He shifted his weight and stuck his hands in his jean pockets. “I never thought I was an alcoholic because I can make myself stop. But because of alcohol I don’t know if I cheated on my wife or not. I mean, I kissed another woman and I feel bad about that. But maybe Val could forgive me for that. . . I don’t know. The thing is I was so drunk, I went into another woman’s bedroom and I can’t even remember. . . .”
Someone coughed, but otherwise the room remained still. Quiet. Everyone listened to Nathan’s confession. “I don’t know what’s the worst thing I did that night. I also got behind the wheel.” His eyes moved to the second row and to Lex, who killed his best friend when he drove drunk. As if unable to stand the shared connection, Lex looked down at his folded hands in his lap.
Nathan squeezed the back of his neck. “Fortunately, the cops arrested me before I did any damage or hurt anyone.” He swallowed. “I easily could’ve killed an innocent person that night.” Blinking back tears, he shook his head. He sniffled and the floodgates opened. He sobbed in front of all of these strangers. “I’m sorry.” His cheeks burned with embarrassment.
He wiped his nose with his knuckle. “Ever since I fell down the stairs, my life has been out of control. That’s why I can’t stop crying right now.” He chuckled. “My wife doesn’t like who I’ve become, I don’t remember how to be my old self, and. . .” Another short laugh. “Now she’s pregnant.”
A gasp from the crowd. He looked at Rod whose eyes grew wide.
Nathan’s nose continued to run, but he forced himself to go on. “I don’t know if I can fix my marriage, but I know that I have to pull myself together for the sake of this baby. . . “ Sniff. “All I know for sure is that alcohol doesn’t help. I’m brain damaged enough as it is. From now on, I’ll never take another drink.”
Applause. Then a few people mumbled, “One day at a time. One day at a time.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Rows of white-painted, wooden chairs facing the fireplace filled Val’s living room. With the grand piano gone, they easily fit thirty people in there. Val stood and watched Chip descend the stairs holding his ring bearer’s pillow in front as if it were an offering to the gods. Beside him, Anna clasped a small basket of daisies, tossing their petals as she went.
Anna stumbled on one of the steps. Val’s heart jumped. Chip grabbed Anna’s hand and caught her. A collective sigh filled the air.
Chip bent over and picked up the pillow he’d dropped. They continued holding hands the rest of the way down. Murmurs of “how cute” traveled around the room.
From the back corner, Nathan’s harmonica started playing “Here Comes the Bride.” Val shivered with anticipation and memories.
Joely, dressed in her vintage, plain white dress, climbed down the stairs, her hand gripping the wrought iron banister for support. Daisies encircled her upswept brunette curls.
Val gasped at how gorgeous her friend looked. Joely’s skin glowed and her rosy smile revealed all: this was truly the happiest day of her life. Right behind her, Kate followed, though there wasn’t much of a train for her to carry. Even Joely’s sister seemed pleased about this union.
Dark thoughts seeped into Val’s head. You might think you know what’s to come, Joely, but you don’t. After all, I’d thought Nathan and I would be together forever. Too quickly their flame had burned out.
The aroma of fresh-baked apple pie filled her senses. She glanced around to see if anyone else smelled it, but clearly, they didn’t. Helen. Last night Val had read the last page of the diary. It said that Helen would always treasure this house as a testament to her husband’s faith and love. All who lived here needed to treasure it, too. Now that Val had saved it from foreclosure, Helen should be able to rest easy.
Val squeezed her eyes shut and pushed all negativity aside. At one point Helen’s marriage had seemed doomed, but it had worked out. At that thought, Val smiled, wishing Joely and Jake all the best. That’s all anyone could hope for.
Joely made her way to the marble fireplace where Jake stood, waiting. He looked almost too perfect with his blond hair slicked back and his tall frame in a tux. His expression mimicked Joely’s. They both had waited for this moment for too long.
