Big Girls Don't Cry

by Brenda Novak

“You’re saying accountants—and scientists—are boring?”

  “Not boring, exactly. Just preoccupied with the minutiae of life.”

  Isaac couldn’t help being slightly offended. “Someone needs to worry about the details.”

  “I guess. Anyway, there’s hope for you. You’re more of a jack-of-all-trades, right? Scientist, computer type and novelist.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Right.”

  “What do you want to know about small-town couples and their money?” she asked.

  Still tempted to defend scientists, Isaac struggled to regain his focus. “Are married couples from rural areas really more traditional in the way they handle their income?” he asked. “Or is that changing? For instance, do you and your husband have joint bank accounts or separates ones?”

  “We have a household account that’s joint. My husband also has an account of his own.”

  “Why did you choose that arrangement?” Isaac guessed the idea had originated with Keith, but he was curious to know why she’d gone along with it.

  “He likes to invest anything we have left over. He works hard, so I don’t begrudge him that. It doesn’t amount to much, anyway. We go over the numbers all the time. Especially recently. I’ve been wanting to buy this farm, and…well…” Her bottom lip came out in a quick pout that reminded him once again of her youngest daughter. “Let’s just say we’ve been talking a lot about money.”

  “I would think his having his own account would be atypical of couples from around here,” he said, hoping for more details.

  “It probably is. My parents have always shared everything. But like I said, Keith transfers most of the money over to our household account, anyway. We have bills to pay, you know?”

  “So you never actually see his paycheck?”

  “It’s on automatic deposit. But I know how much he makes.”

  “How?”

  “He tells me.”

  Right. “What about tax returns? Do you file jointly?”

  She grimaced. “You want to hear about my tax returns?”

  “It’s all part of the various…styles of marriage I’m studying.”

  “We file separately.”

  Of course they did.

  “But only because a tax consultant told Keith we could save a lot of money that way,” she added.

  “That isn’t true for most people,” Isaac couldn’t help pointing out.

  “It’s because of the types of investments he makes—or something like that,” she said. “I’m not really sure. I don’t like dealing with the IRS. I’m just glad Keith’s willing to handle it.”

  “Generous of him,” Isaac murmured.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He was beginning to understand how Keith had managed to keep some of the most obvious signs of his double life from becoming apparent to at least one wife. Reenie had married him before they’d had any money, so she didn’t expect a lot. Keith gave her enough to support the family, and she didn’t ask for more. Simply put, she trusted him. Isaac understood that. Keith came off as a great guy. Elizabeth trusted him, too. Until last week, Isaac had trusted him as well.

  Judy returned with Reenie’s soft drink. Reenie leaned back and didn’t speak again until the waitress was gone. “Anything else?” A devilish glint entered her eyes. “You might want to include a chapter on how couples around here do their laundry.”

  He laughed and decided to back off anything to do with Keith, at least for the moment. “Isabella brought me a cookie earlier.”

  “I know.”

  “She mentioned you have a brother who can’t walk.”

  Reenie straightened her knife, spoon and fork neatly on her place mat. “That’s true.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “You’ll probably be even sorrier when you find out who he is,” she said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Do you like football?”

  He slung an arm over the back of the booth. “Let’s see…I already have a couple strikes against me for the finance questions and my scientific background. If I want to walk away with my self-esteem intact, I’m guessing yes is a good answer on this. I like football but—” he glanced over at the cowboy who used to be one of her students and let his smile broaden “—rodeo’s even better.”

  “I’d be willing to bet my life savings you’ve never even been to a rodeo,” she said.

  “I don’t look western enough?”

  She made a point of leaning over the end of the table to peer down at his loafers.

  “These are my city clothes,” he said. “I go into a phone booth when I want to become Rodeo Fan.”

  She laughed and he immediately realized he liked the sound of it. “Okay,” she said. “Maybe your book won’t be totally dry.”

  He tried not to feel gratified by her approval. “So who’s your brother and what’s his connection to football?”

  “Gabriel Holbrook. If you’re familiar with the NFL, you’ll know the connection.”

  Isaac had been about to take a drink. Now he put his glass down and leaned forward. “Gabe Holbrook, the famous quarterback who was paralyzed in a car accident several years ago?”

  “That’s him.”

  “Wow.” He moved his water glass in small circles on the table. “That must’ve been very difficult for everyone.”

  “It was.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Okay, for the most part. It took some time, but—” she tore the paper off her straw “—he seems to have made the adjustment to his new lifestyle.”

  “You said he lives around here?”

  She suddenly grew leery. “You’re not going to chase him down, looking for an autograph, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then. He has a cabin up in the mountains and a place in town. He coaches football at the high school.”

  “I read somewhere that Gabe Holbrook was marrying the woman who crashed into him. That’s not true, is it?”

  She took a sip of her drink, then propped her chin on one fist. “Actually, it is. They’re married already. No one thought it’d work out. Even I feared resentment would pop up at one point or another. But the marriage seems solid. They’re truly devoted to each other.”

