again, instead walking quickly to the kitchen, where she snatched up the mail and started sorting through it.
Buck came into the house with a bang, by both shoving open the door and slamming it shut right after. He stumbled before straightening back up and shuffling to her.
"Hey, babe," he slurred then attempted to kiss her cheek but missed and caught her jawline instead.
"Are you drunk?" The answer was obvious.
"I had a helluva day." He tossed his ball cap at the bar stool next to their island, missed, shrugged then stumbled the ten feet to his favorite recliner, where he fell, slumped into it, and then extended it out to the fullest.
"You had a bad day before or after you started drinking? Did you drive home?" Andee tossed the mail on the counter and picked up the ball cap. She placed it on the island's counter. A tight coil of disappointment mixed with apprehension had replaced her nervous butterflies.
So much for wowing his pants off.
"Nah, Cal drove me home. He followed me to the bar. Suck up." Buck rubbed his hands over his face, which made the last part come out muffled.
"What happened?" She sat on the arm of the couch and faced him.
"I got fired. My old man is a piece of work. You know that?"
Andee sighed. This was not the first time Buck's father had fired him. Usually they would disagree on a sales strategy. Conflicting opinions would lead to angry words and raised voices. Cal, Buck's brother and the quintessential yes man, would always take their dad's side, which inevitably inflated her father-in-law's ego to the point where he'd fire Buck. Usually by the end of the day, he'd call, demand an apology, and tell Buck to report back to work the following day. Who knew people could get so heated over tires and how to sell them?
"What happened this time?"
Buck's eyes were closed, but he raised his brows. "Cal told him we were looking into buying a vacation home. That we're a month out from beginning our search."
"And he fired you for that?" Andee leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.
"No. He fired me because he wants us to go in on a family vacation home. Something in Montana or somewhere where the guys can hunt." He opened his eyes and shifted in the chair to lift his hip up to pull folded papers out of his pocket. He handed them to her.
Red flashes of warning went off in Andee's head. Their vacation home and hunting were two things she'd been dead set against combining There was no point going away with Buck if all he was going to do was hunt. For Andee, relaxing with a man who'd spent long hours in the brush, smelled like animal urine, and didn't shower, was not the image of vacation she had in mind. It certainly wasn't a way to steam up their sex life, either.
After unfolding the papers, she eyed the printouts. "What in the name of all that is good and holy is this?" She held up a picture of a cabin. Well, the word cabin was being generous. Maybe lean-to was more appropriate. "Or this?" Another shanty. "A vacation home in Idaho, Montana, or Wyoming? Are their deer really that much different?" She shuffled through the pages. Before her brain further exploded into a thousand bright and angry pieces, Andee wanted to make sure she had all the facts.
"Dad wants to hunt bigger game. Elk, moose, maybe even bear."
"What happened to the whole 'eat what you hunt' philosophy? When did your family start eating bears?"
"I dunno, Andee. It's stupid, and I said so. I told him no. That you wouldn't be interested in a cabin--"
"Are you interested in a cabin instead of a vacation home?" She stood up, flinging the papers onto the couch.
"What I'm interested in has no bearing in this conversation." He squinted at her before breaking into a laugh. "No pun intended."
"What the hell does that mean?" Andee planted her hands on her hips.
Suddenly, Buck looked at her. His eyes narrowed, or tried to, as much as they could in his current state. "What's different about you? Did you get stuck in the rain? Your hair looks like you just got out of the shower but . . . not." Buck hiccupped and tried to sit further back in the recliner. As if distance would help his vision and perception.
"No. I did not get stuck in the rain. I straightened my hair and had it colored. Look, no more gray." She leaned over him to show him her roots, the touch of gray hidden beneath streaks of chestnut and caramel.
"I can't see past your boobs." He leered. "The twins look good. But I'm not crazy about your hair like that. I like it all fluffy, like a big ball of out-of-control yarn. That's your hair. It's glorious."
"My hair reminds you of yarn?"
Buck tried to sit up but gravity was too much. Instead, he pointed to her shirt. "What's that on the side of your shirt? Come here. Let me touch it."
Andee hesitated, questioning her ethics. Could she seduce him? If he rubbed her shirt, would his hand move upward? Should she stop him or see what happened? He was drunk, after all. There was no telling how the rest of the night was going to turn out. Shrugging, she stepped toward him and turned so the side of her shirt was closest to him, as was her right breast.
Buck rubbed the leather panel that joined the front and back of her shirt. The panels pulled the fabric in and helped accentuate her figure. Buck scratched the leather with his nails.
"What's this? It looks like the underbelly of a dragon," he said and followed it up with a belch.
"You're disgusting."
"You're disgusting. Hurting poor, harmless dragons to make a shirt. I bet they're on the endangered species list." He laughed, clearly more impressed with his joke than she was.
