“Sorry,” she whispered, feeling like a chastised child.
The board games had mainly been purchased for the kids and their friends. Madeline was ashamed she’d never sat at a table and played the games with Russ and Ariel. As it turned out, Ariel was a world champion at Candyland, Chutes and Ladders and even Sorry!
“She has to be cheating,” Russ complained.
“Am not! You’re just a sorry loser,” Ariel charged back.
“All right, you two,” Madeline refereed. “No one likes a ‘sore’ loser, Russ.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said contrite, but then stuck his tongue out at his sister.
“Mommy, are you going to help us put up Christmas decorations?”
“What?” Madeline’s gaze cut over to her husband. It was his turn to look apologetic.
“Uh, yeah. I told the staff not to bother with the decorations this morning. I figured we would put them up ourselves,” Russell said.
“Daddy says tomorrow we can even go pick out our own tree,” Russ added.
“But we order our tree every year from Mountain Star Tree Farm.” Madeline noted how quickly the children’s faces fell after that announcement and she resented being cast as the party pooper.
Russell cleared his throat. “I just thought it would be a lot more fun if we all went and selected a tree as a family.”
Madeline crossed her arms and glared. “You did, did you? And what do you know about picking out Christmas trees?” She shouldn’t have snapped, she realized. The children’s gazes darted between their parents while Russell’s jaw tightened.
“I just don’t see the point of having everything done for us. It wouldn’t hurt to get our hands dirty every once in a while,” he said.
“Spoken like man born with a silver spoon in his mouth.”
Fire lit behind his narrowed gaze but he managed to keep his voice cool and under control. “The sarcasm is getting old.” He put his arms around the kids. “C’mon. Let’s go back outside and play some more touch football. We’ll do the decorations after dinner,” Russell said.
“Are we still going to shop for our tree tomorrow?” Ariel asked.
Russell’s eyes traveled back to Madeline. “That’s up to your mother.”
Ariel and Russell rushed to Madeline’s side with wide-eyed eagerness. “Can we, Momma? Can we?”
One look into their faces and there was no way she was going to deny them anything and perhaps leaving the decision to her was Russell’s way of letting her come out looking like a hero instead of the bad mother.
“Of course we can,” she said.
Russ and Ariel erupted into cheers and even took turns planting kisses on her upturned cheek before running out of the room.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” he announced to their retreating backs and then lingered in the dining room.
A few seconds ticked in silence, before Madeline blurted out, “I’m sorry.” She swallowed the painful lump in her throat and continued, “It’s really hard for me to get used to this whole…thing. They don’t seem to have a problem with it, but…”
“I understand,” he said. “It’s hard for me, too.”
Her anger deflated. In that moment, she realized she needed to figure out some way to let the past stay in the past; if not for her, at least for the children’s sake.
“Truce?” he asked.
Tears stung Madeline’s eyes. She blinked them away and arrived at a decision she prayed she wouldn’t regret. “Truce.”
Chapter 14
Russell fell deeper in love every time his daughter made her Woody Woodpecker laugh. After a day of frolicking in the winter cold, whooping everyone in board games and now leading the family in off-tuned Christmas carols, Ariel’s laughter infected everyone.
There were a few moments, fleeting ones, when Russell experienced a strong sense of déjà vu. Stringing up lights, hanging up wreaths and pinning up the occasional mistletoe. During those moments, a warm glow would spread throughout his body and deliver an unexplainable peace. Then in the next second, it was gone.
“Can I help put this one up over there, Daddy?” Ariel asked, referring to a shimmering multicolored garland.
“You sure can,” he said, and picked her up. She released another hearty laugh as he set her on his broad shoulders. All the while, he was more than aware of how Madeline’s gaze followed him.
To his great relief their “truce” remained in effect and as the evening progressed, he watched her loosen up, laugh and even sing—though she was the main person off-key. She was adorable really, wheeling around the room, taping holiday cards along the fireplace and even participating in some silent competition with Russ on who could eat the most mini candy canes.
“Mommy, can we do this every Christmas?” Russ asked, setting out nutcrackers that were as tall as he was around the room.
“Of course we can,” she said, pinching his cheeks.
Russell smiled and took great pride for having such a beautiful family. How could he have ever taken such a thing for granted? Again this morning he had to fight off two more advances from women who worked in his home under threat of termination. Who had ever heard of sexual harassment from one’s employees? he wondered.
At this point, he’d drawn the conclusion that in his previous life he had either a serious sex or mental problem. No wonder Madeline hated him.
The one question that played over in his head was also the one he feared to give voice to. Did Madeline ever step outside of the marriage? Not just in the six years since he’d been missing, but while they were together. Who did she turn to when she couldn’t turn to him?
“What do you say we light the fireplace and roast some marshmallows and make some s’mores?”
“Yea!” the children cheered.
Madeline laughed, shaking her head. “What do you know about making s’mores?”
“Aw.” He waved off the question. “Used to make them all the time at camp.” He stopped when he realized what he’d said and then looked at his wife.
