by Nesly Clerge
“Permanently.”
“Thanks for behaving.” Luke wrapped his arms around Tim and kissed him on the cheek.
“Gross, Dad.” Tim, smiling, pulled away. Four angry honks sounded from outside. “I gotta go before Mom loses it.” He lowered his voice. “If you’re lucky, maybe the step-monster will stay up there all day.”
Luke opened the door for Tim. Watched his son get into the car, and waved as they drove off. He leaned his back against the door and stared up the stairs. Listened to the silence that filled the space.
He went into his office and opened his laptop. Maybe he could get some writing done before Brandi came downstairs to inflict more wounds or snub him. But he didn’t feel like writing more than a text message.
Can you get away for about an hour?
He waited for a reply.
CHAPTER 48
Luke waited in the last booth at the back of the small diner located just outside of town. The paper napkin in his hand had been twisted more times than it could bear. It shredded into fragments in his hand.
Each time the door opened, his heart raced. The fifth time, a wind gust caught the door and flung it all the way open. Chelsea struggled to pull the door closed. He wanted to get up to help her, but couldn’t move. The low-backed sundress she wore revealed a foot of creamy skin, smooth and supple, begging to be kissed and stroked. His mouth went dry.
Chelsea turned and brushed hair from her face, squinted her eyes to find him in the dimly lit interior.
Luke stood and held up a hand. Her expression when she saw him made his breath catch. His eyes devoured her curves as she sauntered toward him.
“Thank you for meeting me, Chelsea.”
“You did me a favor.”
Luke waited for her to slide into the booth then sat across from her. “I didn’t think that on a Sunday—I mean, I hope I didn’t cause any problems for you.”
“No one else is home today. I won’t even be missed.”
“I’d miss you.”
Chelsea tilted her head and smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”
The waitress stopped at their booth. “What’ll it be, folks?”
They ordered coffee and pie, and carried on mundane chatter until their orders were delivered.
“I wanted to tell you my good news, about my books.” Ten minutes passed as he shared what had happened and expounded about some of his dreams.
Chelsea reached for his hand. “I’m thrilled for you, Luke. I told you, it just takes patience. You watch. This is the start of momentum. By the way, I’ve recommended your book to friends and others. So watch for more sales and reviews to come.”
“Your faith means a great deal to me. More than you know.”
“I’ll keep promoting it, and you, every chance I have. I’m sorry I haven’t as yet read the other two, but I promise I will.” Her smile faded. “What is it?”
Luke shook his head. “I’m struck by the contrast, is all.”
“I think I understand. Not a star in your own home.”
“Not even a flicker.”
“She doesn’t know what she has.”
“You understand what that’s like.” Luke stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I don’t know how he can think of another woman when he has you. I’m having difficulty thinking of anything but you.”
Chelsea let her hand linger in his for a moment then eased it away.
“Seems I continue to do things I need to apologize for. I’m sorry, Chelsea.”
“That’s the problem, Luke. I’m not.”
Over coffee that was sipped and pie that went untouched, they talked about everything but what hung between them.
Luke paid the bill and walked her to her car. “It’s going to rain. I hope you get home before it does.” He leaned forward slowly.
Chelsea tensed, wondering what it would be like when he kissed her. Would it be brief? On her cheek? Her mouth? She licked her lips as he moved closer. Felt the heat from his body. He stopped, his face inches away. His eyes held her captive, like a skittish bird cupped in the palms of his hands.
Luke opened the car door. “You’d better go.”
Chelsea nodded and positioned herself behind the steering wheel. Luke closed the door and stepped back. She reversed the car out of the slot, waved, and drove onto the two-lane highway.
Luke went to his car, rested his head against it and cursed.
CHAPTER 49
She was a few miles down the two-lane road before Chelsea realized she didn’t recall the drive. Didn’t recall seeing other cars, pedestrians, or anything other than the replay in her mind of what had almost happened with Luke. An obvious reminder that she was taking risks and needed to get her head on straight. She engaged the Bluetooth.
“Hey, Chels,” Penelope said. “What’s doing?”
“Did I catch you at a good time?”
“Touching up my toenails, but I can chat and paint at the same time.”
“I met Luke for coffee.”
“Now you’re talking. Tell me.”
“Not much to tell about that, other than he’s an excellent conversationalist, never dull. And—” How much should she say?
“And?”
“We met up again. In fact, I just left him.”
Penelope whooped. “What’s he like in bed? Tame and tender, or wild and exotic?”
“We met for coffee.”
“How boring. And disappointing. I’d hoped you were going to get properly laid by hot chocolate man, Chels, not caffeinated.”
“It may be easy for you to hop into bed for a romp with a man you just met, but it’s not that way for me.”
“You’ve always had a tendency to make simple things complicated.”
“There’s nothing simple about it.”
“Doesn’t seem to bother Garrett.”
“It should.”
“It doesn’t.” Penelope sighed in response to Chelsea’s silence. “Do yourself a favor and keep this in mind: It’s been a long time since Garrett serviced you. I think there’s a statute of limitations about that. You wait any longer, you’ll become a virgin and have to be popped all over again.”
