Sex and the Widow Miles (The Women of Willow Bay)

by Reinhardt, Nan

  Then he guided me into the steamy shower, closed the door, and wrapped his arms around me, rocking with me under the warm spray while I wept.

  ELEVEN

  “No. I don’t want you to fix it. Just get rid of it, okay?”

  Less than twenty-four hours after I’d had the worst news and the best sex of my life, Will and I were arguing. “Throw it off the balcony. Toss it in the lake. Put it in the street and let the damn garbage truck run it over. Get it out of my sight. Please?”

  “Julie, that’s dumb.” Will fidgeted with the mouse next to Charlie’s laptop. “A waste of a perfectly good and very expensive laptop. How about if I remove the email program and reinstall a brand new one?” His voice took on a coaxing tone which at that moment was irritating the hell out of me.

  “No.”

  I wanted the fucking thing out of the apartment and out of my life. I never wanted to see it again.

  “You’re acting like a child.” Pulling the little optical thingy from the side of the computer, he fitted it into the bottom of the mouse.

  “You should know.” A catty thing to say, but he was missing the point entirely. And I knew for a fact he wasn’t that obtuse. Couldn’t he see that the laptop represented more than Charlie’s infidelity? That it mocked the last thirty years of my existence?

  “Jules, it’s not the computer’s fault.” He’d let my snarky retort go.

  He was way too nice a guy—he only wanted to help me deal with the devastating discovery of Charlie’s affair. Or affairs—who the hell knew? I was still so angry I could barely breathe, and dammit, the son of a bitch wasn’t around to scream at… or kick in the balls. At that moment, I could’ve knocked Charlie’s lights out if he’d been present.

  “I know that.” I paced the high-ceilinged kitchen in Carrie’s apartment, debating the wisdom of trying to explain my attitude to Will. How could I make him understand? “It’s that he used that laptop to talk to her, to be with her.” I swallowed hard, determined not to cry again. He’d certainly had enough of my tears last night.

  “So now… what? It has cooties?”

  I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. I hadn’t heard that word since I was twelve. He was right, of course, but I simply couldn’t bear the thought of ever touching the machine again. I held one hand out. “Tell you what, I’ll keep the mouse, it’s mine. The rest of it goes. Now, please.”

  “How about I wipe the hard drive?” he offered. “Reload the programs and start fresh and clean.”

  I paused, staring at the laptop. Just the sight of it left a bitter taste in my mouth, but curiosity niggled in the back of my mind. If I was ever going to know the whole story, I might need the computer and the emails to figure out who she was. Did I want to know? My head shouted, yes, find her and kick her butt, but my heart cringed at the very thought.

  Before I could say anything, Will leaned over to grab the leather bag under the table. “The bag, too?”

  “Everything.”

  “Do you want to check it and make sure there’s nothing in it you want to keep?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Papers? Mail? Cash? Stuff you might need?” Holding the bag up, he shook it.

  “Oh, for the love of—” For the life of me, I didn’t want to touch Charlie’s laptop satchel. Frankly, it didn’t matter what was in it.

  Will stared at me, one brow raised, daring me to take it from his fingers.

  I reached for it, jerked the zipper on the front pouch, and emptied it onto the countertop. A roll of butter rum Lifesavers hit the granite, along with three pens, a flash drive, and a handful of change. In the slim side pocket was one of Charlie’s ten or twelve pairs of reading glasses—the rimless ones he’d told me he’d lost.

  Another lie. The bastard.

  The cords for recharging the computer fell out of the main compartment and the larger pocket on the back held a New Yorker magazine, a brochure from Tuckaway Winery, six wine corks—also from Tuckaway—and two unused Band-Aids.

  I tossed the bag and the cords to Will. “No secret documents. No condoms. No tell-all journal.” I’d given up trying to keep the anger out of my tone.

  “You’re sure?” He stuffed the computer in the bag and zipped it up as I swept the rest of the stuff off the counter into the trash compactor.

  “Yes.”

  “Julie, listen.” Tucking one finger under my chin, Will lifted my face to his. “At some point, you gotta deal with this.”

