Breakup in a Small Town

by Kristina Knight

  At first glance, the plain sheath dress looked ordinary. But when Jenny focused, she saw varying hues of white and ivory that created a swirling effect. It was perfect for Mara. Both dresses were just...perfect. Pain pricked Jenny’s heart. Her friends were in the throes of passionate affairs, while she was...ending something that she’d thought would last forever. It was all just too much.

  “You don’t think it’s too—” Mara twisted to the side, putting her hand over her belly “—young looking? I know I’m not fat, but this baby bump is never going to go completely away.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Jenny said. “You’re both just so beautiful.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Mara sat beside her on the overstuffed sofa, crumpling the beautiful dress.

  “Don’t ruin that gown.” Jenny tried to push her back to her feet, but Mara wouldn’t budge. “I’m fine, really.”

  “People who are fine don’t look like they’re about to vomit at the sight of two women in wedding dresses,” Savannah added, sitting on her other side.

  “Or like they want to burn every wedding dress in this place,” Mara said. The comment earned a raised eyebrow from the clerk.

  “I’m not going to burn this place down, and I’m not going to throw up.”

  “Then what?” Savannah and Mara spoke in unison, then laughed. They had become a sisterly unit, along with Mara’s teenage sister, Amanda. While Jenny had been desperately trying to hold her life together, their lives were falling into place like clockwork.

  God, was she jealous? Under the anger she was trying desperately to hold on to, did she not want her friends to be happy? Sure, she and Adam had eloped, but she’d suggested it. Their parents hadn’t been thrilled when they announced their plans, but they’d fallen in line. Jenny hadn’t wanted her mother’s version of a Slippery Rock society wedding, and at the time, she and Adam hadn’t had any money. It seemed much easier to cross the Arkansas border and elope. And now, seeing her friends ready to celebrate their weddings, she couldn’t even manage a supportive smile without automatically going to her own shortcomings? How pathetic could she be?

  “Adam sent me flowers,” she said miserably. It was more than the flowers. It was another symptom of what was wrong between the two of them.

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Mara cocked her head to the side.

  “A dozen red roses and a lily bouquet. They’re currently competing for the right to perfume the entire Buchanan warehouse and cabinet shop.” Jenny sighed. “And I’m being a complete bitch about it, I know. Today is about finding the two of you the perfect dresses, not complaining about the mess my relationship is in.”

  Mara and Savannah exchanged a look. “We’re going to need to change to get to the bottom of this,” Savannah said.

  “And we’ll need coffee,” Jenny said, feeling tired all the way to her bones.

  Savannah studied Jenny for a long moment. “Nope, that expression calls for some kind of frothy, decadent, highly alcoholic beverage. Slippery Slope?” she asked, naming the local bar, where she’d been a waitress before leaving town for Los Angeles.

  “Merle isn’t going to be happy to see us,” Mara said, mentioning the curmudgeonly but totally loveable bar owner.

  “Merle is always happy to see his favorite ex-waitress.” Savannah checked her watch. “We’ve got another ninety minutes before school releases. Plenty of time to sob into a drink and still get Frankie and Garrett from school.”

  Jenny sighed again. “Adam is walking them home today.”

  “Perfect. We’ll have time for two drinks, then.”

  Twenty minutes later, the three of them slid into a side booth at the Slippery Slope. Juanita, the waitress, laughed when they ordered margaritas. “Merle’s going to have to break out the blender. He just decided enough of the summer traffic had died down that he could go back to beers and shots.”

  “Girl talk requires more than tequila and Miller Lite,” Mara said.

  Juanita winked. “It’ll do him some good to get out of the beer rut, anyway.”

  When she was gone, Mara focused her attention on Jenny, who tried to focus on tearing a napkin from the dispenser against the wall into tiny pieces. “And?”

  “I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” And she wasn’t going to put her relationship issues on the shoulders of her best friends. Not when they were both so happy. Friends didn’t bring friends down.

