He looked completely stricken by her words. “Our marriage hasn’t failed.”
“Then why do you have divorce papers all ready to whip out? Huh?”
He looked so stunned Laura almost laughed.
“No answer? The man who doesn’t lie has no answer?”
“Mommy,” Mary said, nestling her head against her neck. “I’m cold.”
“Okay, sweetie,” Laura said, feeling guilty about fighting in front of her. She glared at Brian. “I’m through talking for now.”
She walked away and he let her. Brian watched until she was out of sight before hanging his head and staring at the sidewalk as if it might give him some sort of wisdom. Laura would never believe that he’d been calling off an almost affair. One week ago his lunch with Heather might have ended differently—like in a hotel room. But today he told Heather he would never leave his wife, never tear apart his family. He couldn’t do it, not when Laura had given him so much hope in the past few days, not when it was so damned obvious that she was trying her best to make things right.
The truth was, Laura was right. He had given up on her, their marriage. And now he had to find a way to win her back.
It was after nine o’clock by the time Brian pulled his Honda into the driveway. He was reluctant to open his door to the frigid air outside—and the frigid air he was almost certain to encounter inside. The house looked normal; the Christmas tree still sparkled in the front window, and the outside lights were on. Still, he didn’t know what he’d find when he opened that door. He knew what he should expect: an empty bottle of something and soft snores coming from the sofa. Maybe he was as dumb as a brick, but he didn’t think Laura would be comatose on wine.
“Only one way to find out,” he said aloud before pushing open his door. He’d rehearsed in his head what he’d say, the denials, the explanations. The fact was, he had cheated on Laura a hundred times, if only in his heart. He’d had himself convinced that Heather was what he needed, someone light and airy and low maintenance. A quick fix to what was ailin’ him. It was hard to resist a woman who loved you, and Heather loved him. He’d thought he’d had strong feelings for her, too—until Laura walked in and he saw that look on her face. She’d been devastated, hurt, angry, and he couldn’t believe he’d been a big enough prick to do that to her. In that moment, Heather became what she really was—a rebound girl, someone to make him feel good, someone who made him feel as if he mattered. Now he’d not only broken his wife’s heart; he’d broken Heather’s. She didn’t deserve that, and neither did Laura.
He could tell himself a hundred times that Laura had hurt him, that she deserved whatever she got. But when he saw her looking at him as if he’d just taken her sunshine away—and holding Mary in one arm and Christmas packages in the other—he’d felt like a jerk. Hell, a guy couldn’t sink much lower than he’d sunk, getting caught holding hands with another women in front of his wife and baby girl.
Brian opened the door, almost hoping she’d be in the living room asleep, hoping he’d get some kind of reprieve before encountering her, hoping she’d give him an excuse to be angry with her. But she was right there, sitting at the kitchen table with a half-full glass of chocolate milk in front of her, staring at it the way she used to stare at an empty gin and tonic. In that moment, he realized he would always love her, was amazed he’d thought he’d ever completely lost his love for her. She didn’t look up when he entered, and she looked so damned vulnerable all he wanted to do was pull her close and hold her until she forgave him.
“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I was telling Heather that we could never have an affair. I was planning to, I won’t lie about that. But I swear we never even kissed.”
She swallowed but still kept her eyes on that chocolate milk as if it was the only thing keeping her sane.
“Do you love her?”
“No.”
Finally she looked up at him, her eyes dry but filled with so much hurt, his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.
“She loves you,” she said.
He nodded.
“When were you planning to give me those papers? After you two screwed?”
He pressed his jaw together. “Something like that.”
“Always honorable.”
He didn’t want to, but anger started bubbling in his gut. “Listen, you put me through hell for months. I never knew if you’d be home when I got home or if you’d be passed out on the couch with the kids staring at the television. I didn’t have an affair, but I know plenty of guys who would have.”
“Oh, well, let’s just give you a medal for not cheating on your wife,” she said, finally looking as angry as he knew she must feel.
“You’re right, I do deserve a medal.” She let out a snort. “Have you been living in this house for the past two years or not? Or do you just not remember how miserable we’ve both been?”
To his surprise, she started laughing.
Laura shook her head, laughing at herself, at her predicament, at her reaction to what she’d seen. She’d been here for only a handful of days; she couldn’t know how miserable they’d both been. Her memories of those months leading up to that fateful Christmas Eve were hazy at best, overshadowed by years of suffering and drinking, of simply surviving. But she couldn’t explain that to Brian.
“I’m not proud of myself, Laura. But these past months, I needed someone to care whether I lived or died. You didn’t.”
She didn’t argue because she didn’t have a single thing she could say in her defense. Sure, he wasn’t the angel she’d thought he’d been. But he wasn’t a complete bastard—if she believed him about how far his relationship had gone.
“How did she take it?”
“What?”
“Your girlfriend.”
