Spiral of Bliss: The Complete Boxed Set

by Nina Lane

  April 21

  The sound of my mother’s laughter rings out from the front room of the second floor. She and Allie’s friend Stacy have been working on painting the Wicked Witch’s castle room for the past few days. I pause in my attempt to rip up a baseboard, trying to pretend that I’m not eavesdropping even though I totally am.

  “It’s a nice place,” my mother is saying. “Small-townish, but with a good amount of stuff to do. I was there for about three months.”

  “I think it’s so cool that you’ve traveled all over,” Stacy replies. “The only place I’ve been is Tennessee to visit family.”

  “Liv never liked traveling,” Crystal replies. “She didn’t have an adventurous streak. She won’t even come to Phoenix with me for a few days. I wanted her help finding out about my mother’s house and stuff.”

  Stacy’s response is drowned out by the sound of the radio turning on downstairs. I put down the crowbar and go to where Brent and a couple of other guys are starting to nail down the hardwood floor. I step onto the front porch and breathe in the fresh air.

  Envy. That’s what this ugly, gnawing feeling in my gut is. I’ve felt it before, every time people gravitated toward my mother, praised her, wanted her acceptance. It makes no sense that I should still feel this way, but there it is. My mother has always been at ease with so many people. Except me.

  Of course, those people haven’t had the history that Crystal and I do, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

  I leave the café earlier than I’d planned and spend a couple of extra hours at the Historical Museum working on my report about the Butterfly House. As I walk home, I call Kelsey on my cell.

  “You doing anything tonight?” I ask.

  “I’ve got a meeting about that meteorology conference in Japan I’m going to,” she says. “Won’t be home until late.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Oh, you know. If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother.”

  She chuckles. “How long is she staying?”

  “She said something about leaving next week. I just want her to be gone before Dean gets back.”

  “Which is when?”

  “I’m not sure yet. A month, maybe.” Though my heart aches at the idea of not seeing Dean for that long again, I can’t shake my conviction that he is still safer in Italy.

  “Okay, go to your meeting,” I tell Kelsey. “Call me tomorrow.”

  “I will. Hitch up your big girl panties.”

  “I’m trying, but they give me a wedgie.”

  “I’ll loan you some tweezers.”

  “With the size of my ass these days, I’ll need pliers.”

  Kelsey laughs. We exchange goodbyes, and I stop to pick up takeout Chinese food before returning home. After leaving the boxes on the kitchen counter, I go into the living room.

  Crystal is sitting on the sofa, writing something on a pad of paper. She rips the page off and hands it to me.

  “Phone call from a lawyer,” she says. “Asked for your husband.”

  My heart plummets. Written in Crystal’s flowing handwriting is the name of the lawyer who specializes in sexual harassment cases.

  “Thanks.” I toss the paper onto the foyer table and go into the bedroom to change.

  When I emerge in clean jeans and a T-shirt, Crystal is still sitting on the sofa. I go past her, aware of her following as I head for the kitchen.

  “Liv.”

  “Not your business, Crystal.”

  “Why does he need a lawyer?”

  “Dean has a lot of investments and stuff.” I realize that’s probably the wrong thing to say. “Never mind.”

  “Is the guy a divorce lawyer?”

  “No! Of course not. Again, not that it’s any of your business.”

  But I’m not stupid. One click of a mouse and she’d find out exactly what Sterling and Fox specializes in. I could deflect that discovery with bullshit about Dean needing a lawyer for employment reasons, but Crystal wouldn’t buy it. I’ve visited the Sterling and Fox website. Sexual harassment is listed as their firm’s primary area of practice.

  I feel my mother watching me as I dump the Chinese food into bowls and take them to the table.

  “If there’s anything I don’t regret,” she says, “it’s that I didn’t marry your father. It would have been a mess to try and divorce him.”

  “Dean and I are not getting a divorce. And I’m not going to talk about it anymore.”

  Somewhat to my surprise, she doesn’t press the issue. I eat a few bites before holing up in Dean’s office to read for the rest of the evening. It’s not until the following morning that I know Crystal knows. Sometimes I hate the Internet. Or at least, I wish I was a better liar.

  “Is that why he’s out of town?” she asks.

  I shake my head and swallow a gulp of too-hot coffee.

  “Is it a student?” she asks. “Or another professor?”

  “None of your business.”

  “But it’s someone,” she says, and too late I realize that my response was a tacit acknowledgment that she got it right.

  “It’s no wonder something like this happened,” Crystal remarks. “He’s a handsome man, and with all those young, pretty students around—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Crystal, stop it,” I snap. “Dean didn’t do anything wrong. One of his students is upset that he wouldn’t approve her thesis proposal, and she’s using this charge as a weapon of revenge.”

  “That’s what he told you?”

  “That’s what I know.”

  Her mouth compresses. “Jesus, Liv, he has you snowed, doesn’t he?”

  “No! Believe it or not, Crystal, there are good men in the world. And Dean is one of the best.”

