A White Picket Fence

by Laura Branchflower

  “I don’t know. I have the same beautiful distraction sitting with me.”

  She looked down at her own sandwich. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “Maybe, although I know you are still very much a married woman, so I probably shouldn’t be.”

  “He moved out. We’re separated.”

  “You told him you loved him last night.”

  She frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “You were barely conscious and technically you told me, but you thought I was him. It was right after reminding me I had a dental appointment today.”

  Her face heated. It was true. She’d texted Phil that morning to remind him of his dental appointment. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why—”

  “Lina, it’s fine. You’ve been separated five days, and you were together a long time. I’m a big boy, and my eyes are wide open. And for now, for that reason and the reasons I gave you at my house last Saturday, we’re just friends.”

  The dog sprinted across the yard, his long legs covering the forty yards Logan had thrown the ball in seconds. “Not so far,” Lina said. “He could run away.”

  It was Friday afternoon, and Lina and Logan had just brought the dog home from a local shelter.

  “He isn’t going to run away.” Logan kneeled down as the dog, a Boxer-Labrador mix, according to the pound, came bounding back to him. “You love us, don’t you, boy?” He put the dog in a headlock and began to wrestle with him, rolling him onto his back.

  “Be careful,” Lina said. “You could hurt him.”

  “He’s fine,” Logan laughed as the dog began to lick his face. “Aren’t you, Tyson?”

  “Tyson?”

  “Yeah, because he’s part Boxer. Get it?”

  “I get it, but his name is Knight,” Lina said.

  “He’s not even black,” Logan said.

  “No, Knight as in knight in shining armor,” Lina said, hoping that’s the role he would play for her when she awoke in the night.

  “He’s funny looking,” Katie said as she joined them. “Why is his nose all pushed in?”

  “He isn’t funny looking,” Logan said. “He’s half-Boxer.”

  “Hi.” Katie timidly touched his head when he pushed his nose against her leg in greeting. “I thought you were going to get a puppy.” She began to pet him with both hands.

  “No, I wanted him to be house-trained,” Lina said. “He’s about two.”

  “I guess he’s cuter than funny looking,” Katie said as she studied him. “What do you think Dad’s going to say?”

  “Why should he say anything?” Logan snapped, scowling at her. “He doesn’t live here. He doesn’t have a right to an opinion!”

  “Sorry,” Katie said. “Calm down.”

  “Don’t get upset with her,” Lina said. “She asked an innocent question.”

  “Well, he doesn’t,” Logan said before stomping away, the dog on his heels.

  “Logan?” Lina called after him, taking a few hesitant steps before deciding to let him cool down on his own. He had been so happy, more like his old self, since picking up the dog two hours earlier, but at the mention of his father he was back to the angry teen he’d been most of the week.

  “May I spend the night at Emma’s?” Katie asked.

  “Katie—”

  “What? Am I going to be punished forever? It’s been a year and a half.”

  Lina sighed. She’d known this question was coming. With Phil gone, it was only a matter of time before Katie tried to push her boundaries. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Please.” For the first time in at least two years, Katie initiated physical contact, taking Lina’s hand. “I won’t drink or anything. I swear.”

  “I just need to think,” Lina said.

  If it were only up to her, Lina would let Katie spend the night at Emma’s, but she knew it wasn’t, so she called Phil’s cell phone. When it went directly to voicemail, she called his office. “Hi, Anne, it’s Lina Hunter,” she began as soon as his secretary answered. “Is he in?”

  There was a longer than normal pause before his secretary responded. “I’m sorry, but it was my understanding that Mr. Hunter was having his surgery today. He didn’t come in.”

  “Oh, right. I just had a brain freeze. I’m sorry.” She hung up her phone and immediately called Diane. “Phil is having surgery?” she asked as soon as Diane answered.

  “Not anymore. He had it this morning.”

  “Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I never thought about telling you. I guess I assumed you—”

  “Where is he?” Lina interrupted.

  “His plan was to recover at his brother’s over the weekend.”

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe no one told me my husband was having surgery.”

  “Don’t you mean your estranged husband? Last time we spoke, you sounded like you were on the road to divorce.”

  “He’s still my children’s father. I should know if he’s having surgery.”

  “It was his hand, Lina, not his heart. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “I’ve got to go.” She slammed the phone down. She should have been told. He’d taken the kids to dinner the night before and could easily have come into the house and let her know.

  “Did you decide?” Katie asked, coming up behind her.

  “Did you know your dad was having surgery on his hand today?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “No one told me.”

  “Oh. Can I spend the night at Emma’s?”

  “Yes. Get your things. I’ll take you now.”

  “Lina?” Her sister-in-law, Jeanie, stepped back from the door. “I didn’t know —.”

  “How is he?” she interrupted. She hadn’t spoken to Jeanie in the week since Phil left, but clearly the other woman knew of the separation.

  “I think he’s asleep.” She twisted her hands together. “Mike just told me everything last night. I’m in shock. I was going to call you tonight.”