“You used to go to camp?”
“I-I must have.” He stopped and tried to remember, but all he got was the beginnings of a headache.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’ll all come back to you in time.”
He fluttered a half smile and wished for the first time that he could pick and choose which memories to recall.
The family strolled off down the long hallway to go raid the kitchen cabinets.
“Daddy, are we going to decorate the whole house?” Ariel asked from her high perch on his shoulders.
Russell glanced around thinking it would take the whole Christmas season to decorate the entire house. “We could definitely give it a try.”
Madeline and Russ laughed from behind them. He turned to see his son had climbed into his mother’s lap and was manning the electric-power controls in time to jump out of the way before being run over.
“Hey,” he shouted, feigning outrage. “You two better slow down before I give you a ticket.”
“I wanna ride,” Ariel complained.
Russell pretended that being dumped by his daughter didn’t hurt a bit, but his disappointment was short lived when Russ hopped out of his mother’s lap to jump on his back.
When they reached the main kitchen, Russell gave a low impressive whistle at the sheer size of the place. “Is this a kitchen or a mess hall?”
“Very funny,” Madeline commented, and then watched as the children tore into the stainless steel cabinets.
“I found the marshmallows!” Ariel declared.
“I got the graham crackers!” Russ announced proudly.
“And I have the chocolate,” Madeline said, pulling out a bottle of Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup. Her shoulders shrank after her prideful boast beneath everyone’s questioning stare. “What? Everything tastes better with chocolate.”
“Really?” Russell’s brows shot up as he gave her a flirtatious wink and extracted the bottle from her hands, their
fingertips brushing. “I’m going to have to try and remember that.”
“But, Daddy, you can’t remember anything because of your annameseah.”
Russell and Madeline laughed and turned to make their trek back to the living room. However, the moment Madeline and Russell crossed the wide archway, Ariel screamed and bounced excitedly on her toes.
“Uh-oh. You’re under the mistletoe,” she chanted.
Russ just shook his head.
“You know what that means, Daddy. You gotta kiss Mommy.”
Russell looked down at his wife. Madeline looked as if she would rather superglue her lips to fly paper. But ignoring her hands-off body language, Russell shrugged. “Rules are rules.”
He leaned over, fascinated by how wide her eyes rounded. Stopping just inches from her lips, he whispered, “You don’t mind, do you?”
Truth be told, he was kissing her regardless of the answer; but it was still nice to see the slight shake of her head. A small smile curled into place, but disappeared when his lips brushed against hers. There was a sweet, exquisiteness to her lips. The same as it had been at his brother’s house when he wanted to lose himself in the very taste of her.
Ariel erupted into giggle, and when Russell turned to look at the kids, Russ just shook his head as if he didn’t get the whole kissing thing.
Russell laughed, but when he turned back to see how Madeline reacted to the kiss, she’d already hit the forward button on her chair to escape the mistletoe or him or maybe both.
Before long, a nice fire crackled in the fireplace and skewered marshmallows were being roasted, sandwiched and dipped in chocolate syrup. Everyone was propped on floor pillows—Madeline included—giggling, laughing and generally enjoying the winter night until tiny mouths yawned and little eyelids drooped with sleep.
Smiling, Russell watched his children’s angelic faces as they drifted off to dreamland.
“They’re precious, aren’t they?” Madeline whispered.
He nodded. “I’ve missed so much,” he replied. “Lost so much.” His fingers drifted down the side of Ariel’s chubby cheeks.
Empathy tugged at Madeline’s soul and tears welled behind her eyes. The constant conflicting emotions grew exhausting and she wondered just how long she would be able to take it.
“You really have done a wonderful job with them,” Russell said, voice cracking. “They’re smart, love to laugh and play. They’re just so full of life.”
“They also seem to like you a lot,” she said, attempting to salve his pain.
His short smile looked more like a tic. “You’re not too happy about that.”
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
“Maybe we should get these two in bed.” He stood and helped Madeline into her chair. Next, he gently scooped Ariel off the floor and placed her in her mother’s arms.
Madeline hit the forward button on her chair while, Russell extracted Russ from the floor and then followed her to the service elevator. Upstairs they split up to take the kids to their separate bedrooms.
Russ’s head had barely touched the pillow when his eyes fluttered open and a large yawn stretched his mouth. “Daddy?”
In the glow of the nightlight, Russell gazed down at his son. “Yeah, sport?”
“You’re going to be here in the morning, right? You’re not going to forget about us again, are you?”
Tears rolled from Russell’s eyes before he had a chance to stop them, but he still managed a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here and I’m never going to forget you again.”
Russ smiled and curled into his pillow. “’Night, dad.”
“Good night, son.” Russell leaned forward and brushed a kiss against the boy’s temple. In the next second, his son was fast asleep and he was content to just watch him throughout the night.
After a while, Madeline filled the doorway. The wheelchair gone, but the crutches returned.