  “You don’t have to defend him. I know you don’t want my opinion, but I’ve learned a lot about men over the years, and it seems to me like your husband isn’t all that you think he is.”

  “You’re right.” My shoulders tense. “I don’t want your opinion.”

  “He’s the only man you’ve been with, right?”

  I don’t respond. Can’t. How does she know that?

  “I’ve known men like him,” Crystal continues. “He’s older than you. Way more experienced. Good-looking. Good talker. You met him when you were young and struggling with school and work. He has plenty of money and promised to take care of you. He gives you whatever you want, and in return you give him what he wants, right?”

  I can’t breathe past the tightness in my throat. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “I do know something about manipulative men who force you to do exactly what they want.”

  “Dean has never forced me to do anything.”

  “Of course you don’t think so,” Crystal replies. “A man like him would make you believe you’re the center of his world. You think he’d never use you. But then you follow him wherever he goes, let him take care of you, while you keep him happy in the bedroom. He knows how good he has it. But you can’t see the truth of it, which is that he’s manipulating you.”

  My chest aches. Every cell in my body is fighting Crystal’s ugly, twisted assessment of my marriage.

  “You need to either shut up or get out.” My voice, cold and knife-sharp, doesn’t sound like my own.

  “Don’t get angry with me,” she says. “I was young and naïve once too. That’s exactly how I ended up pregnant with you. And it upsets me to think that my daughter, that thirteen-year-old girl who had one helluva backbone, has ended up with a sugar daddy and still nothing of her own.”

  Oh, shit.

  I can deflect what she said about Dean and me. I know the truth of our marriage. I know the truth of my husband. But this arrow flies past my defenses and hits me where I already hurt. And she knows
it.

  “All of what you’re saying is bullshit,” I tell her. “You were the one always looking for a man to take care of you. You’re the one who still has nothing of your own.”

  “And yet you were always ranting about how you never wanted to end up like me.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “I’m not like you,” I retort. “I’m nothing like you. I own a business now, goddammit. I have a life here. I’m putting down roots. And if you’re trying to make me doubt my marriage and my husband, good luck with that. Because I never will.”

  “I’m not trying to make you doubt anything, Liv. I can read the signs. The miscarriage, your husband being gone for so long, leaving you alone, this business with a lawyer… you’re obviously having marital problems, and you’re blind to what your marriage really is. I want you to see it and to know you still have a way out.”

  “You can’t make me see anything. You don’t even know me! I don’t want your opinion or advice or anything, okay? And I sure as hell don’t want a way out.” I force myself to approach her. “You need to leave, Crystal. I don’t want you here anymore.”

  She holds up her hands. “Okay, fine. But I’m worried about you. And the offer to come with me to Phoenix still stands. You just need to grow a spine.”

  An ice-cold shiver rattles through me. I know exactly what she’s trying to do. She can’t stand the thought that I have what she doesn’t. And she wants me to believe all this shit she’s throwing at me so I’ll feel the need to escape with her again.

  “Conversation’s over,” I tell her. “It’s past time for you to find somewhere else to stay. Either start looking for a hotel room or leave for Phoenix now. You can’t stay with me anymore.”

  I no longer care where she goes, as long as it’s away. I go to the TV stand and grab the VHS tape that contains the video of Crystal’s cereal commercial.

  “And you can take this with you.” I throw the tape on the coffee table, then stalk to the bedroom and slam the door so hard the hinges rattle.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dean

  April 22

  “I DON’T WANT YOU TO TALK to her.” I tighten my grip on the phone. Anger seethes in my gut. Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean I have to like it. On the contrary. I fucking hate it.

  “Your wife actually saved me some time by contacting me first,” Ben Stafford says on the other end of the phone. “I’d intended to call her soon to set up an appointment. I just need to ask her some basic questions to verify everything you’ve already told me.”

  “There’s no way you can leave her out of it?”

  “It’s procedure, Professor West. When will you be back in town?”

  “I don’t know. I’m chairperson of a Medieval Studies conference that’s taking place in July. I have to be back for that. I want to come back sooner.”

  “I’ve gotten pretty busy with several other cases, but I should have yours wrapped up well before the end of the semester so I can make my recommendation to the board.”

  Which could be even more of a disaster for me. I end the call and dial our home number, clenching my teeth when Crystal’s voice comes over the line.

  “Olivia West’s residence,” she says.

  “It’s Dean,” I tell her. “Where is she?”

  “At the café, I suppose. How’s Italy?”

  “Italian. Tell Liv I called.”

  “Of course,” Crystal says. “Did she relay the message from the lawyer?”

  My heart seizes. “What lawyer?”

  “Sterling and Fox,” she replies. “I took the call. I thought maybe Liv had contacted a divorce lawyer.”

  “No, goddammit.” Though I hate letting Crystal get to me, the words Liv and divorce crash in my brain like missiles.

  “Well, all evidence points to you having marital problems,” Crystal continues, “but I saw that’s not Sterling and Fox’s area of specialty.”

