Tristan followed her and stopped right behind her; she was certain she could feel the heat of his body against her back, and she took a step forward. His voice caressed her neck, her ears, making her cheeks warm.
“Drowning,” he murmured. “Do you remember? When you stood there with that look on your face, that look that made me want to… to… capture you, you said Isolde was drowning. The way the word flowed out of you made me feel like these paintings.” His voice dropped even lower, his words like cool water over her flushed skin. “But like I was the one drowning.”
She spun around and glared up at him. “Enough. Enough, Tristan. Okay? Stop, please.”
He was so close, she could see flecks of charcoal in his umber eyes. He stared down at her, hungry, potent. She put both hands up between them, stopping just short of touching his chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have come back. I need to go.”
Before she could slip around him, he grabbed both her wrists, and held her there, not letting her go. She tried to pull away, suddenly afraid. “Why do you always have to go? Why did you come back, only to run away again?” He brought one of her hands up and pressed a warm kiss into her palm. Her fingers relaxed against the curve of his cheek before she caught herself, and she jerked her hand away.
Skirting pedestals and sculptures, she made her way to the stairs, fleeing him on trembling legs. At the bottom, she slowed long enough to say goodbye to Janelle, then she hurried out the door to her car. This time, she had her keys out and ready, and she was locked inside before he stepped out of the gallery, her card from Suzi in his hands. It must have fallen from her purse when she pulled away to escape him. He walked toward her, and she hesitated, not sure whether to ignore him and pull out, or acknowledge him from the safety of her vehicle. Her indecision gave him the time he needed with his long stride. He stood just outside her window and waited.
When she rolled down the window, he smiled, a little sadly, a little teasingly. “SoNora Décor. I like it. Here you go.” He handed her the card, its envelope bearing her business name and address, giving him more information than she wanted him to have. “May I call you?”
“No, Tristan.” She couldn’t believe how proper he sounded over something so inappropriate. He’d seen her wedding band; she made no attempt to hide it.
“Well, may I hire you then?”
“Hire me? For what? You’re an artist. You don’t need me.”
“You're wrong there, Nora. I think I do need you.” He dropped his gaze to his feet and Nora rolled her eyes at the postured embarrassment.
“Well, so do my husband and children, Tristan. They need me, too.”
“Ah.” He stepped back, and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression closed. Then he spoke again, words that came out a little too smoothly, as though he’d used them before. “Maybe you’re going about this all wrong. Maybe this isn’t about who needs you, but about who you need.”
She clutched the steering wheel with both hands, holding on for dear life. His forwardness made her feel off balance and juvenile and… and so alive. As though he could read her thoughts, he spoke again, his voice smooth; sensitive.
“Who do you need, Nora?” Everything thrummed inside of her, a bundle of live wires. Finally, she opened her mouth and the words spilled out.
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I want, or who I want. I thought I came back here today because I wanted to see your Isolde, but now I don’t even know that.” She smiled bitter-sweetly and met his gaze. “Honestly, I don’t seem to know anything right now. Which means I need to go. Now.”
As she rolled up her window, she heard him say, “Come to my studio if you want to see Isolde.”
14
She still had some time before picking up the kids, so she headed back to the office. She desperately wanted to go home and crawl under the covers, but with Jake there, she couldn’t. ‘Why did you come back, only to run away again?’ Tristan asked, over and over in her head. Why? Why did she feel compelled to visit Paradise Lost and Isolde after leaving Renee’s company, her sordid tales burning in Nora’s ears?
Tristan. Why did he have this pull on her? Nora didn’t flirt and tease; she didn’t have time for it. Jake was the one in their marriage who couldn’t control himself, not her. She was the strong one…and yet, around Tristan, she felt vulnerable, exposed, and intrigued all at the same time.
The way she’d felt around Jake when they’d first met.
The way she hadn’t felt around Jake in a long time.
She pulled into her designated parking spot leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Get a grip, Nor,” she muttered. “You don’t need this right now.”
Who do you need, Nora? Tristan wouldn’t be silent.
Who did she need? That question was much more difficult to answer than it should be.
“I suppose I need You, God,” she whispered. “But You don’t seem to show up much anymore.” She shook her head and climbed out of the car, the sound of her closing door echoing loudly in the parking structure. She opened the door and slammed it again, simply for the satisfaction of the racket it made.
Just as she stepped through the front door of her office building, Jo came out of the restroom in the small lobby. She took one look at Nora’s face and snorted. “Oh dear. You look like you’ve been slapped by your mother. Let’s get you inside where you can unload a little.”
“Thanks, I think.” But Nora smiled, grateful for Jo’s tough girl exterior that harbored a kind heart. She flopped down on the client sofa in her showroom while Jo started a fresh pot of coffee in the little kitchenette adjacent to it. Laying her head back against the cushions behind her, she closed her eyes.
I need you. She heard his voice inside her head. Who do you need? She shivered as she remembered the way his fingers caressed the painting of her, as though he, too, imagined her body beneath his touch.
She opened her eyes abruptly and sat forward. “Stop it, Nora.”
Jo leaned against the open door of the kitchenette and studied her. “You still dying, honey?”