  “Earlier you said your family has seen more public interest than most. Now I know what you were talking about.”

  The ice in her glass clinked as she stirred her Coke with her straw. “Actually, that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  Curiosity prompted Isaac to press her for an explanation, but it really wasn’t any of his business. He sobered as his thoughts returned to Keith and Elizabeth and the reason behind his visit. “According to Judy, you married young.”

  She shrugged. “I knew what I wanted.”

  “Do you ever regret it? Wish you’d waited? Chosen a different path?”

  “Of course not,” she responded. “You’ve seen my kids.”

  He wiped the condensation from his water glass. “Judy also said Keith travels a lot. That’s okay with you?”

  A hint of dissatisfaction showed in her expression, the same dissatisfaction he’d noted earlier, but she quickly masked it. “The travel’s an issue, but we’re dealing with it. When you love someone as much as I love Keith, you do what you can to accommodate their work schedule.”

  If she suspected that her husband was doing anything wrong, anything at all, she didn’t show it.

  “Is Keith usually home for the holidays?” Isaac didn’t remember Elizabeth complaining about Keith being gone for Christmas or Thanksgiving. But Isaac had been out of the country for much of the past three years. And his sister wasn’t the type to complain. She felt too grateful for her family.

  “Softscape pays him double to work on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. We usually need the money, so he often takes advantage of it. But he doesn’t work all three in the same year. He mixes it up, so he gets to be
with us for at least one or two of them.”

  Isaac was willing to bet he was with Elizabeth, Mica and Christopher for the others. Swallowing a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Is something wrong?” Reenie asked.

  Isaac met her gaze. He had to tell her. He couldn’t go on taking advantage of her friendliness and innocence. She wasn’t a woman who’d knowingly tempted a married man into an adulterous affair. She was as innocent as Elizabeth—a good mother, a devoted wife. “I’m afraid I have some bad—”

  “Here you go.” Judy approached with their dinners, and Isaac clamped his mouth shut.

  The waitress put their plates in front of them, gave him the steak sauce she’d been carrying in one of her apron pockets and asked if they wanted anything else. When they assured her they were all set, she moved on to another table.

  “What were you about to say?” Reenie asked as she cut into her chicken.

  Isaac stared down at his food. He wanted to get the truth out in the open. But now wasn’t the time. He needed to be more prepared to counter the devastation he was about to unleash. Besides, he owed it to Elizabeth to speak to her first. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Maybe you wanted to move on to how folks in this town clean their toilets,” she teased.

  For a moment, he was tempted to give in to her levity and simply enjoy their meal. She was attractive, easy to be around. But knowing what lay in store for her chased all good feelings away.

  “Why not tell me a little about your philosophy on divorce,” he said.

  She washed her food down with a drink of soda. “Simply put, I don’t believe in it.”

  “Sometimes it’s unavoidable,” he pointed out.

  “That’s true. But if you’ve got kids, you can’t give up too easily.”

  He’d dressed his baked potato. Now he pushed it around his plate.

  “That means if Keith did something wrong, you’d probably forgive him?”

  “If I could.”

  He cursed to himself. Elizabeth would probably answer the same way.

  “You’re not eating,” she said, pointing her fork toward his plate. “Is your steak too rare?”

  “Actually, it’s perfect. I just…I think I feel a migraine coming on.”

  “Oh boy.” Her eyes filled with concern. “Do you have any medication with you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then you’d better come back to the house with me. Keith gets migraines all the time. I know how to get rid of them. But it’s important to catch it early.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. He had a headache, but it wasn’t really a migraine. And he’d already learned what he wanted to know. Now he felt guilty for having lied in order to obtain the information. He hadn’t expected to admire Reenie so much, to genuinely like her. When he’d appeared at her door, he’d been acting in defense of his sister. “I think I’ll go over to the motel, maybe try and get some sleep.”

  “You won’t be able to sleep once the pain really hits.”

  “I’ll live.”

  She looked as though she might argue with him, but Judy interrupted. “Reenie, your babysitter called. She wants you to call her back.”

  Worry creased Reenie’s forehead. “Is everything okay?”

  “She said to tell you the kids are fine. She just needs to talk to you.”

  Isaac offered to let her use his cell phone, but she shook her head and slid out of the booth. “We don’t get good service up here.”

  Because he’d lost his appetite, Isaac fiddled with his cell phone while she was gone. He’d been so preoccupied with Reenie he hadn’t tried to call anyone since arriving in Dundee. He saw now that she was right. He didn’t have service, probably because of the mountains.

  She returned a few minutes later and started gathering her coat and purse. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My babysitter has to go home. Her mother isn’t feeling well and needs her to watch her younger siblings.”

  “Is her mother so sick that you can’t finish your dinner?”

  “I didn’t ask. But it’s okay. I’ll take it with me.”

  “Of course.” He waved for Judy to bring her a container.

