Most marriages ended with fireworks, acrimonious words, angry gestures, and bitter disputes over meaningless memorabilia, but theirs had ended in silence. The unspoken anguish, quiet dinners, silent lovemaking, until staying at a job site or going out for drinks with his co-workers was easier than going home and sitting across the dinner table with an accusatory wife who never touched him anymore and a heart shriveled more with every reserved, reticent interaction.
When Ally’s arms crept around his waist and her hot tears trickled down his collarbone, Nick's heart broke all over again. It had been so goddamn long since he'd held her in his arms. She felt...different. Thinner, more fragile, but as her singular perfume rose from the heat of her body, Nick remembered why he fell in love with her in the first place. She had the most giving and beautiful heart of anyone he'd ever known.
"Shhh." He pressed a kiss to her hair as she clutched at the back of his dress shirt and her arms clamped around him as if she would never let go.
"I missed you," he whispered.
Ally pushed away from him, and with trembling fingers, nails bitten to the bed, she swiped angrily at the tears glittering on her cheeks. "We'd better get to the house before Mama gets to bed."
And just like that she shut down on him. Shut him out.
"Sorry to kick you out, folks." David Wiseman swept the floor as he obviously attempted to look anywhere but at them. "But I'd like to get the diner shut down fairly quickly."
Ally cleared the plates from the Formica tabletop and briskly went through the swinging door to the large industrial sink in the kitchen. "We'll help get you out the door."
"You don't—"
"I worked here all through high school and at Christmas and spring break my first few years of college while you were away at culinary school," Ally interrupted the gruff man. "I can clean off a few plates and load them in the dishwasher." She scraped the food down the drain and squeezed the big handle to spray hot water on the simple white ceramic plates. Then Ally quickly, efficiently loaded the dishes into the large washing rack.
"All right." David wiped down the cushy chairs. Nick stood, hands hanging loosely at his sides, while he waited for a task. "Turn the chairs upside down and set them on the tables once I'm done wiping down the seats."
Nick followed behind David as he made the rounds through the diner. He concentrated on the menial, necessary tasks instead of thinking about what had just happened between him and Ally. For a few precious seconds, he believed they'd connected again. She'd felt amazing in his arms, but then she'd pushed him away.
When Ally was done in the kitchen, she came to stand beside him. She twisted her hands together and bit her lips before finally asking David Wiseman a simple question, "If there's no one to call, what is she going to do when she gets home from the hospital?"
David paused, rag clutched in his work-worn fingers, then shrugged. "She's giving them up."
"What?" Ally fell back a step. Even Nick wasn't sure why but the stark answer stabbed through his heart.
"She grew up in the foster system," David replied while he scrubbed at a nonexistent stain on the diner counter. "She's barely nineteen-years-old. The father is dead. Died in a ski patrol accident. She can't take care of two babies, go to school to get a degree, and support them. Even with public assistance. Even in Snow Creek."
Ally's fingers clamped together against her breastbone.
"She wants her children to have a stable, loving home and she knows she can't do it alone."
"But—"
"My mother was a single mother of triplets," David said abruptly. "Looking back on it now, I know how incredibly hard it was for her to raise us, and she had help. Her family, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, helped out when they could, financially and with general support, and she was still worn out all the time."
Ally thought about the rumors. The wild Wiseman boys had always been in trouble for something. The entire town had been surprised when Old Man Woods had put them to work in his diner. They'd been even more surprised when the boys had actually taken to the business. At least, David and Sam had. Craig was another story.
"My brothers and I offered to help Britney but we really can't do too much." David grunted. "She lives above the diner for a minimal amount of rent. But she won't let us do any more than that. And we can't force her to take charity."
"So, somewhere, a couple is going to be thrilled that they are getting a ready-made family." Ally's pale blue eyes darkened with a pain so profound, Nick had a hard time breathing.
"Yes," David said baldly. "But she wants an open adoption, so her kids will know that she made the choice for them to have a better life and they'll know her."
David hesitated. "It is a really tough place for her to be. Her boyfriend died about a week after they found out they were pregnant. They were both orphans and wanted the baby. She had planned to keep one baby. But everything changed when she found out she was having twins. And to raise them alone...."
Ally firmed up her mouth. Nick knew she'd made some sort of decision by the set of her shoulders. "Then we'll go see her tomorrow. No one should be alone in the hospital on Christmas day."
Nick thought about Ally and the heartbreak in her eyes just a few minutes ago and wanted to protect her from any more hurt. "Maybe we should just stay at home." He thought about Britney and her choices. He admired her for making a hard decision. Nick himself was the product of the foster system, with no family, no idea where he came from, and certain elements of his upbringing had always haunted him. He'd wanted his kids to grow up in a house full of love with two parents. But it looked like he'd never have kids anyway. He couldn't imagine being married to anyone but Ally. And she didn't want him anymore.
"If you don't want to go, I can go alone." Ally shrugged into her long wool coat.
"I didn't say that." Nick held onto his temper as she made assumptions about what he wanted.
"Fine," Ally said impassively. "I'm going. You can do whatever you want."
And just like that, they were right back where they'd been when he'd moved out.