Nora sighed heavily. “Don’t tease me, Jo. I’m feeling pretty fragile today.”
“So what’s up? Jake? The kids?”
Nora groaned this time. “Tristan.”
Jo crossed the room and pulled up a chair so that she sat facing her. Her chopped blonde hair stuck out all over her head like wind-blown wheat, and Nora knew it required a lot of expensive hair products to stand at attention like that. “Who on earth is Tristan? As in Tristan and Isolde?”
Nora couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“I don’t think you’re dying, girlfriend. I think you’re just going crazy. What are you talking about?” Jo’s legs were crossed, and she began jostling the foot that dangled in the air. “You got something to tell me, Toots?”
Nora looked down at her watch. “I have almost an hour. How much time do you have?”
“Oh. I see. Well, let me lock my office first. You pour us some coffee.” Jo stood up and patted Nora on the head. “I’ll be right back. You need anything? A little something medicinal to put in your coffee?” Jo had a small liquor cabinet she kept stocked for special occasions. Nora laughed and reminded her that she had to pick up her kids.
“But go ahead if you want some. You might need it when you hear what I’ve been up to.”
“Up to, huh? This sounds yummy. I’ll be right back. Coffee,” she reminded Nora with a nod toward the kitchenette.
By the time Nora had finished her tale, Jo was frowning. “Nora, Nora. This is not good. You know how I feel about Jake, honey, but what you’re playing at isn’t the answer to that problem. You don’t take on another man while you still have one at home.”
“But I’m not taking him on, Jo. That’s why I’m so miserable.”
“Ah, but you are, Nora. And that’s why you’re so miserable.” Jo used Nora’s words against her. She put a
hand over her heart. “I know these things, honey. I’ve been around the block a few times, and I know these things. I can see it in your eyes. You’re trying to figure out how you can have your cake and eat it, too. Well, you can’t. It never works. That, I can guarantee you.” Jo clucked at her a few times, then took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving Nora’s face.
“I walked away, though,” Nora defended herself. “I drove away. I told him not to call.”
“But you went back to him once. What’s to keep you from going back again?”
“I didn’t go back to him. I went back to the studio and his sculpture. But I’m not going back; don’t worry.” Nora shook her head emphatically. “I just can’t.”
Jo rolled her eyes. “Mm-hm. And what’s to keep him from calling you? Or even coming here, now that he knows where you work?” She voiced the question that Nora had been afraid to put into words.
“I don’t know. I would hope that he’d have enough respect—”
Her friend cut her off. “Respect? Did he show respect when he tried to hit on a married lady?”
“He didn’t know I was married until today.”
Jo waved a hand at Nora’s ring finger and raised her eyebrows, obvious she wasn’t falling for the excuse
“He probably didn’t notice it that first time. He seemed surprised today when he saw it.”
“Was he wearing a ring the first time you two met?”
“No.” She had checked.
“Huh. You noticed, why wouldn’t he?” Jo was shaking her porcupine head back and forth repeatedly, and Nora wanted to reach over and grab her chin to hold it steady. “Stop kidding yourself, Nora. He noticed. He also noticed that you came back for him. He also noticed when you admitted that you think about him all the time. He also noticed—”
“Okay!” Nora interrupted. “I get it. He noticed. What was I saying before you interrupted me?”
“Respect, Nora. The man doesn’t respect your decision to be married.”
“Well maybe it’s because I don’t respect it either,” she said flippantly, defiantly. “You know, I think I hate you right now.”
“Good. That means I’m probably right, and you’re probably wrong.” Jo tipped her mug back, drinking down the last of its contents, then set it on the floor beside her chair. She stood up and came over to sit beside Nora on the sofa, putting an arm around her. “Besides all that respect stuff, honey, I’m wondering about your faith. Is this something you’re really going to be able to live with? Are you going to be able to show up in church on Sunday, and in your Bible classes on Wednesday, and talk about Jesus while you’re screwing some hunky artist across town all the other days of the week?”
“Jo!” Nora was appalled by how crude it all sounded.
“I’ve got a point, don’t I? This goes against everything you believe in. That’s why you’re still with Jake, right?” She paused and leaned forward, turning in order to look Nora in the eye. “So do you not believe in all that anymore?”
Unable to sit still any longer, Nora began pacing the floor. “I don’t know, Jo. I always thought I was so sure about my faith, about my beliefs. But lately I feel like I’ve been abandoned. You know I’ve been meeting with a counselor, right?”
“Vicky someone.”
“Yes. She has me praying for my husband and writing lists, things about Jake I’m thankful for. But I’m beginning to despair. For every one thing that I’m thankful, a million other things come to mind I want to change about him. It’s almost making things worse. And God? Well, I haven’t heard from Him in so long I don’t think I’d recognize Him if He walked up to me and slapped me.” She covered her heart with her hands and stopped pacing. “It’s like He’s turned His back on me. I can’t feel Him here anymore.” Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t cry.
