Love in a Fix

by Leah Atwood

  His jaw dropped from the left-field accusation. “He flat out disobeyed, was told the consequences and still didn’t listen. All I did was follow through with the consequences.”

  “But he was so excited about spending the morning with you. I hated seeing him that upset.”

  “What would you have had me do?” He clasped the edge of her shoulders. “Children need discipline. Josh is a great kid, but he needs to be corrected when he’s wrong. We discussed discipline and punishment and taking away special activities was something we both agreed on.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Lyndsey. I’m not going to apologize for doing the right thing.” Frustration got the better of him and he ignored the voice that told him to quit talking. “Maybe if you’d been more firm to begin with…”

  “So now it’s all my fault?” Her voice pitched an octave.

  “That’s not what I said.” He backed away and shut his eyes, trying to find his calm. Every couple was bound to have an argument, but he’d never thought his first one with Lyndsey would go like this. He was still figuratively scratching his head, trying to figure out what had happened.

  “You’re not his parent, Shep. You weren’t there after Mark died to hear Josh cry every single night for a month, calling for his daddy.” She splayed her palm over her chest. “It’s torture. Absolute torture, so yes, maybe I spoil him a little, but nothing could ever make up for losing his father.”

  He blinked and put a hand to his stomach that hurt with the same intensity it would have had Lyndsey physically punched him. That would have been preferable to the pain inflicted by what she’d said. It took a minute until he was able to respond. “I’m sorry that Mark died. He was my best friend and a good man. A good father who loved his son. True, Josh isn’t my biological child and I’m sorry he lost his father at a young age, but I can’t change those facts. I do, however, love him as though my own blood ran through him. I can’t be Mark. Not for you, not for Josh. I can only be me who loves both of you and would give you the moon if I could, but apparently that’s not enough.”

  Lyndsey stood shell-shocked, a hand covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. None of that came out right.”

  “Or maybe it did.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “No. I’m not myself lately, and my brain doesn’t always talk to my mouth.” She shook her head emphatically, pressed a palm against his heart. A tear dropped to her cheek. “I don’t want you to be a replica of Mark. I love you and I love that you’ve accepted Josh as your own. Seeing him cry himself to sleep resurrected bad memories. Emotion got the better of me then I took it out on you, and for that I am truly sorry.”

  Her apology and explanation hit his ears, but it didn’t ease the ache in his chest. “We’re both tired. Can we table this for the night and finish the conversation tomorrow?”

  “Okay.” Her voice stumbled on the single word and her hand shook against him.

  “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.” She lowered her arm, but didn’t leave.

  Sadness arced between them, and he wanted to reach out, pull her into an embrace and make things right between them. Except four words haunted him. You’re not his parent.

  Slinging hurtful words during an argument wasn’t uncommon, even if it was wrong. Most of the time the person didn’t mean them, yet at the root, there usually existed a modicum of truth, and that was what hurt. He considered Josh his son in every way. He’d thought Lyndsey did as well, but was he wrong? Did she think that he was trying to replace Mark?

  There’d be a period of adjustment, and he knew that going into the marriage. Not every day could be perfect, but they’d had a good run. Even through the stomach bug, they’d stayed upbeat. The honeymoon’s over, that’s for sure. The end came so unexpectedly, he wasn’t equipped to handle it immediately.

  He loved Lyndsey. Their relationship would survive this and one day they’d look back at the first small blip of their marriage and laugh, but not today. He rarely got mad or upset, but when he did, it took time to recover, rid himself of that void in his heart.

  After a minute of silence, Lyndsey turned on a heel and went upstairs. Uncertain what to do next, he drew a long breath. He couldn’t go to bed and lie beside her, not while he still harbored anger.

  With his options limited, he plopped on the couch and grabbed the remote. Perhaps a mindless television show would distract him enough to calm his emotions. He flipped through the channels, ultimately settling on a civil war documentary.

  After the first commercial he blinked his eyes in an effort to stay awake. His lids grew heavy, weighed down with exhaustion wrought from the fight with Lyndsey. He couldn’t keep them open and darkness set in.

  ***

  A poke in his ribs jolted Shep from a deep sleep. Bright light burned his eyes, and he squinted until his pupils adjusted. He glanced to his left, searching for the source of pain in his side.

  Josh was curled beside him, staring at him with big green eyes. “Good morning, Daddy.”

  Shep stole a glance at his watch. 7:33. He’d slept late, and on the couch at that. A blanket that hadn’t been there when he’d fallen asleep covered his legs.

  “Good morning.” He put an arm around Josh and shifted him into a position that didn’t dig into his ribs.

  “Are you still mad at me?” The corners of Josh’s mouth turned down.

  Compassion squeezed Shep’s chest. “Not at all. I was never mad at you, son, but I want you to understand that you have to obey Mommy and Daddy.”

  “Does that mean we can still go bowling?” Josh sat up straight with hope written on his face.

  “I’m afraid not. There are still consequences for your actions and because you didn’t listen last night that means you miss out on bowling today.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll tell you what.” A compromise came to mind. “If you can pick up all the toys in your room this morning, you can come with me to the hardware store and we’ll stop at the park on the way home if it’s not too cold.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Josh threw tiny arms around Shep’s neck and gave him a hug. “I’m gonna do it right now.” He let go and ran up the stairs.

