by Sally John
Jo sat beside her, put out her hand, and saw Molly grab the bottle of salad dressing she still held.
They broke into simultaneous giggles.
And Jo knew nothing was hopeless.
Fifty-One
Char held a wad of paper towels to her face. One sheet by itself was not going to absorb the unladylike stuff produced by her sobs. There wasn’t even a ladylike term for the sobs themselves. No two ways about it, they were gut-wrenching.
She still stood facing the front door Cam had walked through a few minutes before. Evidently he had come in far enough to retrieve the towels from the kitchen counter, but he now stood again between her and the door, the thick roll in his hand, not near enough for them to touch. He hadn’t said a word since entering. She couldn’t read his bland expression.
Confession and apology stumbled over each other, at times incoherently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Nothing happened. I’m sorry. I left the restaurant right after I talked to you. Nothing happened!”
At last the crying slowed and she stopped talking. Cam hadn’t said a word since he’d stepped inside.
He cleared his throat. “But something did happen.”
Like a physical blow, his words nearly knocked her over. She went to the nearest armchair and sank onto it. Hugging herself, she rocked back and forth. She felt icy cold.
“Y-yes.” Her teeth chattered. “I flirted. I egged him on.”
Cam pulled the ottoman to the chair and sat on it. “I don’t understand.” His deep voice fell to new depths of bass and was toneless, as if he were tired beyond measure. “You talk to everyone. You flirt, you tease. That’s just you. You make people feel good. You’re the most outgoing person on the face of the earth. Why is this different? When did it become…egging him on?”
“Last year.” She knew exactly when. “After my birthday dinner. We were all playing charades and you went to bed.”
“That…wasn’t so out of the ordinary.” His hushed voice cracked.
Through blurred vision she watched pain etch itself onto his face. Everything sort of crumpled, his high forehead, puppy brown eyes, regal nose, and wide mouth. She was responsible for it.
But still… “I was tired of not feeling loved, of not being noticed. By you, Cam. By you.”
“Do you love him?” He skirted the underlying issue, but she followed his lead.
“No. He simply gave me the attention I craved. It was never physical, though. I had no idea he would follow me out here with such intentions.”
“But last night you made me believe you wanted to follow those intentions.”
Still shivering, she felt an onslaught of heat. “I’m sorry. I thought I did. But when I came face-to-face with the real possibility, I knew I couldn’t. It was wrong. I’m married to you.”
“How could you even think it?”
“Because I was so very desperate for your attention.”
“My attention?” His voice rose, making him sound surprised.
“Yours, Cam. I’m not totally blaming you for this, but—Oh, hang it all. You’re responsible too. I mean, you never comment on how I look, never notice a new outfit or hairstyle. You never make eye contact. Not even when you’re checking my teeth! You never say you love me. And physical intimacy! Well! Don’t get me started!” Did she really have to explain his obvious lack of interest? If one were interested, wouldn’t one act like it?
“I never?”
“Oh, once in a blue moon. Not enough!”
“You should have said something.”
“I shouldn’t have to!”
“Then how am I supposed to know?”
“Because a husband should just know these things!”
“Well, you should just know I love you!”
“How should I know that?”
He sighed heavily. “Because I go to work every day.”
“That makes a lot of sense!”
He stood up abruptly. “I’m tired. I’m going to find a motel. The cab passed a Best Western a few blocks—”
“Camden Wilcox!” She leapt to her feet. “That is exactly what this is all about. Don’t you dare quit on me! Don’t you dare go take a nap and ignore me!”
“Char, I was up all night making arrangements and packing and then I flew here as soon as I could. What more do you want from me?”
“I want you to fight for me!”
“Well, if Todd Brooks were here, I’d punch him in the nose.”
“Really?”
He shook his head. “Probably not. I am not a knight in shining armor. I’m just your everyday overweight family dentist who needs a shower and a bed and time to think.”
“There’s plenty of room here—”
“I have to be alone.” He walked to the door and picked up his bag. “I’ll call you later.”
Engulfed with another weeping fit, she sank back onto the chair and picked up the roll of paper towels. The door fell shut behind him.
He needed this. He needed that. What about what she needed? Like a hug? Like his presence? Like a flaming knight in shining armor!
She ripped off a paper towel and pressed it to her face.
“He came, Char. All this way.” Molly sat on the ottoman and yanked tissues from a box. “Here.”
Char dropped her wadded paper towel onto the floor and accepted the softer tissues. “Thanks.” She had just relayed her and Cam’s conversation to Molly and Jo, most of which they’d probably been able to hear from the back of the house.
Standing behind Molly, Jo said, “Sounds pretty close to knight in shining armor to me. He had to move at steed pace and pay a king’s ransom to make such an impromptu trip.”
“But he didn’t even hug me. Not that he ever does unless I initiate it, but how could I this time? He stood there like a stiff-armed robot! I’ve never seen him so upset.”
“He has a right to be upset.”
“I know that, but it’s not exactly the sort of attention I need from him.”
“At least he didn’t say ‘Where’s the remote?’”
