On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3)

by Karen Lenfestey

  She also wanted to tell Nathan about putting the house on the market. Even though her life was falling apart and some of it was his fault, she felt compelled to talk to him. Back when they’d been dating, he’d always been so logical, coming up with solutions to her problems. She needed him now more than ever.

  Dr. Shouse sat across from them and turned to a blank page in her notepad. “Val, you need to put your relationship before the accident up on a shelf. Nathan might not ever be the man you remember. He has a better chance of recovery with your support, but you need to accept who he is now.”

  Val looked at Nathan with his slanted eyebrows and forest green eyes. He looked like the man who kissed her on each cheek before meeting her lips. He looked like the man who gave his old Matchbox cars to Chip the first time they’d met. He looked like the man who grilled her French toast the morning after their wedding. He might’ve been a little tight with money, but he’d made up for it by his actions. He paid attention to the details of her life and she’d fallen in love with him. “The other counselor kept asking about what brought us together in the first place.”

  Dr. Shouse leaned forward and laced her fingers together. “That’s traditional counseling, but head injury cases are different. The two of you need to choose to build a new relationship together. Are you willing to do that?”

  Val noticed Dr. Shouse staring at her. “I think so. I miss having Nathan in my life.”

  Nathan cocked his head as if he were surprised by this.

  Dr. Shouse nodded, looking pleased. “And Nathan, are you committed to making this marriage work?”

  Nathan fidgeted. “Um. I’m such a screw up. I’m pretty sure Val wishes she’d never married me.”

  Val knew deep down he was right. She tried not to let it show in her eyes. “The truth is, things worked better before, but I still want to try.” She wanted to hold his hand, but he was too far away.

  He looked at his scuffed up work boots. “Thanks to me we’re on the verge of bankruptcy.”

  The counselor faced him. “Are you willing to make this work?”

  He shook his head.

  Val tried to understand the creases forming across his forehead. Instead of looking relieved to hear that she wanted him back, he appeared troubled.

  She felt as if she were losing him. Like an open can of pop lost its fizz. Their marriage had gone flat and she worried he was going to pour what was left down the drain. Why wasn’t he thankful that she’d forgiven him? She’d forced herself to overlook his DUI arrest. It helped, of course, that none of her clients had mentioned it. Kelly had asked if everything was okay, but hadn’t held it against her. And Nathan said he hadn’t had anything to drink since moving in with Rod.

  He pressed on his temples. “I’m afraid I can’t do this. Val. . . .” He made eye contact. “I think it’s over.”

  Val’s heart tumbled down.

  Dr. Shouse’s mouth opened a bit too far, then closed. “Nathan, help me understand where you’re coming from.”

  He splayed his hand through his hair. “I’m no good. Val deserves to be with someone who can contribute. Someone who can take care of her. She deserves a real man.”

  At this, Dr. Shouse stroked her chin. “Tell me about a ‘real man’.”

  He looked at the bookshelves against the wall. “A man without brain damage. A man with a good-paying job and a man who is dependable.”

  “And that’s not you.” Dr. Shouse’s voice softened.

  “Not anymore. I can tell I’ve changed. I fly off the handle one minute and am ready to cry the next. I’m like. . .”

  Lately, Val had been feeling especially emotional herself. She had to admit, she missed Nathan’s touch as they passed by each other in the hall or when he fell asleep spooning with his hand on her hip.

  “You’re like?” Dr. Shouse encouraged him.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m like a car that only has two speeds—first and fifth. There’s no in-between.”

  “Would you say that’s accurate, Val?”

  “Yes. He used to be even-tempered all of the time, but since the accident, he’s bouncing between two extremes. He’s lost his middle.”

  “How do you feel about that?” the counselor asked.

  Studying her stubby fingernails, Val noticed that wood stain had left a light brown patina on them. Pride swelled in her chest for the work she’d been forced to do. “I like how he isn’t afraid to kiss me when Chip’s in the room anymore. He’s much more spontaneous.” Another breath. “But he loses control so easily, it scares me. It’s like I can’t ever disagree with him.”

