Perfect Piece

by Rebeca Seitz

  He sat until the details of the day’s work gave in and left his mind. Only then did he realize Meg’s van wasn’t in its place beside his in the garage. All this time he’d been sitting here and the house was as empty as Jesus’ tomb.

  Chuckling, he snagged his briefcase and headed inside. Otis greeted him at the door, his curled tail wagging as best it could.

  “Hey, boy.” Jamison bent down and scratched the dog’s ears. “Need a trip outside?”

  Meg must have left earlier in the day because not one light greeted his entry. She’d have left a light on if she thought she’d be out until dark. He briefly worried something had happened, but his cell phone hadn’t rung, so all must be right with the world.

  He opened the back door for Otis and watched the dog run off into the fenced-in backyard. Snagging an apple from the refrigerator, he bit into it on his way up the stairs to get more comfortable clothes on. It took only a few minutes to get out of the button-up and into shorts and a T-shirt. Still no sign of Meg and the kids. His stomach rumbled and he went back to the kitchen to see what Jenny had prepared for them that night.

  A casserole sat on the top shelf with a Post-It note of instructions for heating. He pulled it out and turned on the oven to the recommended 350 degrees. Tapping his fingers on the countertop, he thought about waiting until everyone else got home before heating up dinner but another stomach growl convinced him they’d understand. He slid the casserole onto the middle oven rack and went to the living room.

  Might as well watch some television until they returned. He flipped through the channels, but the only things on were local news and a bunch of home shopping shows. Neither caring about the events of the day nor that he could get a genuine Diamonique ring for only three payments of $233.97, he turned the set off and sat in the dark.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat in this house and heard silence. Always one kid was running through or yelling or laughing or Meg was by his side. He never spent time alone here. They spent all their time together.

  Stretching his arms along the back of the couch, he breathed deeply. The house smelled of cleaning products. Jenny’s touch, no doubt. He noted that every surface gleamed and only two toys lay on the carpet. If it meant they could never afford to go out again, he decided he’d keep Jenny on. He’d never say it to Meg, but Jenny kept the house even more spotless than Meg had. And the kids seemed to adore her.

  He leaned his head back and relived the happy weekend he’d shared with Meg and the kids.

  Please, God, let her still be in that frame of mind. How long would it take before he quit having that thought? Before he quit worrying that he’d come home to the Wicked Witch of the West?

  Not that he expected Meg to be in a happy mood every minute of every day. No one lived that way. But the hatefulness that invaded her after surgery—that he could live without for the rest of his life.

  His gaze traveled to the clock. Was Karen still at the diner? Probably. They stayed open for the early dinner crowd, according to the hours of operation posted at the door. He tried to imagine her at eighteen, fresh out of high school and faced with her dad’s death and the responsibility of running his business but couldn’t do it.

  Oh well, he didn’t need to be thinking of her anyway.

  A new thought occurred then, one that made him lift his head and straighten his spine. What if he introduced Meg to Karen? They had a lot in common—that’s why he’d enjoyed the verbal sparring with Karen in the first place. He bet if they met each other it’d be one of those situations where instant girlfriends were born.

  Then again Meg would want to know how he knew Karen, and he couldn’t lie to her. Couldn’t act like he’d never been to Wimpy’s and this was a chance encounter. He and Meg didn’t lie. They didn’t hide things from each other. Well, until this. He’d not told her about his trips to Wimpy’s, but there really wasn’t anything to tell, so it didn’t count as a deception. Not a real deception.

  He relaxed his head back onto the couch. No, introducing them required too much planning and too high a possibility of needing to lie. With everything finally going great again in his marriage, he had no desire to jeopardize things by letting Meg think he’d done something wrong.

  Even though he hadn’t.

  He heard the garage door go up and rose to greet his family at the door. Clicking on lights along the way, he came into the kitchen and glanced at the stove’s timer. Perfect. Ten minutes before it was ready.

  James was first through the door. “Hey, Dad!”

  Jamison held out his arms, but James completely bypassed him on the way to the living room.

  Savannah came next, a small beach bag on her arm. “Hi, Daddy!” He snagged a hug from her before she could pass him for the living room as well.

  Hannah and Meg came through together, one little hand tucked inside Meg’s, the other holding her pink elephant. “Hi, honey.”

  Meg looked tired but happy. His heart lifted at the sight of her and he rose to come to her. “Hi, yourself.” He kissed her—a kiss that let her know there would be more later, if she wanted, then took the shopping bag from her hand. “You went to Sara’s, I see.”

  “We started out at Joy’s swimming, but then Kendra wanted to shop and I may have found a few things for myself.”

  Jamison knelt down to Hannah, whose eyelids drooped. “Did you go swimming at Aunt Joy’s?”

  She nodded her little head. “I swept with Aunt Tandy.”

  He smiled. None of the kids had been able to make the ‘l’ sound at first. “You did? Did you have sweet dreams?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He picked her up and went to deposit her on the couch with the other two. “I’ll be right back,” he said over his shoulder. “Dinner’s in the oven, be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I’m starved.”