Andee tried not to let the disappointment overwhelm her. Tears pressed against her eyes, begging to be free. This night had not gone even a fraction as she'd imagined, unless she counted the one comment he'd made about her boobs.
"Oh hey, guess what I found out?" Buck said with a snap of his fingers, only his snap was weak and quiet. His attention was drawn to his fingers as he tried to make his snap louder.
Andee clapped her hands together in a loud boom. Buck's head snapped up, his attention on her.
"You were saying?"
"I was?"
"You were saying you found something out today."
"Oh yeah. Guess who's getting divorced?" His expression was smug; he knew he was beating her to the scoop.
Andee was suddenly very interested. "Who?"
"Kevin and Lisa Norman."
Andee froze, panic wrapping a cold hand around her as she struggled to grasp what Buck said, but could only focus on one thing--Kevin and Lisa's relationship was nearly identical to hers and Buck's. The guys had graduated together just like the girls had, and they'd been together just as long. They never seemed to fight, were always laughing and hugging. Was it Lisa's need to always sport some new jewel or that she lived at the gym? Was it Kevin's receding hairline? Andee covered her mouth. Th
ey had three children, and she couldn't help but think of them. No one had ever expected them to split up. Ever.
"Are you kidding me? What happened?"
Buck shrugged. "I heard he has a little honey on the side."
Andee pressed her hand to her heart and took in a shallow breath, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. Kevin and Lisa were at the ten-year marriage mark as well.
Fear rippled through her as she tried to think about life without Buck. It was impossible to imagine, as they'd been together for half her life. She didn't know any other man. She didn't want to.
"Bucky," she said. "Come to bed."
But he was already asleep, soft snores coming from his open mouth. Andee covered him with an afghan his mother had made them and walked slowly around her house, turning out the lights, and touching items they'd collected over the years. Mementos from vacations together, memories attached to each piece, but her mind was on the Normans and trying to not compare how much they had in common with her and Buck.
In their room, she washed her face without seeing her reflection in the mirror before her, instead focused on what was in the past. Snippets of their life that might have contributed to the crappy state their marriage was currently in. The rift between them looked small, innocuous, but she was quite certain if she peered over the edge, she'd find the depth greater than she'd thought. There was more going on here. Buck getting fired and drunk? That wasn't him. Fired happened at least twice a year and was inevitable with a misanthropic asshole like his father for a boss.
But to get drunk knowing he would have to face his father again tomorrow was only borrowing trouble. Something she herself could not avoid, as she tried not to think about his reaction to her--or lack thereof. What man preferred his wife to look like she'd been cleaning toilets all day versus looking as if she'd sex him up in a hot minute? A man who wasn't romantically interested in his wife, that's who.
Both mentally and physically weary, she fell into bed and refused to give in to her tears. But sleep eluded her as she lay on her side of the large bed, Buck's side empty. Her mind continued to drift to the Normans, trying to imagine what Lisa was going through. Eventually, after she'd lost the war and succumbed to her tears, she fell into a fitful sleep that was heavy on dreams of a bleak future.
KISS ME AGAIN
CHAPTER FOUR
Because she was co-owner of a breakfast diner, Two Chicks and Bacon, Andee had to be an early riser. It was her job to grab the papers, fresh vegetables, flowers, and other essentials that she and Lorelei used each morning. The next morning was no different, with the exception that her hair was straight, her clothes new and better fitting, and she'd spent more time on her makeup. She'd needed to in order to hide her red, puffy eyes.
Cleaving tightly to what she perceived to be the threads of her marriage, she banked her disappointment and fears in hopes of clearing her head so she could find a solution. She desperately needed a plan. Forward motion had to be better than this whirlpool of inactivity, just circling around the issue.
Andee started the coffeepot for Buck, but she didn't kiss his cheek to wake him nor did she set out the fresh orange juice that he liked to drink before he went on his regular morning run. She assumed he'd be in no state for the physical activity and would likely wake up at the last minute and rush to work. She wondered if she should make him a Bloody Mary--hair of the dog if you will--to help fortify him for the battle with his father. But eventually she decided the last thing he needed was more booze in his system.
By the time she arrived at the diner, carrying her stock in a large crate, her brain still had not produced an inkling of an idea, and her mood had gone from proactively determined to foul and scared. She kicked the door closed behind her and wished she could kick it again. Lorelei stood in the kitchen, a large bowl resting in the crook of her arm, the whisk hovering above it.
"Morning. You look pretty. I like your hair," Lorelei said quietly.
"Really?" Andee's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Bucky likes my hair frizzy. Says it reminds him of yarn."
Lorelei's mouth made a small "O" but no sound came out. She placed the bowl on the counter, whisk standing up in the batter, and faced her friend.
