She tried telling herself it was because Colin was gone so much. He was less accessible than her. But she wasn’t sure she could believe that reasoning. So it had to be something else. If only she knew what.
She rubbed her temples, wishing her eyes didn’t burn so much.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Deanna looked up and saw Colin walking into the study. They’d barely spoken since his verbal attack in the park on Friday, and she sure didn’t want to speak to him now. But there were logistics to be worked out.
“When will you be back?” she asked.
“Thursday.” He closed the study door behind him and walked toward the desk. “Have you thought about what we talked about last week?”
She stood so she could glare directly at him and not have to look up. “We didn’t talk. You told me everything I’m doing wrong and then you left. That’s not a conversation.”
He studied her. “You’re right. So let’s talk now.”
“I’ve spent my life taking care of you and the girls and all I get is accusations and bitterness.”
“You’re expecting gratitude?”
Of course. She’d been a damn good mother and an excellent wife. Not that any of them appreciated her. “I don’t want to be your punching bag.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s extreme.”
“What would you call it? You say those things, and then you turn my children from me.” Her throat tightened, but she refused to show weakness. “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything left to give.”
“Then we have a problem, because I do want more. I want to be a part of things.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.
“What does that mean?”
“That means you lighten up a little. There are dozens of rules for everything the girls or I do. You want to be in complete control of where we go, what we wear, what we eat.”
“I cook dinner and make lunch. That’s not control.” The unfairness stung. “I keep a calendar of activities so I know who has to be driven where. Why are you twisting everything I do?”
She wanted to tell him if he was so unhappy, he could leave. Only she wasn’t ready for that. To be left.
“You’re making me sound like a monster and I’m not.”
His expression tightened. “Tonight at dinner, Audrey asked for a second helping of lasagna and you told her no.”
“She’d had enough.”
“How do you know? She told me later that she’d dropped her sandwich on the floor in the cafeteria, and one of the teachers had thrown it out. She didn’t have any money, so she couldn’t buy lunch. Your daughter had eaten only an apple for lunch and was starving.”
Deanna felt herself flush. “She should have said something.”
“And risk you yelling at her? It was easier to go hungry.”
“I don’t yell.” She didn’t yell. She spoke firmly and reasonably.
“You scare her. Hell, you scare me.”
“I wish that were true.”
He shook his head. “I know you mean well, Deanna, but you’re not easy. I was raised to think that as our children’s mother, you knew best. I don’t believe that anymore. I think there are issues from your past that—”
She slapped her hands on the desk and glared at him. “You leave my mother out of this, you hear me?”
He raised both arms in a gesture of surrender. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about it? We won’t. Here’s what I know. I’m spending more than half my life on the road. I’m missing my children growing up. I’m not here for them and I want to be. I understand that I make more money on the road, but we’re going to have to learn to get by on less. I want to be here. I want to go to games and performances. I want to take them to their various play dates. I want to meet their friends.”
Leaving her with what? Deanna wondered. He was trying to push her out of her own life.
“The second thing I want is to understand what you think of me. Of us.” His mouth twisted slightly. “I doubt you still love me and I’m not sure you even like me. I suspect you’re a lot more fond of our lifestyle than our marriage.” He shrugged. “I’d like to be wrong, but I don’t think so.”
He glanced past her, then returned his gaze to her face. “Was it ever about me or was I a means to an end?”
The insults burned to her bones, while fear held her in an icy grip.
“How dare you?” she said, her voice low and angry.
“Right. How dare I? It’s only my marriage, too.”
She wanted to throw something. To hit him and hurt him the way she’d been hurt. Hatred burned bright, but not bright enough to make her forget what divorce would mean.
“Don’t even think about coming back to our bed,” she told him.
Colin nodded, then actually smiled, even if it was ugly. “Sure. No sex. It’s not like that will be a change.”
With that he turned and walked away. Deanna stared after him for several seconds, before collapsing back into her chair and covering her face with her cracked and raw hands. She waited for the tears, but they didn’t come. She was too empty, too broken. Everything was wrong and she didn’t even know where to start to fix something that had become impossible to understand.
Chapter Six
THE BLACKBERRY ISLAND Inn’s restaurant looked out over the water. The lunch crowd was a combination of business people, tourists and ladies who lunched. Andi studied the menu, trying to decide between the soup and sandwich of the day and the quiche special.
Nina glanced up at her. “Seriously, you have to try the chicken salad on focaccia bread. It’s so good, it’s practically a religious experience.”
“She’s right,” Laura said, adjusting her reading glasses. “I swear I could eat a big ol’ tub of it every day. Of course then I’d get fat and Dr. H would lecture me on my blood pressure and cholesterol.” She put down the menu. “I do adore working for the man, but he is obsessed with health.”
Andi did her best to hold in her laughter. “It’s, um, probably an occupational hazard.”