  He straightened his back. “But you never used to disagree with me. Before the accident, we never fought. You and I always saw eye to eye.”

  Dr. Shouse asked if Val remembered it that way. Val crossed her legs. “Well. . . when we were dating, I tried to get along. I don’t like to fight.” When she felt strongly about something, she’d flirt and cajole until she got her way. “But now that I found out you lied to me about money and we’re losing the house. . . I can’t keep quiet any more.”

  “So, you avoided conflict, but that didn’t work very well in the long run,” Dr. Shouse said.

  Val shrugged. She’d never thought of it like that before. “I guess so. Are you saying that we would’ve ended up fighting even if Nathan hadn’t been injured?”

  Dr. Shouse leaned back and raised her eyebrows. “It’s pretty hard to be married to someone and never have an argument.”

  Val mulled that over. She blamed all of her problems on Nathan and his brain injury. Was she to blame, too? “All I know is that I want Nathan to come home.” She studied his face, hoping that he’d say he couldn’t live without her either. But he remained quiet.

  Nathan closed his eyes for a moment. He let out a loud gush of air and pushed on his knees to stand. “None of this is Val’s fault. It’s all mine. And. . .I want a divorce.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Mia watched as a brown-haired boy played in the front yard with Homer. He must be Nate’s son. Tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, she considered motherhood. She wouldn’t mind raising Nate’s child if that’s what it took to get him to marry her.

  Nate had blown off his physical therapy appointment with her and she was starting to panic. After all, she was in love with him.

  Memories of rejection seeped into her mind. She’d been a late bloomer, ignored by the teenaged boys in her high school. Until her senior year. Suddenly, her hips rounded, her chest developed and guys couldn’t wait to get her into their cars. And she’d been overwhelmed with the new-found attention. Kissing soon led to touching which led to sex. She’d been thrilled to discover that she loved it almost as much as the guys did. Because this was her true gift. Sex was power.

  Unfortunately, she’d never made it past the “let’s live together” level of commitment. She’d done everything she could to please John and the string of men before him—cooking dinner, offering massages, never saying no to sex. But she could tell Nate was better than all of her previous boyfriends. He was the marrying kind. She just had to convince him that she was his soul mate.

  The golden retriever jumped in the fountain and splashed around. The boy laughed and stood by when the dog climbed back out and shook himself dry. A moment later, the dog took off running across the lawn and down the sidewalk. The child chased after him, yelling, “Homer! Stop! Come back.” But the dog didn’t listen and he could run much faster than the boy.

  She watched as the kid sprinted a few blocks before giving up.

  This was her chance. She started her car and drove down the street along the dog’s path. Soon she spotted Homer and she putted along until the dog stopped to roll in the grass. Boy, did he look like his mommy.

  She parked and slowly approached the dog. “Hi, Homer. Remember me?” She made her way close enough to pet the large pup. After a few strokes, she grabbed his collar. He reluctantly climbed into her car. She drove back to Nate
’s place and pulled into the drive.

  Smiling, she looped her finger through Homer’s collar and headed to the front door. She rang the bell, hoping Nate would answer. In her mind, he would smile and be pleased to see her. He’d invite her in for a glass of lemonade and show her the place. Maybe take her up to his bedroom and fool around. . . . That would be so hot.

  The front door opened and a woman with a pink streak of hair stared back at her. She had red-rimmed eyes as if she’d been crying. Mia couldn’t find her voice.

  “Yes?” the sad woman asked. “Oh. You found Homer. Chip said he ran off. Thanks for bringing him back.”

  Mia led the dog into the house. “No problem.” She peered into the foyer, trying to catch a glimpse of the grand house’s interior. “Is Nate here?”

  The woman furrowed her brow. “I don’t think I’ve met you. Do you live down the street?”