Char shrugged.
Jo said, “He obviously gives a hoot. Besides getting here, he must have canceled patients. Didn’t you say he keeps Saturday hours?”
Char nodded. “Mornings.”
Molly said, “And he must have made arrangements for the kids as well, right?”
“I suppose. His parents still enjoy Cole and Savannah, and the kids, surprisingly, are okay with them. They would come and stay. He must have asked them.”
“All right! Three pluses for the guy,” Jo said. “And his remark about going to work every day? That’s just his way of saying he loves you. It seems to be how men are wired. I think it’s a caveman sort of thing.” She growled for emphasis.
Molly squinted her eyes and glanced over her shoulder at Jo, who shrugged.
Char said, “But I want words. I need words.”
Molly said, “So tell him that. Again. Very specifically which ones and how often.”
“Pff,” she fluttered her lips. “If he bothers to listen.”
Molly hugged her. “He bothered to come. He knows you betrayed him, and that cuts him deeply. It will take him time, but the fact you did not go beyond flirting has to mean something. Last night was a wake-up call for him in more ways than one. He will bother to listen.”
“And just think,” Jo added. “You can go off somewhere and talk and even spend the night away—and your roomies won’t be upset in the least!”
Char smiled halfheartedly. “Well, I don’t have a knight, but I am grateful for my ladies-in-waiting.”
Fifty-Two
Andie thought that by now the Adventure List would have become easier to follow. But her heart hammered in her throat, and she gripped the round metal railing with clammy hands and hunched inward like a turtle when the roller coaster roared past.
She stood in line, ticket crunched in her hand, waiting for her turn to climb aboard. No one in front of or behind her appeared close to forty year
s of age. It was a young person’s adventure. Why in the world…? She could simply scribble this event off the list. Not check if off, but pretend that she’d never written it down.
After all, seven of the twelve things were already checked off: Wear the spunky outfit. Eat breakfast alone in a restaurant. Explore an area of San Diego; take a bus to get there. Eat lunch alone in a restaurant. Look at a huge ugly snake up close. Pet a goat. Talk to a homeless person.
She’d added that last one after the conversation with Zeke. The event had been accomplished in Balboa Park where she saw a woman wearing one too many coats for a sunny day and hauling a stuffed trash bag. The talk did not go well. Evidently the woman wanted to be left alone; she refused even to take the ten-dollar bill Andie held out to her. Still, that counted and she had checked it off, knowing that later on the boardwalk she could make eye contact with the homeless, perhaps even talk with them. If they wanted to.
A short zoo visit had taken care of the snake and the goat. By the time she boarded the bus for the return trip to the beach, she was flying high. She had faced fears, prayed for courage, and forged ahead like that elephant rushing across his playground. Ba-boom. Andie felt invincible.
Only five items remained: Talk to a pierced and tattooed teenager. Eat sashimi in a Japanese restaurant where strangers were seated together. Spend the night alone in a motel. Spend twenty-four hours without friends or family. And…ride the roller coaster.
Her legs wobbled like jelly.
Jelly. Anjelica. What a delightful time they’d shared over tea. Andie had even shared her Adventure List with the woman and won her hearty approval.
Now that could be an item: Show the silly list to a stranger. She could cross off roller coaster and still have an even dozen adventures.
Silly.
The word stopped her short. That would be Paul’s voice. Her recognition time of his pernicious influence had shrunk considerably.
“It is not a silly list.” She had even begun to speak out loud to him. Out loud and point-blank. “And, by golly, just for even thinking this is silly, I will ride this thing!”
“Lady, you okay?”
Andie blinked and saw that the roller coaster attendant was speaking to her.
“What?” She had to nearly shout over the noise of the rattling contraption.
“I said, are you okay?” He was young, his hair no more than an eighth of an inch long, his shirt a sleeveless tee. A silver ring hugged one nostril. A reddish-orange flame outlined in black rode up his bicep.
She smiled. “I’m scared to death. I have never, ever in my life ridden one of these things.”
“You’re kidding!” He smiled back at her. “Nothing to worry about.” He went on to explain the safety features.
A few moments later he pushed the seat’s bar into place snug against her and promised her she would be fine. “All you have to do, ma’am, is let go.”
Andie grinned as she followed the cute little Asian hostess through the crowded dining room.
All you have to do is let go.
Yes! What better way to describe soaring on a roller coast? Or, for that matter, her entire day? She had been letting go point-blank for nearly twenty-four hours.
She felt the spunk in her step. The grin stretched. Was she strutting like a peacock on her way to join seven strangers for dinner? Probably. But what else could one do?
Nine out of twelve adventure items checked off the list! Make that nine and a half. She was already in the Japanese restaurant. She was even looking forward to her first bit of raw seafood.
It’s full of bacteria and God knows what else. You’ll get—
Stuff it, Paul.
She joined the seven strangers already seated at a table shaped like a half-moon. Spanning the space between its tips was a gray slab where, she assumed, a chef would cook the food. Or slap seaweed around a piece of uncooked fish…
The others welcomed her as she sat at one end beside a smiling redheaded woman about her age who said, “Great color on you! I’ll have to try it.”
