by T. F. Walsh
“Rey,” she said, frustrated by the tremble in her voice.
He turned. His normally neat hair had grown a little too long, just enough to make him look unkempt. He looked tired, and carried a thick manila envelope in one hand.
“This altitude’s a bitch,” he said with a pained smile.
She only chewed her lip, trying hard not to remember the effect the altitude had had on him before, how he’d slept there in front of her, his face soft and quiet as a little boy’s.
He gave a helpless shrug. “I guess you don’t want to talk to me. I don’t blame you.” He lifted the envelope. “There are some things in here for you to look at. About the lawsuit against Cherokee, and some other things. I’m staying downtown. Give me a call when you’ve signed everything.”
She took the envelope. “You could have mailed these. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”
The pain in his eyes made her flinch. “Yes, I did.” He took a step backward, toward the door. He smiled a little but the pain hadn’t changed. Joely blinked and swallowed. She refused to cry in front of him. Or behind him, as he turned toward the door. Or about him, as the door closed behind him.
She stood still for far too long, staring at the closed door, before she heard the creak of hinges behind her.
“Joely?” came Perry’s hesitant voice. “Is he gone?”
Joely nodded, coming back to herself. “He’s gone.”
She walked back behind the counter and headed into the office. The tears had faded and she felt stable again, but her hands still shook as she drew a pile of legal papers out of the long envelope.
“What is it?” Perry asked.
Joely looked up to see her friend watching around the edge of the door. “I don’t know. Something to do with the suit against Cherokee Ceramics, he said.” But another set of papers fluttered out, papers she recognized. She swallowed, staring at them as they drifted to the floor.
The divorce papers. With his signature scrawled across the bottom.
Her face must have gone as bleak as her heart, because Perry said, “Do you want me to stay?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Perry propped the door open so they could hear the bell on the front door, then took a seat across from Joely at the desk. She picked up the divorce papers and held them tentatively out to Joely.
“Just lay them down,” Joely said. “I’ll look at that later.”
Forcing her gaze away from the divorce papers, she focused her attention on the rest of the envelope’s contents. On top were documents pertaining to a class action lawsuit against Cherokee Ceramics. She glanced over them.
“Oh, my God.”
“What?” said Perry.
“They’ve agreed to settle out of court. All I have to do is sign some papers and I’ll get a cash reimbursement.”
“How much?”
Joely showed Perry the sum.
“Wow. That’ll pay the rent for a while.”
“It certainly will.”
Joely gave the figure one last, unbelieving look, then went to the next document. She couldn’t imagine what else he might have for her.
She read the next sheet, but at first it didn’t make any sense. She held it out to Perry. “Is this what I think it is?”
Perry looked perplexed, as well. “It’s a letter of resignation. Rey quit his job?”
“Why would he do that?” She flipped through the remaining papers, searching for an explanation. The next stack was more pertaining to the lawsuit, but under that was a sheet of blue-lined notebook paper, filled with Rey’s neat, thin handwriting. Tears sprang to Joely’s eyes. She dashed them away in irritation. She didn’t want to cry. Not over him. Not again.
“Read it?” Perry asked, but Joely shook her head. She needed Perry’s emotional support, but she was afraid if she read the letter aloud she’d be in tears after a matter of words.
Joely, the letter began. As you can see, I’ve quit my job. If you don’t believe I’m serious now, you never will. I want to work this out. We need to talk. Call me at my hotel. A downtown number followed. If you truly think there’s no hope, I’ve signed the papers so you can file them.
“Not much here, after all,” she mumbled, handing the letter to Perry. She added the divorce papers neatly to the rest of the envelope’s contents and slid everything else back into the envelope. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she said firmly.
Perry tilted an eyebrow at her over the top of the letter. “You’re sure about that?”
“No.”
When Rey had been standing there in the shop, she’d wanted more than anything else to touch him. To slip her fingers through his untidy hair, to slide her hands under his shirt. She’d never had that kind of chemistry with another man, and doubted she ever would. A life without Rey would mean a life without something unutterably precious.
But so, so painful if it didn’t work.
“What are you going to do?” Perry finally said softly into the silence.
Joely scrubbed her forehead. “I don’t know.” She managed a weak smile. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Perry’s return smile was a little sad. She squeezed Joely’s hand. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks.”
• • •
She went home, ate dinner, watched the weather. It seemed to be a necessary ritual before making a decision. Finally, still unsure whether it was supposed to snow tomorrow, she picked up the phone.
“Okay,” she said to Rey when he answered. “Let’s talk. When can you come up?”
“I’m not coming up.” His voice was taut. “You come here.”
His insistence took her aback. “Why?”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
She chewed her lip. “Okay. Fine.” She looked at the clock. “I can come down tonight.”
“Great.” His voice had relaxed a little. “Have you had dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess you can just meet me at the hotel.”
“Okay. It’s going to take me at least an hour and a half.”
“Take your time. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
This touched her for some reason. With his voice going furry around the words, it sounded like he really meant it. Her own voice sounded furry when she spoke again, though for different reasons. “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
The ride down the mountain was surreal. In the darkness and occasionally light traffic, there were times when it seemed hers was the only car on the highway, flying over the hills and through the wide curves like a roller coaster in the dark.
Closer to town, the traffic increased. She found herself watching the cars rush by, wondering if anyone else was in as much turmoil as she was. Where were they going? Meeting a lover for an illicit affair? Taking a child to the hospital? Even going home after a long day’s work had its own drama. Every car held its own story. Hers was, perhaps, no more dramatic than any of the others.
She tightened her hands on the steering wheel at the thought. Other people had been through this kind of thing and had survived. People even now, possibly in that blue Dodge that had just moved into her lane, were going through even worse. Whatever happened, she would get through it.
By the time she pulled into the parking lot of Rey’s hotel, she was calmer again. She picked up the envelope full of papers, slung her purse over her shoulder, and walked firmly up to the front door.
Rey sat in the lobby. Sighting her, he stood and smiled softly. All her calm control wavered and she clenched her teeth in a desperate attempt to hang onto it. Keeping her stride firm, she crossed the room to him, noting with some irritation that he hadn’t bothered to move at all. The irritation rose until she wasn’t sure if she was scared, apprehensive, or just plain mad.
“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” He made an inviting gesture toward the elevators.
Not trusting herself to say anything, Joely headed in the direction he indicated
. In silence, they rode the elevator up, walked down the hallway to Rey’s room.
By the time he closed the door behind them, Joely had sorted through her emotions and decided she was, indeed, angry.
“This is nice, Rey,” she grated. “Drag me all the way down the mountain and don’t even talk to me.”
He regarded her calmly. “Did you read the papers?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
Nodding, he crossed to the bed and sat on it. She stood in front of him, clutching the envelope.
“Since you drove down here,” he went on, “I assume you didn’t go ahead and sign the divorce papers?”
“No, I didn’t.”
He nodded again. She watched, perplexed, as he lifted another legal-sized manila envelope from the nightstand. “Good. Then I have another proposal.” He held the envelope out to her. “You might want to take a look at this.”
Joely didn’t want to take a look at anything. Flinging her envelope onto the bed, she planted her fists against her hips. “No, I don’t think I do. What is this, Rey?”
“It’s a pre-re-nup, I guess.”
She gaped. “You want to get back together but you want to put conditions on it?”
“You could say that.”
So angry she couldn’t even speak, she instead growled the emotion and spun, stalked two steps toward the door.
“Joely, I love you.”
That stopped her. Why, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t said it before. Hearing it now didn’t make any of the rest of their situation go away. But something in his tone touched her. He sounded calm, but at the same time wounded.
Slowly, she turned back around. “And? Or is it ‘But’?”
“But I can’t go through this again. And I can’t take the blame for everything that goes wrong. Even when it doesn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
He pushed his envelope toward her. “Read it.”
For the moment, curiosity overcame irritation. She took the envelope and drew out its contents.
It was a legal document, three pages long. From what little she knew about the subject, it contained all the elements of a prenuptial agreement, but when she got to the body of the document, things began to change.
“I, Reynard Birch,” she read aloud, “hereby affirm that I will not focus my attention so thoroughly on my job that I forget about my marriage.” She gave him a narrow look. “That sounds all right.”
“Keep reading.”
She cleared her throat, looking for the place where she’d left off. “I, Joely Birch, hereby affirm that I will accept all communications with Reynard Birch in the spirit in which they were intended, regardless of whether they conform to my preconceived notions.” Okay, this wasn’t so nice. “Excuse me?”
Rey’s smile had faded. “I meant every word I said to you. Who cares if Lisette had to kick me in the ass to get the process started? My head was so far up there she damn near broke my nose.”
Joely shook her head. “All you were thinking about was the case.”
He took a jerky step toward her, his body taut. With anger, frustration or desire, Joely couldn’t tell. “No. The case brought my attention back around where it should have been all along. To you. It’s a damn shame I ever let it drift that far. I regret that. I’m sorry for that. But if we’re going to have half a hope in hell of making this work, you can’t hold it over my head every chance you get.”
She didn’t know what to say. Was that what she’d been doing? In the guise of protecting her heart, had she laid the blame for everything that had gone wrong in their marriage squarely at Rey’s feet?
She had. But right now she wasn’t quite so sure it all belonged there.
She swallowed and straightened her spine. Time to face facts. “Go on.”
“There’s more in there, about what constitutes infidelity, and the consequences of lying. We never had any problem with that, though.”
“Just your affair with your job.”
“Yeah. I think we covered that, though.” He fiddled his fingers in the air. “Flip to the last page.”
She did. Reading it, she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to laugh, but she did anyway. “Rey, this is nuts.”
“Just read it. Tell me what you think.”
“‘In the event of any perceived or actual breach of the above agreements, in part or in full, the involved parties agree to abide by the following procedure to settle this breach.’ Rey! A procedure?”
“It seemed prudent under the circumstances. Read on.”
She scanned the page. “Rey, I really don’t think it’s possible or even wise to make love during the course of an argument.”
He arched a brow, a challenge in his eyes. “Why?”
“Well . . . wouldn’t you forget what you were arguing about?”
“That’s the point. Now, read the last two items and then we can decide if we want to proceed.”
“Okay. ‘I, Joely Birch, hereby agree to give Reynard Birch the benefit of the doubt in any and all situations. I, Reynard Birch, hereby agree to give Joely Birch top priority in any and all situations, including those related to advancement of career.’ You already signed yours.”
“I did.”
She still didn’t quite know what to think. “Is this a legally binding document?”
“Probably not.”
“Then why did you do it?”
He shrugged. “I’m a lawyer. I think better this way. Besides, it doesn’t have to be legally binding to make us think about what we’re doing before it all blows to hell again.”
She nodded. Frowning, she read the last few paragraphs again. “Rey,” she finally said, slowly. “I don’t know if this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen or the most offensive.”
He looked surprised. “There’s no in between?”
“I’m not really seeing one.”
Doubt crept into his face. Good. Maybe he was figuring out that the best way to a woman’s heart wasn’t through legal documents.
“Maybe you could go for the former?” he said hopefully.
She shook her head. Frustration warred with need. Why couldn’t he get it? “I don’t know. This is a whole new wrinkle, Rey. I’m going to have to think about it.”
Frustration won. She tossed the folder onto the bed and left.
Chapter Twelve
“How dare he?” Joely muttered to herself as she shoved a finger into the elevator call button. Rey’s whole plan for reconciliation seemed to revolve around shifting the blame to her. What kind of nonsense was that?
How can he say any of this was my fault? He’s the one who got so wrapped up in his job there was no time for me.
You’re the one who walked out.
The thought prodded at her, making her angrier. She stomped into the elevator and shoved the button for the lobby.
“I had a reason to walk out,” she muttered, mostly under her breath but still loud enough that the other person on the elevator took a wary step away from her. Joely gave him a wan smile that she hoped didn’t make her look like an axe murderer.
He didn’t seem greatly reassured. She kept her fuming to herself until they reached the lobby and he made a hasty retreat.
Joely had had every intention of heading back up the mountain. But on her way to the parking lot, her feet slowed, and finally stopped. Something didn’t feel right. Something in the back of her mind kept nudging her. Something in her heart felt askew.
Grudgingly, she admitted she couldn’t go any farther without figuring out what that something was. She turned around and headed back to the lobby, to the restaurant. She could sit for a while with a drink or some nachos and think.
But she didn’t make it to the restaurant, either. Just outside the door, her feet stopped again.
Thinking wasn’t going to do her any good. She needed to make a phone call.
• • •
Rey le
t himself fall backwards onto the bed. He’d thought he had things figured out, but it had all gone hellishly wrong.
The re-nup was supposed to have made her laugh. It had been the best way he could think of to air his grievances without having the situation spiral into an argument. It had spiraled anyway, and she’d walked out.
Again. So much for the third time being a charm.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. The entire venture had been doomed from the start. He should never have let Lisette talk him into it in the first place, much less the second time.
If only Joely could understand what he’d been trying to tell her. He didn’t think it had been that much to ask. As far as he was concerned, the only thing standing between him and a happy life with his wife was her inability to admit she’d played a part in their breakup.
He understood her need to blame him. He’d blamed her for a long time. As their marriage had crumbled, she’d found less and less to say to him, closed more and more lines of communication. But he’d failed to use even the ones she’d left open, and when she had spoken to him he’d made little effort to listen. So, when faced with the prospect of seeing her again, he’d swallowed part of his pride and admitted to himself that he had to share the blame. She didn’t seem willing to take a similar step.
She had to, though, if this was going to work. He couldn’t always be the bad guy.
But, and he admitted this to himself with a wrench of pain, there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot he could do about it now. It was all up to Joely.
• • •
Sitting in a large, comfortable chair in the lobby, Joely dialed her cell phone. It had been a long time since she’d retrieved messages from her home answering machine, and it took her three tries before she got the password right. When she did, she found Lisette’s message and replayed it, jotting down the Manhattan phone number. She glanced at her watch. It would be late in New York, maybe too late for a polite phone call.
She dialed the number anyway. It had to be done.
Lisette at least sounded alert when she answered. Joely could hear the familiar voice of a late-night talk show host in the background.