  Twisting away, I turned to stare out the breakfast nook window at the lake in the distance, my hands curled into fists at my sides. Will put his arm around me and tugged me back against him. I let my head rest against his strong chest.

  Deal with it.

  Yep, that was what I needed to do. “I can’t, Will.” Voice quivering, I gulped back tears. “It hurts. Dear God, it hurts and now I’m such a mess again.”

  “Julie, come on—” His hand smoothed down my back, easing the tension in my spine. “You’ve had some bad news and—”

  I jammed my elbow into his stomach, pushing him away from me. “Bad news?” My voice rose to shrill on the words. “Seriously? That’s what you call it? I find out my perfect marriage was a nothing but a–a sham and you call that bad news? Jesus, Will. You have no idea what I’m feeling, do you? Can you even imagine what it’s like to find out the man you thought adored you was busy doing it with another woman while you were taking care of his house, his kids… his life?”

  A torrent of words poured out of me as Will stood still as a statue. I couldn’t stop them. “The bastard was screwing around with God knows how many women the whole time he was pretending to be this perfect husband and father. Oh, and don’t forget—Dr. Wonderful. Everyone in that damn town believed he was right next door to a saint.” I took a breath before continuing to seethe. “Oh yeah, Saint Charlie… works the soup kitchen in Traverse City every Thanksgiving morning, spends hours sitting with patients post-surgery, attends PTA events—even if it means he has to come in late because of an emergency—never misses a single goddamned anniversary or birthday. Not once.”

  I snorted. “Don’t think I didn’t wear that like a badge of honor when my friends bitched about their husbands forgetting special days. Hell, Charlie brought me flowers or jewelry or something on the anniversary of the day we met, for sweet Christ’s sake.”

  “Julie, take a breath. Come here.” Will crossed to me and laid his hands on my shoulders. “If you need to rant, then rant. But let me help you.”

  “How? How can you help me?” Squirming out of his grasp, I paced the kitchen into the dining room, the living room, casting about desperately for something I could throw. Rage boiled inside me. “I just want to hit something, break something. To hurt someone. I’ve never been this angry in my life.”

  “Here.” He met me by the grand piano and handed me… his shoe?

  I gazed up at him. “What?”

  “Throw it. Hurl it against the door. If it leaves a mark, we’ll get it fixed.”

  “It’s okay.” I managed a weak smile. “Thanks, but I don’t need to throw your shoe.”

  “Do it,” he encouraged, his head cocked toward the wood front door. “Just chuck it. You’ll feel better, I promise.” Obviously he sensed my hesitation because he toed off his other loafer. “Look. Over there. Isn’t that Charlie by the door? Let him have it.”

  I hefted the shoe before I drew back and launched it with every ounce of strength I could muster.

  Take that, you asshat.

  The leather loafer hit the door with a very satisfactory whump.

  “You got him. Right on his big fat head.” Will tossed me his other shoe. “Do it again. I think he’s still conscious.”

  His grin was infectious. So with a wicked smile, I took a pitcher’s stance, wound up, and threw the loafer as hard as I could.

  “And he’s out!” Will shouted with a raucous hoot. “Want to do it again? Take your shoes off.”

  But I was
exhausted and suddenly out of the mood to lob any more shoe grenades. “Thanks, Will.” My voice cracked.

  No, goddammit, no more tears! I refuse to cry over that man, ever again.

  Instead, I brushed past him to the kitchen where I opened the wine fridge. “I’m thinking a big glass of wine would be good about now.”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Will agreed and took the bottle of wine from me. “Go sit on the couch. I’ll bring it to you.”

  I flopped on the sofa as he found the corkscrew and opened the pinot noir I’d pulled from Liam and Carrie’s stash. After filling two glasses, he joined me. I could tell he was trying unobtrusively to judge my frame of mind. I stared off into space as I sipped, shoving the hurt down.

  I wanted to explain the mishmash of emotions roiling inside me. Betrayed? Most certainly. Hurt? Beyond words. Furious? Absolutely. But as I sat there, I went from angry to sad to confused, and it must have shown on my face.