  The kids’ faces were lit by the blue glow from the television screen.

  “Check it out, Dad.” James bounced around the couch, excitement lighting his eyes. “They’re playing the movie about the snow dogs on TV tonight! And we made it home in time!”

  He set Hannah down in the recliner. “Then I think it’s definitely a dinner-in-front-of-the-television night.”

  “YAY!”

  “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll bring your dinner in here. You can watch so long as you eat, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Jamison returned to the kitchen, where he found Meg with the oven door open.

  She looked up at him. “What is this?”

  “A casserole Jenny left us. I think the note said chicken and chives.”

  “Sounds good.” She shut the oven door. “Actually, anything neither of us has to make sounds excellent.”

  He came and slid his arms around her waist. “I’ll amen that.” Her lips met his and he forgot about the kids in the next room and the stresses of work that had plagued him all day. All he cared about right then was her kiss, which she gave with abandon.

  “Careful, Mrs. Fawcett, or I’ll get ideas.”

  “Oh? What kind of ideas?”

  Oh, how he loved the way her eyes twinkled at him. He kissed her again, using actions rather than words to convey his answer.

  “I think I like your ideas,” she murmured.

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I missed you all day.”

  “That’s good since I found myself missing you a good bit of the day as well.”

  “Just a good bit? I’m wounded.”

  “Big baby. There was a part of the day I worried about you.”

  He let go of her and went to the cabinet to get out the glasses. “Worried? What about?”

  “I decided I’d do a little laundry today.”

  Hearing she’d taken on a house chore cheered his spirit further. “You did? That’s great!”

  “Well, it was until I found a receipt in your pants pocket from Wimpy’s. Since when do you go to Greenfield for breakfast?”

 
His hand stilled on the glass. He felt caught but didn’t know why since he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “I’ve gone a few times. It’s a quick drive and they make a mean breakfast platter and one excellent cup of coffee.”

  “Yeah, but you go all the way to Greenfield? Why not Clay’s?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I went for a drive one day to clear my head and ended up in Greenfield. I was hungry, so I stopped at Wimpy’s, discovered the amazing coffee, and thought I’d go get some the next time I woke up wanting breakfast but not wanting to make it.” And wanting fabulous conversation when you couldn’t give it to me.

  He dismissed that thought. He hadn’t replaced Meg, just found a substitute until she could get back to her old self.

  He looked up to find Meg’s gaze steady on him. “Jamison, we don’t keep things from each other.” Her voice held an undertone of warning. “Are you keeping something from me? Because it feels like you’re keeping something from me.”

  He was. He knew he was. And he knew what … or, more to the point, who. But telling Meg about Karen would be like throwing water on a man who’d just recovered from a near-drowning. Cruel and completely unnecessary. Besides, Meg stood on dry land now. No need to throw water around. “No, honey, I’m not keeping anything from you.” Meg let out a breath and he set the glass down and went to her. “What did you think?”

  “I didn’t know what to think. It just felt so weird that you were off somewhere eating without me and now I find out you’ve gone several times and it feels … strange. You’ve been having breakfast somewhere and I didn’t have a clue. It makes me wonder if there are other things I don’t know and I’ve never had that thought about you. About us.”

  “Oh, honey, there’s nothing else you don’t know.” That you need to know. “I went off for breakfast. No big deal. Really. Please don’t question us. We’re fine. We’re good.” He took her hands in his. “I promise.”

  Her blue eyes met his and he held the gaze, praying honesty shone in his gaze.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “But please don’t start keeping things from me. I know we’ve had a couple of hard months here, but that’s no reason to start hiding stuff from each other.”

  “Absolutely. I didn’t mean to hide this from you, it just never came up.”

  She nodded and sniffed.

  His heart twisted at the sound. She’d shed plenty of tears these past weeks but, so far as he knew, none of them because of him. He hated bringing tears back to her eyes. He pulled her arms around him and then put his around her. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He held her for a minute, watching the seconds count down on the oven timer and dreading the buzzer that would break their embrace. But, inevitably, the clock hit 0:00 and the buzzer sounded. She left his arms and turned toward the stove. He didn’t get a glimpse of her face before she turned.

  “Go tell the kids it’s time for dinner.”

  “I told them they could eat in front of the television tonight. James is watching that movie about snow dogs.”

  “Oh, I forgot. He’s been talking about it all afternoon. He saw a commercial for it and has been waiting.” She took the casserole from the oven and set it on the stovetop. “I guess we get to dine alone, then.”

  He wiggled his brows. “I’ll find the candles and put the ice in the glasses. You get their plates ready. K?”

  “Okay.”

  Her voice didn’t hold quite the level of energy and happiness he’d heard this morning, but she also didn’t sound mad, so he chose to focus on the positive. He went to the dining room and took the candlesticks from their place on the large table. He didn’t want to eat with her eight feet away from him. The round breakfast table would be better.

  Carrying the candlesticks in each hand, he came back into the breakfast room and set them on the table. He went and poured three cups of milk, then carried them into the living room.

