He took a deep breath and then headed back across the hall to the master bedroom. Dawn was in bed, seemingly unbothered by the harsh words that had passed between them. After giving her no more than a cursory glance, he went straight to the closet. When he came back out with an armload of his clothes, Dawn sat up in the bed and asked, “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he said, marching straight to the door. He opened it, and leaving it open, he strode across the hall and deposited his clothes in that closet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked again, when he came back to the master bedroom.
“I’m moving across the hall,” he said, en route to the bathroom to get his toiletries.
“Why?”
His jaw tightened at that stupid question and he didn’t bother to respond. He merely gathered his toothbrush and shaving kit and brought them to the guest room bath. When he turned to go back and get more of his things, he almost bumped into her. She was standing in the guest room with her arms folded across her chest.
“You’ve made your point, Sly,” she said. “Nothing happened between me and Walter and you know it. We went for coffee. That’s all.”
“Good for you.” He stepped around her and headed back to the master bedroom. She followed him and stood quietly while he gathered a few items from each of the dresser drawers. Then she followed him back across the hall.
“Are you trying to embarrass me in front of my sister?” Dawn asked. “I’m sure she’s heard all this noise you’re making. What do you think she’s thinking about us?”
He turned on her. “I don’t care what she thinks. I do care, though, that you’re more concerned about what Francine thinks than you are about this marriage. Well, I’m tired of it, Dawn. You’re going to have to decide. You either forgive me, or it’s over. I won’t live with these taunts or your attitude. I love you but I won’t do it.”
She folded her arms again and looked mutinously up at him. “I have to take you sleeping with another woman but you can’t take a few harsh words?” she scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He refused to let his guilt make him back down. “I’m not kidding. I know I was wrong. I’ve apologized. I’ve put up with your foolishness. I’ve put up with this front that you want others to see, but tonight I’m done.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. “This morning you were talking about counseling. Are you now saying you want a divorce?”
He looked down at the woman he loved more than he’d thought possible. “I think I’ve been pretty clear about what I want. The question is, what do you want? To be honest, I don’t have a clue. I feel like you’re playing with me. This afternoon you’re saying you’ll think about counseling and tonight you’re suggesting that maybe you’re sleeping with somebody else. That doesn’t work for me, Dawn. I can’t stand on the shifting sands of your emotions. I’ve tried this your way, but now I’m going to do it my way.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that since you don’t want to be with me, we won’t pretend that we’re together.”
“You’re moving out?”
He wanted to shake her for being so dense. “Would it even matter to you if I did?”
“Of course it would.”
“But only because of what Francine and others would think, right? Well, I no longer care what they think and I’m not going to pretend everything is okay with us when it isn’t.”
“So you decided this all by yourself and I have no say in it?”
“The days of your say have passed. They started fading when you started throwing other men in my face. I’m done with it, Dawn. If you decide you want me, let me know and I’ll move back across the hall. If you decide you want somebody else, I’ll move out so you can have him. But I’m done with the games.” Sylvester could tell by her expression that he had surprised her. Well, she needed to be surprised. “Look,” he said, “we’re both tired. Why don’t you go to your room so that I can go to bed?”
`Are you sure this is the way you want it?”
Sly shook his head. “But it’s the way it is.” He opened the door so she could leave. Then he slammed it after she walked through.
Chapter 10
Francine took a deep breath and said a silent prayer before she entered the kitchen the next morning. In fact, she’d been praying all morning, most of it for Sly and Dawn. She’d hoped against hope that both of them would either be gone before she came down or still in bed. Her prayer wasn’t to be answered. Sly sat at the table, absorbed in the morning paper. “Morning,” she said, in what she knew was an overly bright voice. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
He smiled at her. “Feeling better this morning?”
She nodded. “Thanks for loaning me a shoulder last night. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
After pouring herself a cup of the coffee Sly had brewed, Francine sat down across from him. “You were right, Sly,” she said. “I have been selfish. I needed to hear you say that.”
He put the paper down. “So you heard us arguing?”
She dropped her eyes and said, “I didn’t mean to.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “I guess we may have gotten a little loud.”
She looked up at him and saw the humor in his voice reflected on his face. “You surprise me, Sly. You think this—whatever is going on with you and Dawn—is funny?”
Sly shook his head and his eyes grew dark. “No, I don’t think it’s funny, but sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying.”
“I knew you were arguing but I couldn’t make out the words to know what you were arguing about. I guess that’s a good thing, since you two deserve your privacy. Can I help?”
“This is between me and your sister.”
“Is it that serious?” she asked.
He met her eyes. “It’s serious. Very serious.”
“Will you be able to work it out?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You do love Dawn, don’t you?”
Sly got up and poured himself more coffee. “Of course I love her. I think I love her more today than I did the day I married her.”
“So what’s the problem?” Francine asked. “Did she kick you out of the bedroom or did you move out?”
“That’s not your business,” Dawn’s voice called from the doorway.
