The Husband Campaign

by Barbara McMahon

  “Did you eat?”

  “Yes. Did you?”

  “I grabbed a sandwich. I have a list of places on the West side that are in good neighborhoods. You didn’t mention your price range, but these are moderate,” Jake said, handing her a computer printout from the corner of the desk.

  “I didn’t expect all this,” she said, scanning the list. “I brought the paper. I read all the ads this morning and circled a couple that looked appealing.”

  “Maybe we can find something today,” he said, ushering her out. But only if it was perfect. It wouldn’t hurt her to remain in West Bend a bit longer. Long enough for him to get her out of his system, at least.

  The first apartment had already been rented. But the second looked promising to Kerry. She followed the manager through a winding walkway lined on both sides with neatly trimmed shrubbery. The grassy area was small, but neatly cut. Flowers dotted the landscape providing colorful spots of color against the deep green expanse.

  “Two bedroom, but the price is real competitive,” the manager said as she opened the door and stood aside for Kerry and Jake to enter. “You two take your time. I’ll wait here.” Smiling, the woman turned to look over the grounds.

  Kerry walked around the living room. It seemed small after her aunt’s spacious house, but was larger than her apartment in New York. There was a small patio area beyond sliding glass doors. She walked over, wondering if she could put planter boxes there. It was in the shade now, but maybe it received morning sun.

  “It’s a bit small,” Jake said.

  She turned around. “Not for an apartment. My place in New York is smaller than this and I was lucky to get it. You’re spoiled, living in that big old house.”

  He raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

  Kerry walked down the short hall to the first bedroom. It was tiny, with a window high in the opposite wall. Moving to the next room, she knew it was the master bedroom. It was a bit larger and had an adjacent bath. Like the first bedroom, it only had a single window high in the wall. The room was rather dim, but it didn’t matter if all she planned to do in it was sleep.

  “Let’s check the kitchen,” she said, turning. She almost bumped into Jake. He studied the room for a minute, then looked at her.

  “I don’t like it,” he said. “It’s dark and small. You wouldn’t like it here.”

  “I like the living room. If the kitchen is adequate, it would be a possibility. But I would want to see the others first.”

  By the time the afternoon drew to a close, Kerry was no closer to finding a place than she had been that morning, and about ready to scream in frustration. Jake had criticized every place they’d seen. Either the apartment was too small, or did not provide enough security, or was in the path of too much traffic, too noisy, too old…His criticisms never ceased.

  When they pulled away from the last building, Kerry glared at him. “This was a waste of time. You insulted that manager worse than the others.”

  “I insulted no one. If he can’t stand to hear a few home truths about the neglect around the place, he shouldn’t have let things fall apart. This is the worst of the bunch.”

  “I liked the first one we saw and that one on Rose Street.”

  “You wouldn’t be happy in either,” he stated.

  “You’d be surprised what I can be happy in. I’d fix it up so it was perfect for me. And the price of that one on Rose Street is attractive.”

  “Probably hiding dry rot or a leaking roof, it was so cheap.”

  Kerry sighed, holding on to her temper by a thread. “You know, Jake, I don’t think this was such a good idea.”

  “What?” he asked, maneuvering in the heavy rush-hour traffic.

  “Your coming with me. You’ve never had to find an apartment. They are different from houses. I can’t expect the same kind of amenities a house offers.”

  He frowned. “I had an apartment in college.”

  “Then think back, what was it like?”

  “Small, noisy and crowded, just like half the ones we saw today. They won’t do, Kerry.”

  She looked out of the window. It was a lost cause. Next time she’d go apartment hunting alone. In fact, she might drive back to the one on Rose Street in the morning and see if she still liked it. Jake had no real say in her life. If she still wanted that apartment when she saw it again, she’d take it.

  Kerry glanced at Jake. “At least your house now is totally different from your apartment. You have all those rooms and live there alone. It is large, quiet and empty.”

  He frowned. “It’s home.”

  “Do you ever get lonely?”

  “Do you?”

  “I did when I first moved to New York. And even sometimes after I’d been there a while. But now that I’m back, I haven’t been once. Sally is close enough we can see each other whenever we want. We talk on the phone almost every day. I’ve been seeing other friends. There’s something special about being with people who have known me since I was a little girl that’s missing with friends in New York. I’ll miss them when I move, but I think coming to Charlotte will be the best thing for me.”

  Jake turned into the parking lot beside a large restaurant. “Italian all right with you?” he asked.

  “Yes, sounds wonderful. I’m hungry.”

  They were soon seated in a quiet booth. Jake ordered a carafe of red wine, then waited for Kerry to decide what she wished to eat before placing their orders.

  She smiled at him and raised her glass. “Thanks anyway for today.”

  “I don’t think any of the apartments were any good for you.”

  “But that has to be my decision, right? You chose that huge house. What do you do in it, sleep in a different bedroom every night? You should have a large family to fill it up.”

  He shook his head. “Never happen.”

  “You never want children?”

  “No.”

  “You’d make a great father, I bet,” she said.