“Needed to stretch my legs,” she whispered, and then nodded at Russ. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Russell fluttered one last smile down at his son and then finally stood and left the room. In the hallway, a deafening silence enveloped them.
It wasn’t that Russell didn’t have anything to say. Truth of the matter was that he had too much to say, too many questions, like: was there any hope in saving their marriage? Could she ever truly forgive and forget?
Of course, he had an advantage on the forgetting part.
However, he was sure talking about any of the issues between them would destroy their fragile truce. Talking was bad. Now, kissing, that was another story all together. His gaze lowered to her full lips and the temperature in the house jumped a good fifty degrees.
“Well,” she said, “I better go to bed, too.”
An instant picture of Madeline draped across satin sheets filled his head and he didn’t know whether the image was a memory or a fantasy. “Then, I guess I should say good-night,” he said as a statement, but it sounded more like a question to his ears.
Madeline nodded but she made no move toward the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. She looked as though she wanted to tell him something.
“Do you need any help?” he asked lamely.
She shook her head and drew a deep breath. “I want to thank you,” she finally blurted out. “For today. The kids really had a nice time.”
He nodded while he tried to commit every detail of her face to memory.
“I had a nice time,” she added.
A small ripple of laughter passed his lips. “That must have been real hard for you to say.”
She smiled. “Painful.” Finally, she turned and headed toward her bedroom.
He followed, not sure why, but glad that she didn’t question him. At the doorway, she faced him, undoubtedly to say good-night. However, he robbed her of the chance when he surprised her with a kiss. It was probably the wrong thing to do, but he couldn’t help himself. The taste of her had lingered on his lips since the mistletoe incident and he knew if he’d asked to kiss her again, the answer would’ve been no.
The crutches fell from her arms and hit the floor with a loud bang while Madeline leaned into him with an audible sigh. The important thing was that she kissed him back with a hunger that drained what little logic he had left in his head.
Whatever her reasons, he wasn’t going to question them. Instead, he scooped his wife into his arms and carried her over to the bed—their lips never parting once. The mattress dipped beneath their combined weight. Russell remained careful with her injured leg as he hovered above her. Like before, he couldn’t get enough.
“Oh, God,” she breathed the moment she came up for air.
When Russell’s lips skimmed the column of her neck, she quivered in his arms.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she panted.
“Why not?” he asked, sucking on her lower earlobe. “We’re married.” His hands roamed up her soft, quivering body. He carefully pressed his throbbing erection against her inner thigh to let her know just how much he wanted her.
Instead of turning her on, she squirmed away from him. “No,” she groaned. “It’s not…it’s not that simple,” she whispered.
“Sure it is.” He kissed her again to show her just how easy it was.
As he’d hoped, she returned his kisses and allowed his hands to dip beneath her satin top and her bra. He moaned at the feel of her marbleized nipples.
“I can’t. Please…”
Convinced he could still change her mind, Russell shifted his weight and lowered his head to feast on her glorious breasts. The first pleasant surprise was that they were larger than her clothes portrayed; the second surprise was how sweet the light dust of body powder she’d used tasted.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, arching her back and filling his mouth even more. “What am I doing?”
Russell’s greedy mouth moved to the other breast.
“Please…please.”
Russell groaned as he pulled away from hi
s new best friends to look her in the eye. “I won’t make love to you, if you don’t want me to,” he promised. “But I want to make you feel good.” His hand drifted to the pants of her pajamas. Their lips met again. “Let me make you feel good.” His fingers graze the vee of curls between her legs. “Will you let me do that?”
“Mommy?”
Russell jerked his hand back.
Madeline yanked her pajama top down.
Both heads swiveled toward the door.
Ariel stood in the doorway, hugging a teddy bear and staring wide-eyed at the bed. “Daddy, what are you doing to Mommy?”
Chapter 15
First thing Monday morning at the House of Madeline, Lysandra stared open mouthed at her cousin. “You slept with him?”
“No. I didn’t sleep with him,” Madeline hissed, crouched over her desk and then straightened in her chair.
“You mean, you would have if Ariel hadn’t interrupted?”
“No,” she insisted with a little less vigor.
Lysandra crossed her arms as one brow stretched high.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Madeline threatened. “I was not going to sleep with him. I was just…I don’t know.” She shook her head while Saturday night replayed in her head. She was still in control of the situation with Russell, wasn’t she?
“Why don’t you just admit you’re attracted to the guy? I mean, sheesh. He is your husband.”
“Because any day now his memory is going to come back and he’s going to go right back to being the same old asshole. I’d rather cut my losses and get out now,” Madeline said.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Lysandra shrugged. “He definitely doesn’t seem like the same guy. It’s just as likely what he’s been through in the last six years has changed him apparently for the better.”
“You believe that?”
“Why not? He returned from the dead, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know why I talk to you about this stuff.” Madeline feigned interest in the budget spreadsheets on her desk.
“It’s either me or your mother,” her cousin said, and then laughed. “Speaking of which, where is she?”
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