As the minister conducted the ceremony, Val’s mind wandered. Chip sat next to her during what seemed like the perfect celebration for Joely. Simple elegance surrounded by friends. Val watched as Joely and Jake grinned at each other. She was glad her friend had decided to quit fighting with her body and take her exercise regime slower. Jake was a great match for her. He stepped up to the plate whenever Joely’s lupus flared. He’d even suggested Joely stop working at Kelly Designs and do commissioned artwork from home. Val hated the idea of not seeing her friend every day, but she understood. Joely hadn’t made up her mind yet.
Chip pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and studied it, his lips moving. Joely turned toward the boy and motioned that it was time. Chip hopped up and took center stage. He shifted from his left foot to his right, clasping the wrinkled paper. “Love is p-p-patient. Love is kind. It does not en-vy, it does not. . .boast.” He coughed. “It is not proud.” He wadded the paper up and shoved it into his pants pocket. Everyone laughed and applauded. Chip looked at Val and beamed. He’d been practicing that with his tutor for weeks.
After the brief ceremony, everyone moved out onto the adjoining covered patio. The air smelled clean and sweet, like freshly mown summer grass. Val flipped on the ceiling fan before helping Kate pour the champagne. This was even better than the wine tasting party she had envisioned inside these arched doors. She chatted and laughed easily with the small crowd as she made her way through.
When she reached Nathan, she froze. She clutched the half-full champagne bottle tight.
He shook his head. “None for me. Thanks.” His eyes looked olive today. Dark and sad.
Touching her protruding belly, she felt as if the world stopped. “I’m not drinking either.” Her heart thudded. Her throat dried. She struggled to breathe.
He placed his palm over the hand covering their unborn child. “How is our little one today?”
One shoulder jerked up. “Okay, I guess.” She didn’t want his warm hand to move. Bittersweet time lingered. But she knew this couldn’t last. She swallowed. “Well, I’d better get back to work.” She gestured toward the champagne bottle.
His hand stayed put. His eyes locked on hers. “I asked Rod for my job back. No, that’s not true. I can’t do my old job. I told him I’d do anything. Oil changes. Wash cars. Simple stuff that I can’t mess up.”
“Nathan. . . .” Words failed her. She glanced at their two hands, fitting together like spoons. The way their bodies once had. “I’m happy for you.”
His broad shoulders rose with his breath. “Once I’ve proven myself again, I’ll ask him to re-train me on the more complicated stuff. I’ll write it all down in my notebook.” He removed his hand and a chill came.
She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. She wiped them away with her fist.
He reached in his breast pocket and handed her his handkerchief.
He could be so gallant. Take it. Take it. She accepted his offer and dabbed at her tears. “Thanks.” Now what should she do? Hand it back to him or wash it first?
He held up his palm. “You keep it.”
“We should talk. Maybe later.”
He shook his head. “Now.” He took the champagne bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. Gently, he gripped her elbow and led her outside into the backyard, where it was less crowded. He looked around as if he expected to see Homer rolling in the grass, but Val had locked the dog away for the wedding.
Nathan returned his attention to her. “Is there any chance you could forgive me?”
She sucked in air. She didn’t want to think about the past. All she wanted was for this baby to grow up in a happy home with two parents who adored it. Her hand rubbed her abdomen. “You really hurt me. I don’t know if I can trust you.” The words wrestled
with her heart. Her insides screamed in protest. You love him. He’s the father of your child.
His eyes glanced at her belly and then back at her face. “I’m in AA. I’ll never see. . .” He didn’t seem to want to say the woman’s name. “. . .her again. I’m even going to take some anger management classes that the counselor recommended. I’ve got to learn how to. . .” He shook his head and stared at the ground.
She lifted his chin. “I’m sorry you have to work so hard. I’m sorry you fell down the stairs and hit your head.”
“It’s not your fault. You don’t need to be sorry.”
“But you tripped while you were doing me a favor.” She shifted her weight, getting tired standing for so long. The heat seemed a bit much for her today.