She could almost hear him grinding his teeth together. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
She gave him a look of exasperation. “Fine. How did she take the news that you were not going to consummate her love?”
“Not well.”
Laura smiled. “Could you explain to me why you broke it off?”
His gaze slid away from her. “It was what you said about not giving up on us. I guess I figured it was too soon to completely give up on us.”
“You really think so?”
“I don’t trust you,” he said, and his words hit her like soft blows to her heart. He had no business trusting her, she knew that, but still it hurt. “But we did have a life together. We were happy.”
“We were. I remember that,” she said, sounding slightly desperate to her own ears. “We got married because we were madly in love and thought it would last forever.”
“We were just kids.”
Laura lowered her gaze once again to her chocolaty glass. “I still feel like a kid. I’ve lived a whole life, and in my heart, I still feel like a kid. I want someone to take care of me. To kiss me when I’m hurt, to make bad things go away. But they don’t go away. They stay there and haunt you and slowly kill you.”
“You’re only a kid if you believe someone can make everything better for you. Wishing for it doesn’t make you a child. Wishing for it and knowing you can’t have it is what makes you an adult.”
Laura felt a wave of despair because she knew he was right. She couldn’t have what she wanted simply by wishing it. “I have things I want so badly,” she said, but couldn’t finish for the tears clogging her throat.
Brian moved to the table and sat down. His hand moved toward hers; then he stopped. “Like what?”
“Like I want to be here forever. I want things to be better. I want all the bad things in my head to go away. I don’t want you to . . .” The tears overflowed. Die. I don’t want you to die.
He grabbed her hand then, a convulsive gesture that almost seemed against his will. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Can we try, Brian?”
He gave her hand a squeeze, then let go. “We can try.”
CHAPTER NINE
; December 23
Laura looked out the window at the large fluffy snowflakes falling from a gray-white sky. It was supposed to rain tomorrow, ruining what would have been a white Christmas. She couldn’t remember that Christmas, what her kids had wanted from Santa, what the weather had been like. Her only memories had been of those divorce papers and getting very drunk alone in a hotel until Tammy showed up to help her drown her sorrows.
With all her power she was going to make sure that no matter what happened tomorrow, she would remember this Christmas and smile. She would remember her children’s faces when they came down the stairs and saw those presents; she would remember what their jammies looked like, their favorite gift, their mussed-up hair. She’d remember it sweetly, even if it ended badly, even if she woke up in hell or heaven. God, please let me remember these days.
Yesterday was Zack’s Christmas pageant. She couldn’t remember going to it those years before. This time, she’d walked into that auditorium and listened to those Christmas carols, her little boy’s short solo, as if it were all the first time. This time she would remember. This time, this time. God, her heart was breaking, because she felt this looming sense that it was all going to end. People didn’t go back in time, they didn’t change the past. The feeling of unreality was growing the closer she got to Christmas Eve. She found herself praying to a God that not too long ago she would have sworn didn’t exist. She wondered if He was up there having a good laugh or crying for all that could have been.
It was Saturday morning, and the kids were still in their PJs and watching Sponge Bob on TV. Brian was in the basement trying to put together Mary’s spring horse. She was pretty certain Mary hadn’t gotten a spring horse that last Christmas, but this year she would. Mary, when she was all grown up, would remember getting a spring horse, something she’d wanted with all her heart, something her mommy hadn’t known the first time around.
Laura poked her head down the stairs and heard Brian swearing softly. Tiptoeing down, she spied him lying beneath the toy on the concrete floor and pulling at the horse with all this strength, trying to get a spring in a tiny little hole in the horse’s frame and missing time after time.
“God dammit,” he said, letting the whole thing go.
“Need some help?”
“Yes. Hell yes. How the heck do they expect someone to put this thing together alone? What if some single parent buys this thing? They’d have to give it to the kid like this.” The pink and white horse hung awkwardly from three springs.
“You got three in,” Laura said, trying to make him feel better. Nothing could be more endearing than seeing him struggle with his daughter’s pink and white horsy. He looked ridiculous and wonderful.
“Okay, you guide the spring end thing into the hole while I pull it. Ready?”
“Ready.”
He pulled, his entire body straining, while she tried to put the damn spring in the damn hole. “Stop moving so much,” she said, getting frustrated. Then it slipped in, and Laura let out a whoop.
“I’ve been down here more than an hour with this thing,” he said, leaning back and placing his hands on the cold floor.
“You’re my hero,” Laura said, planting a quick kiss on his lips. She went to straighten, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back for another kiss. Heat, like Laura hadn’t felt in a lifetime, coursed through, slow, hot, and thick. She let out a small sound, and suddenly she found herself on the floor lying on top of her husband making out like a teenager. He felt so good, so solid and strong and warm. So much like Brian. Those memories, of how he felt, smelled, sounded, came roaring back. He kissed her the way he had when they’d been dating, all wet and sexy and slow. Her body, her young body, sang with need and want, and she pressed herself against his fast-growing erection.