  “It’s fine.” She liked Jeanie, but they’d never been particularly close, and she had no desire to discuss her marriage with her. “Where is he?”

  It had been six days since he left, but the man lying asleep on the bed looked so different he may as well have been a stranger. He had a beard—not a full beard, but he was well on his way, the lower part of his face completely obscured by his dark scruff. And he’d clearly lost weight. His collarbones, visible through the V-neck opening of a white T-shirt, were more prominent than she could ever remember. His right hand, thick with gauze reaching almost to his elbow, was propped up on some pillows. His mouth was open slightly, and his chest was rising and falling with his breathing.

  She curled her hands into fists as she resisted the urge to touch him, not wanting to wake him. Her eyes traveled over him, pausing on his left hand, which was lying on his stomach, his wedding band resting close to his knuckle. He was still her husband. She should have been the one waiting for him at the hospital and taking care of him as he recovered. She sat down in a club chair beside the bed, continuing to watch him sleep.

  Over an hour passed before his eyes opened, and as soon as they did they were focusing on her. “Lina?”

  “How do you feel?” She was out of the chair and beside the bed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see how you were.”

  “Why?” He shifted slightly, his lips twisting in pain as his injured hand moved.

  “Do you need something? When was the last time you took a painkiller?”

  He closed his eyes, turning his face away from her. “Go home.”

  “You’d rather have Jeanie take care of you than me?”

  “No. I would rather be home in my own bed, but you kicked me out, remember?” He grimaced.

  “Phil, you need to take something.”

  “No, what I need is for you to leave, unless you’re here to tell me you want me back. Is that why yo
u’re here?” He opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “No, but you’re still my husband and—”

  “Out.” He pointed to the door with his good hand.

  “Why are you being like this?”

  “You told me you don’t want to be my wife.”

  “You took her to Steamboat.”

  “Fuck.” He gripped his forehead. “I know why. You don’t have to remind me. But if you don’t want to be my wife, you shouldn’t be trying to take care of me.”

  “I care about you,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. “I can’t just stop.”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head. “Don’t cry.”

  “Why won’t you let me take care of you?” She touched the side of his face, her fingers running over his beard.

  “Stop.” He gripped her hand. “This isn’t how it works. If you don’t want to be dependent on me anymore, you can’t expect me to be dependent on you. It’s a two-way street, Lina. Either you want to be my wife in every sense of that word or you don’t. I don’t want the friend side without the lover side, okay?” He squeezed her hand. “Those are my terms, and as long as we’re not living under the same roof, our only interaction is going to be in regards to the kids.”

  “You really want me to leave?” She took a step back, her hands falling limply to her sides.

  “Yes.”

  35

  Even with the heat from the fire pit and a borrowed sweatshirt from Ryan, Katie felt the chill of the late-October evening as she sat in a lawn chair beside Emma, her knees pressed into her chest and her arms cradling her legs as she listened to Ryan strumming his guitar. Several of Ryan’s friends were there, but so far there was no sign of Matt, who, despite getting Katie’s number from Emma, hadn’t called her.

  Another thirty minutes passed before Ryan stopped playing his guitar, nodding as he focused on someone behind Katie. “Hey, dude. I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”

  “I had to get a shower after work.”

  The chill in the air was forgotten, and butterflies fluttered in Katie’s stomach. She stole a look over her shoulder at the boy she hadn’t seen since Ryan left for college two months earlier but who continued to consume an inordinate amount of her thoughts. Besides the addition of a black leather jacket, he looked just as she remembered him in worn jeans and a black T-shirt, his dark hair spiked up on top of his head.

  “How did the audition go?” one of the other guys asked.

  “Good.”

  “When will you know?”

  “I got it.”

  “Fuck yeah, man!” There was a chorus of equally enthusiastic congratulations as the other guys jumped up to slap Matt’s hand or pat him on the back.

  “Got what?” Katie asked, too curious to stay quiet.

  “Matt auditioned for a legit band in Baltimore that plays some serious venues and shit,” Ryan answered.

  “Are you going to remember us when you’re famous?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah, right,” Matt said.

  “Hey, take my chair,” Ryan said. “I’ll grab another from the barn.”

  “Just share with Katie,” Emma said. “She’s tiny. She barely takes up any space.”

  Katie looked up at him, her heart skipping. “If you want.”

  When she began to slide over, he held out his hand, his eyes meeting hers. “You can sit on my lap.”

  She didn’t say a word as he pulled her to her feet and then down into his lap, his hands resting on her jean-clad thighs as she leaned back against him, the heat from his body warming hers.

  As Ryan started playing again, Katie began to relax, heat spreading through her chest in response to Matt’s closeness. She became conscious of the beating of his heart, the hardness of his chest and the feel of his thighs pressed against the backs of hers. If it had been up to her, the moment would never have ended.

  “Do you want to play something?” Ryan asked Matt, pausing after a song.