  “Because Adam sent you flowers?”

  “Because of a lot of things.” She’d started this by not keeping it together while Savannah and Mara were trying on their wedding dresses. Time to retreat, let them get back to being happy and in love. Except she’d made this mess by not talking about what she wanted. Maybe talking to Mara and Savannah would help her figure out what it was she did want.

  “He’s been so withdrawn since he came home. Since he woke up in the hospital, actually.” She pulled another napkin from the dispenser, needing something to do with her hands so they wouldn’t shake. “We had a fight the other day, about laundry of all things, and I told him if he was going to keep moping around the house instead of working on getting better, he could move out.”

  Savannah’s jaw dropped. “You asked Adam to move out?”

  Jenny shrugged. This was a mistake. Taking time out of her day to support Mara and Savannah was one thing. Crying on their shoulders was something else entirely. She would not cry over Adam, not now. Jenny focused on the mass of torn paper and began pushing the pieces into little piles in the middle of the table.

  “But you and Adam are...you and Adam. You’ve always been together,” said Mara.

  No, they weren’t together. Hadn’t been since the tornado. “He’s different since the accident, or maybe I am. He sits in the living room, staring out at the world most days. Doesn’t do his physical therapy, lies to the doctors about his progress, won’t consider options the doctors suggest. And while he’s staring out the window, I’m running the business, taking care of the boys and the house, keeping his parents from turning Buchanan’s back into the small cabinet shop they built before retirement. I asked him to do a load of laundry. He called his mom to clean up after the colors ran together.”

  Savannah blinked. Mara just stared.

  “And so he sent you flowers to apologize for all of that?” Mara asked.

  “I think so. I’m not really sure—the card just read ‘Adam.’ No note.” She pushed the piles into one big heap. “The flowers are fine, but it’s just another symptom of what’s wrong between us.”

  “And what’s wrong?” Savannah tapped the back of Jenny’s hand. “He isn’t pulling his weight, I get that. But what’s really wrong, Jen?”

  “Everything.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, Savannah and Mara reached across the table, stilling her hands with theirs. She tried to smile, but couldn’t. “Until the tornado and his injury, he was still high-school Adam. Hanging out, playing with the boys but not disciplining them. I did that. And I did the grocery shopping and cooking, and cleaned up after everyone.” Jenny tried to slow her words, but now that she was talking, it was as if they couldn’t get out fast enough. “And I worked at the shop. I didn’t complain, not about any of it. I—I didn’t care that he decided our vacations, and I liked helping him figure out how to turn Buchanan’s into something bigger. I liked doing the boys’ laundry and making their lunches. I liked our life.” She took a breath. “Then he got hurt, and I had all that plus trips to the hospital, and trying to calm frightened children. And his parents swooped in and started trying to turn our life into their life. And he’s home now, but nothing is the way it was. And even if it could be, I don’t think I want it to be like that anymore. I don’t want to be Nancy Buchanan. I want...” Jenny considered her next words carefully. She wanted the old, happy Adam back, but she d
idn’t want him to just be the happy-go-lucky guy who played with their children and thought a road trip to a NASCAR race was the height of adventure.

  “I want more,” she said, “and I know that sounds heartless.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with supporting the person you love.” Savannah clasped her hands on the table. “And none of that sounds heartless.”

  Juanita brought their drinks. “Merle says if you want refills, find another bar. But don’t worry, I know how to work the blender better than he does. Anything else?”

  Mara shook her head.

  “Then I’ll check back in a bit. You girls have a good afternoon.” The older woman returned to the bar, where she began arranging glasses. Jenny realized they were the only patrons. At least no one would overhear her.

  “What if that person doesn’t support me back?”

  Mara shook her head. “Adam loves you. He’s head over heels, always has been.”

  “But he never asks what I want, what I need. The flowers are proof of that.”

  “How? They’re flowers.”