“Not physically possible or plausible.”
“Just saying. If I were you, I’d be having a hot-fudge sundae interlude with an author instead of a hot-and-bothered Sunday.”
“There’s an essence of sacrilegious about that.”
“That’s another conflict you self-impose. You can’t be naughty and nice. And only one of those is fun.” When no reply followed, she said, “I need to go. My nails are getting tacky.”
“We wouldn’t want that to happen.”
“Was that a dig, Chels? Because if it was—”
“I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m guess I’m more flustered than I realized. Catch you later.”
Flustered wasn’t the word for it. She’d been terrified that Luke was going to kiss her, terrified he wouldn’t. And when he hadn’t, she’d felt like screaming. In frustration. And relief.
It was obvious Luke wanted her, and she wanted him to want her. Surely that alone should be enough to satisfy her.
You’re lying to yourself, again, Chels.
Her phone rang, she checked caller ID. “Hi, Richard. What’s up?”
“That’s my question. Haven’t heard from you in a while. You okay?”
“I am. Just decided to start doing some things with myself and my life. Time to stop bothering you every time I feel a twitch.”
“You know I’m here for you.”
“You’re a love. We’ll chat another time. I’m almost to my hair appointment.”
She hated to lie to him.
Hated that she didn’t even have to think about it.
And, that doing so was easier than it should be.
CHAPTER 50
With posture straight and a wide smile, Chelsea preceded Dr. Moore into the office. She sat in the same place as her last session and slipped off her shoes, tucking
her stockinged feet to the side of her on the leather sofa.
Dr. Moore’s left eyebrow went up. She got her tablet and pen from her desk and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “Mrs. Hall, you seem more relaxed than last time. Almost jaunty, if that’s the appropriate word for how you appear to be feeling.”
“Please. Call me Chelsea. I am more relaxed. Because I do feel better than I have in quite a while.”
“I’m happy to hear it. What’s that a result of?”
“What you said. You know, about not letting anyone make me feel as though I’m less. How can I expect anyone to think better of me if I don’t think better of myself? I knew that once. I’d just forgotten that I did.”
“And now you have.”
“Yes.” Chelsea glanced out the window. A slight smile played on her lips.
“Did something specific happen as a result of this new view of yourself?” Chelsea stayed silent and kept her gaze fixed beyond the glass. “Chelsea?”
Chelsea, blushing, looked down at her hands. “I feel more engaged with myself and my life.” She told Dr. Moore about swimming every morning and eating healthier. She prattled on, uninterrupted for a half hour, unaware of Dr. Moore alternating between jotting notes and paying particular attention to her facial expressions and body language.
“… and although I still believe Garrett is seeing other women—mostly because he continues to claim he’s working late every night, including weekends, I’m not letting those thoughts control me as I have in the past. After all, I could be wrong, but I doubt that. And if I am right, nagging him won’t make him stop. It didn’t before.”
Dr. Moore put the tablet and pen on the sofa cushion that separated them and looked directly at Chelsea. “Sometimes situations, and people, are not what they seem.”
Chelsea sighed. “That’s so true.”
“We both know what infidelity can do to a relationship. Some relationships survive, but it can take years for healing to happen and for trust to be restored. Most relationships shatter. As do the people affected, especially when children are involved. Sometimes the resultant situation becomes dire, extraordinarily so in some cases, for one or more of the individuals. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Chelsea's face flushed red. “I understand.”
“In my experience it’s better to end the relationship rather than destroy it, and others, by traveling the path of infidelity.”
Chelsea picked at her cuticles and forced a laugh. “I suppose Garrett’s lucky I stayed; though, I don’t think he’d appreciate my telling him that.”
“Probably not. Chelsea, is there something particular you’d care to share with me?”
Chelsea looked at Dr. Moore then away. “Nothing I can think of.”
Dr. Moore kept her eyes directed at Chelsea. “Promise me you’ll give serious thought to what I just said.”
“Of course.”
“Our time’s up. We’ll pick up on this discussion next week.”
“I don’t feel that I need to come back. As I said, I’m feeling better.”
“And I think you’re at a significant turning point in your relationship and life.”
Chelsea slid her feet into her shoes. “You may be right about that.”
CHAPTER 51
Garrett’s attention shifted from the open chart to his pinging phone. He turned the screen toward him and read the text message. Dr. Jacobs, asking if he was available to give her a protein injection that night. He chuckled. Replied that his syringe was loaded and ready.
He called the hotel, checked his wallet for hundreds—more than enough for the night manager. Then he called Chelsea.
“I have to work late tonight.”
She mumbled, “Okay.”
He gripped the phone. “I’ve told you time and again, it’s important that I make a good impression. I wish you’d understand.”
After a moment she said, “I do. And I’m sure you will.”
“It didn’t sound like you understood.”
“Sorry. I’d just bit into an apple when you called.”
“Oh. I thought—”
“I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll see you when I see you.” She ended the call.