“You’re right. I was offered a job with a dentist years ago, but I knew I couldn’t stand the sound of that drilling. We can see subatomic particles, but we can’t make quiet dental drills? We’re spending money on the wrong kind of research.”
Everyone chuckled at that. Andi leaned back in her chair and listened to the conversation flow around her. She’d survived her first day at work and was well into her second. She was out to lunch with the office and nursing staff. That morning, she’d left a half dozen burly men ripping up the inside of her house. There weren’t any more bats, she had hot water and basically life was pretty good.
Dawn, one of the nurses, picked up her iced tea. “I can’t believe you moved here on purpose,” she said. “I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve barely been out of the county. I used to dream of moving to Seattle.”
“Then you got married and had kids and now you’re stuck,” Misty said cheerfully. She was the office manager-bookkeeper and the person who kept everything running smoothly.
Laura sipped her diet soda. “She’s just complaining. Don’t listen to a word Dawn says. She loves it here on the island. We all do.”
“So you were all born here?” Andi asked.
“I moved here when I was five,” Laura said. “Which is practically the same thing.” She leaned toward Andi. “You know all the good men are married, right?”
“There are a few single guys around,” Nina said.
“Not many,” Laura said. “As for the tourists, if you see a guy who isn’t with a woman, don’t get excited. Chances are he’s not into your girly parts.”
Misty poked Laura in the arm. “Behave. Don’t frighten Andi her first week.”
“Yes, please d
on’t,” Andi said with a laugh. “We’ll want to wait and frighten me my second week. For what it’s worth, I’m okay with the lack of men. I suspected as much when I moved here. I had a bad breakup and I’m giving up on men. At least for the next decade.”
Although looking at Wade was a pleasant diversion. She wondered if her handsome contractor fell into the single category or not. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a casual way to ask.
“You’re so brave,” Nina told her. “Starting over in a new place. You bought that beautiful house and now you’re going to open your own practice.”
Andi smiled, knowing that description sounded a whole lot better than the truth, which was she’d been running away and this was where she’d ended up.
Misty sighed. “I agree with Nina. I could never do what you did. Dr. H said to let you know that we’ll help in any way we can with interviewing staff and helping you set up.”
Andi was speechless for a moment. “That’s very kind of all of you.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Obsessed with his son,” Laura said with a sigh.
“My son, the doctor,” they all said together, then broke into laughter.
Their server came by and took their orders. Andi decided to try the famous chicken salad sandwich.
“Have you started construction on the house?” Nina asked when the server had left. “That’s got to be a big job.”
“It is. Fortunately I don’t have to do any of it.” Andi shrugged. “I just walk through in the evening and pray for progress. They’re pretty much gutting each floor.”
“You’re going to have your practice there?” Nina asked.
“On the ground floor. The plans are finalized. Wade showed them to me on Saturday.”
“Oooh, Wade.” Laura pretended to fan herself. “He’s so hot.”
“And a little young for you,” Misty reminded her.
“Honey, I’m just looking, although if he offered a taste, I wouldn’t say no.”
Andi felt her eyes widen. “He’s popular, then?”
“He’s practically a god,” Dawn admitted. “He and I went to school together. I had a crush on him from the time I was twelve. He never looked at me.”
“His loss,” Nina told her.
“I wish that were true. He’s a good guy.”
“Love his ass,” Laura said, then glanced at Andi. “Have you seen it?”
“I, uh, hadn’t really noticed.”
“You need to. And just think. It’ll be there at the end of every day. You’re a lucky woman.”
Andi didn’t know what to say to that, which turned out to be a good thing because she’d suddenly had a moment of inspiration. “What does his wife think about all the women around here ogling her husband?”
The other four women glanced at each other. Misty raised her eyebrows. “He’s not married.”
“His wife died,” Nina said. “Cancer. It was very sad.”
“He has a daughter,” Dawn added. “She’s twelve. Carrie. A real sweetie. She and my daughter sometimes hang out, although her real best friend is Madison Phillips. The Phillips family lives next door to you.”
There was another moment of the women looking at each other, followed by a second of silence.
“I’ll say it,” Laura announced. “Have you met Deanna Phillips? She owns the house beside yours. She’s a complete and total bitch.”
“I met Boston.” Andi quickly calculated the relationship. “She would be Wade’s sister-in-law and Zeke’s wife? Do I have that right?”
“You got it,” Nina told her. “And I’m not sure I agree that Deanna’s a bitch. She’s...intense.”
“Sanctimonious, you mean,” Laura said. “Those poor kids.”
All Andi knew was that Deanna had been standing on her porch a couple of days ago, crying.
Dawn shook her head. “Deanna is one of those mothers who makes her own bread, only buys organic and doesn’t let her girls watch TV unless it’s educational. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she added quickly. “It’s just...”
