Summer Breeze

by Catherine Palmer

  The rest of the week, they barely spoke each morning, and dinners were taken up with the twins’ usual banter. Miranda’s quick trip to St. Louis had also impacted mealtimes. Upon her return, Derek’s mother felt compelled to describe Cody’s departure on the bus, her trouble with the moving and storage company, and her efforts to select a real estate agent and put her house on the market. Kim hardly said a word except to respond to questions.

  That Friday’s pizza night was proceeding as usual, but Derek sensed that most of the fun was missing as the family picked out ingredients and layered them onto the dough. He knew things with Kim were bad, but he had no intention of reopening that topic. Instead, he wanted to act as normal as possible. Kim and the kids had somehow worked things out with Miranda, so they had an interesting array of toppings to choose from. After the pizzas had baked, Derek tried to liven up the meal as everyone sat around the dining room table.

  “Now, what is this green stuff, Mom?” he asked, pointing to a sprig on a slice of pizza. “You know how I feel about green stuff.”

  “That is basil, for your information.” Miranda smiled at her son. “You know exactly what that green stuff is, young man, because I grew basil in the backyard herb garden every summer. And you used to pick it for me.”

  “Which kind do you like better, Derek?” Lydia asked. “Grandma Finley’s pizza or ours?”

  Derek could see that bullet headed his way, and he quickly dodged it. “Aren’t all these pizzas ours?” He pointed to the slices on his plate. “This kind with the pepperoni and this one with the sausage and this one here with the green stuff?”

  “But which one tastes best?” Lydia was swinging her legs under the table, which made her bounce up and down on the seat. “I like ours best, because it has tomato sauce. Grandma Finley’s doesn’t.”

  “Hers stinks,” Luke declared.

  “Hey, bud, that’s no way to talk about our dinner.”

  “Oh, Derek, you used to the say the same thing,” Miranda reminded him. “I don’t know why I bothered.”

  “Tiffany broke up with her boyfriend,” Lydia announced. “She hates him now. She burned all his letters.”

  “What does Tiffany have to do with pizza?” Luke asked.

  “The last time I ate pizza was at Tiffany’s house. Her mother’s a waitress at the pizza place in Camdenton, so they have it almost every night. And that’s when Tiffany told me she broke up with her boyfriend, so we burned the letters.”

  “You’re not supposed to play with fire.”

  “We weren’t. We burned them on the barbecue grill in the backyard. Then we burned the letters she wrote to him but hadn’t given him yet. Did you know that glitter ink sparkles and crackles when you burn it? It’s cool.”

  Derek kept an ear on the conversation and an eye on his wife. Kim was performing her usual mealtime rituals. But not once did she look at her husband.

  How long was this going to continue? They had always enjoyed each other’s company whenever they were together. He teased her, and she giggled. He complimented her, and she blushed. These days Derek felt like he was living with an ice cube. The chill extended from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning until the last sight of Kim’s back turned toward him at night.

  As the meal ended and everyone began clearing the table, the twins announced that they had decided to watch a movie together. Miranda declared that she was going to her bedroom to work. Derek wasn’t certain how it had happened, but his mother had found a way to spend her free time. It seemed Esther Moore and his mother had formed a partnership that had some sort of connection to Ashley Hanes. Jewelry, he thought, but he wasn’t sure.

  As Kim started the dishwasher, Derek reflected on the negative changes in their marriage. Had the problems between them begun with the arrival of his mother? Or had Derek’s failure to be totally honest with Kim caused this widening rift? Or could it be a combination of the things that life had tossed their way?

  While he didn’t know what had started them down this wintry path, Derek had no doubt what he wanted to happen. He wanted the arctic winds to cease and a summer breeze to return to his life. He longed to hold his wife in his arms again. Where had she gone? And how could he get her back?

  If there was a real God and not just the invisible power Derek trusted to keep himself from gambling, why didn’t He step into the lives of good people?