Garrett stared at the phone in his hand. He recalled seeing the bowl of fruit in the kitchen, but thought it was for Kimberlie—some new diet fad, not that she needed to watch her weight. Not like her mother. Other images floated into his awareness: the light tawny tone to Chelsea’s usually pale skin, the bathing suit drying in their bathroom.
What was going on?
Maybe his sleeping in the guest room that night had made a dent. Maybe she realized if she wanted to keep him happy, she’d better shape up, in more ways than one.
She might as well. Who else would want her, except some desperate guy looking for whatever was available and easy. Not that Chelsea was easy. She was anything but.
She had it good with him, and knew it. He also knew that whatever small changes she made now wouldn’t last. In no time, she’d resume nagging him about his hours, pouting, and stuffing her face.
These thoughts began to dampen his mood. He couldn’t have that.
Instead, he pictured some of the toys he and Dr. Jacobs had left to try. One in particular lifted his mood and the front of his trousers.
He checked his watch. His departure time couldn’t come fast enough.
CHAPTER 52
Hi, Luke. I just learned my daughter is spending the night at Susan’s house—school project, and Garrett is, of course, “working” late again, which means he’ll get in around one or so. Perhaps even later. Any chance you can meet for a quick drink and a chat this evening? Well, maybe not too quick (grin).
Chelsea chewed on her bottom lip. The most she knew about Luke’s schedule was that it wasn’t always consistent. It was five thirty now. Luke may be home already, with her. She picked at a cuticle and paced. Five minutes. Ten.
Hello, beautiful lady. How about seven thirty at Toby’s? It’s a quiet, out-of-the-way place, if you don’t mind going there.
Sounds cozy. I’ll see you then.
Do you need me to tell you where it is?
I’ll find it.
She had a little less than two hours. Chelsea looked up the address and directions—too risky to record it in her GPS—then dashed upstairs. The hot shower was supposed to relax her. It didn’t.
Then, it was forty-five minutes trying to decide what to wear, trying on and discarding clothing into a pile on the floor. The only thing that soothed her was knowing that Luke liked her fuller curves, obvious by the way he traced them with his gaze. A shopping trip was in order, at least for a few outfits that flattered her figure.
A sleeveless black shift was selected. Feeling emboldened, Chelsea added a belt. She cringed at her reflection in the full-length mirror, hating that her waist wasn’t smaller. But this would be a test to prove whether Luke truly admired her body or if it was a matter of wishful thinking on her part.
She went back into the bathroom, fixed her hair into a chignon and took care applying her makeup.
Chelsea closed her eyes and imagined Luke’s hands reading her body like Braille. Her body began to tingle. In all the right, too long-ignored places.
She rouged her lips, blotted with a tissue, and warned her reflection:
“People who play with matches, Chels.”
CHAPTER 53
Toby’s Lounge was easy to find. Chelsea recognized the place, having passed it on the way out of town whenever she traveled that direction, which was seldom. It wasn’t exactly a dive, but neither could it be mistaken for elegant. Nor did it make any pretense in that direction. It wasn’t Garrett’s kind of place. Nothing but the best and most expensive for Garrett. She shook her head to clear away any thoughts of her husband, certain he likely didn’t have the same issue in her regard.
The parking lot was nearly full. She pulled in and paused, trying to decide where to park. Driving a silver Bentley no longer seemed ide
al. She spied a place that would keep her car from being obvious from the two-lane highway, pulled in, turned the engine off and took a deep breath. The thing to do was start the car and go home, where she belonged.
Too late. Luke was jogging toward her. She waved and got out as he reached her car.
Luke said, “I thought it best if I waited out here so you didn’t have to walk in alone and look for me.”
“That was thoughtful.”
“How do you manage to look even more lovely each time I see you? Or have you cast a spell over me?”
Chelsea laughed. “Maybe we should go in and find a table.”
A booth with a semi-circular padded bench, located in a darkened corner, was empty. Luke took her hand and led her through the people crowding the bar. Chelsea glanced around then slid into the booth.
“You okay, Chelsea?”
“A little skittish, if I’m honest. I was trying to make sure no one I know is here.”
“One thing is certain: If they see you, they won’t say anything if you won’t. Sorry to bring you to this kind of place, but I felt it was safer. Maybe I’m being over-cautious.”
“More like prudent.”
“Since the first time I saw you, I felt compelled to look after you.”
Chelsea tilted her head and studied his face. “I believe you mean that.”
“I do. As presumptuous as that may sound—”
“Don’t, Luke. It’s okay. I think I understand.”
“I’ll get our drinks. White wine?” Chelsea nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She fought the urge to peek around the edge of the booth. Yipped when she picked at one cuticle too aggressively. Folded her hands on the table and waited and wondered if she was crazy for staying.
Luke returned with their drinks and slid into the booth, keeping a distance of several inches between them.
They sipped in silence, until Luke said, “It’s not the same as meeting for coffee, is it?”
“No. But it’s okay. The only thing is—”
“It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable. Maybe this place was a bad idea.”