Laura chimed in. “She’s always telling people how long that damn house has been in her family. She can’t have a regular garden. No. Hers is in perfect keeping with the perfect style of her perfect house.”
“Not that you’re bitter,” Nina said.
“I didn’t have a lot of money growing up,” Laura said. “I’m not going to say different. Deanna grew up just as poor as me, but to hear her talk these days you’d think she personally came over on the Mayflower. I worked with her once organizing a charity wine tour. I didn’t like her.”
“Really?” Misty said. “Because you can’t tell at all.”
“I haven’t met her,” Andi said, suddenly not anxious to do so. She was having trouble reconciling the information on Deanna with the sad woman standing alone in front of her house.
“She’ll be nice to you,” Nina told her. “She has five daughters, so she must be thrilled to have a pediatrician living next door.”
“Built-in customers,” Andi murmured. She cleared her throat. “I met Boston last week and we talked this weekend. She seemed nice.”
“She’s great,” Nina said.
“An artist,” Laura added. “I have two of her paintings. So beautiful. She makes most of her money from hand-painting fabric for designers all around the country. But her true calling is portraiture. She does lovely work. My husband had her do a painting of our two children about ten years ago. Boston was barely out of art school. That picture still hangs in our living room. It’s wonderful.”
Misty nodded. “She and Zeke have been together since they were kids. True love. It’s nice to see.” Her eyes darkened. “It’s too bad, what happened.”
Everyone went quiet. Laura looked up at Andi. “She and Zeke had a baby about a year ago. He died when he was six months old. It was a heart condition. She was holding him and he just went. I couldn’t believe it when I heard. They didn’t deserve to lose their little boy.”
“I didn’t know,” Andi murmured. While she’d never lost a child of her own, she’d been with parents who had. Their pain had stayed with her.
“We don’t usually gossip this much,” Nina said into the silence that followed.
“Yes, we do,” Laura told her. “And more. We’re being good because Andi doesn’t know us very well and we want her to like us. You should see us after a glass or two of wine. We’ll straighten that curly hair of yours.”
Andi reached up and pulled one of her curls. “I wouldn’t mind straight hair. When I was little, I read a book about a girl who got scarlet fever. They had to shave her head and her hair grew back curly. I used to ask my mom to take me to the hospital so I could find someone with scarlet fever and get their germs. I was hoping my hair would grow in straight.”
Laura slowly shook her head. “I can’t decide if that’s the sweetest story I’ve ever heard or the saddest. Either way, it’s good to know you’re just as crazy as the rest of us.”
“Why would I be spared crazy?” Andi asked with a grin.
“Excellent point, honey. Excellent point.”
* * *
Andi arrived home at exactly five-fifteen in the afternoon. She might still be adjusting to island life, but she had to admit she was loving the work hours. She’d been home before five-thirty both days. She knew eventually there would be emergencies that kept her out later every now and then, but the pace of life was sure slower than in Seattle.
She parked in her driveway, next to a battered pickup truck. She recognized it from her meeting on Saturday morning and quickly checked her appearance in her rearview mirror. Not that there was much to do. It wasn’t as if she was going to suddenly start wearing more makeup.
She smoothed her hair and made sure none of the mascara
had migrated to under her eyes, then grabbed her purse and stepped out of her SUV. At least she’d showered and was dressed decently. The last time Wade had seen her, she’d been exhausted, scruffy and fleeing dive-bombing bats.
She walked up the stairs to her porch and went into the house. She needed to come up with a casual but charming greeting, she thought. Something funny that Wade would—
Andi came to a stop in the center of what had been the entryway and stared. She was pretty sure her mouth had dropped open, but she couldn’t confirm the reaction. The shock was too great.
She didn’t have a house anymore. There were outside walls and a staircase going to the second floor, yet little else remained.
All the interior walls were gone. There were still a few studs in place, probably to keep the second and third floor from collapsing. There were a few windows, she noted, wondering if she should be grateful. She could see clear back through what had been the kitchen. The flooring was gone, as well.
“Don’t panic.”
She heard Wade before she saw him. He came around from behind the stairs and grinned.
“I swear, it’s going to be fine.”
“I think I’m more likely to faint than panic,” Andi admitted. “I can’t believe how much you got done in a day.”
“Isn’t it great? All our other jobs got delayed for one reason or another. Our entire team was here doing demo.”
“Lucky me.”
She was too shocked to do much more than take in his long legs and broad shoulders. The man looked good in jeans, she thought absently, telling herself she would appreciate his easy good looks later. When her heart had started beating again.
“I feel violated,” she admitted. That morning, she’d had a house. Now there was little more than a frame. Where did it go?
He put his hand on her arm. “Think of it as a good thing. The sooner everything is gone, the sooner we can get it put back together. Isn’t there a medical way for you to relate?”
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