by Robin Janney
This was the only other place on their ranch she felt safe. Even if she had imagined Belle talking to her. Even if she did imagine more than her horse’s scent in the stall. It was one of the few things she kept back from Pat. If she told Pat, the doctor would tell Kevin who would tell her husband, and that was one thing Angela couldn’t risk right now. Not when she had all these other issues going on and her husband certainly had his own complications. It was bad enough Pat had raised the dosage of the new medicine.
The lingering sense of Belle here, something more than her smell, real or imagined, brought the troubled woman comfort. Especially when Princess settled herself across the opening, as if standing guard; she felt safe here.
Curling up on the bales of hay against the outside wall, now covered with an old blanket, Angela pulled her iPhone out. She looked at it, her eyes teary. Pat had never lifted the invitation to call her whenever Angela felt the need to talk about something, but Angela had never intruded on the other woman outside of their therapy sessions. Having just seen the woman earlier in the day, she didn’t think Pat would appreciate it just now.
For that matter, she was more than welcome to call Toni as well. But Toni was as preoccupied with her new boyfriend as Angela had been with Craig when they were first falling in love.
There was something about her husband’s friend Kevin. Maybe it was because he had tried so hard to calm her the day her brother had been hit and killed in Simmons Crossroads; both men had tried. Contrary to what Nikki had claimed, she did remember her husband’s presence at the accident. At least, she remembered his voice and his strong arms around her ten-year-old self.
Even though she knew Kevin shared things with his wife, she still believed he was the right choice. Besides, Kevin was a guy, who would understand another guy better than Pat would; and when the man in question was her husband, Angela trusted Kevin to understand him better.
“Hello, Angela,” was Kevin’s gentle greeting.
Sometimes she hated caller ID.
“Kevin, why isn’t he talking to me?” she asked, cursing her trembling voice.
The man on the other end of the phone sighed. “How do you mean?”
“Craig acts like I’m a stranger in my own home. I can’t even go into his office without feeling like I’m intruding. I tried…”
“Slow down, Angela. Take a breath. Tell me what happened that has you upset.”
She drew a deep breath. “I saw Dr. Ryan today. For my follow-up. About the miscarriage.” Angela wiped at her eyes. Apparently, it was going to be one of those afternoons when all she was going to do was cry. She was tired of crying. “Craig didn’t even want to come with me. So, when I got home, he was busy sketching and acted like, well, like I was intruding on something important. He didn’t even bat an eyelash when I told him everything checked out fine and we could start having sex again.”
Kevin’s sigh was deeper than the previous one. “I know you talked with your father-in-law but has Craig shared anything with you about New York at all?”
“No. I’ve tried bringing it up, but he just looks so sad.”
“He is, Angela,” agreed Kevin. “About so many things right now.”
Angela could hear hesitation in the man’s voice. What did he want to share but couldn’t without breaking doctor/patient confidentiality? “Why is he holding stuff back?”
“Why are you?”
She cursed quietly.
“I heard that, and I understand,” commented Kevin. He sounded genuinely amused.
“Sometimes strong language is needed,” she said without shame. “I figure you won’t judge me.”
“You would be correct. You may use whatever language you feel you need to, Angela.” There was a soft sound, like Kevin was in pain himself. “I understand how hard this is for both of you, but one of you has to be first. I’m restricted in what I can share with you, Angela, and I’m sorry.”
Angela nodded by reflex. “I know. I wish…well, I wish a lot. I-I can’t share what happened to me in the woods with Craig, for the same reason I can’t share with him what happened in Tyler’s Grove when we were there for Jared’s graduation. And I don’t…I don’t remember what I told him before we were married. There were things I should have and would have, but I don’t remember if I did or not. And I-I am just so afraid of him leaving me again.”
Kevin drew a deep breath. “Pat did mention you’ve developed a stutter. Craig hasn’t said anything about it. Has he noticed?”
“I don’t know. Like I’ve told P-Pat and Dr. Ryan…Craig and I don’t really spend a lot of time together. He used to come out and join me for supper, but he doesn’t do that anymore. Sunday afternoons are it. He m-makes me grilled cheese sandwiches and we watch movies. Not a lot of talking happens.”
“Isn’t that how the two of you started?”
“Y-yes.”
“I wasn’t aware he was doing that.” There was another sigh. “But it’s moving in the right direction, Angela. Then and now, he’s doing the best he can to connect with you.”
“I know. I know. Dammit, I wish Pat would let me g-go back on the anxiety medicine. I feel coiled so tightly inside.”
“You’re not on all your meds?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“N-no. Just the depression medicine because she feels it’s more important to deal with right now. She upped the dosage today, but…I don’t think I was that bad before. I-I just want to go back to the old combination of drugs. And maybe change doctors. But I’m afraid to even talk to my husband about it, because I don’t want him thinking I’m not trying like I said I would.”
“I’ll talk to Pat about the medicines, find out why she’s doing what she’s doing. Have you had any more memories resurface?”
“Craig told you about them?”