  Cold foreboding prickles my skin. I want to hang up, but I can’t. I need to know what she knows.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  “Just asked for you to return his call.” She pauses. “I imagine sexual harassment is like a rape charge for a man. No matter the outcome, the stigma never goes away. And Liv will have to deal with being married to a man whose reputation is ruined.”

  A red haze coats my vision. My voice drops to a dangerous level. “I want you out of my house. Away from my wife.”

  “My daughter,” she says. “Look, I’ve been in… compromising positions before, Dean. I’m sure Liv has too. If you just—”

  I hang up on her before my fury unleashes. My hand shakes as I try Liv’s cell again. I could give a shit what Crystal Winter thinks of me. But if she knows what happened to Liv at Fieldbrook, if she uses it against her—

  I throw the phone on the bed.

  The arrows are flying at my wife from all directions. And I’m five thousand goddamned miles away.

  I want to be back with Liv right now. I need to be. The urge to shield her from this shitstorm is visceral, instinctive. It’s the only thing I can do.

  Shoving aside my anger, I sit down and try to work for the next hour. I stare at a photo of Liv above my desk, one of the more modest pictures of her I’d taken at the Butterfly House.

  I told her once that I’d move heaven and earth to give her whatever she wanted. I still would. I’ll fight forever to give her all the things she never had as a child—love, safety, happiness, protection—but now there’s something else, a desperate urge to give her a marriage filled with more, to give her things she didn’t even know she wanted.

  To give her a life beyond what either of us has ever expected.

  Need boils inside me. I fumble for my phone again and push the speed dial button.

  “Dean?” Liv’s voice, breathless. “What time is it there?”

  “Uh… eleven, I think. Where are you?”

  “At home.”

  “Is your mother there?”

  “No, she’s out looking for another place to stay. She’ll be gone before you get back.”

  “She wants you to leave with her, get on the road again.”

  “I’ll never go anywhere with her, Dean, you know that.”

  “When did she find out about Sterling and Fox?”

  Her breath catches. “Yesterday, but how did you—”

  “She answered the phone when I called earlier.”

  “I’m sorry. I was at the grocery store.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she knows about the goddamned charge?”

  “I didn’t know she’d figured it out until this morning. What did she say to you, Dean?”

  Liv will have to deal with being married to a man whose reputation is ruined…

  My throat tightens. I can’t push any words past it.

  “Are you okay?” Liv asks.

  No, I’m not okay. I’m not okay five thousand miles away from my wife. I’m not okay with my career and reputation hanging in the balance. I’m not okay with being powerless.

  “Dean?”

  “I need to be with you. I need to do something.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Liv.”

  “I’m here.”

  “Tell me you know this is all bullshit. That Maggie Hamilton is lying.”

  “Of course she’s lying.”

  “You never thought it could be true?”

  “What?”

  “Not once did you wonder if it was possible?” My heart is suddenly pounding hard. “That I could have hit on a student?”

  “No, of course not. Why would you ask me such a thing?”

  “I’ve lied to you before.”

  “Oh, Dean, don’t.”

  “How can you just trust that I’m telling you the fucking truth?”


  “Because I know you, you ass! You’re the man who looked up the university rules before you asked me out.”

  “Years ago.”

  “So, what, you think I’m suddenly going to doubt you now? After all we’ve been through?”

  “It’s happened before.” I can’t stop, have to get it out. “Other female students, professors… some of them have come on to me over the years.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “Of course! You’re so handsome, successful, intelligent, so… you. Women have always fallen over themselves for you, and I’m not so naïve to think they don’t still flirt with you.”

  “I’ve never—”

  “Dean.” Her voice sharpens. “You don’t even have to say it.”

  “Why do you just believe me?”

  “Because I know you. I’m your girl, dammit.”

  Of course she is. That’s an unbreakable, rock-solid truth.

  “Dean, please. My mother has been trying in her insidious little way to convince me that there are cracks in our marriage, but—”

  “What the fuck? What has she said to you?”

  “Nothing that means anything. Nothing I believe. But this is why I knew you had to leave again. I need you to understand that I meant it when I said I could handle my mother alone. Just like I can handle talking to Ben Stafford. I know the truth. So don’t you dare lose your faith in me or in us.”

  “I never will, but I can’t stand this.” My chest feels like stone. “I know what you’ve been telling me. I can’t protect you from everything. I get it. But goddammit, Liv, I’m not supposed to be the one hurting you again.”

  “You’re not! The only thing hurting me is that we have to be apart.”

  “Then I’m coming home.”

  “Dean, you—”

  “I talked to Simon this morning about figuring out a way I can do the work from home. Maybe with one or two short trips to Altopascio. I’ll make it work. I can’t stay away from you until the end of July. I won’t.”

  My heart hammers as I wait for her response. She was the one who wanted me to leave in the first place, convinced it would be good for me, for us. And I’ve been okay with going on the dig—been grateful for the job, even—and the dating thing Liv and I are doing has admittedly been fun.