  Mia searched for a lie. But why should she lie? “No. I’m a friend of Nate’s and I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

  The woman squinted at her as if trying to place her. “Well, I’m Nathan’s wife, Val. I don’t believe we’ve met.” She reached her hand out to shake.

  Mia didn’t like this. She didn’t want to make nice with Nate’s wife. She was the enemy. Mia ignored Val’s outstretched hand. “I saw a For Sale sign in your yard. Mind if I take a look around?” She couldn’t wait to see where Nate slept when he wasn’t with her.

  Val dropped her hand. “Now isn’t a good time. Call the realtor to schedule a viewing.”

  Mia tried to hide her disappointment. “Is Nate home?”

  “No.” Squinting at Mia again, Val placed her hand on her hip. “Who are you exactly?”

  “Just someone who cares about Nate more than you do. Someone who thinks his snoring is cute.” At that, Mia knew she’d gone too far. Crimson filled Val’s face followed by a scowl.

  Mia turned on her heels and made a quick escape. She climbed into her car and sped off down the street. Her heart beat as if she’d just run a race. At a stoplight, she caught her breath. Through her panting, her face broke into a grin.

  Nate wouldn’t be able to ignore her anymore.

  # # #

  After the creepy woman left, Val noticed her hands trembling. Shell-shocked, she leaned against the pillar between the foyer and the living room. So Nathan had cheated on her.

  Somehow she managed to make her way to the phone to dial Joely’s number. “If you’re not up to it, just say so. Can I come over? I could really use a friend.” Within fifteen minutes, Val knocked on Joely’s apartment.

  Val hugged Joely gently and told Chip to go play with Anna. Chip complied and Joely suggested they sit in the living room, near her painting of a sunset.

  Val’s stomach lurched and she placed her palm over it. Before sitting, she made them both a cup of tea in her friend’s kitchen. She knew her way around since she often stopped by to help when Joely was having a flare. Finally, Val rested on the couch with Joely. “I’m so freaked out. This woman brought Homer back, asked to see the house and then mentioned that Nate snored.”

  Joely patted Val’s free hand. “I’m so sorry. Maybe that woman was crazy. After all, Nathan is nothing if not loyal. I’ve never even seen him look at another woman.”

  “I haven’t either. But it’s strange that he announced he wants a divorce and then this young woman shows up insinuating that she’s slept with him.” Val stared at the murky brown of her drink. How naïve she’d been. “I figured once I decided to stay with Nathan, then that would be that. It never occurred to me that he might want out. I mean, why would he want a divorce?”

  Joely shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s feeling sorry for himself. He thinks you’d be better off without him.”

  “Sometimes I think that I would.” Joely’s face flinched as if wounded by Val’s words. Val spoke quickly, trying to fix things. “But now that he’s moved out, I realize how much I miss having him around.” Her insides percolated.

  “Have there been any other signs that he might have cheated?”

  “No.” Then she remembered the phone calls in the middle of the night. “There have been a few hang-ups and a female asked for Nate--not Nathan--but Nate.” She put down her cup and fiddled with her ring. “Could she be the reason he likes to be called Nate? She’s younger and prettier than me.”

  Shaking her head, Joely murmured some words of comfort, but they didn’t help. A wave of nausea overcame Val. She bolted for the nearby bathroom.

  On top of everything else, she was sick. All thoughts ceased while she emptied her stomach.

  Afterwards, she hoped that Chip wouldn’t catch it. The last thing she needed was a kid with the flu. Or even worse, Joely could catch it. She splashed cold water on her face and returned to her friend. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have come over. I don’t want to expose you to anything.”

  Joely chewed on her lower lip. “Is there any chance. . . .” She didn’t finish her thought.

  “What?” Val feigned cluelessness. The truth was, even though Chip caught every bug that passed through the city, Val remained healthy. She hadn’t thrown up since three years ago when she’d had food poisoning. And before that, when she’d been pregnant. She shook her head. “I can’t be pregnant.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Joely pretended to wipe sweat off her brow.

