On this particular Thursday Ella had been a bundle of energy. From the moment he’d arrived in the morning she had been on the go, dancing around the house, coaxing Daniel into endless games of hide and seek, teaching him the long-forgotten joys of finger-painting, then begging to go to the park. He had no idea a small child could be quite so tiring. He marveled at the fact that Marienne was able to do this daily with little or no assistance from Frank.
They spent three hours at the playground before Ella was ready to head home. Daniel was overjoyed when she said she’d like to watch Sesame Street. He was exhausted.
By the time he got home he wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and climb into bed with a good book. He was in bed reading when Justine arrived home. He glanced at the clock. It was already after ten pm. He was surprised it had gotten so late.
Justine breezed into their bedroom, looking impossibly fresh and neat, hardly at all different than when she’d left in the morning. Her lipstick had faded to a thin blush and her eye shadow no longer defined her eyes, allowing them to look ever so slightly fatigued, but at a glance she was still the picture of perfection.
“Hey,” Daniel watched her slip off her jewelry and lay each piece in its proper place on her vanity.
“Hey.” She didn’t even glance at him.
“How was dinner?”
“Boring as hell.” She stepped out of her skirt and disappeared into the closet. He heard her take a hanger off the rack. She walked back into the room, still not looking at him. “How was your day?”
“Good.”
“Oh, I forgot. It’s Thursday. Was there a fascinating episode of Teletubbies today?”
Daniel frowned. She shrugged and met his gaze, her eyebrows high.
“Ella prefers Sesame Street. She was very sweet today.”
Justine narrowed her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear this.” She changed into a tank top and boy shorts and took a seat on her side of the bed.
“When we got home from the park I turned on the TV, and Ella disappeared into the kitchen. I assumed she was getting goldfish crackers, but she was taking a long time, so I went to check and found her standing on the step stool, scooping peanut butter onto a slice of bread. I said ‘Ella, I’d have made you a sandwich.’ And she said ‘It’s not for me. It’s for you’.” Daniel pictured her, standing at the kitchen counter, looking like a miniature version of Marienne. “She’s so….”
“I’m sure she’s amazing.” Justine slipped beneath the covers and leaned over to kiss him. She swirled her tongue around his then pulled away, wiping her mouth. “You taste like peanut butter. I hate peanut butter.”
Daniel stared at her. “I’m trying to explain to you how extraordinary it is to be around this little person for an entire day, and all you can say is that you hate peanut butter? Doesn’t it interest you at all? Children? The idea of bringing a new life into the world and watching it develop its own identity? Does that hold no appeal for you whatsoever?”
Justine sighed and flopped onto her pillow. She didn’t answer.
He turned toward her, and placed his hand on her stomach. His fingers slipped beneath her shirt. “Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to have a baby, our baby, growing inside you?”
“No.”
His heart sank.
She said it again. “No.”
“Are you sure?” His voice felt gravelly, his hand remained motionless.
“I’m positive.”
He reached for his book and said nothing as he re-opened it.
“Daniel,” she said. “It’s not for me. I never wanted to be a mother. Never. It’s not something I see myself being any good at, and honestly it’s not something I want to try. Being with Ella seems to make you more certain you want a child, but it has the opposite effect on me. I look at her, and I look at Marienne, and I think ‘thank God that’s not me.’ It’s not what I want.”
He couldn’t look at her.
“I know you think it’s fun to do this once a week,” she said, “and that’s great, but I don’t know if you’ve thought about what it would be like on a daily basis. Kids are permanent. They’re a commitment and a drain on your energy. Look at you, one afternoon in the park and you’re exhausted. I want my life. I want business lunches, and dinners out, and people begging to hear my ideas. All of that is exhausting enough. I don’t have time for a child. And I don’t want one.”
Her words hit Daniel like pellets of ice. I don’t want one.
He’d known, for a while, that she likely felt that way, but he’d managed to hold out hope that she would change her mind, that she’d reach some turning point and realize she did want a child. Tonight’s statement left no room for such an interpretation. She was clear and precise.
It’s not what I want.
The words echoed, leaving him cold from head to toe.
Justine ran her fingers over the edge of the sheet. “I’m sorry. It’s just not for me.”
She rolled over and within moments he heard her breathing slow. She was asleep.
Daniel lay awake beside her. The book was propped open on his chest, but he saw none of the words. Instead he saw images of Ella, dancing around her house, of Marienne playing with her, swinging her around. His mind flashed through memories of her pregnancy, her fears and joys, her worries about being a good mother. Then he thought of Justine’s ice-cold words and their unbearably grave meaning.
She doesn’t want a child. Ever.
He felt unspeakably empty. The book fell against his chest as he ran his hands through his hair. He massaged his forehead to soothe the aching sensations. His thoughts drifted again to Marienne. The sound of her voice, her laughter, the sweet vanilla scent of her. The always surprising happiness he felt when he was around her. The warmth that passed through him when she was near him.
He forced himself to open his eyes, to look at Justine, to see if there was any remnant of their past connection. He felt nothing. Watching as she slept he wondered where all the passion he had once felt had gone.