“He did, and you mentioned it in one of your emails. He’s amused over the movie theater one. How often did you cross paths with him and stay unseen because of how he broke up the fight when you were a kid?”
“I-I don’t remember. I think…a lot. I think I might have had a little crush on him.”
Kevin chuckled. “I won’t tell.”
Why that comforted her, Angela wasn’t sure. “Thanks Kevin, for letting me talk to you and stuff.”
“Anything for you and Craig.”
Angela ended the phone call, not feeling any better. There were so many things she couldn’t wrap her mind around, and she was about ready to quit trying. Last night hadn’t been the first night she’d stood in the kitchen with her bottle of sleeping pills. It was getting so much harder to put them back in the bottle. But, she didn’t give up on something or someone she loved. And if the man she loved most needed space, she’d bloody well give it to him, even though ‘space’ was the thing she needed least.
C raig released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when Angela pulled the door loudly shut behind her. For all her timidity, he could see how tightly she was holding her emotions. Not unlike himself.
He glanced down at the sketch he’d been working on, realizing he’d lost the inspiration for it. His grief over Katie’s murder was consuming him, but all his sketches of the woman were pale. Or dark, depending on your point of view. He should probably go back to sketching Angela, but he didn’t know if he was ready to release that level of emotion again. Love and guilt made for an awkward life.
Just like he knew he wasn’t ready to resume having sex with his wife again. He wanted to, wanted to pin her and ride her until pleasure was the only thing on her mind. But if he couldn’t have her friendship back, then he didn’t want it. Sex wouldn’t fix the brokenness between them.
He toyed with the idea of calling Kevin, though as a friend or therapist Craig wasn’t sure. Would his friend understand his lingering sadness over Katie’s death? The doctor in him might. Craig wasn’t even sure he understood the grief he was feeling. It wasn’t that he missed the adult Katie. Even though she’d tried renewing their friendship, it had never meshed like w
hen they’d been children. No matter how he had messed up at the end, he found the memory of Katie as a child more likable than the teen or the woman.
His wife’s voice interrupted his thoughts and a quick glance at the screen of his laptop showed Angela talking on her cellphone in Belle’s empty stall. She wasn’t talking to thin air this time, so he muted the sound to give her privacy. At least she was safe, and he could go back to his thoughts.
Katie as an adult had a thicker veneer than she had as a teen, her jadedness had been harder for him to see. Or perhaps his love for his wife had allowed him to trust again. Adult Katie had been even more calculating than she had been as a teen. He could see it in hindsight.
Katie as a teen had been fun, and a decent friend, but had just wanted sex. Whether to become pregnant as he’d thought, or to keep him in the relationship, he didn’t know and couldn’t ask now. Mike hadn’t even been sure, just that the pregnancy she had managed to have in their senior year had been aborted. Perhaps it hadn’t been with the father she’d wanted? Mike wouldn’t say who the father had been.
Katie as a child had been fun and innocent. She had shared her dessert and played with them in the park. She had never wanted to do chores, and had been the best at making Halloween costumes.
And somehow, it was easier to grieve for Katie than it was for the loss of his unborn child. If he had been here, instead of New York, both the other woman and the unborn child would still be alive. Craig still didn’t understand why he had stayed so long in the cold city, even with the worry for his father – who was progressing just fine without him there.
Unlike his wife, who despite promising to work with her therapist continued to argue and refuse to take the new medicine Pat wanted to prescribe. But that same wife had also told him to tend to his own issues before trying to interfere with hers. So, he would continue talking with Kevin even knowing his wife was going back on her word.
When were things going to go back to normal?
There was a soft knock at his door. One glance at the laptop told him Angela hadn’t left the stables. Probably their housekeeper then.
“Come in,” he said, dropping his feet to the floor.
Nan stepped into the room, came to stand before the desk. “I’ve been struggling with something, Mr. Moore. I can’t tell you everything, but I thought you should know that your wife…”
“Stop.”
“Excuse me?” she clarified.
“If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me.”
Her eyes glowered at him. “You need to know this, Mr. Moore.”
His breath was deep. “Fine, what?”
“She’s suicidal.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he nodded. “I gathered as much. Pat hasn’t outright said so, but it’s one of her concerns.”
“I question Pat’s concern.”
“I question my wife’s…”
“You have no right to question anything about your wife right now,” said his housekeeper, with a decided bite. Her eyes flicked to the sketchbook he’d placed on the desk.
The open sketchbook – where an image of Katie looked up at them. He flipped it closed. “You can go now, Nan.”
She stood there another moment, her arms crossed.
Angrily, Craig flipped the laptop around to show her Angela’s image on the video feed. “She’s never out of my sight, Nan. You don’t need to worry about her trying anything.”
The housekeeper’s expression didn’t change. She gave a disgusted sigh. “That may be, but that doesn’t mean you’re actually seeing her. Miss Angela and I ate lunch out, do you require anything?”
“No.”
“Will you be out for supper?”
“No.”
“Very well,” she answered. “And when will you be home from New York?”
“I’m not…” He sighed again when her accusing gaze rested on the sketchbook again. “You can go now.”