  Rolling his neck, Shep attempted to loosen his stiff muscles. The night’s sleep on the sofa cramped his muscles from head to toe. He’d fallen asleep without consciously thinking about the argument, but judging by his unsettled feelings, he’d thought of it plenty while sleeping.

  “I heard what you told Josh.” Lyndsey’s voice drew his attention across the room. She stood against the doorjamb, gripping the belt of her robe. “Thank you for taking him to the park later.”

  “It was never about spending time with him.” He propped his elbows on his knees and looked down.

  “I know.” Her light footsteps approached him, and she pointed to the empty spot beside him. “Can I sit?”

  He sat up and shrugged. “Sure.”

  “You’re still upset, aren’t you?”

  “We were so happy,” he said, indirectly answering her question. “Then bam, we were fighting. Tell me what I did wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her hand reached for him, but she withdrew, as though afraid he’d turn her away. “You have been the ideal husband and father. If I could go back and rephrase my words in a way that didn’t hurt you, I would.”

  They’d lost something between them last night. He didn’t know where to find it, but he also didn’t want the strife in his marriage. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on and forget what happened.”

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead and stood, left the room before she had a chance to read his eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The rigid plastic chair produced a squeak just loud enough to elicit a glance from the only other patient in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. The woman smiled, then continued reading her magazine.

  While Lyndsey waited her turn to check out and settle her bi
ll, she thought about what the doctor had said. If it was true, what would Shep think? A strain still pulled their relationship a week after their argument.

  Shep wouldn’t admit it, continually told her they were fine, and he wasn’t upset, but his actions spoke volumes. Every morning this week, he’d left before she was out of bed. She’d confronted him yesterday, but he’d explained it away by a heavy workload. In the evenings, when he had previously sat by her on the couch, he played with Josh instead. They built forts out of blankets and castles out of the blocks. How was she supposed to question that? Hey, stop playing with our son and pay attention to me? Then came the nights. He never reached for her—hadn’t touched her since their argument except for brief kisses on the cheek when he came home in the evenings.

  Even when they talked, the words didn’t flow. Their conversations were robotic, unnatural, and stiff. A typical night after dinner may as well have been a game of how many ways could they ask ‘how was your day’ which was more painful than hours of silence.

  If she could only find a way to make him understand it was a gross miscommunication. She took full responsibility for getting upset—she was wrong to question him for disciplining Josh in an appropriate manner—and she knew how personally he’d taken it when she told him he wasn’t Josh’s parent. She’d never—never—meant to suggest that he was less of a dad because he was the stepfather and not there for Josh’s entire life. Unfortunately for both of them, she’d not chosen her words wisely.

  Still, her own frustration with Shep grew, driven by a need to correct the broken line of their relationship. What else could she do but apologize and show him five times over how much she loved and appreciated him. He’d always been a reasonable man, and his response told her she’d wounded him deeply, which made her feel that much worse.

  A loud sigh slipped from her, provoking another glance from the woman four chairs down. All she could do was pray for the situation.

  The receptionist, Erin, slid open the glass window. “Mrs. Patterson.”

  Lyndsey slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and withdrew her wallet as she walked.

  Erin handed her a clipboard with two papers stapled together. “Here’s a summary of your visit today, and you should receive a call by tomorrow night with your results.”

  “Thank you.” She removed the papers and gave back the clipboard. “What do I owe?”

  “You don’t have any payment due today, other than your copay, which we took care of when you arrived. Your insurance covers the tests we ran, but if anything comes back, we’ll send you a bill in the mail.”

  “That’s a nice surprise.”

  Erin laughed. “Patients are always happy when we tell them no money is due. Have a good day, Mrs. Patterson.”

  “You too.”

  The rest of the day belonged to her. Because of the great variation in appointment lengths—they could run anywhere from half hour, a rarity, to three hours, depending on the number of patients ahead of her and how in-depth the visits—she’d kept the day free. Today the visit, from time out and back into her car, lasted forty-five minutes, a number which pleased her.

  She could pick up Josh early, but the preschool was hosting a special petting zoo event in the afternoon, and he’d be disappointed if he missed the fun. She could go to the salon and get her hair done. Mrs. Tisdale gave her a gift card for Christmas and she’d not had the opportunity to use it until now.

  The idea grew on her. When was the last time she’d gone to a salon? Probably not since before she married Mark years ago. A little pampering would be good for her, get her mind off her problems with Shep and the results of the bloodwork.

  As she drove across town, she thought of Valentine’s Day. She hadn’t bought a present for Shep yet, didn’t have any idea what to get him. Would they celebrate the romantic holiday or would Shep still be upset? He had until Saturday, two days away. What if he had planned something and went through the holiday acting as he had been? In that case, she’d rather not celebrate at all.

  When she pulled into the parking lot of the salon, she changed her thought pattern. For the next two hours, she’d indulge and enjoy girl time.