  Jake hesitated a moment, studying the wine the steward had poured into his glass. If he were honest, he’d admit to wishing for a son or daughter. “The risk is too high,” he said slowly.

  “What risk?”

  His gaze met hers. “The risk of a failed marriage, of a woman deserting her children.”

  “All life is a risk. Your wife could be killed. You could be killed by a runaway truck tomorrow. There are no guarantees,” Kerry said softly, her heart aching for him. “And why are you always looking on the worst-case scenario? What if she didn’t leave? What if your marriage didn’t fail, but ended up lasting for over fifty years?” She wished he’d be willing to try. She would never leave him. If he married her, there would be no risk.

  Appalled at the thought, she swiftly reached for her glass. She was not even in the running for Jake Mitchell!

  “Maybe I need to find someone like you used to be. Someone who thinks I hung the moon.”

  “If you ever do, don’t turn on her and kill that adoration. It hurt,” she said softly, remembering.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” Jake said.

  “You meant to do whatever would discourage me.” She shrugged. “Water long under the bridge. Ah, garlic bread and salad. I love Italian food. This was a good choice.”

  The conversation moved to different levels, strictly impersonally from Kerry’s side. She had danced too close to the flames to feel comfortable discussing Jake’s solitary state. He’d had a chance years ago and thrown it away. She was not in the running any more.

  Jake knew the subject of children had been closed, but he couldn’t discount the idea now that she’d brought it up. What would it be like to be a father? He knew he would not repeat the mistakes of his own father. But would he make others, equally wrong? Would he rear a child who didn’t feel strongly about him? His father had essentially left the same time as his mother, only his body had remained to confuse his young sons.

  If Jake ever had a child, he’d make sure that kid knew he or sh
e was loved beyond belief every day of his life.

  For a moment he glanced at Kerry, wondering what it would be like to have a child with her? His hair was dark. Would the child have black hair, or light hair like Kerry? Would his eyes be a warm chocolate brown?

  Ruthlessly bringing his wayward thoughts under control, he listened to her chatter about the differences in apartments and wished she would stop talking about moving away. Her aunt and uncle would not be returning home for another two months. She should stay and housesit. There’d be time enough after Peggy and Philip returned for Kerry to find a place of her own.

  When they finished eating, Jake drove back to the office so Kerry could pick up her car. He followed her to West Bend.

  Kerry parked in the back of the Porters’ house. Shutting the car door, she waited. Should she just wave good-night? Or wait to see if he wanted to continue the evening. Slowly, she crossed the grass toward Jake. She didn’t want the evening to end just yet.

  “Come in for a nightcap?” he asked as she approached.

  “I’d like that.”

  She had not been inside his house since they’d been teenagers. Curious to see what it looked like, she followed him through the back door.

  The kitchen was tidy, though rather plain. He poured them each a small snifter of brandy and motioned to Kerry. “Go on through to the front. We can sit on the porch if you like.”

  The hallway leading from the back to front was plain. Kerry wondered if the entire house was this way, or if Jake had his stamp on certain rooms. A peek into the living room as they passed convinced her he didn’t spend a lot of time decorating.

  “Where are your pictures?” she asked, sitting on one of the chairs that lined the front of the house.

  “I don’t have many. Boyd doesn’t send pictures. My Dad would never get before a camera.”

  For the first time since she’d known him, Kerry felt sorry for Jake Mitchell. The man who seemed so in charge of his life and destiny now seemed lonely and alone. Her heart ached to provide him all he needed. But she wisely kept her thoughts to herself. If he wanted something different, he’d go after it. Of that she had no doubts. But he’d missed a woman’s touch growing up. Still did, it appeared.

  “What are you going to do about an apartment?” he asked.

  “Keep looking I guess.”

  “Saturday?”

  “What?”

  “I could go with you on Saturday.”

  “No, thanks. I think I’m better doing it on my own,” she said with a teasing smile. “You intimidate the managers.”

  “Only that old lady who thought we were looking at it for ourselves.”

  “A natural mistake when two people look at a place together.”

  “Maybe. Stay here until your aunt returns.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “Is that the lawyer’s way of avoiding explaining?”

  Jake reached out and lazily pulled her from her chair into his lap. Kerry went willingly, carefully setting her brandy snifter on the railing and leaning against his hard chest. He’d taken off his suit jacket, removed his tie and loosened the top buttons of his shirt. Wrapped in his arms, she could felt the heat radiating from his strong body.

  “I want you, Kerry,” Jake said before his mouth met hers. His lips were warm and firm as he moved to deepen the kiss.

  Kerry answered his kiss with one of her own. If this had happened eleven years ago she’d have been in heaven. Now she was wiser. At least she hoped so.

  But it still felt like heaven. His kiss shattered her composure and she reveled in the sensations that rushed through her. His hands moved against her arms, fingers threaded in her hair. Then he moved to cup one breast and Kerry’s breath whooshed out in surprise. Heat exploded deep inside and she shifted slightly on his lap to give him better access. She was burning up, but could do nothing but respond with everything inside her to the delight of his embrace.

