His Good Girl

by Dinah McLeod

  "Fine," he said with a shrug, his body language telling me that it had been anything but. "Just… it seems she wants to stay here for a few days."

  "Stay here?" I echoed, just barely keeping the panic out of my voice. "What do your parents think about that?"

  "Apparently they're having a bit of trouble with her at the moment."

  Imagine that, I thought wryly.

  "They seem to think that some time here will do her some good," he went on.

  "You spoke to them already?"

  "Yeah, I went ahead and called them after talking to Amber."

  "I see." I took a deep breath before asking the next question, even though I was sure I already knew the answer. "And what did you tell her?"

  "I told her she could be here for two, three days, max. Is that okay?"

  Nice of you to ask, I wanted to say, but didn't because I didn't want to fight anymore. Well, that, and because he looked so damn cute running his fingers through his hair. "Sure."

  "Great. Thanks, Cara, you're the best."

  "No problem. And, you know… actions speak louder than words." I gave him the sultry bedroom eyes I knew he loved and patted the space beside me.

  "Huh? Oh, sorry, honey, but I promised Amber I'd watch the new episode of NCIS with her. It's going to be on any minute, otherwise…"

  What? Here I was, ready and willing, his for the taking, and he wanted to watch television?

  "It's just, she's my little sister, and if I'm going to figure out what's going on back home and talk some sense into her…"

  "Sure." It took all the willpower I had left to smile. It was so tight I felt like my face might freeze with the expression, but Kevin was already turning to leave.

  "I'll make it up to you. I promise," he said.

  "Yep," I muttered, but he was already shutting the door behind him, leaving me talking to an empty room. What the hell had just happened? Had I really been passed by for a sixteen-year-old? Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them back. I wasn't going to cry, not now, not over this.

  Without thinking, I reached for the phone and my fingers did all the work. The phone rang once, twice, before I heard a familiar, scratchy voice on the other end.

  "Hello."

  "Hey, Mom."

  "Cara. Nice of you to finally call," she said.

  "Sorry, Mom. I've been busy."

  "I'm sure you have been, what with playin' house and all."

  I could hear her puffing on a cigarette. "I'm not playing house, Mama. I'm his wife, it's not some game."

  "Sure, darlin'. That's why you're calling me at nine o'clock at night instead of bein' with your hubby."

  "That has nothing to do with—"

  "Get down to it, will ya, Sugs?" she interrupted me. "I've got a bridge game in half an hour. What's he done? Or, what have you, for that matter?"

  I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to regain control of my rapidly fraying temper. "You know what? Never mind, forget I called."

  "Aw, c'mon, Cara, I—"

  But before she could finish I was already hanging up the phone, and there was no escaping the tears this time.

  ***

  "Good morning!"

  Hearing Amber's falsely cheery voice first thing in the morning was like an air horn going off next to your ear when you have a hangover. I could only glare and grunt at her, but she smiled back as though nothing was amiss. As though it was perfectly normal for her to be sitting at my breakfast bar and eating the eggs and bacon my husband had served her.

  "Morning, babe."

  "Good morning." I walked over to Kevin, wrapped my arms around him and tilted my head back for a kiss. When his lips touched mine, my hand slid up his back and my fingers twined in his hair as I pulled him in for a deeper lip-lock than our usual morning peck. So there, my smug smile told his sister. "I missed you last night," I purred in his ear before pulling away.

  "It's nice to be missed," he said, his voice husky as he handed me a plate of bacon and eggs.

  "Mmm. Smells delicious," I said.

  "Ack! Get a room already!" Amber groaned.

  "I'd be more than happy to, but since somebody barged in on us—"

  "Cara."

  I knew better than to finish my sentence when I heard the warning in Kevin's voice. I sat down instead and began to concentrate on my breakfast.

  "Coffee?" he asked.

  "Yes, please."

  "Oh, are you sure you should?" Amber asked, her voice sickly-sweet with false concern.

  "Why shouldn't she?"

