They worked together making the bed, Audrey snapping the sheets smooth over the mattress and folding crisp hospital corners while Grant stuffed half a dozen pillows into cases and placed them just so on the bed the way Audrey had shown him.
“I feel kind of bad making Landyn sleep in the basement. Especially—in her condition. That hideaway is miserably uncomfortable. But it doesn’t make sense to move her into one of the guest rooms when we’d just have to kick her out whenever the inn fills up.”
“We could just ‘book’ the room, you know.”
She shook her head. “That’s one hundred dollars we’d lose every night if we gave her the cheapest room.”
“But we don’t fill it up every night, Audrey. And it’s not like she’s going to be here long-term.”
She stopped in her tracks and stared at him. It took him a few seconds to feel her eyes on him, but she waited until he met her gaze. “You don’t call nine months long-term?”
“First, she’s already . . . what, three months pregnant?”
“Closer to four, I think. She hasn’t even been to a doctor yet.”
“Is that wise? Shouldn’t she have seen a doctor by now?” He waved his own questions away. “Never mind. Okay, so it’d be more like five months—assuming she stayed until the baby came. But there’s no way those two won’t work things out.”
“You think?” Sometimes Grant’s optimism drove her crazy. “Do you know something I don’t?”
He shrugged. “They’ll work things out.”
“I don’t know . . . Landyn can be so stinking stubborn when she wants to be.”
“Hmm . . .” He scratched his chin. “I wonder where she gets that.”
She snapped him with an empty pillow case. “She might get some of it from me, but I happen to know her father contributed his share of stubborn genes too.”
“Proud of it.” He puffed his chest out and preened until he got a laugh out of her.
That was always his goal. Get her to laugh. And it was one of the things that had drawn her to Grant thirty years ago. But some things were no laughing matter—no matter how you looked at them.
“Audrey—”
His tone got her attention and she looked at him, waiting.
“I think we should put Landyn in one of the guest rooms. It was hard on the kids to lose the house they grew up in. But her most of all. The guests in this house will never be more important than our kids.”
“Oh, just stick the knife in and turn it, why don’t you?”
“Well? Am I right?”
“Of course.” He had her dander up now. “You’re always right. And what if they all want to move in?”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
She flopped the last decorative pillow on the bed, harder than necessary. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but we have a boatload of bills to pay. And booking paying guests is the only way those bills are going to get paid.”
He came around the bed and put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged him off. “The bills will get paid. And besides, Landyn is not going to be here in nine months, or even five months. She’ll come to her senses and they’ll work things out.”
“What about Chase coming to his senses?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it sounds to me like he’s the one calling the shots here. Do you think Landyn should have just followed him blindly to that dump?”
“Listen, I don’t like it any more than you do, but is what Chase did worth a divorce? I do not want to see her throw her marriage away over a disagreement. And after six months? That’s just stupid.”
“But he didn’t even ask her, Grant. He made a life-changing decision for her. When he had to know she wouldn’t agree. And all because he’s chasing that foolish dream of being an artist.”
“I know . . . I don’t like it either. His first priority should be to take care of his family. Especially when his ‘family’ is my daughter. But I’ve been thinking about it, and I wonder . . . would you rather he didn’t have dreams? Dreams are important, Audrey. Sometimes important enough that you just have to suck it up and do whatever it takes to let your partner live their dream.”
Grant had never once tried to make her feel guilty about the bed-and-breakfast—her dream—but she was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about Landyn and Chase anymore. And it did make her feel a little guilty. “Grant, I—”
“Because if you don’t honor the dreams of the ones you love most, you face the rest of your life knowing you kept that person from being everything they could have been.”
“Is that why you . . . humored me? With the inn?”
He shook his head. “I never said this was about the inn. Or about you.”
“But—”
He took her shoulders and kissed her, quickly, before she could slough him off again.
Before she could find her voice, he changed the subject.
“She does need to get her stuff out of my shop. I did not build that to serve as free storage for our kids.”
“Can you make room for her things in the shed?”
A gleam came to his eyes. “Tell you what. If you can make room for Landyn in here—upstairs—I guess I can make room for her stuff in the shed. Deal?”
She sighed, knowing when she’d been had. “Deal.”
* * *
Gallery visitors milled in front of the brick wall where Chase’s paintings were on display. Not a bad showing for a Friday afternoon. Clusters of patrons took in the show’s offerings, reading the descriptions in the program and quietly discussing the merit of the artists’ work.
Chase stood a distance behind the browsers, straining to hear their murmured comments. There was a fine line between being close enough to decipher their words, and so close that he drew irritated glances. His photo on the program was a self-portrait that was abstract enough to preserve his anonymity, but he still felt self-conscious.
He’d worried that his agent had thrown the show together too quickly, used too many older works. But so far the reviews—both published, and overheard in the gallery—had been mostly positive. The Times had even blurbed the Everhardt show, which wasn’t until next month. He wondered if Landyn would pick up a copy and see the blurb in the Arts section. Was there even any place to buy a copy of the New York Times in Missouri? She’d never been much of a computer nut, so he doubted she’d think to look for the reviews online. If she even cared.
He walked to the end of the large room and slowly back again, pretending to peruse the program, which he practically had memorized by now.
He heard the door behind him open and turned to see his art rep, Miles Roberts, enter the gallery. He waved and went to greet him.
“Hey, Chase. How’s the show?”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve sold anything yet, but the buzz is good—so far.”
“Oh, you’ve sold something all right.” Miles looked amused.
“What do you mean?”
“Two of your pen and inks went for a grand each.”