  Sanity resurfaced and she pulled back. Danger loomed over her like the sword of Damocles. She had loved this man years ago and he’d spurned her. Was she crazy to allow herself to draw closer now?

  Pushing herself away from Jake was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she had to. “I have to go,” she said, breathlessly.

  “Don’t go, Kerry. Stay with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  She all but ran to the safe haven of her aunt’s house. Jake’s voice called her, but she didn’t pause a step. Only after the kitchen door was firmly shut and locked behind her did Kerry draw a deep breath. It had happened. Despite all her efforts, all her good intentions, she’d fallen in love with Jake Mitchell.

  “Oh, nooo,” she wailed. She had thought herself immune to the man but she craved him like an addiction. She loved him just the way he was. Like Megan and her Frederick. Jake annoyed her sometimes, but she would never change a thing about him. If he’d only come to care for her. But she knew that was a foolish dream. One she’d thought she’d outgrown. Obviously not.

  Too upset to even think, she grabbed the journal like a lifeline. She’d started jotting down the different ingredients to give to Sally. Quickly she reviewed the list, tucking the paper in the front of the journal. Tonight her emotions wouldn’t allow her to think through the list. She’d read to see what Megan did next. The longing to skip ahead to see if Megan and Frederick had married was strong. But for some reason Kerry wanted to watch the relationship unfold as it had happened. She’d find out soon enough. For a moment, she fervently hoped that Megan had found all the happiness she wanted with Frederick.

  Today is the last of the spring cleaning. We are doing the parlor. First we had to wash the curtains. They are so heavy when wet and wringing them out takes Mama and me working together. The boys dragged the rug to the line in the back and spent the afternoon beating the dirt from it. As I dust and rearrange the things on the marble table, I took special note of the different items. Daddy’s pipe is always waiting for him. The derreotype is old and I carefully cleaned it, asking Mama where it came from. Her smile is secretive, her eyes distant. Your father and I bought that together long ago, she told me. She looked around the room and smiled. Most of the things here we bought together, she said.

  It’s a wonderful thing to make a home with another person, Mama told me. To find what is special to you both, and then keep it where you can touch it, enjoy it, remember the happy days when you obtained it. A home should be restful and serene. A safe place for everyone to return to at day’s end. Especially for a man. He’s been out in the world all day fighting to make a living that will suit him and his family. The last thing he needs when he returns home is chaos.

  I wonder if Frederick and I will build a home together? Will we have furniture and decorative items that will hold special meaning for us? Make home a calm and serene place so a man can rest when he is there, Mama said. It is advice I must always remember. Strive to fill his life with little things that show you care. Mama and Daddy have the derreotype and the other things in the parlor and their bedroom. What will Frederick and I have?

  Kerry closed the journal and dreamily gazed off into space. She could make Jake’s house a real home. Fill it with color and pictures and paintings, with love and laughter and genuine caring. Show him he need not live like his father had, cut off from the special touches that make home a wonderful special place.

  If she ever got the chance.

  Which she wouldn’t.

  Sighing softly, Kerry closed the journal and tried to go to sleep. But the memory of Jake’s lips on hers refused to fade. She wished she’d stayed for more.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A soft answer turns away wrath. You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

  —Megan Madacy’s journal, Summer 1923

  The parlor is spotless. And it gave me a good feeling when I entered to greet Frederick when he came over last night. Mama and Daddy sat with us for a while. Then they permitted us to sit on the porch alone. Frederi
ck told me about his day and I told him what I had done. For a moment I felt like we were truly connected in a way strangely different from anyone else on earth.

  Then he spoiled everything. He said he’d heard something about me that was displeasing. Without thinking, I flared up and before I could say spit, he was angry. He had the audacity to lecture me as if I were still a child. I turned eighteen months ago. I am a woman full grown and his saying I was childish was the last straw. I stood up and told him what I thought.

  We were too loud. Mama rushed out on the porch to see what was going on. Frowning at me, she cordially bid Frederick good evening. Then she sat with me and asked what had happened. When I explained, still so furious I wanted to stamp my foot, she nodded and took my hands. Megan, she said, there will be many difficulties in life’s road. But a soft word turns away wrath. Never forget that.

  I tried to defend myself. His accusations were false. She smiled and nodded, telling me she suspected as much. Another thing to always remember is you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Be your sweet self and he will come around.

  Mothers can be trying at times. I wanted her to stand up for me, vilify his name. Instead, she gives me another old saying.

  Yet, there is some merit in it I can see now that I’ve calmed down. Maybe I reacted too swiftly.

  I shall bake him some cookies and take them round this afternoon. I’m sure Mama will say that is proper. And I will go as far as apologizing for my temper. But not for anything else. If he can’t accept that, he’s not the man for me.

  KERRY JOTTED ANOTHER line or two on her list and closed her eyes. The sun felt good against her skin. The dark glasses sheltered her from the harsh glare. The warmth made her sleepy. She had to watch the time—Jake would be home soon and she didn’t want to be in the yard sunbathing when he returned. Her discovery last night that she still loved the man continued to worry her. She dare not let him suspect.