  Hannah was close to sleep. “Hannah, wake up, sweetie. Dinner’s ready.”

  “Okay,” Hannah mumbled.

  He doubted she made it through dinner, much less the movie. Setting the cups down on the end table, he looked around for the TV trays. They rested against the far wall. He no sooner had them set up over each child’s lap than Meg entered with three plates of casserole.

  “Here we go, kiddos.” She placed a plate on each tray. “Daddy and I are eating in the breakfast room, so yell if you need anything, okay?”

  “Mm hmm,” Savannah responded.

  James, engrossed in the movie, barely acknowledged her. Jamison found the remote and pressed mute. That got the little boy’s attention.

  “Dad!”

  “Your mother was speaking to you.”

  “What, Mom?”

  “I said to yell if you need anything.”

  “Okay, already. Can we watch the movie?”

  “You can watch the attitude or I’ll turn the movie off.” Jamison had known the day would come when James would develop an attitude. He just hadn’t expected it to start at eight years old.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The kid must really want to watch this movie.

  “And remember, if I come in here and you’re not eating, I’ll turn the movie off and bring you all to the table.”

  “Yes, sir.” James picked up his fork and dutifully took a bite of casserole.

  Satisfied the children would at least put forth an effort to eat, he took Meg’s hand and left the living room.

  “They’re really worn out.”

  “They should be. They spent hours in Joy’s pool and you know how the water wears them out.”

  “So, are we okay?” He didn’t want to bring it up, but he needed to make sure the issue had been put to rest.

  “We’re okay.”

  “Good.”

  “Oh, Kendra and I are going garage sale shopping with Zelda this weekend. Can you watch the kids all day Saturday?”

  “Sure. But you’re spending the day with Zelda? Since when do you want to spend time with your stepmother?”

  She spooned casserole onto two more plates and carried them to the table. He brought their water glasses and sat down next to her.

  “Kendra and I talked about it while we were out shopping, and we think maybe we should be making more of an effort to be friends with Zelda. I mean, it makes sense. Now that Daddy’s married her, there’s no getting rid of her so we might as well make the best of the situation, right?”

  “Sounds logical.”

  “Well, Joy has tried to be nice and it didn’t work. Kendra and I thought maybe Joy was a little too, um, proper for Zelda and that we might meet with a little more success if we try.”

  “But garage sale shopping? You haven’t done that since James was a toddler.”

  “I know, but I liked it then and Zelda went last weekend, so we know she likes to go. It’s a chance for us to find some common ground with her.”

  He lit the candles and enjoyed the glow reflecting on her face. “Hey, I’m not trying to dissuade you.” He put the lighter on the table. “I think it’s great that you’re willing to try.”

  Meg sighed. “I wish I could say I’m looking forward to it. I’ll try to have a better attitude about the whole thing by Saturday, though.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  They ate in silence for a bit, simply enjoying each other’s company. He continued to watch the dance of the candle’s glow on her smooth skin. He’d heard that everyone always looked better in candlelight—probably why it was used in so many romantic movies—but Meg looked like a goddess. Even with her head covered in that handkerchief—she didn’t like the shortness of her hair now that it had started to grow back—and the exhaustion of the day clear on her face, she was beautiful. His beautiful wife.

  “You’re staring,” she chided gently.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at you.”

  Her eyes w
idened. “Really?”

  “Of course. Have you looked at yourself? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She gave a half laugh. “I used to hold my own, but not these days. Maybe when my hair grows back in.” She rolled her eyes up to the handkerchief.

  “I like your short hair. I miss running my fingers through your long hair, don’t get me wrong, but with your hair gone I see your face better.” He ran a finger down the side of that face, stopping under her chin. “And it is a gorgeous face.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, though I think you might be blind.”

  “Nope, 20/20 vision.” He let her face go. The cinnamon scent of the candles surrounded them.

  They chatted over dinner. He told her about his day— leaving out the fact that he’d driven to Greenfield just that morning. He knew he wouldn’t be back, so no need to arouse worry in her again. She shared stories with him about the sisters. Before he knew it, an hour and a half had passed.

  He picked up his glass and drained the last of the water there. “I’ve missed doing this with you.”

  “Having dinner?”

  “Sitting and talking. I think that’s what I missed most after your surgery. Remember when we’d sit up all night and talk?”

  She nodded. “We’d look at the clock and try to figure out where the time had gone.”

  “Right. We didn’t do that for a long time before your surgery. And then, after, well …” He let his voice trail off.

  “It was hard to hold up my end of a conversation for a while.”

  “I know.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was complaining. I’m just happy to sit here and share dinner with you again.”

  She squeezed his hand, then let it go and pushed back from the table. “How about we put these dishes away and get the kids to bed?”

  The gleam in her eyes told him all he needed to know. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  Twenty-one

  The week passed by in a blur and, before Meg knew it, Saturday morning dawned clear and bright. At first she didn’t remember what she had planned for the day, only that she’d planned something.