  For that matter, Derek wondered, what kept God from feeling real? He wanted to be a part of Kim’s whole world, but he couldn’t figure out how. They were so different. As hard as he’d tried to convince her that those differences could be worked out, now he wasn’t so sure.

  As Kim walked past him toward the living room, Derek considered reaching out and taking her hand. But he didn’t want to risk another confrontation.

  Show me what to do. He ground out the words deep in his heart. God, if You’re there, help me. I need her. I want my wife to love me again. I need to get her love back, and I don’t know how. Please make it happen.

  But of course, nothing did happen. Derek didn’t know why he had even hoped it might. Whatever changes had occurred in his life were the ones forged by attending GA meetings and constantly working the steps that kept him clean. Now his participation in the organization was routine, so much a part of him that he never mentioned it to anyone and hardly gave it a second thought. In the same way, his loyalty to a higher power had been part of the process he had used to break free, and he still acknowledged it in his effort to stay that way.

  With a sigh of frustration, he wandered into the living room. As usual, Kim was nowhere to be seen. Anything to avoid him.

  As he settled into a recliner and flipped on the television, he heard one of the twins dashing up the stairs and into the room. It was Lydia.

  “Where’s our movie?” she sang out. “We can’t find our movie! Where is it, Derek? Have you seen it?”

  “Check the shelf under the TV,” he told her.

  Crazy kid. Always trailing bits and pieces of everything she touched. As she knelt in front of the bookshelf, he sat forward and flipped through a stack of movie cases on the table beside his chair.

  “Here it is, tater tot,” he called. He tossed the case to her.

  Lydia leaped up and caught the movie; then she headed for the basement again. As she passed his chair, she paused middash. “Thanks, Dad-o.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s what Lukey and I are calling you now. Dad-o. Hope you like it!”

  Before Derek could respond, Lydia had skipped off and was pounding back down the stairs to the basement. Dad-o. He thought about the word for a moment. Well, it wasn’t bad. Through the years, he had given the twins dozens of nicknames. Nice to have one of his own. Especially one with that treasured syllable—Dad.

  Slightly encouraged, Derek clicked through the channels. A news show. A foul-mouthed comedian. A sitcom. Maybe his talk with Lydia had actually made a difference, he speculated. Come to think of it, she had been nicer to him since that night on the front porch. Neither twin had been spewing the “I hate this family” refrain lately. He pressed the channel-change button again. A ball game. A crime serial. A fishing show.

  Fishing.

  The word hit Derek like a bolt of lightning. His finger paused on the remote. What had Charlie told him about communicating with women? You’ve got to know what you want and then fish until you catch it. Charlie had wanted to eat shrimp at Aunt Mamie’s.

  Not long ago, Derek had wanted Lydia’s trust. He had won it by “fishing” for it that night on the porch. He knew exactly what he wanted from Kim, too. He wanted her love.

  What could he use for bait?

  Charlie had used a simple query. “What’s wrong, Esther, honey?”

  It had worked on Lydia and Esther. But would it succeed with Kim? Something so light and obvious? And if it did—if she took the bait—what would Derek pull out of the sea of their marital discord? His wife’s love … or an ill-tempered shark? />
  The very idea of trying Charlie’s technique on Kim made Derek’s palms sweat. Could he do it? Should he? He tried to recall the things the older man had told him. It’s just like fishing, just like fishing.…

  “Okay,” Derek murmured out loud as he stood and squared his shoulders. It might not work, but what was the alternative? Living with a silent, angry wife for the rest of his life? Or worse—losing the marriage he had sabotaged in his determination to make it work?

  After trudging back and forth through the house, even checking the garage to see if her car was there, Derek finally found Kim sitting inside the screened area of their deck. She had taken her file box out to the table and was paying bills—a chore she hated.

  Bad timing, Derek thought. Better head back into the house. He swallowed, frozen for a moment; then he lifted his chin. No, he could do this. He would—but not on his own. God, if You’re there, please help me. He said the words inside his head. But he knew the request wasn’t simply a thought. It was a prayer.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Kim could feel Derek’s eyes on her as she wrote the check for their auto insurance. He had stepped onto the deck and was standing nearby, staring at her. When she left the house earlier, she had switched on the overhead light and pulled the chain to activate the fan. That meant he could see her clearly, but she could only sense his lurking presence.