Both Sly and Francine turned to Dawn. “I’m not trying to be nosy, Dawn,” Francine said.
Dawn walked fully into the room. “For someone who’s not trying, you’re certainly doing a good job of it.”
“No need to jump down Fancy’s throat, Dawn. This is between you and me. You got something to say, then say it to me. Don’t take it out on her.”
Francine watched her sister’s eyes flash at Sly. “My husband, the protector. Spare me.” She turned to Francine. “See what you missed out on, Francine? This”—she shot a glance at Sly—“could have been yours.”
The venom in Dawn’s voice scared Francine. Her sister was more upset than she’d ever seen her. “Whatever your problem—”
“Spare me,” she said again. “I don’t need your lectures on my marriage. Don’t get in the middle of something you don’t understand.”
“You’re going too far, Dawn,” Sly warned.
“No, Sly,” she said, “I think you’re the one who went too far.” She turned to Francine. “Maybe we should answer your question, but you’d better be sure you want the answer. Are you sure, Francie?”
Francine didn’t know what to say or do. “Maybe you were right, Dawn,” she said, standing. “This is really none of my business. I’m sorry for putting my nose in. I was only trying to help.”
“We don’t need your help, do we, Sly?” Turning to her husband, she added, “Three people are too many in any marriage, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sly shot Francine a pleading glance. “Give us a minute, will you?”
Francine quickly took hold of the chance to escape a situation she didn’t understand and wasn’t sure she wanted to understand. “No problem. I need to get to work.” She looked at her sister. “Dawn?”
“Go ahead, Francie,” she said. “I promise not to kill him.” She looked at Sly “Today.”
“Dawn—” Sly warned.
“I’m joking. Go to work,” Dawn said to Francine. “Have a good day”
Dawn watched her sister as she left the room. Then she turned to Sly. At the frown on his face, she asked, “What’s your problem? You were about to tell her everything before I came in, so why did you get so bent out of shape when I was going to tell her?”
“Maybe I don’t like the way you were going to do it.”
“Let’s see,” she said, pressing her index finger against her chin. “How many ways can you tell your sister that your husband stepped out on you and then he moved out of the bedroom because you didn’t fall all over yourself accepting his sorry apology?”
His eyes blazed. “That’s not the way it was and you know it.”
Dawn slapped her palm to her forehead. “Look, I must be having mind trouble. Are you telling me that you didn’t sleep with Ms. Fredericka or that you didn’t move out of our bedroom? Help me, because I really want to get this right.”
Sly pushed back his chair and stalked to her. “You’re pushing, Dawn, and you’re pushing hard. Don’t be surprised when I push back.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he left the kitchen.
Dawn dropped down into the seat that had been Francine’s and rested her face on her folded hands. Why was she being so evil to him? When she’d heard Francine’s question, something inside her had snapped. She didn’t want her sister to know that Sly had gone to another woman, didn’t want Francine to know that she, Dawn, hadn’t been able to satisfy him at home. She didn’t want to see the look of pity on her sister’s face when she got that piece of information. She didn’t want to see it on anyone’s face, which was why she was determined to keep all this sordid business between her and Sly.
She still loved him and she wanted to believe his apology, but she couldn’t trust herself to do so. What if he really didn’t love her? What if he’d married her on the rebound and never loved her? What if he’d cheated on her before? What if he cheated on her again?
She bet he wouldn’t have cheated on Francine. They’d been together for years, and during that time, Sly had never had eyes for anybody but Francine. One thing Dawn had never doubted was Sly’s love for Francine. No, it was only his love for her that she doubted. Though she wanted another answer, some miraculous sign from God, she couldn’t get around this one fact: If Sly had loved her the way she loved him, he never would have cheated on her.
~ ~ ~
Sly slammed the door to his office at the funeral home after he walked inside later that morning. To say he was in a bad mood was an understatement. How dare she? he thought to himself. How dare she? Dawn was pushing and she was pushing hard. He was beginning to wonder if she really wanted to push him out of her life. Maybe she wanted their marriage over but didn’t have the heart or the guts to say so. Or maybe she was so concerned about public opinion that her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit to a failed marriage. Whatever it was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put up with it for much longer. He faced enough stress in the world outside—he knew he didn’t need stress at home. Neither did he want a divorce. He loved his wife.
Sly rubbed his hand down the back of his neck. What was he going to do? Well, he couldn’t come up with a solution now because he had a meeting—another meeting—with the execs from Easy Rest. The people couldn’t take no for an answer. The knock on his door told him they had arrived. He took a deep breath to clear his head and then he opened the door. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said to the two men who had visited him on two other occasions.
“Mr. Ray,” one said. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with us again.”
Sly led them to chairs in front of his desk and then he went around the desk and sat in the burgundy leather chair that had been his grandfather’s, studying the two men sitting across from him. They’d come in from Boston in their fifteen-hundred-dollar suits, thinking to impress the local yokels. “If you want to keep spending your money on trips to our fair city, Mr. Thompson, I can’t help but be hospitable to you once you get here.”