  A woman who looked the same age as her stood at the front desk. She had her hair styled in an inverted bob, blonde on top and a rich brown on the bottom. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, it’s a spur of the moment decision.”

  “What services do you need today?”

  “Color, cut, and style.”

  “You’re in luck. Cassie’s next appointment cancelled fifteen minutes ago.” The woman smiled, showing a perfect line of sparkling white teeth. “Have a seat and she’ll be with you shortly. There are magazines on the table if you need ideas. Can I get you a bottle of water?”

  “No thanks.”

  She sat in a plush chair of supple leather that formed to her—a one-eighty turnaround for the uncomfortable seats at the doctor. The entire atmosphere was different as was to be expected. Whereas the doctor’s office had a sterile, medical tone with posters advertising certain drugs and boasting few items of décor, the salon had a chic, welcoming air.

  Three modern shelving units held hair products and cardboard signage. Multiple plants, including three that reminded Lyndsey of Bonsai trees, sat in art nouveau pots through the salon.

  “Lyndsey?” A young woman, twenty if a day, came from the back area, her hair pulled into a basic ponytail.

  “That’s me.” She set down the magazine she hadn’t had time to open and stood.

  “I’m Cassie, your stylist today. Follow me and we’ll get started.”

  Ten booths, five on each side, filled the rear space of the business, and eight of them were occupied. Cassie’s station was the third in a row, right in the center.

  Lyndsey lowered herself into the beauty chair. Cassie spun her around until she faced the mirror. Frowning, she noticed the circles under her eyes, even after applying foundation that morning. Her hair was limp, the color dull. The entire reflection alarmed her. “Time for a change.”

  Cassie laughed. “Famous last words of my clients. Renee said we’re doing a color, cut and style. What did you have in mind?”

  “Anything but the mom style I’ve had for years.” I want to wow my husband, bring him back to me. Like a new hairstyle would do that, but couldn’t a girl hope?

  “Do you want highlights or all-over color?”

  “Highlights. What’s your professional opinion?”

  Running her hands through Lyndsey’s hair, Cassie’s faced scrunched, smiled, frowned, and contorted. “I’d like to do blonde highlights all over, and add cinnamon lowlights on the bottom.” She pulled a book from the drawer and pointed to two samples. “These are the shades I had in mind.”

  “I’ll trust your expertise.”

  “Give me a few minutes to mix the colors and I’ll be right back.” Cassie grabbed the color book and disappeared into another room.

  Lyndsey pulled her purse to her stomach. Not again. The smell of chemicals nauseated her. She took a deep breath, then focused on the conversation around her as a distraction.

  The stylist beside Lyndsey chatted to her client and anyone who would listen. “Jimmy’s taking me away next weekend.”

  “How sweet. Is it a special occasion?” The client lowered the book in her hand.

  “Our first anniversary.”

  “Congratulations. Where are you going?” The lady sitting in booth five chimed in to the conversation.

  “Quilted Pines.”

  Memories of her own special weekend shared with Shep at Quilted Pines surfaced. Lyndsey’s heart lurched. So did her stomach. Maybe she should leave before Cassie started the foils and it was too late.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” The stylist to her right in booth two gave her a concerned appraisal. “You got real pale all of a sudden.”

  “I’m not feeling so good.” She jumped up. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  Several people pointe
d in the same direction, and Lyndsey sprinted, relieved to find the restroom empty. Her muscles convulsed, trying to expel contents from an empty stomach. An eternity passed before she was confident the bout was over. She rinsed her mouth with cold water from the sink and splashed a handful on her face.

  To her disappointment, she knew she couldn’t stay. She’d have to come back another day when the nausea was gone for good. Embarrassed, she returned to the work area, receiving sympathetic looks from the ladies.

  Cassie stood by the chair.

  “I can’t stay.” She swallowed, assaulted again by the offensive scents. When she saw the mixed colors, she felt even worse. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you worry about it.” Cassie gave her a sideways hug. “The ladies told me what happened.”

  “I’ll pay for the cost of mixing the colors.”

  “Absolutely not. Life happens, and you need to take care of yourself.” Offering a sympathetic smile, Cassie grabbed a business card. “When you get to feeling better, come see me. My hours are on the card, and you can call or go online to schedule an appointment.”

  “Thank you.” Lyndsey grabbed the card and slid it into her wallet before pulling out several bills. She placed them into Cassie’s hand. “Take these for your time, if nothing else.”

  The younger girl tried to refuse, but reluctantly shoved the bills into her tip jar. “Feel better Lyndsey, and thank you.”

  Lyndsey left and sat in her car for ten minutes before heading home. After the incident inside the salon, she wasn’t risking going anywhere else, except picking up Josh. Until then, she’d go home and take a nap

  A much needed, much anticipated nap.

  ***

  “When will Daddy be home?” Josh lay in bed with the covers pulled to his chin.

  “Soon.” She sat on the edge of his bed after listening to his prayers.

  “Can I stay awake until then? I want to see him.”

  “It’s already past your bedtime. You need to go to sleep.” Bending over, she swept the hair from his forehead and gave him a kiss.

  “Will you read me another story?”