  Obviously Derek wanted something from her, but Kim didn’t have any intention of granting it—no matter what it was.

  Who did he think he was, anyway, expecting her to acknowledge him? She knew who he was—that stranger in the shadows. He was a liar. Cheat. Gambler. Addict. Manipulator. He was selfish and egotistic. A user. A traitor. A con artist. Indifferent to religion. Unable to express emotion. Hopeless at communication. He was everything she despised and abhorred.

  Trembling with anger at the thought of the man she had so foolishly married, Kim tore off the check and stuffed it into the envelope. She could hear Derek’s footsteps on the deck. Moving closer, edging toward her. It didn’t matter to her if he stood there all night. He might speak, but she wouldn’t answer. She couldn’t trust anything he would say. He was a liar.

  Liar, liar, liar.

  She picked up the next bill. Electricity. With the twins and Miranda home all summer, the amount was sky-high. Now she understood that all the money she and Derek earned went to pay bills and to his mother. Not a penny of it became their own. She had trusted her husband when he promised he would add what little was left each month to a savings account he had started when he lived in St. Louis. Little did she know it had instead gone into repaying Miranda for bailing him out of his gambling debts.

  Now he was opening the door and stepping into the small screened area where she sat. She didn’t look up.

  “Hey there,” he said.

  Kim began to write another check. It was easier this way. Living with him in silence. Not even bothering to try to talk. She had wasted so much energy trying to plumb her husband’s emotional depths—only to learn he was nothing more than a stagnant pond.

  Derek pulled out one of the green metal chairs that surrounded the table. Sitting down, he let out a deep sigh. At least she didn’t have to smell beer on his breath. With Joe, she’d had that constant issue to manage. Of course, Kim knew that no addiction could be managed by anyone but the addict. She had discovered that long ago in her childhood.

  Clearing his throat, Derek folded his hands and set them on the table. Then he spoke. “What’s wrong, Kim, honey?”

  She looked up at him. “What’s wrong? Did you just ask me what’s wrong?”

  “Yes,” he confirmed in a voice that was barely audible. His eyes met hers. “That’s what I said. What’s wrong, Kim, honey?”

  For a moment, she almost couldn’t breathe as the rage rose inside her, bubbled up to the top of her throat, stung the insides of her nostrils, blistered like steam in her ears. The man was an idiot! A total idiot! This college-educated, ten-year veteran of the state Water Patrol was a complete idiot!

  “Well,” she said evenly. “Let’s see. Hmmm. It’s so hard to choose just one thing.”

  He leaned forward. “Okay. I understand that.”

  “Really? Amazing.” She could hear the sarcasm dripping from her words, but she had no idea if her lamebrain husband had the ability to decipher verbal intonations.

  Still staring at her, Derek nodded. She hardly knew what to make of it. He was actually looking right at her. Usually he stared at the television. At the kids or his mother. At the lake, a tree, a soaring bird. Or at the message screen on his cell phone. Now he was gazing directly at her.

  “You want to know what’s wrong,” she stated. It wasn’t a question. Just a repetition of his words to make sure she’d heard him right. “You want to know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Yes,” he repeated, nodding. His eyes were still focused on her face, and he wasn’t moving even a finger.

  Kim leaned back in her chair. “Why not begin with your gambling confession?” she asked airily. “Unless that was just a bad dream I had.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  She straightened and pointed a finger at him. “You, Derek Finley, are a liar. The worst kind of liar—habitual and deliberate. You kept the truth from me. When you put a lie into a relationship, I don’t think we call that a relationship anymore.”

  “You’re right. I lied to you.”

  “You never once mentioned that you had a gambling addiction and were deeply in debt.”

  “You’re right. I kept that from you.”