Thompson chuckled. “Well, I think you’ll find this trip of great interest.” He glanced at his partner and then he turned his attention back to Sly. “We went back and looked at the numbers again and were able to come up with a better deal—the best deal you’ll ever see from us. The final deal you’ll see from us.”
The hair on Sly’s neck stood up at the threat. He was definitely not having a good day. Two threats in one day and it wasn’t yet noon. He watched as Thompson wrote a figure on a slip of paper and slid it across the desk to him. He didn’t pick it up, but met Thompson’s gaze and said, “I must not have made myself clear the last time you were here, Mr. Thompson.” He slid the slip of paper back over to the man. “We’re not interested.”
Keeping his eyes on Sylvester, Thompson smiled a knowing smile. “Humor me. Take a look anyway” He slid the slip of paper back to Sylvester.
Sylvester bridged his hands over his nose and stared at the slip of paper. He knew he shouldn’t look at it. His decision was already made. Looking at that piece of paper would do one of two things: make him angry at what he considered another low-ball offer or make him regret having to pass on an offer too good to refuse. The latter he really didn’t expect. He glanced up at Thompson. “I don’t need to look at it,” he said. “What part of ‘we’re not interested’ don’t you understand?”
Thompson glanced at his partner, who said, “We’re trying to operate in good faith with you, Mr. Ray. We’re willing to negotiate. Be reasonable. You’re a small family-owned business. We know the past few years haven’t been the best for you. We even acknowledge that you’re doing pretty well despite the recent rockiness. Right now. But how do you think to survive in the changing climate of the mortuary business? The independent, family-owned funeral home will soon be a thing of the past.”
Sly thought about his grandfather; who’d taught him everything he knew about the funeral business, and about Dawn, who considered the business a member of the family. Then he leaned forward in his chair and rested his folded arms on the desk. “I understand the mortuary climate, Mr. Thompson, and I think we’re positioned not only to survive, but also to thrive.”
Thompson sat back in his chair, smugness swallowing his face. “While I admire your optimism and confidence, Mr. Ray, it takes more than optimism and confidence to be successful. Your family has been in this business long enough to know that. From what I’ve heard about your grandfather and his partner, Mr. Amen, I’m sure they would have recognized our offer as a good one.”
Sylvester stood, signaling an end to the meeting. He could listen to these suits talk about his business, but he couldn’t listen to them tell him about his family. He extended his hand. “Thank you, gentlemen, for stopping by, but I have a business to run.
Having no other option, Thompson shook his hand. “You’re making a mistake, Mr. Ray.” He glanced at the paper on the desk. “That’s a one-time offer. You don’t take it today and it’s gone.
“I guess that’s a chance I’ll have to take.” Sly stayed behind the big desk that probably had endured many such skirmishes, while his visitors made their way out of his office and out of the funeral home. He sat in his chair and watched from the window as they climbed into their rented sedan. He sincerely hoped he had done the right thing by rejecting their offer. He swiveled in his chair and stared at the slip of paper they’d left behind. Though he knew he should throw it in the trash without looking at it, he picked it up and opened it. As he balled it up and tossed it in the trash, he wished he hadn’t opened it. He picked up the phone and called Stuart’s clerk. He wanted a meeting about the funeral-home-collective id
ea as soon as he could get it.
~ ~ ~
Dawn watched from the windows as the two visitors drove away from the funeral home. She knew they were from Easy Rest but she hadn’t known they were meeting with her husband. Why hadn’t Sly told her? She sat down at her desk. Probably for the same reason he’d decided to discuss his business idea, whatever it was, with Francine instead of with her. It had been their pattern throughout their marriage—Sly took care of the business and she handled the families. So why did his excluding her bother her now? She’d thought the task distribution was working, that their lives were working, but she’d been wrong. Maybe she’d also been wrong to allow this split in duties. She pushed away from her desk with the intent of rectifying her error.
Since Sly’s office door was open, Dawn had the opportunity to observe him unnoticed. His chair was turned so that his profile was to her, his fingers steepled across his nose, a frown on his face. Despite all the indicators of deep concentration that marred his features, she found his mocha skin, bald head, and brown-black eyes as appealing as she always had. She tapped on the door and he looked toward her with a start.
His frown grew more pronounced. “Don’t start with me, Dawn.”
Her heart ached a bit at his reaction, though it was no less than she deserved. “I was out of line earlier,” she admitted.
His eyes narrowed and she knew he didn’t trust her words. “I can admit when I’m wrong,” she said when he didn’t speak. “What’s up with you, Dawn? These mood shifts of yours are beginning to scare me. Last night you’re threatening to sleep with another man. This morning you’re angry because you think I’m about to tell your sister our problems, and then you immediately turn around and threaten to tell her yourself. I don’t get you.”
She walked fully into the room. “Well, I don’t get myself a lot these days. I’m doing the best I can, Sly.”
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