Or if it had ever existed.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Daniel’s insomnia was becoming more frequent. Unable to sleep he wandered outside to look at the stars. He settled into the lounge chair allowing the cool night air to soothe him.
BeeeBeeeeeep. The familiar sound of the home alarm being set sounded in the distance as Daniel began to awaken. The gentle summer breeze grazed his face as his eyes fluttered open. It was the sound of a car starting that brought him fully awake. He realized he was still outside, and the sounds that had awakened him meant Justine had set the alarm and was leaving for work.
“Shit.” He jumped up and nearly tripped over the watering can before he realized that Justine’s car had already pulled down the street. The option of chasing her to Main Street, in his boxers, did not strike him as a good idea.
“Shit.” He ran his hands through his hair, looking down at his faded Jane’s Addiction shirt and blue checked boxer shorts. He worked the sleep from his eyes with two aggressive index fingers. I can’t believe I fell asleep outside. Idiot.
He didn’t have many options. Justine had made sure the alarm company had the house wired to perfection. Breaking in would mean, at the very least, a lengthy conversation with the police about why he was locked out in his underwear. Not appealing. Or he could go to Marienne and Frank’s house and borrow their copy of his house key, in his boxers.
Also not appealing.
He sat down on the lounge chair. The neighbor’s grey and white cat trotted into his yard and came to sit with him. The cat rubbed its soft head against Daniel’s leg, demanding to be pet.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare key, would you?” He scratched beneath its chin. The cat closed its eyes and purred.
He looked at his watch. It was almost 8:30 in the morning. He had to be in the city in less than two hours. He had to act now. Straightening his t-shirt was pointless, but he did it anyway, trying to adjust himself in some ma
nner that might make him look even the slightest bit less ridiculous. It wasn’t working. Head held as high as possible, he walked across the yard. He tried to pretend that walking up to the door in his underwear wasn’t the most pathetic thing he’d ever done.
He raised his hand to knock, but wound up rubbing his knuckles against his chin instead. He raised it a second time, but only got as far as resting it on the doorframe. He brought his forehead down to rest on his extended arm, groaning at his own stupidity. Just knock, get it over with already. He raised his hand once more and the inside door swung open.
“Daniel?” Marienne asked, looking confused.
“Morning.” His hand raked through his hair, several times, before he tried to strike a natural pose, arms folded. His face burned.
Marienne surveyed him up and down, unable to keep the smirk off her face. “Can I help you?” Her eyes twinkled. “Coffee? Key? Or me?”
Daniel almost lost his balance. His jaw dropped. He wondered if he’d heard her right.
She giggled and held the door open. “I’ll guess key. Come inside.” She disappeared into the laundry room.
He hadn’t spoken yet. He was still thinking about the coffee, key or me offer. Obviously it was a joke, but…but…he felt even more aware that he was standing in her kitchen in his underwear.
He heard her rummaging through the cabinet searching for his key.
“Here.” She leaned into the doorway and tossed him something dark blue. “You might want to borrow these. There actually is coffee, too.”
He caught her eyes for only a moment and saw they were sparkling like mad. The blue item was a pair of Frank’s sweatpants, which Daniel gratefully stepped into before pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee.
“Found them.” Marienne entered the room, jingling his keys between two fingers.
She placed them next to Daniel then took the lid off the cake stand on the counter. “Muffin?”
“Thank you.” He grabbed the top one off the pile.
“Ahh, he speaks. I was beginning to think you lost your voice with your pants.”
She’s enjoying this far too much.
“Funny,” he said, between bites of muffin. “You’re a very funny girl.”
She grinned, dropping a splash of cream into his coffee and handing him the sugar bowl and a spoon. “So, are you going to tell me? I mean if you’d wanted a muffin so badly you could have called. I’d have brought one over.”
“I’m an idiot.”
She shrugged, not disagreeing.
He frowned, but ignored the look. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went onto the porch to look at the stars. Apparently I dozed off, because the next thing I remember is hearing a beeping sound and watching in horror as Justine pulled out of our driveway.”
“Didn’t she wonder where you were?”
“Don’t know. I guess she must have assumed I’d already left for work or else she wouldn’t have set the alarm. Maybe she forgot I live there.”
Did I really just say that?
Marienne seemed lost in thought. Her dark hair was swept into a messy pile on the back of her head, loose strands hung around her face, framing her delicate features. Her summer robe draped over her tiny shoulders, falling off one, revealing the curving slope of her neck. Beneath the robe she wore a cotton tank and shorts. The whole outfit gave her a casually sexy look that he realized was making him quite aroused.
Coffee, key or me, echoed in his head. Oh God, get a grip. It’s not even nine in the morning. How many times do you plan on embarrassing yourself in one day? Just this once more. He allowed himself another long look and felt the corresponding response course through him. He had never been so grateful for sweatpants.
“I have to get going.” He popped the last bite of muffin into his mouth, willing his body to settle down. “Thank you for the keys. And for breakfast.”
“My pleasure. Oh, wait.” She ran back into the laundry room. He heard more rummaging. “Your alarm system, there’s a different key if she locked the storm door.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure these will work.”