  "Just, you know, women who are trying to have a baby should avoid caffeine."

  I glared daggers at her while she batted her eyelashes. Kevin didn't seem to notice the exchange between the two of us—in fact, he seemed mystified by the whole thing.

  "We're not trying to have a baby," he said.

  "Really? That's funny, I thought—"

  "Forget the coffee," I interrupted as I stood up. "I've got to get going."

  "Are you sure? You just sat down. You haven't even finished your breakfast."

  "I'm not as hungry as I thought." I pushed my plate back toward him and left the room, ignoring the feeling of Amber's gloating eyes on my back.

  She'll be gone in a few days, I told myself as I got dressed. I just had to grit my teeth and bear it until then, no matter how insufferable she was. It was going to be hard, but I could do it. I dealt with difficult people every day of my life—it was part of my job. If only I'd built up some sort of immunity to it by now.

  By the time I got to work, I'd managed to cool down somewhat. I tried to keep my mind off the entire situation, which would have been easier if there weren't babies everywhere I looked. Every time I saw a cute, infant face or heard their adorable cries it only reminded me of my own longing, and how Amber had been throwing it in my face.

  To add to it, my patient Shelby was being released, and as I saw her being wheeled down the hall, I realized how much I was going to miss her.

  "You should have a baby," she told me, her face glowing with new-mother love. "I can tell you want one."

  So much, I thought as I looked at the adorable baby girl she held in her arms. "Ah, well…" I began, "Kevin isn't quite ready… that is, I don't know if—" Just then, my cellphone began to vibrate in my pocket. A quick check showed me that my husband's name was flashing on the screen. "Speak of the devil. Excuse me," I told Shelby with an apologetic smile before I turned away. "Hello?"

  "Hey, honey. I have to get going to work in a moment. Are you going to be home soon?"

  "No, I'll be working late again."

  "Can't you get off early? I hate to leave Amber here by herself."

  I felt like telling him that I hadn't been the one who had invited her to stay, that I certainly didn't care to babysit her, that I'd gotten off early just the day before, which had been ruined by her arrival. So many replies ran through my mind, but I knew that none of them were appropriate, particularly given my current location, so I chose my words carefully. "I can try, but I doubt it. Can you go into work late?"

  "You know I can't," he replied, his voice becoming brisk. "I'm the head chef."

  And what did he think I did, flip burgers? "I understand that. You know, I've got work too. She's sixteen, Kevin, don't you think she'll be okay alone?"

  "It's not about whether or not she'll be okay, I just don't want her to have to do it. She's our guest."

  Your guest, you mean. "I'm sorry. If I'd had some advance notice, maybe—"

  "Well, thanks anyway. I'd better go."

  "Listen, maybe I can work something out; switch shifts, or—"

  "No, don't worry about it."

  My frustration mounted at the irritation in his voice. "Well, why don't I—"

  "Cara, I've got to go."

  "Okay. Goodbye." When I'd hung up, I took a moment to compose myself. I couldn't believe he'd be upset with me for not being able to change my schedule. He knew my work was important. When I turned back around
I realized that Shelby was still behind me. I'd nearly forgotten she was there.

  "Hey, are you all right?"

  I smiled at the concern in her voice. It was nice having someone ask, nice to think that someone cared. It almost made me want to confide in her—she was so easy to talk to. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just…" I took a deep breath and shook my head as I exhaled. "Never mind. I'll be fine."

  Just then, Shelby's husband Dean walked up and asked if they were ready to go. "We're ready, aren't we, Christina?" Shelby cooed to her baby.

  "Aren't you, Lauren?" Dean returned mimicking her coo.

  "We're still trying to decide what to call her," Shelby informed me, rolling her eyes at her husband, who chuckled.

  I listened to the banter between them and couldn't help tearing up. This was what I wanted for me and Kevin—the easy dialogue that came from a deep, close connection. Once upon a time, I'd thought that that was exactly what we had, but now I had to wonder.