  “I don’t like cut flowers. Give me a planter or a package of seeds. Gardening is my thing, not watching cut flowers go limp. I didn’t carry cut flowers at our wedding, I’ve never ordered flowers for either of our mothers or for our house, and—” she sipped her drink, needing the false courage the tequila offered “—roses are his mother’s favorite flowers. Lilies are my mom’s. He didn’t know what I’d like, so he sent me things our mothers would like.”

  “Jenny.” Mara reached across the table. “Maybe he—”

  “He doesn’t know me. I’ve been married to him for nine years. We dated all through high school. My husband doesn’t know me, and rather than attempting to get to know me, he’s trying to turn me into either my mom or his. I don’t want to be his mother, and I sure as hell don’t want to be mine.” That was the crux of the problem. Jenny knew she’d let Adam make a lot of the decisions in their marriage, but there were things he should know about her.

  Like the fact that her favorite flowers were daisies, and she preferred them in planters, not vases.

  “Have you tried talking to him?” Savannah picked up her drink.

  “You mean before I melted down over the laundry?” Jenny grunted. “Not really.” She’d yelled at him. Made a few accusations. But actually talking about their problems? It all seemed so selfish—as if her feelings of being overwhelmed were so much more significant than the brain injury he was dealing with. “And now I’m not sure I should, because I asked him to move out, which he did.” Jenny wanted to pull the words back into her mouth.

  Savannah set her glass down, hard. “Adam moved out?”

  Jenny lifted her drink to her lips, needing a moment to decide just how to deal with the bomb she’d dropped. Hell, maybe she should go with it. Telling Savannah and Mara wasn’t the same as putting more strain and stress on Adam’s shoulders.

  “Technically, he moved into his parents’ RV. Which is now parked in our driveway. He thinks, until we decide exactly what we’re doing, it will be easier this way. You know, we won’t have his parents or mine asking questions. No gossip around town. Easier for the boys, who haven’t even realized he’s living in the trailer and not the house.”

  “How are his parents in the dark when it’s their RV?” Mara asked. She snagged a peanut from the bowl on the table, then sipped her drink.

  “He told them we were going on a vacation. It’s only been a day, so no one is asking questions.” She would know if their neighbor, Mrs. Hess, was suspicious about the RV in the drive. The older woman would have been on the phone with Nancy immediately, and Jenny’s morning would have been spent talking about some fantasy road trip instead of finalizing the numbers for the contract with the Springfield distributor.

  “Do you want him to move out? I mean, farther than the RV?” Mara finished her drink and signaled Juanita for another round.

  She did. Definitely. Probably. God, why did this have to be so hard? If he’d just not kissed her, everything would be fine. Okay, maybe not fine, but she wouldn’t be so wishy-washy about it. But he had kissed her, and that brought back a lot of those old, happy, sexy feelings. Feelings that made her want to just go back to the way things had been. Her carrying the load while Adam lived his life.

  Then there were the flowers, which weren’t what she wanted, but wasn’t the thought behind them the important part? So he’d gotten the format wrong; at least he’d thought about her.

  “He made me breakfast this morning, and that was sweet. But he sent me flowers that are so not me it’s not even funny.” Jenny sighed. She pushed her glass away. She didn’t need alcohol to make this decision for her. She didn’t need alcohol to numb the pain that Adam not appreciating all the things she did for him caused. She needed to feel the pain, and maybe then she would be able to make the changes to her life that would really matter. Changes like asking for what she wanted. Changes like having a career that she enjoyed and was good at.

  Changes like having a man in her life who enjoyed not only her body, but her mind, and who took her wants and needs into consideration, too.

  “He’s trying. I’ve been waiting for him to start living again since that first day he woke up in the hospital. He walked the kids to school yesterday and this morning, and I know that’s great for the boys, but that’s my job. What happens to them when he stops paying attention to them again?” And what would happen to her? God, she didn’t think she could take another round of Adam’s cold shoulder treatment.