"You wanna talk about it?"
Andee shook her head. "In his defense, he was drunk, but if I think about it I might start crying." She slid the crate onto the counter.
Lorelei had been Andee's best friend since elementary school, but how did one tell a blissfully happy, almost-newly married woman about the dark side of marriage? Besides, Lorelei was known for her temper, and being six months pregnant and hormonal only increased the odds that if she heard everything, she might punch Buck in the junk the next time she saw him.
Lorelei reached out and pulled her into a hug. "OK. I'm here whenever you're ready."
Andee nodded and swallowed past the lump in her throat. She hated pity parties, especially when she was the center of one, but darn if she just couldn't get herself out of it.
"Are you still up for the interviews today?" With Lorelei's baby due in four months, they needed to hire someone to replace her while she was on maternity leave. Truth was the diner was doing so well they could afford to hire enough additional people that both Lorelei and Andee could take more time off. Andee had dreamt about spending that time in her new vacation home, the thought of which brought a sense of calm to her chaotic state of mind.
"Yeah, I'm still good for that. The sooner we nail that down, the sooner we can move on to the other things we want to do."
Lorelei sighed. "It'll be hard not coming here six days a week. It's all I've known for eight years. But a break will be nice."
"I'm not sure a baby is much of a break," Andee said with a laugh.
She went through her morning set-up routine in a haze, full of questions about what her next action should be. What if he didn't respond like she expected yet again? If she tried one more time, and he didn't notice, could she survive the blow to her esteem? To their marriage? Clearly, he was underwhelmed by her new look.
What had started out as an attempt to bring them closer had only succeeded in building one more obstacle for her to overcome.
Andee flipped the sign to open and unlocked the doors, greeting the regulars as they made their way to their favorite tables.
"Don't you look pretty," said Mr. Jenkins, her former drivers-ed teacher, now retired, as she filled his coffee. "You do something different?"
"My hair's not curly. I straightened it."
Mr. Thompson looked at her hair and shook his head. "Nah, I think it's more the way you're carrying yourself. That color looks nice on you."
Even with all the weight of her home life pressing down on her, Andee couldn't help but feel pretty in the new outfit she'd picked out with Melinda. The fact that Mr. Thompson, a man, had noticed . . . Well. Andee pressed her lips together briefly before letting the words tumble free. "You noticed the color? I thought that was beyond men."
"Girl, I've been married nearly fifty years. I've learned to notice color." He finished his sentence with a wink.
A million questions begged to be asked, but Andee surveyed the crowd and held her tongue. Maybe an opportunity to pick his brain would arise at a later date. She could only hope.
After returning to the coffeemaker, she set the empty carafe on the hotplate to be refilled and grabbed the full one, ready to replenish cups at the counter, stopping short when she saw Melinda Bane sitting there, her hands wrapped around a mug.
"So?" Melinda wiggled one brow.
"So nothing." Andee refilled her cup.
"Oh, come on. Don't hold out on me. I need details."
Andee leaned across the counter and dropped her voice. "Seriously. Nothing. He had a bad day at work, came home drunk, and thought my shirt was made of dragon skin . . ." She shrugged instead of bursting into tears.
Melinda slapped her hand against the linoleum and leaned back in the chair. "You have got to be
kidding me," she said in a loud voice.
"Shhh. Keep it down."
Melinda leaned forward. "I never thought of Bucky Swift as a buffoon, but hey, wonders never cease. What about your hair?"
"He said it looked like it did when I got out of the shower. He did not prefer it. He did, however, like my breasts."
"Well, that's something. I think you look very pretty."
"Great. Then you and I can get married." Andee leaned against the counter and slapped the edge repeatedly with a tea towel. "Oh my word! Did you hear?" She bent closer toward Melinda.
"Hear what?"
Andee looked around the diner at the guests. She knew gossiping wasn't friendly, but this was more about panic and learning from other's troubles. Regardless, she didn't want to offend anyone. "Lorelei, come here a sec." Andee waved her friend over.
When the three were together, Andee closed the space between them and lowered her voice. "Kevin and Lisa Norman are getting divorced."
Lorelei gasped but Melinda sat back in her chair.
"Good for Lisa," Melinda said. "That butt face has been careless and disrespectful. If a person is in a relationship they should end it before starting one with another person." Melinda sat forward "You know, he cornered me about a month ago and propositioned me. As if I do that sort of thing. As if I don't know his wife or hadn't just served his kids breakfast." Melinda owned a greasy spoon that would be Two Chicks' competition if the menus were even remotely similar.
Melinda continued, "Just because I'm divorced doesn't mean I'm easy, like he implied. Of course he did this after I caught him out with some young girl, looked fresh out of college. And I'm being generous here."
