Table for Two

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “Mal.” His voice grew quiet. “It wasn’t like that.”

  The tears were running freely down her cheeks now. “Yes, Travis. It was like that. We’d been separated for what? An hour when you took that woman into your office and—” Her voice broke.

  Travis was grateful she didn’t finish her sentence. “I’ve told you that was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything. She didn’t mean anything. I was hurt, too, Mal. And I just wanted to forget the hurt, bury my head.”

  “In another woman’s lap.” She wiped at her eyes. “I have to go.”

  “Mal.” He stood, started around the desk after her. This couldn’t be it. They couldn’t end it like this.

  She looked back over her shoulder, one hand on the door. “Just let me go, Travis. Please.”

  He looked at her, deep into the dark eyes, searching for something, anything that might hint she was feeling torn. That she didn’t mean it.

  She dropped her gaze to the ground. “Please.”

  He studied her, the brief shudder of her shoulders before she wrapped her arms around herself, protecting, comforting. He wanted to be the one providing those comforts to her. Irritation grated across his nerves that he couldn’t. That she’d step away from him, avoid all contact if he tried.

  “Mal?” He waited until she lifted her eyes to him. “I meant it when I said that I want you to be happy.”

  She didn’t say anything, but tears spilled down her cheeks. She turned and wrenched open the door, hurrying down the hall. He watched her go, keeping enough distance that it wouldn’t seem as if he was chasing her while also making sure she didn’t hurt herself.

  Then he went back to his office, shut the door with a firm click and punched the wall.

  It didn’t punch back, though he would have welcomed the response. Mal was wrong. He hadn’t created distance. Not intentionally or otherwise. He’d simply been protecting his family. Keeping information from them that he knew would upset them. And, if he were honest, he hadn’t told them because he was embarrassed.

  He’d been wrong to take that woman into his office, wrong to think it would help and wrong to think it wasn’t dishonoring what he’d had with Mal. He’d been an idiot.

  His knuckles throbbed. He glanced down and saw he’d scraped them raw. Still, it didn’t ease the throb of his heart. The painful saw of breath that pushed in and out of his lungs.

  Because, although Mal had been wrong in some respects, in others she was right. At least, she was right about how he’d hidden parts of himself from his family. And so far he’d done nothing to fix it. Taken no steps to make things right. To be the man he wanted to be.

  Maybe it was too late for him and Mal. His eye flicked over to the pair of velvet boxes now sitting on his desk and another round of pain washed over him. He hadn’t realized how much hope he’d gotten from the knowledge that she’d held onto his gram’s ring until now—until she didn’t.

  Travis picked up the blue box, the one with the ring inside. He ran a thumb along the hinged seam but didn’t flip it open. He knew what was inside, so there was no need to verify it. Instead, he shoved it into his front pocket. Shoved the gray box in, too. Then he strode through the workspace and out the front door.

  There might not be much of a chance with Mal, but if he wanted any sort of chance at all, he had to start making things right. With her, with her family, with his own family. There was no point in waiting. He couldn’t wait. Been there, done that. Had the scars to remind him of it.

  He called Shane and asked if he could pick him up at the terminal, then he caught the next flight home.

  * * *

  IT WAS A quiet trip back, the plane carrying only one other passenger, which left plenty of privacy for thinking. Travis would have preferred some sort of distraction, anything that might keep him from reliving the scene with Mal in his office or thinking of the scene to come with his family. But it was just him and his thoughts.

  And the jewelry.

  He hadn’t bothered to go home and change. Hadn’t bothered to pack a suitcase or even a toothbrush. He didn’t plan on staying long and he could buy whatever he needed or get by without it. What he couldn’t do was wait any longer to tell them the truth.

  He was practically vibrating with it when he stepped off the plane and made his way to the pick-up area where Shane waited in his big red truck.

  “Did you miss me?” Shane asked when Travis opened the door.

  “Yes, and this sty you call a vehicle.” Travis shoved a batch of burger wrappers, empty plastic bottles and a paper bag from the seat onto the floor before climbing in. “Seriously, Shane. This is an embarrassment to garbage.”

  Shane merely shrugged. “I clean it up for dates.”

  “Wow. I bet that impresses the ladies.”

  “It does.” Shane gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. He grinned at Travis. “Speaking of ladies, where’s Mal? Couldn’t come with you this time?”

  “Something like that.” Just the mention of her name was enough to punch Travis in the gut. But he curled his fingers into his palms and pretended it didn’t. He wasn’t about to get into it here, on the short drive home. Not just because it wasn’t the kind of thing you told your brother in a moving vehicle, but because Travis couldn’t stand the thought of telling the story more than once. He figured it would be tough enough getting through it the first time and he wasn’t about to set himself up for failure or for his brother to blurt something out to their family first. This needed to come from his own lips, his own heart.

  He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window and stared at the scenery as it flashed by. But he didn’t really see it, and when they pulled up in front of his childhood home Travis was surprised they’d already arrived.