Now Jo leaned back into the cushions behind her and closed her eyes for a few moments. When she finally opened them, she looked straight into Nora’s, and said, “You’ve changed, honey. Do you know that? You’re a wreck. You’ve lost weight, you’re jumpy, you’re just not you. It’s like you’re a little bit see through, I think. I’m not so sure God went anywhere, Toots. I think you’ve wandered away from Him.” She stood up, put both hands on Nora’s cheeks, and made her look at her up close.
“You listen here. You stay away from that place, you understand me? I want you to give me his card, and I want you to call me immediately if he shows up here. He is off limits because you are off limits, got it? I want the old Nora back, and you, my fine replica, simply won’t cut it. Now go fetch your children, and the four of you spend some quality family time together tonight, okay?”
Nora nodded mutely. Jo must be worried about her, to the point of encouraging her to spend time with Jake.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“That’s better.”
It helped to talk to Jo. It always did. She was so down-to-earth and real. Nora couldn’t help but compare her counsel to Vicky’s, and she wondered how Vicky might have advised her today. Pray. Pray. And pray some more. Nora was getting tired of praying. No, she thought to herself, I’m not tired of praying. I’m tired of asking for help and not getting any. I’m tired of being ignored by God. I’m tired of feeling like I’m sitting outside in the cold, knowing there’s a warm fire blazing inside somewhere, but no one remembered to let me in.
And I’m tired of pretending I’m thankful for Jake. I’m not.
Talking to Jo, however, had brought her up short. Even though she felt a little defensive and somewhat foolish, it had been good to hear the woman put things in such a blaring light. The least she could do was release Jake before she started pursuing someone else. And even that sounded selfish, and childish…and very, very Renee-ish.
Renee. She had so much to do this week in preparation for the Wine and Dine Gala. Renee wanted all new window treatments hung in the Country Club Garden Room, which was crazy enough in itself. But they would all come down as soon as the event was over, and Renee didn’t care what happened to them after that.
“We won’t ever use them again, you know. They’re like an evening gown for the windows. You can’t wear the same thing twice, right?” The theme was The French Garden in Winter, and Renee had Nora ordering a ridiculous amount of custom iron pieces for centerpieces, décor, and more. Her order for silk plants was the largest Nora had ever placed, but Renee wanted unique and high-end items; topiaries, and exotic ferns, all frosted with a delicate sparkle of artificial snow. It would be a great month financially for Nora when it was all over, but she would be working hard for every penny of it.
“So much for quality family time tonight,” she grumbled as she sat in the car waiting for Felix. She would have to go back to the office tonight. Maybe they could just go out for dinner; some place the kids would like. That might appease everyone, including her frazzled nerves.
15
Jake glanced up at the clock for what seemed the tenth time in the last half an hour. The laundry was done and even put away, and so were the dishes. His Blazer sparkled in the sun after its bath and waxing at the car wash, and the yard was raked into submission, the few leaves left on the sweet gum tree quivering on their branches, afraid to let go. His desk was organized, the paperwork in three piles; incoming, outgoing, and to file.
The incoming held one sheet of paper in it, a notice for renewing his Inspector’s license. He really wanted to talk it over with Nora, whether or not to continue in his line of work, but he knew what she’d ask him: What would he do if he wasn’t doing inspections?
He didn’t have an answer for that question, and until he did, he couldn’t talk to her.
Everything in his life seemed to be in limbo these days. He had little or no work, he didn’t spend much time with the kids, and being alone with Nora happened only between the hours of midnight and 6 a.m. He didn’t know how on earth she was surviving the pace she was setting. The holidays were almost upon them, and he knew Nora�
��s work load typically nearly doubled with the season’s events. He wondered how she would manage.
His phone rang and woke him out of his reverie. It was Nora. “Hey, Babe.”
“Jake. It’s me, Nora.”
He knew it was her. He didn’t call anyone else Babe.
“I’m just calling about dinner tonight and wondering if you’ll be home. Because I was thinking we might go out someplace fun for the kids. It’s been a long day, and it’d be nice not to have to cook. I thought it might be nice just to do something a little special with the whole family, just because. What do you think?”
It was the longest string of words he’d heard come out of her mouth in weeks. “I’m fine with that. Or I can cook tonight. You can come home and put your feet up, or soak in a hot bath.” He glanced around the house, glad now that his nervous energy had kept him busy making the place shine. She could come home to peace and order, and relax a little. Surely, she would like that. “Maybe we could rent a couple movies. We haven’t seen The Great Pumpkin yet this month. I’d even tolerate a chick flick if you’ll snuggle with me on the couch.”
He heard her intake of breath through the phone, and realized with a grimace that he’d just made some very misguided assumptions. She had no plans to take the evening off, and dinner out with the family was her token peace offering.
“I can’t, Jake. I mean, dinner and a short movie with the kids sounds fine, but after they go to bed, I need to head back to the office. Renee is in charge of her Country Club’s Wine and Dine Christmas Gala, and she’s just given me a to-do list that makes my head spin. I have to get things in the computer, and place my orders as soon as possible, or stuff won’t get here in time. Besides, you’ll just fall asleep anyway, and I’ll be left crying alone in my hot chocolate.” She was trying to make light of the situation, he knew, but it didn’t sit well with him.
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