Chase’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious, man?” Wait till he told Landyn! If this wasn’t confirmation that he’d been right to grab this opportunity, he didn’t know what was.
“I wouldn’t joke about something like that,” Miles said. “Don’t go out and spend my commission though.”
Miles was kidding. And Chase didn’t tell him that he’d forgotten to figure the rep’s commission that would come out of every check before he ever saw a dime. He for sure didn’t tell Miles he’d already spent a good chunk of his windfall on the trip back to Missouri last week. Charged it to a credit card, which he’d promised Landyn he would use only in emergencies. Well, it had felt like an emergency at the time.
In retrospect, it had been a stupid thing to do—a waste of time and money. Especially when he’d had no intention of talking to Landyn or even letting her know he was there. The only silver lining was that the airline was oversold on the first leg of his fligh
t, and he’d let them bump him in exchange for two-hundred dollars toward a future flight. He’d tucked that voucher into his Bible and whispered a prayer that he could use that ticket to bring Landyn home. Home to New York.
In the meantime, he’d needed desperately to see her. To make sure she was okay.
Ha. She was okay all right. He’d seen her Honda parked downtown in Cape in front of Bella Italia. For a minute he’d dared to hope she was inside, crying, remembering their first date and having a change of heart about leaving New York.
He should have known better. No, she was happy-go-lucky at lunch with her sisters. He gave a dry laugh.
“What’s funny?” Miles’s voice jarred him back to the moment.
“Oh . . . nothing. Just thinking about what my wife will say when I tell her about selling those pieces.”
“That’s funny?”
“Never mind.” He waved him off. “Private joke.”
“Please don’t tell me those were your wife’s favorite pieces you sold . . . I’ve got more wives mad at me because I sold the work that made them fall in love with their husband.”
“Don’t worry.” Landyn had never even seen those pen-and-inks. He’d finished them after moving to the Brooklyn studio. “At this point, I think Landyn would sell me if somebody offered her a grand.”
“Well, she ought to be thrilled. This won’t put you in a new tax bracket or anything, but a sale’s a sale. We’ll take what we can get. And there’s still a few days left in the show.”
“Hey, I’m just happy to be in a tax bracket period.”
The art rep seemed to think that was hilariously funny.
“Do I need to put in an appearance here every day while the show’s running?”
“No sir. What you need to do is hightail it home and get back to work. And I suggest you hold off on the watercolor for now. Do some more pen-and-inks instead. Get a few framed like the ones that sold. We’ll reimburse you for the frames, but those we know we can ask a grand for. We want to hit the market while it’s hot.”
“I’m on it.” Chase gave a little salute.
“Congrats, man.” Miles put out his hand. “You’re off to a great start.”
Well, at least he could pay off the credit card. That was a relief.
So he’d sold some of his work. For a good price. He should be dancing in the streets. But if he did, he’d be dancing alone.
8
You’re really not going to tell him?” Corinne had cornered Landyn on the back porch while Corinne and Jesse’s three kids romped with Huckleberry in the backyard at the inn.
“What good would it do?” A mockingbird screaked a reply from the climbing tree down by the creek, but Landyn ignored it. “Chase is being so stubborn about this. He’s just sitting in that lousy studio waiting for me to admit I was wrong and he was right. I’m not saying I’ve been perfect in this whole mess, Corinne, but he hasn’t either.”
“That may be, Landyn, but that’s not my point. You can’t just not tell Chase he’s going to be a father. Besides, I have a feeling once he knows that, he’ll change his mind. I know Jesse manned up big-time when I got pregnant with Sari. Chase is a good guy. He’ll do the right thing.”
Landyn regarded her sister. She had no doubt that her sisters—and probably Bree too—had talked about her behind her back. And she knew Corinne was mostly concerned for her, didn’t want her to be unhappy. But weren’t sisters supposed to side with you on something like this?
Instead, it seemed like her whole family had a big campaign underway to get her to go back to Chase. They’d all made her feel like a first-class jerk for leaving him. Even though she was pretty sure not one of them would have put up with the stunt Chase pulled.
She slipped off her shoes and propped her feet on the sun-warm porch rail. “Are you telling me that if Jesse came home one day and said, ‘Oh, by the way, I sold our house and we’re moving into a one-bedroom dump in Sikeston,’ that you’d be fine with it?”
Corinne giggled. “Sikeston? What hat did you pull that out of?”
She gave a droll smile. “Work with me, sister. That’s the best analogy I can come up with. But you get what I’m saying. And I happen to know you would not put up with that from Jesse! No matter how much you love him.”
Corinne sighed. “I already said that’s not the point.” She put a hand on Landyn’s arm. “Honey, you don’t want to raise a baby by yourself. I don’t care what Chase did, you don’t want to go through a divorce. You haven’t even been married a year. You guys have managed to get along with each other since you were just kids. Don’t let that go lightly.”
Landyn glared at her. “I never said I wanted a divorce. I just want—”
“Where do you think this is going to end up if you hold out on Chase?” An edge came to Corinne’s voice. “He should know he has a child coming into this world. Jesse would never forgive me if I didn’t tell him about our baby. This is Chase’s child, too, you know.”
Landyn feigned shock. “No. Really? I had no idea that’s how it worked.”
“Stop. You’re just being a brat now.”
“And you’re treating me like I’m still twelve years old and you’re the almighty big sister.”
“Well, you’re acting like you’re twelve, and—I am.”
“Almighty?”
That made Corinne laugh again and eased the tension a little.
The children’s shrill voices in the backyard drew their attention. “Sadie? What’s wrong?” Corinne went to the corner of the porch and leaned out over the rail.
“Sari won’t let me be the mom.” