Learning to Live Again (Corbin's Bend, Season Two Book 9)

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Learning to Live Again (Corbin's Bend, Season Two Book 9) Page 2

by Ruth Staunton


  Lainie’s head jerked up, and she gaped at him, white-faced with shock. “What are you saying? Are you leaving me?”

  The shock hit Grant so hard that all he could do was stare. “Of course not. Never.”

  “What then ?” Lainie demanded.

  “I’m saying I think we need to make some changes around here,” Grant told her.

  “Like what?” Lainie asked warily.

  Grant shifted a little closer. “Do you remember when we first got married, how we talked about having a marriage like my parents had?”

  “Yes,” Lainie said slowly, “but that was years ago. Life happened.”

  “It did,” he agreed, “and you were right to say that I left a lot of things to you. I’ve shirked a lot of responsibility that should have rightfully been mine, and it landed on your shoulders. I want to apologize for that.”

  Lainie looked stunned, but she brushed it off. “You were trying to do the right thing. Like you said, it’s not as if you were just blowing me off to go party or something.”

  “That doesn’t make it right,” Grant said. “I want to do better by you and the girls. I want to get back to the husband and father I should have been all along.”

  “What does that mean?” Lainie asked.

  “It means I want to step up and take responsibility,” he told her. “I want to be the head of household, just like we talked about before we got married.”

  Lainie drew back like a scalded cat. “Just like that? I’ve run this household for fifteen years and now all of a sudden you’ve decided you want to step up and be in charge. What the hell is that about? You’ve decided you’re not happy so now I’m not doing a good enough job. You think you can do better? Is that it? Just because you managed to get the girls to wash the dishes one time doesn’t mean you have a clue what it’s like around here on a daily basis.”

  “I know,” Grant admitted. “That’s my point. I’m not saying I want to be some kind of dictator. I’m telling you I want to help. I want to take a lot of the decision-making and the responsibility off your shoulders. Yes, there will be rules and consequences, but we’ll decide on those together. I’m not trying to bulldoze you; I’m trying to help you, like tonight, with the girls. Yes, I took over and I made a unilateral decision, but it was based on what I thought was best for everyone involved. They need to learn the responsibility, and you need a break. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Lainie studied her hands for a long moment before finally saying, “No, that wasn’t bad. I suppose I could get used to that.”

  “That’s all I’m really talking about,” Grant assured her. “I’m asking you to trust me to make decisions, and to follow through with consequences if those decisions are not followed. I meant what I said tonight. If they had bickered the slightest bit, I wouldn’t have hesitated to take their phones and iPods. If we do this, you are giving me permission to enforce the rules, not only with the girls but with you as well.”

  “How would you do that, with me I mean?” Lainie asked.

  Grant fixed her with a steady look, and she blushed, heat to rising steadily up her neck and over her cheekbones. “I think you know,” he told her. “If you remember our earlier conversations, then you may remember exactly what I’m talking about.” Her eyes went wide and she swallowed hard. He could see the muscles in her throat bobbing up and down compulsively. If such a thing were possible, she went even more red in the face. Oh yes, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

  Carefully, he caught her chin and made her look at him. Then, he leaned over and spoke directly in her ear, voice little more than a low rumble. “Disobey me and I will spank your little butt good, understood?” He leaned back and released her, feeling distinctly smug. Lainie was clearly flustered. She had yet to speak, but her eyes were around his marbles, and she continued to swallow convulsively as if trying to find her words. He’d gotten her attention all right.

  Finally, she seemed to gather herself. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a child.”

  “If you don’t act like one, you have nothing to worry about,” he said casually. “Look, if we try this and it doesn’t work, we can reevaluate. I don’t have the slightest interest in making you more unhappy. I just know that what we are doing isn’t working so I’m ready to try something different.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Lainie muttered. “You’re not the one getting your ass beat.”

  “No, I’m not,” Grant conceded, “but I am the one taking on all the decision-making and responsibility. For once, that won’t all be on you. All you will have to worry about is being sure that you communicate with me and follow whatever guidelines we set out.” The look of relief on Lainie’s face was palpable. She wanted this. He knew she did, if she would just let herself admit it. “Please,” he said quietly, “all I’m asking is to try.”

  Silence stretched heavy between them until Lainie heaved a huge sigh and said reluctantly, “Okay, fine, we can try it, but I reserve the right to stop if it doesn’t work.”

  “Of course,” Grant agreed, “but you can’t use that as a way to get out of a punishment. It’s only valid after the fact, if you still want to stop, and you’re going to have to convince me you really mean it. Otherwise, it would be too easy just to call a halt to everything every time you get mad or in trouble.” Grant was fairly sure they would never need this out, but if it made Lainie feel better for the time being, he was more than willing to let her have it with his own conditions, of course.

  “I guess that makes sense,” Lainie replied. “I can see how it would be pretty easy to want to say stop when things get heated, and that basically defeats the purpose.”

  Unable to help himself, Grant reached over and hugged her hard. This time, she hugged him back. Already some of the distance he had felt earlier had gone away. Clearly this one conversation wasn’t going to be a miracle cure, but it was a step in the right direction. He was as sure of that as he had ever been anything in his life.

  Lainie pulled back. “So, um, when do we start this?”

  “I thought we just did,” Grant said. “We can work on specific rules over the weekend.”

  “Okay, I guess,” Lainie said reluctantly. “Wait a minute. I thought you had to work security at the library this weekend.”

  “I’m quitting the library job,” Grant told her, “and the mall job too. I realized that while I had been working all the time I was neglecting my most important job – here at home. I’m going to cut out the side jobs and focus on here.”

  “What about the money?” Lainie protested. “Wasn’t that why you took those side jobs in the first place, because we needed the money?”

  “That’s true,” Grant replied, “but things have changed a lot since then. Neither of us are on rookie salaries anymore. We can get by just fine on what the two of us make with our full-time jobs. We’re mostly using the part-time money for savings and extras like vacations. We may have to cut out some vacations and activities, but we can manage. I’m tired of working all the time, and most of all, I’m tired of being away from my girls all the time – all three of you. I’m going to try to swap out my remaining shifts. There are a couple of younger guys at work who had been hinting around that they would like to make some extra money. I can probably work it out so that they can take over. If not, then I’ll put in my notice and work for two more weeks, but either way, my days of working all the time are done. It’s time I came home.”

  Lainie nodded and leaned over to kiss him gently on the lips. “It’ll be good to have you home. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” Grant murmured. He would’ve like to taken the kiss deeper, but Lainie pulled away.

  “I’ve got tests that have to be graded,” she said and for the first time in a long time, he could hear the reluctance in her voice.

  Grant nodded. Neither of them worked normal 9-to-5 jobs. They might be on duty from 8 to 4, but work continued regardless of whether or not they were currently on the clock. Pa
pers had to be graded. Lesson plans have to be written. Emergency calls came in at the drop of a hat, sometimes in the wee hours. She had never complained when he had to get up and go. He couldn’t very well complain when she had work to do either, however much he might’ve wished to shove those tests down the garbage disposal and get on with more pleasant business. “Two hours,” he said as she turned to leave.

  “What?” she asked, giving him a puzzled look.

  “You can work for two hours, and then you’re coming to bed,” he said placidly.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I’ve got to get these done. It takes as long as it takes.”

  “Tonight it takes no longer than two hours,” he countered. “Anything that isn’t done by then can wait until tomorrow. You just said earlier that your students don’t care enough to do well on the test, and if that’s the case, they are certainly not going to care about having to wait another day to get back a dismal grade. Two hours.”

  “But I always hand tests back the following day,” she protested.

  “Is that a school rule?” he asked.

  “Well, no,” Lainie stammered, “but...”

  “If it’s not a school rule, it can wait,” Grant insisted. “It’s more important that you get to sleep at a decent hour.”

  “I don’t need a bedtime,” Lainie huffed. “I’ve been managing for years.”

  Grant raised his eyebrows. “I thought you just agreed to try letting me be in charge. Did you mean that or not?”

  Lainie blew out an exasperated breath. “Of course I did, but –”

  “Then you had better get a move on,” Grant broke in. “You’re down to an hour and 45 minutes.”

  The glare Lainie shot him could have shattered glass, but she scurried away. A moment later he heard her gathering her things and settling at the dining room table.

  He made his way into their bedroom. He may have talked to Lainie into trying domestic discipline and letting him be head of household, but that didn’t mean he had a clue of how to actually go about it. Theory was quite different than practice. He needed to do some research. Glancing at the phone on the bedside table, he was overcome with a familiar biting longing to pick up the phone and dial his dad. Dad would have known exactly what to do.

  Since he no longer had that option, he went to the Internet, powering up the computer that lived on a desk in the corner of the bedroom. To his great surprise, he found a veritable cornucopia of information. Apparently, domestic discipline was more common than he had ever imagined it might be. He clicked through several documents and websites, reading as he went. As a police officer, Grant was long used to taking in information, making connections, and drawing conclusions. What he found there though inevitably lead to more questions than answers. How in the world was he ever supposed to figure out how to do this? There seemed to be as many different variations to the lifestyle as there were people involved in it. How was he to know which way was the right one? He gave thought to posting some of these questions on one of the many discussion boards, but he was reluctant to reach out to strangers. He knew as well as anyone that anonymity on the Internet was little more than an illusion. What if somehow his post managed to get traced back to him? He was a cop. That’s all he needed was for somebody to decide he was abusing his wife. However untrue it might be, it would likely cost him his job. That was too big a chance to take. Just when he was about to give the research up as a lost cause, he ran across the website for the Corbin’s Bend housing community near Denver, Colorado and stopped dead. Could it possibly be true, an entire community of people who practiced exactly the kind of lifestyle he wanted to get back to? The more he read, the more intrigued he became. What if they didn’t have to figure this out alone? What would it be like to live in a community where they could talk about and explore things openly? It seemed too good to be true.

