Husband from 9 to 5

by Susan Meier

  “So you let her do what she had to do,” Molly said blandly, obviously understanding what he was telling her.

  He nodded, then prowled the room. searching for a way to say what he honestly needed to say, but not finding any help. So he faced her. “The day she was killed I didn’t go to work. I couldn’t. Bringing a child into the world was such a big step that I couldn’t leave it to the organizational chart of her career. I had to know I really wanted a child and I really wanted a child with her, or I wasn’t buying in.”

  “That makes sense. Everybody needs to think things through....”

  “Yes, well, the real problem was, our marriage was gone. Somehow I’d fallen out of love with her. And I knew damned well she didn’t love me. It only took me twenty minutes of pacing our house for me to realize that was why I was balking at having a child. Somehow in a few years we’d gone from being this fairy-tale, fantasy couple into being two strangers. I didn’t recognize her anymore, and there were some days when I didn’t even like her. When I realized we were the last two people on the face of the earth who should be bringing a child into the world, I also admitted to myself that our marriage was in trouble. So I called her at work and asked her to come home. She refused because she was very busy. I told her the conclusions I had drawn and that I thought we shouldn’t be having a child, but getting a divorce. When she realized a divorce wouldn’t merely jeopardize her career, it would also mean her plan of having children would be set back, she jumped into her car to come home to talk some sense into me....”

  “And she was killed”

  “And she was killed.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Jack.”

  He turned away again, agitated, angry. “You know, logically I knew that. But I still felt guilty—for years.”

  “But you don’t feel guilty anymore.”

  He paused, as if taking mental inventory, and his Adam’s apple worked. “No.”

  “So now you feel guilty for not feeling guilty?” Molly asked incredulously.

  “No.” He shook his head, then caught her gaze. “I’m through all that”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I can’t let you leave thinking I hate you.”

  She licked her dry lips. “I don’t think you hate me,” she said, then she waited. She watched as he searched her face, watched as he fought some sort of mental battle, watched as he stopped—again—far short of the mark.

  “And we’re still friends?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded, but pursed her lips because she knew she was going to cry.

  “Good. Then I guess I can go.”

  “I guess you can,” she agreed, though she had an odd sense that he almost expected her to ask him to stay. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ask him to stay when she knew she’d be breaking into tears at any second.

  He swallowed and turned to walk out of her bedroom. A minute later she heard her apartment door close.

  The weight of loss settled on Molly again and she sank to her bed. If he would just let her alone, let her get on with the rest of her life, this would be much easier, because in insisting on being friends he kept putting her through the same pain again and again. She couldn’t be his friend because then she would always love him, she’d never get over him, and she wasn’t accepting half, or part of what he could give her. She deserved more. Better. Everything. She deserved everything. If he couldn’t give her everything, she’d find it somewhere else. Leaving would be painful, getting over him would be devastating, but she’d never, ever settle for half.

  In fact, she decided to tell him that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the end, Patricia concluded that Molly leaving Barrington wasn’t really a secret because everyone could discover that on her own. She told the girls at Barrington that Molly had resigned and, she suspected, would be leaving Phoenix. Acting as spokesperson, Rachel called and discovered that Molly wasn’t merely moving out of town, she was moving Monday morning. When the big day came, everyone took a personal day and showed up on her doorstep, ready to help her.

  “I can’t believe this,” Molly said, tears in her eyes. “You guys shouldn’t have taken a day off for me.”

  “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have kept all this a secret,” Olivia chastised, from her seat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, where she sat eating yogurt. Because she was pregnant, no one wanted her lifting or moving anything.

  “I couldn’t tell you that I’d made the same mistake twice,” Molly confessed, then collapsed on the only available spot on her sofa. Rachel and Patricia were packing dishes. Sophia and Cindy were carefully wrapping knickknacks from Molly’s curio cabinet in white tissue paper and bubble wrap.

  “Not only had I fallen more ridiculously in love with Jack, but Mike the mailman made me feel that everybody thought I was strong because I’d fallen out of love.”

  All five of the women groaned.

  “You ignored us, but took advice from a man?” Patricia wailed.

  “I didn’t want you guys to think I was a fool again.”

  “Oh, Molly,” Rachel said through a sigh. “We’re your friends. You’re supposed to be foolish in front of us. That’s what friends are for.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have to be a fool in front of anybody anymore. Jack came by on Saturday and he gave me his usual speech about us being friends, except this time he admitted that his first relationship wasn’t good, it was bad. It helped me to understand a little better, and I accepted the situation. Jack doesn’t believe he can love me, so he wants to be friends. But after he left I realized being friends might be good for him, but it’s hard on me. So I called his house before he got home so I could leave a message on his answering machine.”

  “To say what?” Cindy asked incredulously.

  “To say I didn’t even want to be friends.”

  Sophia gasped with surprise. “Really! God, that was brave.”

  “I don’t think so,” Molly disagreed. “In a way I think it was a kind of cowardice. Every time I see him I want to love him. I realized I can’t be friends anymore because I’ll always be attached. I don’t want to be attached. So I told him I never wanted to see him again. I want to find somebody else, somebody who can love me.”

  Jack had been shocked to the core by Molly’s message on his answering machine.

  Logically he knew her leaving meant that they’d drift apart. But in his heart, he always felt he’d have a place for her. The fact that she was booting him out of her heart hurt. It really hurt to be pushed up against the reality that in moving out of his life, Molly was planning to move into someone else’s. Oh, she didn’t know whose life she’d move into. She couldn’t tell the future. No one could. But she was clear about the fact that she was leaving, permanently and for good, because she wanted to fall in love. She wanted the fantasy, the fairy tale, the dream, the house, the kids, the man to love her. Since that wasn’t him, she wanted him out of her life.