  “What if this is the wake-up call he’s needed—you know, so that he can fully appreciate what you’re bringing to the table?” Savannah asked. It was the question Jenny had been struggling with from the moment he’d kissed her the night before.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mara shook her head. “No—”

  “Mara,” Savannah began, but she continued talking.

  “Just no. Adam has been one of my best friends since we were kids. I love him like a brother. But being with James, having Zeke... Loving someone isn’t only about what he or she can do for you. It’s about what you do for each other, putting their needs above your own. You have to be strong, Jenny. You have to know what you want, and you have to know what you’re willing to give up to get it.”

  Give up. Jenny swallowed. She had to give him up, no matter how sweet he was being right now. This could all be an act. Making her breakfast, sending her flowers. Walking the kids to school a couple times. That kiss in the backyard. Those could all only be ways to get her to give in one more time. And then what? She couldn’t go back to doing everything for Adam, and getting nothing in return. She had to let him go, for her own peace of mind. She released the breath she’d been holding.

  “Jenny?” Savannah asked, her voice quiet in the still bar.

  “We’re right here with you,” Mara added.

  Tears welled behind her eyelids, but Jenny refused to let them fall. She wouldn’t cry for Adam. She wouldn’t cry for herself. She had friends. Two boys depending on her. A business to save. She would be strong. “I love Adam, but I can’t stay married to a man who doesn’t value me. My opinion. My dreams, my plans. I just can’t.”

  Mara put her hand over Jenny’s, and then Savannah added hers to the pile. “What can we do?” they asked in unison.

  Jenny offered a wan smile. “If he sends me flowers again, remind me that I like them planted and not cut.” And if he tried to kiss her again, well, she just wouldn’t let that happen. No more kisses from Adam Buchanan. They were too dangerous.

  * * *

  ADAM AND THE boys rolled into the driveway at three thirty to find a classic Corvette with California plates parked beside the RV.

  “Uncle Aiden,” the boys said, and raced ahead of Adam. He heard chattering and laughter from the backyard, but didn’t want to be in a w
heelchair the first time his twin saw him postepilepsy. Adam left the chair at the side of the house and walked around the corner.

  There, sitting at Jenny’s slate-and-iron patio table, was a man who looked almost exactly like him. Same hair, same stubble, although Aiden’s was probably more of a fashion statement than laziness. Or not being allowed to use a razor for fear of cutting his throat if a seizure hit. There were enough differences that they weren’t considered identical, though. Where Adam’s eyes were green, Aiden’s were more hazel. Adam had the scar on his neck from the car accident in high school, Aiden had a broken nose from going after the opposing team’s defensive back without his helmet on. But the basics were all there—six foot two inches tall, muscular build, tanned skin.

  “Hey,” Adam said.

  “Hey,” Aiden returned. “No chair?”

  Adam shrugged. “It’s more of a guideline than a requirement.” Although his knee was already protesting at the short walk around the corner. Or maybe that was from the twenty minutes he’d managed on the recumbent bike at PT.

  “Either way.” Aiden stood, hefting Garrett with him. The little boy giggled when he lifted him into the air, then swooped him back to ground level.

  “Guys, there’s string cheese in the fridge. Go grab a snack while I help Aiden unpack.”

  Once they had disappeared through the back door, Adam turned to Aiden. “Bags?”

  His brother shook his head. “I’m staying at the B and B. You don’t need me underfoot.”

  Actually, Adam had been thinking that the company might ease some of the strain between him and Jenny. Force them to look on the brighter side of things instead of dwelling in the past. He knew that was a chickenshit way of dealing with the problems in their marriage, but wouldn’t they both be better off if they forgot all that stuff and started fresh?

  “We have plenty of room.”

  “And I’m not used to living with anyone else. It’ll be better this way. You’ll be sick of me after our first day of working together, anyway. This way, we can both have our space.”