“That’s what husbands do for their wives.” He gazed up at the orange barrel tiles. The roof was finally complete. “How did you come up with the idea to sell the piano?”
“Kelly helped me realize its worth.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “The truth is I should’ve figured it out sooner.” She thought of Helen playing the piano at night. Hinting that it held the key. Did Val dare tell him the truth? If they were going to try and work things out, there could be no more secrets. Her heart beat faster. “The house has a ghost and she tried to tell me.”
He burst out laughing. A full belly laugh, his head tossed back.
She stepped away. Horrified. She turned and walked toward the crowd. Her hands shaking. Why had she told him? First her own mother scoffed and now him.
He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I laughed. I’ve seen your books about ghosts, but I didn’t know you believed in them.”
“Well, I do. And I don’t think it’s funny.”
“I don’t either. I don’t know why I laughed. Sometimes my brain makes the wrong connection and my emotions get mixed up. I was surprised, but I didn’t think it was funny.” Now he started to cry. “Oh, Val. My sweet Valentine. I love you and I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”
His tears caught her off guard. This was who he was now. Hot and cold. Happy one minute and sad the next. And it wasn’t his fault. He was trying everything he could to be the man he once was. But he probably never would be. Just like the counselor said.
She heaved deeply. With his handkerchief, she blotted his eyes. The corners of her lips pulled up. “I love you, too.” Not that that was enough. Marriage was more complicated than that.
He sniffed. “I didn’t sleep with her, you know. But I did do some stuff I shouldn’t have. . . . Can you forgive me?”
It took a moment for that to sink in. He hadn’t slept with that young woman. That was something.
“I’ll even go on anti-depressants or whatever Dr. Shouse thinks will help.”
The recent ceremony replayed in her mind. For richer for poorer. In sickness and in health. Did those words really mean anything? She swallowed. It was up to her to give those words power. “Better than that. I accept you for who you are.” Just like Jake accepted Joely.
He pushed his lips against hers. Hard. Too hard.
She pulled back. She saw his forehead wrinkle in confusion. “There’s something I want to show you.” Her lips kissed his left cheek, then his right. For the third kiss, she gently touched their lips together. “Do you remember that?”
His eyes looked up and to the side, searching his brain. He shook his head.
“That’s all right.” She rubbed her thumb against his scratchy cheek, just as she had while he was lying in that coma. She had prayed to God to let him wake up and here he was. She’d promised that she’d be a devoted wife. “That’s the way you kissed me on our first date. You told me later it was because you were trying to work up the nerve to kiss me on the lips.” She smiled at the memory.
He cocked his head. “Is that how you prefer me to kiss you?”
She shrugged. “Not all the time. But sometimes.”
“That’s fair.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He leaned in and kissed her left cheek. Softly, sweetly. A moment later his lips caressed her right cheek with equal care. Then he looked her in the eye and hesitated.
She longed for him to complete the sequence.
She licked her lips. Her breath shallow. Her soul on fire.
Her eyes studied his. Silently urging him to keep going. One, two, three. Three had to follow one and two.
Until at last. . .
He plunged his mouth forward onto hers. Her heart crescendoed with joy. Endorphins exploded throughout her body. Her eyelids fluttered closed. All of her senses shut off so she could focus solely on touch.
Oblivious to the people celebrating nearby, their embrace went on and on. It was the most passionate, intense kiss she’d ever experienced.
As their lips danced together, she knew he’d be sleeping in her bed tonight.
Tonight and always.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Karen Lenfestey, a Midwest Writer’s Fellowship winner, studied communication at Purdue University and counseling at Indiana University. She has three other novels, A Sister’s Promise, What Happiness Looks Like and A Weekend Getaway. She also wrote a romance novella, Made for Two, and a collection of recipes for new moms called A Mom’s Life: Warm Fuzzies, Food & Fun available on Amazon. If you liked this book, one of the nicest things you can do is write a review on Amazon at www.tinyurl.com/verge-novel.