  “You never said you were sending all our savings to your mother.”

  “No, Kim, I didn’t.”

  “You never told me that Miranda held power over you by keeping you on a leash like a little puppy. You’re not the brave, strong, wonderful man I thought I’d married. You’re nothing but a puppet. A mama’s boy.”

  She could see him swallow, and she knew her angry words had hit home. At any moment, he would strike back. He would argue with her, tell her she was wrong, rationalize everything. Or maybe he would hit her, like Joe had done. She was ready for that. She could take it.

  Derek knotted his fingers together, squeezing them so hard that the blood stopped and his knuckles turned white. “You … feel … betrayed by me,” he said slowly. “You took a brave step in remarrying, and now you think it was a mistake.”

  “You were the mistake,” she said, jabbing her index finger at him. “You, you, you. Don’t you get it? I’m repeating my own mistakes over and over again! I’m as big an idiot as you are. In fact, I’m a gambler, too. I took a foolish risk, and I never should have done that. I knew the Bible warned against marrying a nonbeliever, but I thought you were so different and amazing. I thought it wouldn’t matter. But I was wrong. Your character is flawed. And so is mine. We’re just a couple of stupid … dumb …”

  Kim’s eyes filled with tears as she continued. “We’re both fools. We never should have married each other. I’m not the right kind of person to be a wife. I don’t even know what it takes to make a good marriage. I have too much baggage. And now you’re just one more filthy, damaged suitcase I have to lug around. Another mistake. Another terrible, awful blunder.”

  As the tears rolled down her cheeks, Kim pushed away her husband’s reaching hands. No, she wouldn’t let him comfort her. No compliments scattered like candy. No gentle hands soothing the pain. She deserved to hurt. She had given control of her life to God and then taken it back the moment she married Derek Finley.

  “Kim,” he was saying now, pressing his palms flat on his thighs. “You’re right. I am an addict and a liar. I wanted to marry you so much that I deceived you. I am flawed. And I’m powerless. I acknowledge those facts every time I step through the door at a GA meeting or fight the urge to hand over my money for a scratch-off lottery ticket. When I call you up and tell you I’m working late and then go to a meeting, I know I’m a liar. You’re right to be angry with me.”

&nb
sp; Wiping her cheeks with her fingers, Kim sniffled. She couldn’t believe he was admitting it. Staring at him through blurred vision, she felt she was seeing yet another side of this man she was determined to despise. Once he had been her knight in shining armor, her dream lover, her best friend. Then he had become her worst nightmare—so horribly fallen from the ivory pedestal on which she had placed him that she was sure he was broken to pieces. And now here he was … the broken man … crawling toward her … holding up the shards of himself.…

  “How long?” she asked him. “How long have you been clean?”

  “I got my eleven-year pin last month. Here. And here’s my Combo Book.” He took the pin and a yellow pamphlet from his hip pocket and dropped them onto the table. He chuckled without humor. “In Gamblers Anonymous, I’m what we call a ‘trusted servant.’ Like a sponsor for alcoholics. People phone me, and I help them get through a bad time. There’s a guy right now I’m especially worried about. I’m afraid he might be getting in too deep, and I’ve been talking to him a lot.”

  “Is that who the mysterious phone calls have been from? Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

  Derek sighed. “I was afraid you would leave me. GA work takes a lot of patience, and most of us are fairly unrealistic, insecure, and immature. Despite all my years, I still fit the mold pretty well.” He paused and looked at the floor. “I guess you’ve figured that out.”

  Kim set her fingertips on the well-worn booklet. He must have read it every day. It must have been with him constantly. How could she not have known? Was she blind?

  “You told me your mother was your higher power,” she whispered.

  “I shouldn’t have said that. I do acknowledge an authority outside myself—and it sure isn’t my mom. Having her around makes it hard to keep things in perspective. She’s convinced that forcing me to repay the debt keeps me clean. I’ve tried to explain, but she has no idea how GA works. She doesn’t want to understand.”

  “Then who is your higher power?”