  It would be a huge change. All four of them had lived in North Carolina their entire lives, but, in reality, there wasn’t a great deal holding them here anymore. His mom had retired to Florida six years ago and was, by all accounts, thoroughly enjoying her life in a retirement community there. Lainie had no real family to speak of, and the good thing about both of their jobs was that they were fairly easily transferable. No matter where you went, communities needed police officers and teachers. There was a fairly lengthy approval process and the buy in to the community wasn’t cheap, but if they sold their house here and handled most of moving themselves, they could swing it.

  Grant clicked the link and printed off the application packet, vibrating with excitement. A new start in Colorado was just what they all needed. This was going to be just the right thing for their family. He just knew it.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lainie Taylor knelt in a sea of boxes covering her new living room and wondered, not for the first time, just what in the world she’d gotten herself into. She, her husband, and two teenage daughters had spent the past four days driving across the country from North Carolina to Colorado, where her husband was convinced their future lay. Lainie herself wasn’t quite so certain about that, although she supposed it was a little too late to be doubting herself now. There wasn’t anything left to go back to in North Carolina. They’d sold their house, and both she and Grant had quit their jobs. They’d both taken jobs here in Colorado, he as a campus police officer, and she as a middle school teacher. Whatever doubts she might have, for the foreseeable future, her future, and her family’s future, was here.

  “Lainie! Can you come here please?” Grant called, breaking her out of her thoughts.

  She stood, wiping her hands reflexively on the sides of her shorts, and moved in the direction of her husband’s voice. She found him, along with Matt Renton, who was Grant’s mentor and had met them when they got here late last night, and two other men she vaguely remembered meeting when they had flown out here in March, on spring break, to meet with the housing board and tour the property, manhandling Kathleen’s dresser in the door. She thought she remembered that the younger blond guy – what was his name? Brent, Trent, something like that – was in charge. He certainly looked like he was in charge, but then, most of the men around here did. Never in her life had she ever seen so many alpha males in one place. Grant was no slouch himself. He was a career police officer and self-defense instructor, not exactly a wimp, but next to these guys, he seemed positively timid.

  “Where does this go?” Grant asked.

  Seriously? He called her out here to ask her that. That dresser had been in Kathleen’s room for the last three years and Grant didn’t recognize it. Then again, with the way he had been working back home, she doubted he had been in Kathleen’s room more than a dozen times in that same span of years. Still, she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. Honestly, how could he seriously believe he was going to be head of the household when he barely knew what went on in the household? “That’s Kathleen’s dresser,” she replied. “Her room is the one to the right at the top of the stairs.”

  Grant, Matt, and the younger blond guy moved with alacrity in the direction she had indicated. The fourth man had no choice but to move along with them, but that didn’t stop him from shooting her a sharp and thoroughly disapproving look as he did.

  Lainie should have been offended. He was a perfect stranger and had no right approving or disapproving of anything she might do or say, but instead, she found herself wincing internally. Great, if sighs weren’t allowed around here, she was in deep trouble. She knew everyone in the community practiced some form of spanking, of course. That was the whole thing the community of Corbin’s Bend was structured around, and it had been the thing that had drawn Grant to the community in the first place. They had never really practiced domestic discipline themselves, but Grant had grown up with it. Both his parents and his grandparents had practiced it, but it had been somewhat normal in those days. They had talked about it early on. Lainie had never been too sure of it, but she had understood that Grant expected their relationship to run that way
. At the time, she had been young and in love, and frankly, if Grant had expected her to stand on her head on the street corner and spin around five times on Fridays, she would have probably done it. They had never gotten around to working out any particulars though. Life and kids had gotten in the way Their world had spun into a frenzied rat race of chaos with both of them working all the time and her doing the best she could to raise the girls and Grant growing increasingly busy and increasingly distant with multiple jobs, and they had never managed to climb out at any point during the intervening fifteen years.

  Now, Grant was certain that going back to the traditional structure he had grown up with was going to save them. That’s why he had packed them all up and moved them here, to get them out of the fast-paced, modern culture they had been living in and back to a traditional community that embraced the kind of values he had grown up with.

  Lainie was far less convinced. Grant seemed to think that Corbin’s Bend was some sort of modern day Mayberry and that practicing domestic discipline was somehow going to evaporate the distance that had been growing steadily for the last decade or more of their marriage. Lainie didn’t believe in miracle cures. She had spent most of her childhood watching her mother chase one thing after another. If she could have just gotten a better job, they would have been able to pay the rent and not have had to run out of yet another trailer park or apartment complex in the middle of the night. If she could have just found the right man – one that would stick around, one that had a job, one that didn’t smoke up all his and her paycheck in a haze of weed—he’d take them both out of here, and they’d live happier every after. It had never happened. The last time she had seen her mother five years ago, her mama had been still living in that same old trailer park and had been marrying yet another – her fourth or fifth by Lainie’s recollection – pothead husband in a courthouse ceremony.

 

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