  “Talk to me,” he coaxed. “What’re you thinking?”

  “Who is she?” In one rather ungraceful move, I sat up, curled my feet under me, and faced him.

  He shrugged and took a drink of wine. “Who knows?”

  “No. Really. Who is she?”

  Teeth worrying my lower lip, I stared at him, but I wasn’t really seeing him. Instead, I was racking my mind, sorting through over thirty years’ worth of friendships, acquaintances, work colleagues—anyone at all Charlie might have been screwing.

  “Why do you need to know who she is? Who any of them were?” He slid over and tugged me into his arms without spilling a drop of wine from either of our glasses. “He’s gone. It’s over.”

  I settled against his broad chest, drawing comfort from the warmth of his body next to mine. “But… I think… I think he loved her. I read the emails. They were crazy about each other.” A long sip of wine and several deep sighs later, I went on, relentless in my examination. “I don’t know how many women there were over the years, but this one wasn’t a one-night stand, Will. Or even a fling. They were involved for at least two years that I know of. It could’ve been longer than that.”

  “Again, why do you need to know anything else?” Tipping his head to one side, he peered into my eyes. Gently, he brushed my hair back from my face. “How will it help you to know this one’s name?”

  “I don’t know.” With a shrug, I cuddled closer to him, wishing like crazy that he could simply erase all this from my mind.

  “Say you find out. Will it stop there?” The question was reasonable, and when I stared up at him, he continued. “Then will you have to go on a hunt for every floozy he ever hooked up with?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let it go.” Easing my now-empty wine glass from my fingers, he set both our glasses on the table before he wrapped his arms around me. “Just let it go.” His fingers sifted through my hair while his other hand smoothed the tense muscles of my back.

  I relaxed against him. I realized now that, although I’d gotten so much better since being in Chicago, I was still fragile. News of Charlie’s double life had devastated me. I hadn’t slept at all after I left Will’s place. Confused and too sick and angry to lie still, I’d paced the apartment the rest of the night, going from one room to another, staring out at the city lights, rehashing my marriage in my head. How could I have been so blind? How did I not see it? And who was she? What was her hold on my husband?

  I knew there had to be a way to figure out who the woman was—maybe do a reverse search on the email address? Was that even possible? Will would help me if asked him to. If I could find this one, maybe she’d lead me to the others—if there were others. Oh hell, there had to be others. A cheater never cheated just one time, did he? Maybe I didn’t want to know how many other women there’d been. Perhaps simply finding out who Charlie had been screwing around with at the end would give me some sort of peace.

  Sliding my arm across his stomach, I allowed myself to settle deeper into Will’s embrace, even though I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the new turn in our relationship. Ironic because I was the one who’d taken it to a higher level. When I’d left him last night, I had no idea where we were headed or if I even wanted it to go anywhere, but I’d stopped fighting the attraction.

  The moment he appeared at my door with breakfast and a concerned smile, it was obvious he was all in. He wanted me despite how I’d used him, despite the difference in our ages, and despite the fact that I was an emotional basket case. He was sticking. I had to decide if I was.

  But not now. Not today.

  We turned together and stretched out on the sofa. Will held me close, and his breathing grew slower and more rhythmic. I curled into his warm body and shut my eyes too.

  TWELVE

  Norah Jones woke me with a start. Dopey from sleep, I raised my head from Will’s warm chest, blinking to clear my contacts.

  Where the hell’s my phone?

  The ringing stopped then started up again as I pulled myself off the couch—off Will—and stumbled into the kitchen to retrieve it from the counter.

  “Mom?” Urgency colored Kevin’s voice. “Hey, Mom?”

  “I’m here, honey. What’s up?” I rubbed my face, before peering at the clock on the microwave. Two-thirty in the afternoon. God, I’d really gone down for the count. We’d curled up together around noon or so.

  Will wandered in from the living room, yawning and stretching like a cat. With his sweatshirt pulled up and his t-shirt hanging out of his khakis, he looked rumpled and sexy. As he raised his arms above his head, I got a peek of tanned stomach that sent a tingle right through me.