  The scent of his mom’s potato chip casserole greeted him when he pushed open the front door. “We’re here,” Shane called, giving Travis a light shove as he walked past.

  Travis gave him a slightly harder shove, as was his right as the older and therefore wiser brother. Shane turned and punched him in the shoulder. Travis punched back.

  It was typical behavior they’d engaged in as teens. One time, in a particularly memorable scuffle, Shane had climbed on top of the portable dishwasher for better positioning and Travis had simply shoved the dishwasher and Shane through the door. Their mother had not been amused.

  But they were older now. And tougher. And the dishwasher was a permanent installation with no wheels for rolling. Their mother, however, was still not amused.

  “No.” She came into the hallway where they were circling each other, half crouched, looking for an opening. “Absolutely not.” She flicked the lights on and off. “No fighting.”

  “Fine.” Travis rose to his full height and Shane tackled him—which signaled fair game. He wrestled Shane into submission, pinning his younger brother’s shoulders with his knees. It took a lot longer than it had when they were kids and Travis outweighed him by thirty pounds and had an extra inch in reach.

  “You’re getting slow,” Shane said, trying to unpin himself.

  “Still fast enough to take you down.” Travis grinned.

  “I let you win.”

  “Sure you did.”

  Their mother flicked the lights again. “Enough. Quit acting like animals or you aren’t getting dinner.” It was the same threat she’d used when they were kids. It worked then and it worked now. She returned to the kitchen and both boys followed, though Shane did give him one more shove.

  Travis let this one go. He’d bested Shane once. They both knew he could do it again. “Dinner smells good.” He realized he hadn’t put anything in his stomach since this morning, and that had been nothing more than coffee. His stomach had been too tight for food, but now, with the familiar scent of childhood swirling around him, it growled.

/>   His mother was peering into the oven, checking on the meal. “Did Mal have to work?”

  “She did.” Travis couldn’t be sure, but it seemed a reasonable assumption. One he’d let her believe until he got the whole family together. “Is Dad here?”

  “He’s in the basement.” She stood up and began pulling plates out of the cupboard, handing them to Travis. He laid them out on the table, just as he had as a kid. And just as when they were kids and work was involved, Shane made himself scarce. Travis heard the thud of his footsteps as his brother headed down to the basement to join their father.

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Just for tonight.” He pulled forks out of the drawer and placed them beside the plates.

  His mother nodded and checked on the meal again. “Did something happen?”

  “No. I just wanted to be near family and you’re my family.” He answered too quickly and with too much information. A stranger would guess he was lying. His mother was sure of it.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  No. “Yes, but I think it should wait until after dinner.” No reason to ruin his own appetite and possibly everyone else’s. Travis wasn’t self-centered enough to think that his breakup would affect their lives to the same extent it affected his, but they did care for Mal and would be disappointed to hear about it. That it came so soon after his gram’s passing would be an added blow.

  He fiddled with the forks, straightening them when they were already straight. Maybe he shouldn’t be telling them now. They were still in mourning. Maybe he should wait until things were more settled and the pain of losing his gram wasn’t quite so fresh.

  But even as he considered the idea, Travis rejected it. They needed to know. Or he needed to tell them. And what other reason would he give for showing up so suddenly mere days after he’d just been there? He missed them? No, it was better to tell them. Like ripping off a bandage, fast and without too much thought.

  He waited until after dinner then asked them to gather in the living room.

  “What’s this about?” his mother asked, her eyes darting to the kitchen where there were still dishes in the sink and on the counter.

  “I’ll clean up, Mom. Sit.” Travis remained standing.

  His father sat down, stoic, the only hint that he found any of this unusual was the small line between his eyes. Shane lounged back on the couch. “I’m prepared to be entertained.”

  “It’s not that entertaining.” And something in his tone must have clued Shane in because he sat up and the same line between their father’s eyes showed up on his face, too.

  “Travis?” his mother asked, concern wrinkling her brow and turning her mouth down at the corners. She sat on the edge of the couch, perched as though ready to leap to her feet at the slightest provocation.

  “I have something to tell you.” He swallowed and reminded himself not to think about the details. Just get through the facts. “Mal and I aren’t together anymore.”

  “Oh.” His mother sat back and some of the tension on her face smoothed out. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  He blinked. “I thought you liked Mal.”

  “I do.” She smiled. “But the way you were acting, I thought you were going to tell us you had three weeks to live.”

  “I was hardly being that dramatic.”

  All three of them stared back at him with the same “Sure, you go on thinking that” expression.

  He stared back, feeling sullen and a little put out. Had he really dropped his life for the day and hurried all the way here for this? “I wasn’t.” And if he spoke the words a little too loudly, it was only because he was trying to put a point on it. He wasn’t being dramatic.

  “You could have just called.” Shane raised an eyebrow.

  Travis shook his head. “Not the point.” Although, really that had been part of the point. But he needed to get back on track with why he’d actually come to talk about the information and not his delivery of it. “Mal and I broke up.”