  "Listen," Shelby said as she turned back to me. "I appreciate all you've done for me, Cara. I've enjoyed getting to know you, and I want to get together soon, okay? You could come help me with the baby."

  I took the piece of paper she slipped across the counter and gave her a watery smile. "Thanks, Mrs. D."

  "Shelby," she replied.

  "We've got to go now," Dean spoke up. "Goodbye, Cara. Thanks for everything."

  "It was my pleasure, Mr. Davies," I replied. As I watched him wheel her out of the hospital the pang returned, fiercer than ever. I had to do something about what was going on with me and Kevin—the question was, what?

  Chapter Eight

  "She looks so big already," I lamented as I cradled Christina, reverently touching her tiny fingers as they grasped my own.

  "I know," Shelby sighed. She'd come in with bags under her eyes, but a smile that came straight from the heart. "It's crazy how fast it happens. If she actually ever lets me sleep I'm afraid I'll miss something."

  "How does Dean like being a father again?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off the baby.

  "Are you kidding me? He loves it. She's got him wrapped around his finger already, and she's not even three weeks old!"

  "And Morgan? How's he taking the role of a big brother?"

  "Surprisingly well. He's even offered to babysit so his dad and I can go out. Of course, that might have something to do with impressing the new girlfriend, but if the offer is still good in a few weeks, I'll take it!"

  I giggled along with her, enjoying having the house to myself—for once—so I could enjoy her company.

  "And how are you and Kevin?"

  Her tone was carefully neutral, but I knew she was remembering the terse conversation she'd overheard between us just a few weeks ago. "We're… we're making it," I said.

  "It's none of my business, and if you don't want to talk about it, I understand, but… are you two doing all right? Marriage is tough, you know. No one ever says that, but it is, and the first year is always the hardest."

  "Really?" I asked in surprise.

  "Oh, yes. You're still getting to know each other and getting used to living together. That can be hard. Falling in love is easy, honey. Staying there takes work."

  I sighed heavily and nibbled my lower lip for a moment before replying. "Things have been… hard. His sister has been staying here…"

  "Ah," she said knowingly. "Adding another body always makes things interesting."

  "Tell me about it. It was just supposed to be for a couple of days, at first, which he didn't even discuss with me until he'd already told her he could stay, and now it looks like we're stuck with her, and I have no idea when she's going to go back—or if she is. At this rate, we might as well just consider adding a room onto the house!"

  "I see."

  I could feel my cheeks heat up. I hadn't realized how bitter I truly was about the situation until I'd started talking about it. Even though Shelby didn't sound judgmental, I couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

  "Does he know how you feel?" she asked.

  "He has to!" I burst out. "It's clear that I don't like having her here!" I flushed even hotter at the admission, but plunged ahead. "Sometimes I think she only stays to make me miserable!"

  "Have you told him?" she probed gently.

  "Well, maybe not in those exact words, but it's obvious!"

  "Oh, Cara." Shelby sighed, sounding like she was trying hard not to laugh. "It may be obvious to you, honey, but unless you tell him, he always has plausible deniability. And believe me, men will use that defense to the very end."

  "But he's not stupid!"

  "It's not about being stupid." This time, she did laugh. "They're just different than we are, that's all. Sometimes we think we're being clear, but they need to hear the words. Think about it this way; you know Kevin loves you, right? But you still like hearing the words. This is a very similar concept. Men have to be told how you feel in order to know what you want."

  "I guess," I muttered, mulling over what she was saying.

  "If you haven't told him how to take care of you, you can't blame him when he doesn't."

  Her gentle admonishment made me squirm, but before I could reply—or she could notice that I was avoiding it—Christina began to whimper, and I handed her back to her mother. I watched Shelby bounce and shush the baby until she quieted down, processing what she'd said all the while. "Can I ask you something?" I said at length.

  "Of course."

  "Well, the thing is, when you were at the hospital… uh, I couldn't help but notice…"

  "Out with it, Cara," she said and laughed.