They were a friendly bunch, a group of siblings and spouses and their widowed father, celebrating one of the guys birthday; he was forty. With gusto they included her in their conversation and talked her through menu choices. By the end of the meal she wanted sushi recipes to add to her collection.
Laughing, she bid them goodnight and headed to the exit, mentally checking off item number ten. Now, if she didn’t succumb to the desire to call her boys and if she didn’t bolt from her little motel cottage before dawn, she could check off number—
“Andie!” Char emerged from the crush of people meandering in the foyer.
She smiled. “Char! Hi!”
They hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other for ages. It felt good.
Andie grasped her friend’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. Their unusual camel color had always intrigued her. No. Point-blank reality? They had always made her envious. Now they intrigued her. Now she admired them.
She lowered her head in order to be heard above the din. “Char, I am so sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
“Oh, sugar! Don’t you worry your pretty little redhead about it. We’ve all been on edge what with—” She laughed and waved her hand in dismissal. “I don’t need to get into that. Look who’s here.”
Andie followed her line of sight and saw a tall man next to them. Blond hair, distinctly square jaw beneath the smile. “Cam?”
“Hi, Andie. It’s been a long time.” He thrust out his hand.
She shook it, recalling how they used to tease him about avoiding hugs. She thought his height interfered. Well over six feet, he was easily the tallest man in the restaurant. Still good-looking, though he had put on quite a bit of weight.
“What a surprise!” she said.
“Good to see you. Excuse me. I need to put our name in for a table.”
Andie let her mouth drop open as she turned to Char.
“I know!” Char said. “Halfway across the country.”
“What’s going on?”
“I called Cam from the restaurant last night and told him about Todd, and then I left Todd there and this morning Molly prayed with me and—Oh! There is so much to tell you! I’ll fill you in later. How was your day?”
“Great.”
“You ate here? All by yourself?”
Andie smiled. Char knew her phobia of eating alone. It dated back to school cafeteria days. “I ate with a group of strangers!”
Char laughed. “That’s even better than by yourself!”
“Now I’m off to my motel room.”
“Okay. Go for it, Miss Spunk. See you tomorrow.”
They hugged goodbye and Andie made her way through the crowd to the door, smiling to herself. Molly prayed with Char? Cam showed up? Wow.
Night had fallen, but the streets were brightly lit and the sidewalks lined with restaurants and people. Taxis weren’t plentiful in the beach community, but the motel was within walking distance. Andie headed for it.
Check off number ten. She had eaten sashimi with strangers.
Her heels felt wound up with springs. They bounced her along the sidewalk.
She had just talked with Char. Uh-oh.
She halted.
Did that cancel spend twenty-four hours without friends or family?
Well…she hadn’t really spent time with her. And their meeting was by accident. It wasn’t as if she’d sought her company. It wasn’t the same as, say, calling the boys—which she still longed to do simply to hear them laugh at what their uptight mother had done.
But she didn’t really need to hear their laughter before tomorrow. After all, she was feeling God’s pleasure at her fearing not. Somehow that more than made up for any momentary loneliness.
She resumed her spunky strut.
Check off number eleven!
Fifty-Three
Char sat across from Cam in a booth at the Japanese restaurant. Unlike Andie’s experience, they chose to
dine in a quieter room and let the chef cook their meals out of sight.
The thought struck her that they hadn’t eaten dinner alone without friends or family at the table in—well, who knew how many years?
She choked on a sip of water.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded and coughed into a napkin. Did he have any idea? Instead of blurting out the question, she held back. She was measuring her words tonight, trying to stay on track.
Like an angst-ridden teen, she had sat in the beach house all afternoon, phone in her pocket, mind racing, stomach churning. Regret over her actions and anger over his inaction duked it out, neither one winning the struggle. She was wrong. He was wrong.
But he had come. He had come. Like Jo said, three pluses for the guy.
At last he had called at six forty, suggesting dinner. He was hungry. She wasn’t, but obviously that didn’t matter. They needed to talk.
Understatement of the year.
Jo and Molly had helped her prepare by asking what his favorite food was and locating an appropriate place not too far away. On her third change of clothes, they convinced her she looked presentable. She wondered why she was concerned. It wasn’t as though he would notice.
Jo gave her the keys to her car with an exaggerated wink. “Don’t hurry back. If I should need the car in the morning, I know which motel you’re at.”
She had picked up Cam at the motel located a few blocks from the beach house and driven to the restaurant. They hadn’t exchanged any words of significance. He appeared rested but was still standoffish. It was as if after his leap into the action which got him to San Diego, he forgot the point of his heroic efforts.
Which was just fine with her. If he didn’t get the point—to fix things between them—she wasn’t going to explain it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted a hug. She knew for certain she wasn’t going to give one first.
After they ordered, he said, “You’re so quiet tonight.”
“Maybe I’ve prattled on too much through the years.”
“I like listening to your prattle.”