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A Weekend Getaway
by Karen Lenfestey:
Bethany has always put everyone else’s needs first. That’s why as a college freshman, pregnant by her roommate’s boyfriend, she did the selfless thing by quietly putting her baby up for adoption. That’s why 15 years later, she’s raising her boyfriend’s niece instead of starting her own family. At thirty-four, she finds the list of her good deeds and her boyfriend’s shortcomings growing longer every day.
She thinks a weekend away might put the spark back in their relationship. Unfortunately, her boyfriend backs out, leaving Beth to attend a college reunion alone. Reconnecting with her friends stirs up old crushes, jealousies and secrets. She learns that the baby she once placed for adoption has a genetic connection to a fatal disease. Suddenly she’s forced to own up to her past and track down the child she gave away. In the end, Bethany must admit that she sometimes hurts the ones she claims to love the most.
A WEEKEND GETAWAY
CHAPTER ONE
As Bethany lugged the suitcase down the creaky stairs of her boyfriend’s Victorian, she kept thinking if he were more of a gentleman, he’d offer to carry it for her. She grunted as if the bag contained more than just a weekend’s worth of clothes. Drew didn’t take the hint, so she added this infraction to the list she kept in her head, then reminded herself that this would be the weekend that changed everything.
Drew’s voice echoed from the downstairs bathroom. “What the hell. . .?”
His African grey parrot, Captain Kirk, mimicked, “What the hell—what the hell.” For some reason, the captain was especially drawn to curse words. They’d thought it was funny until Drew’s three-year-old niece, Emma, moved in with them a couple months ago.
Beth dropped the suitcase in the musty front parlor and headed toward the bathroom, one of the few rooms that had been completely renovated. Surrounded by striped wallpaper, she saw Drew standing between a claw foot tub and an old-fashioned high tank toilet. “What’s wrong?”
Drew stared at the tile floor. “The toilet’s leaking.” He shook his short rust-colored hair while his eyes remained fixed on the puddle spreading on the left side of the base. “Where are the rags?”
She’d lived in that house for nearly a year and he still didn’t know where she kept things? It seemed only logical to her. Releasing a sigh, she opened up the mahoga
ny doors beneath the sink and handed him a thick cotton rectangle.
He wiped up the puddle and watched for another to appear. When it didn’t, he yanked the toilet’s gold chain and stood there, waiting.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was hoping. “Let’s get going. I promised Ivy that we’d get there early.”
From around the corner, the Captain repeated, “What the hell-what the hell.”
A bit of water oozed out of the gap between the porcelain and the tile. Drew twisted his mouth to the side. “You’ll have to go without me. I need to fix the toilet.”
“What?” Her heart jerked and picked up its pace.
They’d arranged for his parents to watch Emma so that she and Drew could go to her college reunion together. They desperately needed this getaway. She’d finally worked up the nerve to tell him the truth—that at thirty-four, she was too old to have a boyfriend. She wanted more. “I don’t want to go alone.”
“Sorry. We can’t ignore this. The floor will rot.”
“Do you know how to fix it?”
He pulled on his ear—the sign that he wasn’t sure. As a software engineer, he hated to admit when basic household fixtures stumped him. “I’ll have to remove the whole toilet and take a look. Maybe the seal’s broken.”
She surveyed Drew’s face then the floor. “Let’s call a plumber and see if someone can come out right away.”
“On a Friday night? That’ll be expensive. If I can figure it out myself, then that’s what I want to do.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t want to go. Admit it.”
A guilty smile tugged at his lips. “Actually, I have tons of work to do this weekend. With Emma gone, I could really make some progress around here. I could tear down that old wallpaper in her room and paint. Besides, they’re all your friends—not mine. With my luck, somebody will ask me what I think of the Ponies’ chances of going to the NFL this year.”
On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3) Page 23