  "Well, it's just, it seemed like Dean is a little… protective."

  "Yes, he is."

  "There was this one time… well, I walked in on the two of you, it seemed like you were having a pretty heated discussion…"

  "I remember," she replied, without any hesitation or embarrassment despite my own.

  "And… I don't know, just the way he talked to you, the way he looks at you…"

  "Go on."

  "It seemed like-like he's… in charge," I finally managed.

  "Yes," she replied, as though it was the most natural, normal thing in the world.

  I blinked in surprise. "And you're okay with that?"

  "I am. In fact, I like it. Our family runs more smoothly when he's the head of the household."

  "But… doesn't it make you feel like you're, I don't know, setting the women's lib movement back a few decades?"

  "No." Shelby laughed. "What happens between me and my husband is our business. Now, I don't mind people knowing that my husband is the head of our family—that was a decision we made, and I'm not ashamed of it."

  "Kevin… Kevin spanks me," I admitted, my head bowed, and my voice so low that I wasn't sure she could hear me.

  "I see."

  "Or, at least he did." The words came out in a rush. "But, the last time he tried, I fought with him and he just… gave up. Nothing has seemed the same since."

  "Have you told him that?"

  "No. I mean, I've tried, but—"

  "Not in so many words?" she guessed, her voice gentle.

  "Right. And now that his sister is here I don't feel like things are ever going to get back to normal."

  "Listen to me, Cara." The firmness in her voice prompted me to meet her eyes, however embarrassed I was by my admission. "If you don't like how things have been going, then do something about it."

  "But I've tried! With Amber here, it's been hard to get his attention."

  "I hate to tell you this, but that sounds like an excuse to me, honey. Don't go down that path, you need to take responsibility for this, or you'll both end up miserable. Let me ask you this; did you deserve that spanking?"

  "Yes," I admitted, looking away once more.

  "Well, then that means you made a mistake—and you'll make more, you both will—and you need to learn to own up to them. It sounds to me like that's the first step, followed by telling him exactly how you f
eel about this whole living situation. Respectfully, of course," she added.

  "Wow," I said after her words had sunk in. "How'd you get so good at this?"

  "Almost two decades of marriage." Shelby chuckled. "And just think, since you get to benefit from my marital wisdom, you'll only make half the mistakes I did."

  "I seriously doubt that!" Once she and I started laughing together, I realized that some of the tension I'd been feeling these last few days had begun to melt away. "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me, honey, you're the one who has to do the hard part," she said.

  "You know, I have this bottle of wine I've been dying to open. Can you drink?"

  "Well…" She looked down at her now sleeping daughter, then back at me. "I'm sure one glass won't hurt!"

  "Great. I'll go get the glasses."

  ***

  Kevin

  Normally, I called Cara when I was on my way home from work, but tonight I just wasn't feeling it. I was bone-tired from a hard day's work; the night shift had been absolutely insane, with tickets pouring in so fast that by the end of it I was surprised my head was still screwed on straight. At least, I thought it was. Add to that the fact I was emotionally drained as well, and that pretty much summed up how I'd been feeling lately; like an empty shell with nothing left to give.

  Things had been hard at home. It seemed as though every time I talked to Amber, all she did was complain about Cara. And, as for my wife, she had been withdrawing bit by bit lately, and I felt like a helpless bystander. I could see it happening, but felt powerless to stop it. So I left my phone on the dash and drove home with nothing but the radio to drown out my thoughts.

  Unfortunately for me, they were so loud that they couldn't be ignored. I felt like a failure. And why shouldn't I? I knew my wife wasn't happy, but I didn't have the first clue what I should do about it. I kept meaning to talk to her about it, but between work and Amber's sudden interest in spending time with me, it was hard. It didn't help that Cara seemed less than interested in talking to me these days.

  When I pulled into the driveway, I spent a few moments looking at the house before finally working up the strength to walk inside. To my surprise, the lights were out. I knew that Cara should be home by now, and Amber rarely seemed to leave.