  He waited for the reaction. A hand raised to her mouth from his mother, a loud question from his brother, a slow shake of the head from his father. But they merely continued to look at him.

  “She dumped me.” A small pause for emphasis. “It wasn’t the first time.” Again, he waited for a reaction that didn’t come.

  “Do you want a beer?” Shane offered.

  Travis shook his head. “I’m fine. Is this not news to any of you?” His father maintained a stoic demeanor while Shane and his mother glanced at each other and then back.

  “We thought something had happened, but when she came back with you last month, it was clear that you’d sorted things out,” his mother said.

  “We had.”

  Shane frowned. “I thought you said she dumped you.”

  Travis’s molars were getting quite the workout, sawing back and forth against each other. “She did, and thanks for being so concerned about my feelings.”

  “I offered to get you a beer.” Shane pushed himself off the couch. “You want one, Dad?”

  Travis looked at his mom. She would understand. But she was looking at Shane. “Actually, I could use a beer, too.”

  Seriously? “I’m glad you’re all taking this so well.”

  “Are we supposed to sit in a drum circle and talk about our feelings?” Shane returned with the beers, handing them out like candy. Travis accepted his with a nod, but didn’t open it. “Because I’m down with the sharing, but I’m not taking off my clothes.”

  “What are you talking about? No one wants to see you naked, Shane.”

  “Wrong. Melissa Jones asked me out just last week and she was totally undressing me with her eyes.”

  “I give up.” Travis felt as though he was having a completely different conversation from everyone else. “Clearly, this didn’t matter and I should have stayed in the city.”

  “Now who’s not being dramatic?” Shane grinned as he twisted off the bottle cap and took a swig.

  “Well, apparently I need to be since my life is so uninteresting.”

  “It’s not uninteresting. I’m interested,” his mom said, but she looked tired.

  “It’s fine, Mom. I don’t need to talk. I just wanted to tell you and I felt it was something I needed to share in person.”

  There was quiet for a moment, then Shane asked. “All right, drum circle or not, I want to hear what happened.”

  “Only if you promise to stay fully clothed.”

  “Agreed. Unless Melissa Jones shows up, then all promises are null and void.”

  The telling went far better than Travis had expected. He didn’t know why he’d thought it would be such a huge deal. Even after he’d shared everything, including the general details of their first breakup, no one pointed a finger at him and called him a damn, dirty cheater. No one lectured him about upholding a moral code. And no one told him he needed to move the sun and stars to win Mal back.

  They simply listened and offered their support. Okay, so his mom said she hoped he’d learned from his mistakes and his dad nodded his agreement. And Shane had asked if it would be wrong for him to ask Mal out, which had earned him a solid punch to the shoulder, but other than that his family just offered listening and support.

  Despite the fact that he spent yet another night in his childhood bed, and this time without the comfort of Mal tucked in beside him, he felt okay. Maybe not great, but okay.

  The jewelry boxes remained in the pocket of his jeans. Travis had asked his mother to take them, but she’d declined and explained that his gram would have wanted Travis to decide what to do with them. He wasn’t as convinced, but didn’t want to argue. He could put them somewhere safe and revisit the situation at a later date.

  He stayed at his parents’ a little longer than he’d anti
cipated, hanging around through the weekend and mowing the backyard, wrestling with Shane and eating his mom’s home cooking. When he boarded the flight home Sunday night, he felt almost okay. Or better than he had on the flight out. And it was a good thing, because there’d been an email from Mal the previous night, inviting him to the next charity meeting. Tomorrow.

  He didn’t intend to miss it.

  * * *

  MAL READ OVER the agenda for the Monday morning charity meeting on her computer screen. She’d have said she was experiencing déjà vu, but it was really more like Groundhog Day. Reliving the same time over and over. But she had no intention of getting into it with Travis.

  Unless he didn’t show up. Then all bets were off.

  “Knock, knock.” Owen walked into her office without actually knocking and grinned when Mal frowned. “Having an excellent morning, I see.”

  “I have a meeting in ten minutes.” She glanced at her wrist, even though she didn’t wear a watch. She still felt it helped drive home her point. “What do you need, Owen?”

  “Can’t a brother just have a visit with his little sister without there being some ulterior motive?”

  “He can.” She clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. “But you can’t. You’re never in this early. What’s up?”

  “I am occasionally in this early, but I’m not here to defend my work ethic. We need to talk about Travis.”

  Mal felt her face grow cold, then numb. “There’s nothing to talk about.” She heard the words and knew her lips moved though she couldn’t actually feel them. The numbness was a marginal improvement over the dull ache that generally colored her daily experiences. But only a marginal one. “Besides, I didn’t think you were talking to him.”

  “I’m not.” Owen’s genial expression dimmed. “I’m here to talk about the anniversary party.”

  Mal blinked. As far as she knew, the party planning was still on schedule. Had something happened and they’d all decided to keep it from her? Fearing she was too sensitive to handle the situation? “Is there a problem? Did you accidentally blab to Mom and Dad and ruin the surprise?”