  “Here.” She wrote her number and e-mail address on the back of a napkin. “If you have any more questions on your book, let me know.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “I’ll give you a great deal on the Jeep if you want to make an offer,” she added, and tossed him another smile as she hurried out of the diner.

  Isaac watched her through the window as she climbed into her minivan. Reenie was something special. No doubt about that. But he was sort of relieved to have her gone. He felt too guilty knowing what he did, too uncomfortable anticipating her pain.

  Fortunately, he wouldn’t be around to witness her devastation. That thought brought a small measure of relief. Having a front-row seat to Elizabeth’s suffering would be bad enough.

  Judy came by with his check. He stood, tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table for her tip and paid at the register.

  He was about to step outside when Judy intercepted him. “You’re not heading out Reenie’s way, are you?” she asked.

  He hesitated. “No, why?”

  She frowned as she held up a brown leather wallet. “I found this on the ground near your table.”

  “Are you sure it belongs to her?”

  She flipped it open to show him Reenie’s driver’s license.

  Isaac kept his hand on the door. He wasn’t about to assume responsibility for returning Reenie’s wallet. He’d just congratulated himself on the fact that their paths would never cross again. She could come back and pick it up later.

  But she had the little kids, who were probably already in bed, and no babysitter.

  Certainly he could run it out to her. How long could a quick knock at the door and a simple “Here you go” take?

  “Okay, I can drop it by, if you like,” he told Judy.

  She pressed the wallet into his hand with a grateful smile. “Thanks. I wouldn’t want to tempt some of the short-order cooks by leaving it lying around here.”

  “No problem,” he said, and shoved the wallet into his coat pocket.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AS MUCH AS ISAAC WOULD HAVE preferred to slip Reenie’s wallet inside the screen door and walk away, he couldn’t. If she discovered it was missing, she might panic. Or the dog could get hold of it and chew it to pieces.

  He knocked and forced himself to wait on the stoop.

  A moment later, the door swung open and Reenie welcomed him with a friendly smile. “Hi. Change your mind about letting me help you get rid of that headache?”

  “No.” He lifted her wallet into the hazy glow of the porch light. “You left this at the restaurant. I just wanted to drop it by.”

  “How nice of you.”

  “It was no trouble,” he said as he handed it to her. “Have a good evening.”

  He started to walk away, but she spoke before he could clear the porch. “While you’re here, why not come in and have some peppermint tea? Then I can show you a few exercises that will ease the pain in your head.”

  Isaac had never tried a home remedy for migraines that actually worked. Fortunately, he didn’t suffer from the headaches very often and, when he did, his weren’t as severe as those endured by a lot of folks. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t be so stubborn.” Her eyebrows gathered in annoyance. “It’s stupid to suffer when I can help you. It’ll only take a minute.”

  When he hesitated, she opened the door wider. “Come in and sit down.”

  The expectation in her manner made it difficult for him to refuse. What would it hurt to let her give him a cup of tea and explain her cure for migraines?

  With a shrug, he stepped inside her living room. It was only eight-thirty. Now that he knew all he needed to know, he planned on returning to Boise instead of staying in Dundee. But h
e still had plenty of time to drive there and rent a motel room before it grew too late.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” she said. “I’ll get your tea.”

  Surrounded by a series of black-and-white photographs of her family, he sat on the couch while waiting for her to return from the kitchen. According to the signature in the bottom right-hand corner of the photos, they’d been taken by someone named Hannah Holbrook. Reenie had told him she had only one sibling, so he guessed Hannah had to be her mother, her brother’s new wife or maybe an aunt. On the piano he discovered Keith and Reenie’s wedding picture and couldn’t help getting up to examine it.

  They made a handsome, happy-looking couple. So where had things gone wrong? Had Keith always had a wandering eye? Or had Elizabeth been his first affair?

  Footsteps sounded in the hall and Reenie returned carrying a steaming mug. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to let me help you,” she said.

  The scent of peppermint tea filled the air. “You did help me.”

  She handed the mug to him. “With your research?”

  He kept his attention on the brown liquid in his cup. “Exactly. I hated to ask you for anything else.”

  “Hey, you’re a friend of my husband’s. That makes you a friend of mine.”

  A friend of her husband’s…. God, if she only knew.

  “You have some nice furniture,” he said, because it was true and he wanted to change the subject.

  She beamed at him. “Gabe makes it.”

  “Your brother? The ex-football player?”

  “Good, isn’t he?”

  “Very.”

  “He started working with wood right after the accident. Now he makes all kinds of things. He and Hannah sell certain pieces out of the lobby of her photography studio.”

  That answered his question about the photographs. “Hannah does nice work, too.”

  “She does. You should drop by her studio while you’re in town.”

  “Maybe I will.” Except he wouldn’t be in town after tonight. With Reenie as forthcoming as she’d been, there was no longer any need.

  The phone rang. She excused herself to answer it while Isaac sipped his tea and continued to circle the room.

  “Can I call you later? I’m with someone,” she said, her voice carrying back to him. “He’s a friend of Keith’s…they used to work together.”