His hands went down her pants and squeezed her butt, and he moved against her, a desperate man, breathing hard, pressing her close, moving rhythmically against her.
“You feel so good,” she said, pushing herself against him. And when his hand went lower and moved between her legs and entered her, she nearly came. “Oh, Brian, Brian.” He moved his finger in an out once, twice, and she convulsed around him.
He chuckled, surprised, pleased. “Damn, Laura, that was fast.”
Her body was on fire, singing with pleasure, wanting more. Incredible. She’d always just sort of drooped and sighed after an orgasm. She’d never asked for more. But this time, she couldn’t help herself.
“I want you inside me,” she said, pressing against his erection, forcing a groan out of him.
“Mmoommmyy.”
Brian groaned again, but this time not in ecstasy. “Shit. Whose idea was it to have kids?”
“Both of ours, if I remember correctly.”
Again came the wail, as if she didn’t answer at that very second, Mary’s life would end.
“Coming,” she called.
“You sure were.”
“Ha ha.”
It had been a long time since she’d had sex, but her physical reaction to his touch was—mind-blowing. They’d had a fairly active, normal sex life. Satisfying. Maybe a little boring, like any couple who had been married for years and had a bunch of kids ready to ruin the moment. But Laura was fairly certain, even though it had been a long, long time since she’d gotten lucky, that she’d never quite felt so turned on in her life.
Maybe it was a little fringe benefit of this strange excursion of hers.
That night they all went out for a walk in the snow. It was warm after the five-inch snowfall, and a surreal fog lifted off the snow. The neighborhood was quiet, the lights from the houses twinkling in the odd light of the foggy darkness.
Brian held Mary—her legs weren’t working again, apparently—and Zack and Justin had run up ahead with a well-known top secret plan to ambush their parents with snowballs. As they went around a corner, two snowballs plopped by harmlessly, followed by groans of disappointment from the two boys.
“Better luck next time,” Laura said, laughing.
She laughed, but her heart was slowly breaking. This was too perfect; it couldn’t last. The sense of foreboding was growing, but all Laura could do was try to enjoy each moment she could. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she had been given a gift and she was home for good.
But maybe she’d wake up tomorrow and it would all be gone.
“Brian,” she said, her throat clogged with tears. “I love you.” He could never know how big an admission this was. She’d fallen in love with him all over again.
Brian stopped and looked at her, his eyes moving over her face. “I thought I’d never say this to you again, but I love you, too.”
“Too left-handed.”
Brian dropped Mary down, and she thankfully ran after her two big brothers. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. Two weeks ago I thought I wouldn’t care if you dropped off the face of the Earth, and right now I’m looking at you thinking I’d die if you did.”
Laura grinned. “A little better.”
“I thought that was kind of good.”
“It sounded sincere, but you could drop the whole not caring bit the next time,” she said, sounding put off.
He growled and pulled her close. “You know I love you.”
“I know. And I’m amazed.”
Zack let out a whoop as he pummeled Justin with a snowball to the back. Mary, noticing her parents were no longer engrossed with each other, walked over and held her arms up. Brian scooped her up, and Laura had to look away. At that moment, she hated herself with a renewed sense of loathing. How had she given this all up. How?
“I want to make love tonight,” she whispered. One last time.
Brian smiled. “I think that’s a plan.”
She wanted to remember this night, how Brian felt beneath her hands, how his eyes looked at her as if she were beautiful. Three kids had done a number on her body, she knew that, but he still looked at her as if she were twenty years old with a flat stomach and high firm breasts.
<
br /> When he came to bed that night, she was naked beneath the covers, a little surprise for her husband and one that was met with a grunt of satisfaction.
“God, it’s been so long,” he said.
“You ain’t kidding.”
He ran a hand down her body, and she closed her eyes. My husband is going to make love to me. A man who died twenty years ago, a man I destroyed.
“Brian,” she said, feeling panic grow. “Make love to me.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing.”
“No. Make love as if it’s the last time. As if . . .”
He kissed her, and she knew it was to shut her up. She let him. She welcomed his mouth, his tongue, his body pressing hotly against hers. She ran her hands through his thick, soft hair; she pressed herself against his erection. She felt electrified, magnified. When he pulled hard on her nipple, when he moved his hand down between her legs, when he touched her and entered her and moved inside her, she wanted to scream out her pleasure.
“Inside me,” she panted, and wrapped her hand around his penis.
“We don’t have to hurry.”
“Yes, we do. Next time we can go slow, but right now, Brian, I want you inside me. I’m going to . . . God, Brian.” She came, her breasts hot, her entire body on fire. He chuckled, all proud, as if he’d invented a woman’s orgasm.
“I told you so,” she said when she could talk.
“Why don’t we just go for two?” he said, so smugly she had to laugh.
She’d never had more than one orgasm. That night she learned to never say never.
CHAPTER TEN
Jingle All the Way Page 14