  “No.” Matt’s thumb was now tracing a circular pattern on her thigh, and if it hadn’t been for the others, Katie would have closed her eyes. She wanted everyone else to disappear so she could be alone with him. Every so often she felt his nose tickling the back of her neck as he breathed in. “You smell good, Hunter,” he whispered at one point.

  The time passed too quickly, and as the guys slowly began to leave, Katie knew it was only a matter of time before the one leaving would be Matt. Although she’d been sitting on his lap for over two hours, they’d barely exchanged a word.

  “I’m heading in,” Ryan said, coming to his feet. “Are you crashing here?” he asked Matt.

  “No, I have to work early. I can give Hunter a ride home.”

  “She’s spending the night,” Emma said. “I’m freezing. You guys want to go in?”

  “I’m going to stay out here a little longer,” Matt said. “I’ll put out the fire.”

  “Me too,” Katie said. She made no move to leave his lap even though there were now several empty chairs.

  As soon as they were alone, Matt patted her thigh. “Let’s go to the barn.”

  The barn had electricity but no heat, and after turning on a light, Matt led her to an overstuffed couch across from where the band usually practiced, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Put this on.”

  Too cold to point out that he was only wearing a T-shirt, she slipped her arms into the sleeves, enclosing herself in the smell of him and of leather as she sunk down onto the couch beside him. “Thanks.”

  “It sucks about your parents.”

  Katie shrugged. “It’s kind of better. I don’t think my mom will be as strict as my dad. It’s weird though—him calling me at night and stuff. He doesn’t live with us, but I talk to him more than when he did.”

  “When my dad split, I never heard from him again. I guess it wasn’t enough time to bond to me or whatever.”

  “He sounds like a dick,” Katie said, hating the faceless father that made Matt feel unwanted.

  “Yeah, I guess he is.”

  “What about your mom? What was she like?”

  “She was a drug addict,” he said so nonchalantly Katie had to replay his words in her head to make sure she’d heard him right. “She OD’d.”

  “Fuck,” Katie whispered. She’d assumed she died of cancer or something. “I had no idea.”

  “No one around here does.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked down at the floor. “I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent.

  “It was two years ago today,” he continued. “I had this job after school working at a hardware store, and I got paid that day, so I stopped on the way home and picked up some groceries. Orange juice, eggs, milk—shit like that. She was still warm when I found her. If I hadn’t stopped, I don’t know—maybe she’d still be alive.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not true.”

  “I know it’s not my fault, but sometimes I wonder whether things would have been different, you know, if I hadn’t stopped that day.”

  “My grandma says that everyone’s time is set. That it’s already determined. That was her day.” She touched him then, running her hand over the muscles of his upper back and shoulders.

  “Maybe.” He dropped his head forward. “Would you rub my other shoulder too?”

  She hesitated, unsure how to reach his other shoulder, and then she was scooting her body behind his to get better leverage, her thighs straddling his hips as she began to massage his upper shoulders and neck. “Like that?”

  “Yeah.” He tilted his head from one side to the other, groaning when she squeezed a tight muscle. “I still think about her every day. I don’t try to. It just happens. Most of the time she was more worried about getting her next fix than what I was doing, but sometimes she was almost like a normal mom, you know, concerned about me and stuff.”

  Katie wanted to w
rap her arms around him, but she was afraid it was too soon, so she contented herself with running her hands over his neck and shoulders and said the words that came to her. “You miss her.”

  “I used to sing to her. She was always asking me to. That night when I drove you home and you asked me to sing to you, it reminded me of that. She gave me my first guitar.”

  Minutes passed, her hands sliding over his back and neck and occasionally dipping below the collar of his shirt to the warm skin beneath as she absorbed the enormity of what he’d confided. He’d found his mom dead when he was sixteen, the same age she was now. Tears came to her eyes. She had an overwhelming desire to protect him and keep him from ever being hurt again, to be the one person who would never leave him. In that moment, she knew she couldn’t hold back her own truth. He had to know all of her, like she knew all of him.

  “Matt?” Her hands began to shake slightly.

  “Yeah?”

  She’d stopped massaging him and was gripping his shoulders, her forehead pressed against his neck as she prepared to tell him something only her parents, grandma and psychiatrists knew. She closed her eyes. “I cut myself.”

  36

  Matt reached behind him, clasping Katie’s wrist and tugging on her until she crawled around to the front of him and was straddling his lap. She dropped her face into the side of his neck, afraid of seeing disgust in his eyes.

  “Look at me, Hunter.” He curved his hand along her jaw and forced her head back until he could look in her eyes. “Do you still do it?”

  “No.” She released a shaky breath as she looked into his eyes, which were filled with concern only.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Because I’m afraid you aren’t going to like me anymore.” She began to bite her lower lip.

  He leaned in and kissed her, his lips brushing softly over hers. “I still like you,” he whispered against her mouth. He kissed her again, this kiss longer and deeper than the first as his tongue dipped into her mouth. Katie wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him back, her body melting into his.

  After a few minutes he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as he breathed in and out deeply. “Show me.”