***
The car ride to Janine's house was silent, just like the last few dinners they'd shared before he'd left.
They'd agreed to arrive together. Nick had left his car at the Amtrak station where it would be fine for a few days. He hated to deceive Janine but since this was Ally's final marriage request, he'd agreed reluctantly. He didn't like to lie.
They stood at the cheery red door of her mother's mountain A-frame, and he turned to her to ask one more time, "Are you sure—"
Before Ally could answer, her mother opened the door. "Come in, come in." Janine's hand trembled as she reached for the arm of Nick's heavy leather bomber jacket. Her skin was fragile, papery thin and covered with age spots. He catalogued her near-skeletal cheekbones and the bandana tied around her bald head. Her once-bright blue eyes seemed to sink into their sockets and her lids were completely devoid of eyelashes.
"Hi Mama." Ally's mouth curved into a travesty of her normal smile, her body tense and her face tight. "Look who I brought for Christmas."
"It's so good to see you." Janine smiled tremulously as Nick bent to hug her emaciated frame, careful of her brittle figure.
"Sorry it's been so long," Nick spoke around the giant lump in his throat. What the hell? Why hadn't Ally told him that her mother was this sick? Or had she tried? "Work has been insane lately."
"So Ally tells me." Janine ushered them into her living room with painstaking slowness. "You need some dinner? I can whip something up."
"We're good," Ally said quickly, clearly not wanting her mother to know that they'd stopped by the diner first.
"Well, all right then. Come on and sit down for a chat." Janine shuffled toward a new recliner chair kitty corner to the faded, floral sofa. A TV tray, set up beside the chair, held an empty glass, ice cubes melting in the bottom and a can of Ensure next to it. "Just finished my dinner. Let me clear this and I'll be right back."
"Mama, sit and catch up with Nick. I'll clean up." Ally bustled around the nearly spotless living room and carried the remnants of a liquid meal to the kitchen.
The living room was decked out in full Christmas splendor. A seven-foot tree filled the large picture window. Noble Fir and cinnamon potpourri scented the air. Colored lights winked on and off, glass ornaments sparkled with each flicker of light and surrounded the tree in a halo of color. A majestic angel sat atop the tree and peered out into the room, her arms spread wide in a benediction of the inhabitants.
Embroidered stockings—one for Janine, Ally, Nick and Ally's brother, Andrew—graced the stone, fireplace hearth where logs snapped and crackled in the still air. A pang of nostalgia gripped Nick. He had forgotten how much Ally's mother loved Christmas. And how much she'd always made him feel like a welcome addition to their family. A heavy lump of regret balled in his throat as he realized how much he'd missed over the last eight months.
"How are you?" Janine asked softly. As if she'd known that something was wrong between Nick and Ally.
Nick wanted to answer honestly, but Ally didn't want Janine to know they'd split up. Nick didn't want to be split up. Some days he still wasn't sure how they'd ended up here.
"Work has been really crazy. We bid on a bunch of projects and they all said yes at once. With the economy and how bad it's been, we didn't want to turn the work down, but everyone has been working insane hours," Nick deflected. "But I'm really sorry I haven't been up to see you in so long."
That was going to change. Whether Ally liked it or not.
Janine smiled shakily. "I understand, Nick. It's hard trying to take care of the family. Especially now with Ally taking a leave of absence to be here with me. I'm sorry for putting the extra strain on you both."
Nick barely held back the shock of her words. Ally hadn't told him she'd taken a leave of absence. She'd just said weekends. Why hadn't she told him?
"Janine, we love you," Nick choked out. How had Ally borne the burden of this alone?
Ally hurried into the living room, rubbing her hands with a dish towel and looking distinctly harried.
Janine yawned widely. "Goodness me. I'm so sorry."
"Mama," Ally twisted her wrist and glanced at her ancient Seiko watch. "It's way past your bedtime."
"I know, but I've barely gotten to talk to Nick," Mama protested. "And I feel so badly for taking up so much of your time lately."
"Let's catch up tomorrow," Ally said desperately. And Nick knew then she had had no intention of telling him about her leave of absence.
"Allison Mary Carpenter," her mother's voice warbled. "Hush now, and let me catch up with your husband."
Ally stood behind her mother, her face cast in shadow, but Nick couldn't miss the sudden sheen of tears in her dulled blue eyes. "Okay, but don't overdo."
Nick wanted to curl his arms around Ally and hug her tight. Her sorrow was like a living, breathing presence in the room. Instead, he chatted with Janine while Ally flitted around the living room, cleaning away nonexistent dust, straightening the creche and nativity figurines, adjusting the holly swags on the mantel. With each subsequent circuit around the room, she shook a little harder. And he knew he had to get her alone before she had a complete meltdown. They may not have lived together for the last eight months, but they'd been together for ten years before their marriage broke down and he knew she was on the edge.
Nick yawned conspicuously and stretched his arms over his head. It had been a long day.
"Goodness, I shouldn't have kept you up so late," Janine fussed.
Nick smiled, warm and self-deprecating. "Sorry about that, it's been a long week."
"And Santa won't come until everyone is tucked up tight in bed."