“Keep your pants on,” she said, emitting fresh peals of laughter.
****
Marienne watched as he walked home.
“Coffee, key, or me?” she said aloud to the empty room. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
What’s wrong with me?
She had seen him walking across their yards while she poured herself a cup of coffee. She’d stepped away from the window so he wouldn’t see her, and straightened her shirt and twisted shorts. She’d caught a glimpse of her reflection in the stainless steel toaster oven. She was a wreck. Hair a complete bird’s nest, strands clinging to her neck, baggy clothes, shiny morning face. She’d grabbed a paper towel and wiped it over her nose and forehead trying to reduce the oily sheen.
When she’d heard him on the porch, she’d held her breath, waiting for a knock, but it didn’t come. There was shuffling, but nothing else. Figuring he must have been locked out, she couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t knocking once he was standing on her deck. Wondering if he was okay, she’d walked over and opened the door.
One look at him told her he was fine, just embarrassed. She’d never seen his face so red. It was endearing, and more than a little sexy, to see him standing there, t-shirt and boxers, blushing furiously. The coffee, key or me line slipped out. She was horrified the second she said it. As if the poor guy wasn’t embarrassed enough now he had his goofy neighbor hitting on him. What was I thinking?
She knew the answer all too well.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Justine slammed her dresser drawer. “The last thing I’m in the mood to do is spend an evening hanging out with Marienne’s college friends.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious to meet them? She’s talked about them for years.” Daniel took a clean shirt out of the closet. “Ella’s at her grandmother’s house for the weekend because they’re all going to some friend’s wedding tomorrow. It’ll be just adults tonight.”
“I don’t see why we have to go.” She pouted as she pushed past him.
“Because I said I’d bring the beer. Besides, Frank said it’s Game Night. It’ll be fun.”
“Game Night. Sounds more like nightmare.”
****
Justine strode into the Valeti’s house, pausing neither to knock nor to hold the door for Daniel as he struggled with the huge cooler. He watched as she sauntered straight into the dining room. She’d gone out of her way to dress sexy, skintight black jeans, a fitted low-cut sweater, and sky-high heels. Please don’t let her make a scene.
“Hey. You made it,” Frank said. “You want a cosmo?” He held up a pitcher.
“No, thanks. I’m gonna have a beer. You should offer Justine one. Maybe it’ll improve her mood.”
Frank laughed. “You got it.”
Daniel reached into the cooler for a beer and felt Marienne come up beside him. He turned and looked into her smiling face. “I’m glad you’re here.” Her voice instantly soothed him. “Come, I want to introduce you to everyone.”
Marienne’s college friends were funny and smart. Darla worked for a major law firm, and Beth was a fashion designer who’d created a new line for the GAP. Their husbands were equally impressive. Darla’s husband, Phil, worked at the same firm and was on track to make partner. Beth’s husband, Don, was in real estate and had just listed a home that was featured in House Beautiful.
Daniel noticed that Justine was ignoring the women in favor of chatting up both Phil and Don. She flirted liberally, laughing at their jokes, flitting her hand across their arms. Justine caught Daniel watching her from across the room. Her eyes glinted at him. She put down her empty glass and reached into the ice bucket for a beer.
“Let me get that.” Phil took the bottle from her hand and twisted off the cap.
“Thanks.” Justine’s eyes did not leave Daniel’s. She tilted her head back, arching her neck as she dran
k. Her tongue skimmed her lips. She smirked as she returned her attention to Phil. Daniel gripped his drink and tried to focus on what Beth was saying.
“Hey,” Frank said. “Enough chatter, this is supposed to be Game Night. Come on. Let’s see who brought their game.”
“What are we playing?” Darla asked.
“I know,” Beth said. “Let’s play ‘I never’.”
“What’s ‘I never’?” Frank asked.
“None of you know how to play?” She scanned the room.
“Well,” Don said. “I heard you talk about it enough after your ‘girls’ weekend’ last summer, but you know I’ve never played.”
“Me neither,” the rest concurred.
Beth grinned. “Okay, I’ll explain. We sit in a circle, like musical chairs, one less seat than there are people, so we’ll say three allowed on the couch, two on the love seat, one on the chair, and we’ll bring in one more chair.”
“Right on it, babe.” Don jumped up and grabbed a chair from the dining room.
She counted as she pointed to everyone. “Perfect, seven seats, eight of us. Now for the rules. The person in the middle has to name something they’ve never done, so for example, if you’ve never had sushi you say ‘I never ate sushi’ then anyone who has eaten sushi has to get up, and find an empty seat. Whoever is left standing has to name something they’ve never done.” She took the beer out of her husband’s hand and took a swallow. “You have to be honest. You can’t lie and say you’ve never done something you actually have done, and if you have done whatever it is you need to own up to it and stand. Everyone got it?”
Chuckles mixed with a chorus of “Oh my Gods.”
“Okay,” she said,” I’ll start.”
“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Marienne asked. She noticed that Daniel grinned, and she smiled back.
“Shut up.” Beth swatted at her. “Okay. I never went to Greece.”
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