  And it hurt so much that Jack got angry.

  Yes, he understood her right to want all of that. Rationally he agreed. But on an elemental level, he couldn’t stand the thought of her with another man. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching her. But more than that, he couldn’t stand the thought of another man sharing her dreams.

  So he called her. And he got her answering machine. Realizing she wasn’t home, he drove to her apartment and waited outside, hoping that he would catch her returning. But when he saw her coming home and he saw that she was energetic and bubbly—happy without him—he lost his nerve and went home to wait for her call since he’d left a message that asked her to call him.

  When she didn’t call he knew she meant business. She wasn’t going to see him. Didn’t want to see him. She wanted a life without him. And she was happy about it.

  And why not? He’d pushed her to it.

  “So basically, when I didn’t return his call, I think I made it clear that I meant what I said.”

  “Good for
you,” Olivia said.

  “I don’t know,” Patricia said warily. “I still think he loves you.”

  “But he can’t show it,” Cindy protested. “He has to be able to show it.”

  Even as Cindy was talking, the doorbell rang. Molly jumped up. “It’s moot,” she said, striding to the door. “Because this is probably the movers. This time tomorrow, I’ll be in San Francisco.”

  With that she opened the door and three burly moving men grinned at her. The two in the front were so large, they dwarfed and virtually hid the one in the back. “Molly Doyle?” the leader asked around his odd, smirking grin.

  “Yep,” she happily confirmed, then let the three men in. “I don’t know how you people want to work this, but my friends and I are handling the small, fragile things. We’ll have them boxed for you in about an hour. You can start on the furniture.”

  “Bedroom,” the big guy grunted. “You take our pal here,” he said, pointing behind him, “back there and give him the instructions. Leo and I are going out for the dollies.”

  Molly nodded absently and turned to walk down the hall to her bedroom, assuming the mover was following her. When she reached her bedroom, she stepped inside and was unnerved when she heard the door close behind her. Frightened, she spun around only to discover the third mover was Jack. Dressed in the bright gray coveralls and little cap, he leaned against her door.

  “Molly, why didn’t you return my call?”

  She stared at him. “I thought I’d explained all that.”

  “You’re telling me what you want. You’re not even considering...”

  “What you want? No. I’m not considering what you want!” she said through a gasp. “I’ve been around for four years and you didn’t want me. Then. when you decided you really did like me, you only liked me as a friend. I put my feelings out on the tine and you’ve rejected me. I’m not going through it again.”

  “What if I told you I only rejected you because I don’t know how to start over again?”

  “And you’re coming to me because I’m the queen of starting over?” Molly asked, spreading her hands to indicate the fact that she was moving.

  He shook his head again. “No, I’m coming to you because I love you.”

  For a good twenty seconds, Molly held her breath, filly expecting him to say, “But...”

  However, he never said it. He began to walk around her bedroom, picking up and examining her things. Finally he said, “My first marriage was so screwed up that I don’t think I know how to have a real relationship anymore.”

  She swallowed, not at all sure what to say, not at all sure how she’d keep herself from jumping into his arms, but she knew she had to. He might love her, but he had to want everything she wanted. If he didn’t, he would only be giving her half of what she wanted and she couldn’t settle for half.

  Struggling for breath, she said, “Well, you certainly don’t do it by pushing away the people you love.”

  “I know that....”

  “And you have to be able to take a few risks.”

  “Hey, I paid fifty bucks to wear these coveralls and get the first fifteen minutes of your time. I’d say that was pretty risky.”

  That made her smile. “You’re right. Gray’s not your color.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  Jack smiled. Molly smiled. Neither said anything.

  Finally he sighed. “So, what do we do?”

  Molly shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you want.”

  Jack licked his dry lips. “I know I don’t want you to go. I know I don’t want to live without you. I know I don’t want another man touching you. And I definitely know I don’t want you having another man’s children. I want you to have my babies.”

  Molly pressed her lips together to stop their trembling. “I want to have your babies, too.”

  “You’re going to have to help me, here, Molly,” he said slowly, cautiously. “Because I’m not quite sure of what I should be doing.”

  “Well, you could start by coming over here and kissing me.”

  His head snapped up. “You’re going to take me back? After everything I’ve done to you and even knowing my past?”

  Molly laughed. “Honey, I’d take you in a paper bag, surrounded by children, or even if you were dead broke.”

  That made Jack laugh. “I guess this means you love me, too.”

  “Sometimes I think I adore you.”

  He closed his eyes as if in pain. “Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.”

  “Oh, I mean them,” she said, and walked over to him. She slid her arms around his neck. “Let me show you how I mean them,” she whispered, but before she could kiss him, he’d already pressed his lips to hers. Desperation fused with pentup longing and Molly reveled in it. Part of him seemed to seep into her, as surely as she felt part of herself going to him. When he nudged her toward the bed, and tumbled her to the soft comforter, she didn’t protest, but when they rolled and bumped into one of her moving boxes, both stopped.

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I suppose this means I’m not leaving.”

  “Well, leaving is sort of a relative term,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “I was kind of hoping we could have the movers take these things to my house, so you’d move in with me.”

  She gasped in mock outrage. “Oh. no. Not again. Not until we’re actually married.”

  “That would be fine with me,” he said, then kissed her again as if to seal the promise. “In fact, I’ll take every one of those five kids you want, and I might even barter for a sixth.”

  “Really?” she said, but she knew she didn’t have to ask. Though she never would have guessed it, she had gotten her wish.

  Dream man.

  Dream house.

  And children.

  Lots of children.

  She’d never be alone again....

  Neither would he.

  ISBN : 978-1-4592-5935-5

  HUSBAND FROM 9 TO 5

  Copyright © 1999 by Harlequin Books S.A.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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