  “Meg’s in labor.” Urgency shifted into excitement in Kevin’s tone. “We’re timing contractions. They’re nine minutes apart.”

  “Kevin, she’s early.” I tried to remember what they’d told me a few weeks ago about the dates being mixed up. “Isn’t it too soon? I thought she wasn’t due for three more weeks.”

  “Apparently, the baby’s decided to come now. Her water broke a couple of hours ago.”

  “Are you at the birthing center?” My heart pounded. I was about to become a grandmother.

  “Yup. We came right after. The OB says it’ll be sometime in the next eighteen hours.” Kevin’s breathing came fast, as if he’d been running. “Mom, we’re having a baby.”

  “You sure are, honey.” I gave Will a giant smile as he pulled open the fridge and perused its contents. “Meg’s in labor,” I whispered.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Is it going to happen today?” After grabbing two bottles of water, he bumped the door shut with his elbow.

  “I think so.” With a finger in the air to hold Will’s questions, I focused on Kevin, who was also chattering to Meg in the background. “Kev, tell Meg I’m on the way, okay?”

  I had to get to San Francisco. Meg’s parents had died when she was a teenager. Her older sister, Sherry, raised her until she went to college at Michigan State, where she met my son. She had no other close family, and I’d promised to be there for the birth of the first child of this new generation. “Where’s Sherry?”

  “In Denmark at a physics conference. I left her a message and texted twice. No answer yet. She’ll be wrecked if she misses this, but I don’t know what else to do.” Kevin’s unerring sense of hyper-responsibility for everyone had already kicked in. “Mom, call the airline and talk to them in person. You’ll get a better fare. Tell them you’re coming for the birth of your first grandchild… Oh, my God! You’re going to be a grandma.” He chuckled and I heard Meg giggling, too. “Are you ready for that?”

  “More than you know.” In my mind, I was already packing and figuring out the logistics of getting from the airport in San Francisco to the kids’ apartment in the city. Which BART station was closest to their place? Was it Powell?

  Taking a deep breath, I focused. “I’m going to go now and get things together. I’ll call you back when I know what flight I’m taking.”

  “Okay, I’ll com
e get you at the airport.”

  “Absolutely not,” I insisted. “I’ll BART to you and call you when I get off the train.”

  “Mom… “Worry seeped into his voice.

  “Kevin… “I parroted his doubtful tone. “Stay with your wife. I’ll be there soon.”

  “I love you, Mom. Hurry.”

  “I love you, too. Give Meg a hug and tell her I’m on my way. I’ll see you soon.” I stuck the phone in my pocket and twirled around once before throwing my arms around Will’s neck.

  Engulfing me in a giant hug, he kissed me soundly. “A baby,” he said when he released the kiss and tipped his head down to stare into my eyes. “You’re gonna be the hottest grandma in the world.”

  I rested my forehead against his shoulder for a moment. “You dope. God, I can hardly believe it.” When I glanced up at him, his expression was full of wonder and so much affection I didn’t even try to resist kissing him again. I pressed my mouth to his, letting my tongue run along his lower lip, seeking entry.

  I’ll give you hot grandma, baby.

  Hands sliding down my spine to my hips, he pulled me hard against him, opening the kiss even more, tangling his tongue with mine. His arousal pressed against my belly as his tongue teased. How amazing, the effect our kisses had on him… and on me. Immediately, I wanted to ransack Carrie and Liam’s apartment for a condom and haul him back to my bed. Dear God in heaven, the man’s kisses sent me right to mindlessness. I pressed closer as his hands sought my behind.

  Dammit.

  At that moment, I needed to be thinking and planning, not falling into ecstasy with Will. With great reluctance, I broke the embrace.

  “I have to call the airline and book a flight,” I said, rubbing my lips as if I could keep the imprint of his mouth there. “And I have to pack and close up… oh, and call Sarah at the shop… and Carrie… and get a shower… “

  “You call Sarah. I’ll get you a flight.” He pulled out his cell phone and touched the screen. “Do you need a hotel or will you stay with the kids?”