  She did some calculating in her head. “I mean, it’s technically possible, but. . . I can’t be. I just can’t.” Out of nowhere, she burst into tears.

  Joely scooted closer. She rubbed soothing circles on Val’s back.

  Val cried and cried. “This can’t be happening. I’m pregnant and my husband wants a divorce. I’m going to have a baby and the father isn’t going to be around.” Worried that she was soaking Joely’s shirt with her tears, Val pulled back. She went to the bathroom and grabbed a box of tissues. “Looks like I should buy stock in these.” A half-smile touched her lips.

  “It’s going to be all right. Do you have any pregnancy tests--just to make sure?”

  Val nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to have one here, would you?”

  Joely shook her head, her expression turning sad.

  In the distance Val could hear Chip and Anna discussing the rules of alien drag car racing. A sentimental smile formed as she considered that her son might finally have a sibling. God, if she were to have another baby, she wanted to raise it in her hacienda. To use the nursery down the hall that she’d recently painted yellow.

  Suddenly, she needed to get home. Once alone in her master bath, she did what she had to do. Then waited.

  # # #

  Nathan looked around Rod’s two-story Colonial and saw the signs of a happy family. School pictures of his three kids (two girls and a boy) in silver frames on the fireplace mantel, American Girl dolls and a baseball mitt strewn across the floor, books about fairies and unicorns and dinosaurs on the coffee table. In the evenings, the house vibrated with chatter and laughter. Both Rod and his wife worked full-time and the kids were all in school. During the day, like now, the place was eerily quiet.

  God, he needed a drink. Why did Rod get to have all of this? Not only did he have a Norman Rockwell family, but he also owned a successful business. At one time, Nathan had hoped to follow in Rod’s footsteps, but that dream had died. Nathan no longer had thousands of dollars in savings. He no longer had the brains to run his own shop. And he certainly had screwed up any chances he had of staying married to Val.

  Spotting Rod’s wedding picture across the room, Nathan tried to remember what Val looked like on their wedding day. But he couldn’t. He could, however, see her spunky, pink-streaked hair. He could see her ocean blue eyes and her easy smile. He hadn’t given her much to smile about lately, but somehow he knew that she was a glass half-full kind of girl. He didn’t remember marrying her, but he did know that he loved her.

  Even though he knew it was pointless, he went to the kitchen and started searching all of the cabinet
s for alcohol. He climbed up on a chair to check above the fridge. A lot of people kept their liquor there. Especially if they had kids. But there was nothing. Clearly, Rod took this AA stuff seriously.

  He got in his car and drove to the bar. His bar. He parked his car, but didn’t get out. Instead, he stared at the door. The sign said “Must be 21 to enter.” His breath drew in slowly.

  If he just had a few drinks, his life wouldn’t feel so shitty. He watched a man wearing a hat and dark glasses go into the bar. That man was on his way to forgetting his worries and Nathan couldn’t help envying him.

  An image of him and Mia in bed formed. She’d done most of the seducing that night, but he hadn’t exactly resisted. Why had he thrown his marriage away like that?

  Closing his eyes, he felt the tug to chase his troubles away with booze. Yet part of him wanted to figure things out. If he kept his mind clear, would he be able to fix any of his mistakes?

  He stared at the door to the bar. I’ve been there before and it didn’t do me any good.

  Just then his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller i.d. and saw that it was Mia. He didn’t answer. When it rang a few minutes later, he almost didn’t even check. He did, though, and saw that it was Val. “Hello?” His heart thudded inside his chest.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Val met Nathan at a coffee shop. Neither of them could commit to a meeting that lasted longer than the time it took to drink eight ounces. She sat across from him at a round table, barely big enough to hold their mugs.

  Cupping her hands around her decaf, she tapped her foot nervously. Her uterus ached. Behind her, the espresso machine whirred loudly.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “How’s Chip?”

  She hesitated. A group of teenagers laughed at a faraway table. “I had him tested. . . . It turns out he’s dyslexic.”