Ally's smile was strained as she helped her mother stand. "Let's get you to bed."
Janine stared straight at Nick, her gaze piercing and at once all-knowing, as if she knew that he and Ally were lying to her. As if she had a line on their troubles. "It's a night for miracles."
He thought about Britney and delivering those babies into this world. He leaned down to hug Janine gently. "That it is, Mom."
"You realize you're mine too," Janine whispered in his ear, so softly Ally likely hadn't heard. "No matter what else is going on."
She knew. Nick registered her meaning and hugged her tight. His entire body yearned for her words to be true. Now that he knew that Ally had taken a leave of absence, he wondered how she thought for a minute that her mother didn't know that they weren't living together.
"Fix it." She patted his shoulder. Nick's throat tightened. He'd forgotten how much he loved Ally's mom. She had taken him in and made him a part of the family right from the beginning.
The distance between him and Ally had grown so slowly over the nearly two-years-long process to get pregnant. It wasn't one big blow up, more like a series of disappointments and letdowns, dampening their hopes and their joy, until the distance culminated in the dissolution of their marriage.
Why had he let that happen? Why had Ally? And how could he fix it? "You need any help?" he asked his almost ex-wife.
"We've got this." Ally helped her mother shuffle off to the ground floor, master bedroom. "I'll be there in a minute."
And that's when it occurred to Nick. They were going to have to share a room. Ally would be forced to talk to him. And with that realization, a pleased smile curved his lips.
Nick carried their bags into the little guest bedroom, and set about making the only bed in the room ready for the night. Nick finished putting the clean sheets on the queen-sized bed, pulling the corners military tight and smoothing the blanket and quilt over crisp, plain white sheets. Too bad he couldn't straighten out his life as easily.
But he realized that this time he and Ally would be forced to spend together was an opportunity. An opportunity he could not afford to waste.
Chapter Five
Ally slid into the tiny guest room and closed the door softly. She leaned back against the door, her eyes closed, her head tilted to the side, and let the weariness wash over her.
She was so tired.
Tired of pretending to be okay. Tired of hiding her life from her mother. Tired of the never-ending sadness.
"You okay?"
Ally started at Nick's soft query. For a moment, she'd forgotten they were going to have to share this room.
I will be okay. I have to be. "Yeah."
He stood across the tiny room, the bed between them a giant elephant. Well, this was going to be awkward. He took a step toward her as if to comfort her. Ally grabbed her pajamas and hustled to the attached bathroom. But Nick headed her off at the entrance and blocked the doorway. He slid his warm, hard fingers over her shoulders and pulled her into the cradle of his body.
For a moment, Ally let herself sink into his heat. The white-hot attraction that existed since they met over ten years ago still simmered between them, stronger than ever. Her body tingled and her legs trembled as she fought the urge to wrap herself around him and never let go.
God, she'd missed him.
But leaning on Nick now would only cause her more heartache later. Ally pushed away from his embrace and scurried inside the bathroom, seeking refuge.
She closed the door tightly and forced herself to go through the motions. Ally scrubbed her face free of makeup, brushed her teeth, and considered giving herself a facial just to avoid the sixty inches of bed and the upcoming emotional torture.
Ally delayed until there was nothing more for her to do and it was clear that she was just hiding in the small bathroom. She was a coward, but she really didn't want to face her husband. She'd known when she'd asked him to come for Christmas that it was going to be difficult. But she hadn't thought through all the physical ramifications. Now she had to share a bed with him. They hadn't even been able to share the same space for over eight months. How was she ever going to get through the next eight hours?
Ally inhaled deeply and pressed her forehead aga
inst the six-paneled door. "You can do this," she murmured to the stained oak. She could do this. For her Mama, she would do anything. Her mother loved Nick and he loved her back. Even Ally could see that her mother's condition had dismayed him.
Ally grabbed the cold metal knob and pulled the door open. She squared her shoulders and walked back into the room. "It's all yours," she said to the pillow next to his head, studiously avoiding his gaze.
"Al...."
She danced around the edge of the bed and away from his reach. She knew what he wanted. "I can't talk about it."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"When? When you came to the house to get your summer clothes?" Oops, that came out a little more bitter than she'd intended. "Or maybe when you picked up your skis last month. Oh yeah, you weren't talking to me."
"That's because you stopped talking to me."
"I stopped?" That was rich.
"And when I came by, you weren't there."
He couldn't really be that clueless. "I wasn't there because it was pretty clear you had nothing left to say. Sorry for not attending the final act of the breakdown of our marriage." Yeah, not much point in sticking around to have him stab me in the heart.
"That's not fair." Nick sat in the bed, propped against a pile of pillows, his chest bare and his face a mask of hurt, looking like he was the injured party in this debacle.
And what about her life had been fair lately? Not a goddamned thing.
A single wrought iron lamp sat on the oak bedside table and cast a warm glow over the head of the bed. The curved oak headboard, stained lightly, was flanked with newel posts on each side. The bed was covered with a Wedding Ring quilt pieced in shades of white, red, and green cotton. A forest green blanket lay folded at the foot of her side of the bed.
Love on Main Street: A Snow Creek Christmas Page 38