She sniffed derisively at him at this second dismissal, but turned on her heel and left the room.
He should probably call Kevin, Craig thought again. He turned the laptop back around, looked for his wife again. She was off the phone and out of Belle’s stall. There was that much, he thought as he clicked through the feeds to find her. She was outside Buster’s stall, petting the dark brown Morgan horse. Probably talking to the beast that had almost killed her earlier this summer, but if so her voice was too low to carry to the camera’s microphone.
In the end, Craig didn’t call Kevin. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and propped his feet on the desk again. Still, it was some time before he picked the sketch back up where he’d left off at Angela’s interruption. There was no light in it, as there had been none in his relationship with the other woman. The darkness of his art mirrored his heart.
54
H er resolve to give her husband space lasted almost two weeks. After their movie had finished late Sunday afternoon, Craig had kissed Angela’s forehead and disappeared into his office. It had been the first time his lips had touched her since he’d come home.
Hoping it was a sign, Angela had raced upstairs though it was early yet. She showered, and she shaved, and she primped; the entire time Princess lay across the bathroom door like a guard. Although the silly dog did roll on her back each time Angela crossed back and forth over the threshold, so her belly could be rubbed.
What to wear? Angela thought as she dug through her dresser drawers. Her hands hit something silky, and she pulled it out. It was pink and filmy and lacy across the top.
And memory pushed its way forward:
Angela was back in Las Vegas. She felt nervous as she stood at the large glass windows of their hotel room. This city was so bright, even though it was late. Or early. She wasn’t sure what time it was. The glass was cold beneath her hand holding the curtains back, though the room at her back was warm.
He was walking across the room towards her. She could see Craig’s reflection in the window and her breath hitched a little. She had just married this man, and she was a little afraid of what was coming next. He stopped to stand beside her.
“We’re so high up,” she said. God, what a stupid thing to say! “How did you get all this on short notice?”
His hand reached out and touched her cheek. It was such a gentle touch, yet it made her feel so warm, so loved. His voice was soft, but he sounded amused. “I took a huge leap of faith early in the week. It was a calculated risk, but I was prepared to lose money if you said no.”
Oh. She managed to nod. “It’s been fun. I’m glad…I’m glad we’re here.”
“So am I.” He cleared his throat and withdrew his hand from her. Turning his own gaze out the window, her new husband said, “It’s been a long day, so if you want to wait until after we’ve had some sleep, I’ll understand.”
“No…I…” She looked up at him. Hadn’t she been clear about that on the way here? She wanted his hands on her in the worst way, but maybe he wasn’t so sure himself? “Do you want to wait?”
He shook his head and returned his gaze to her. His pretty brown eyes were intense as he said, “No.”
This was happening, wasn’t it? Relief filled her, but she was even more nervous now. Was she ready? “Do you mind if I change into something I bought?”
His face colored as his eyes glanced down her body. “Go ahead.”
Slipping into the huge bathroom, she hurried to get out of her dress. Her panties would be fine, they were part of the set Michelle had helped her pick out. Pulling the pretty pink top out of the bag, she pulled it over her head. She adjusted her breasts in the stretchy lace, loving the feel of the silky material below the lace as it fell against her stomach. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she was beautiful like Craig thought she was. She felt it in this moment.
Should she take the gems out of her hair? She started to, but heard music beginning to play in the other room. It sounded like Trisha Yearwood. She’d deal with the barrettes later.
&nbs
p; Her hand fell on the doorknob, and as she opened the door …
The memory faded.
“Oh, come on!” Angela muttered, her bare bottom on the carpet. When had she sat down? “That’s not fair!”
Princess was nudging her shoulder.
Wiping tears off her face she didn’t remember shedding, Angela patted the dog. She pulled the top over her head and hunted for the bottoms. Crossing to the full-length mirrors on the closet doors, she stood before them as she had in the memory.
She was taller than Katie, and not dainty despite being a little underweight. Running her hand under the top, she was glad to not feel her ribs sticking out. Her hands adjusted her breasts in the fabric much as she had in her memory, and Angela wondered what her husband would think of them after having touched larger ones. Well, at least one larger one.
How had they managed to get that shot?
Shaking her head, Angela returned to the bathroom and began looking for the sparkly barrettes she’d worn the day she had been married. Finishing her primping, she checked the time. Almost eight. If her husband kept to his new habits, it would be a long time before he came up to bed.
Pulling a light robe over her outfit, she decided to go back downstairs. Letting Princess out the kitchen door, she crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a pint of ice cream. Grabbing a spoon, she filled it with ice cream and flipped it over before putting it in her mouth so ice cream landed directly on her tongue.
Sighing at the Death by Chocolate combo, Angela decided to walk down to her husband’s office. The door was closed, as usual. Should she knock? Leaning close with her ear to the door, she heard the soft murmur of his voice. Maybe her husband was talking with Kevin?
Sitting on the floor, she put her back to the door and leaned against it as she ate her ice cream. This way, even if she fell asleep, she’d wake up when he opened the door. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, or anything his friend replied. Occasionally there was a burst of laughter.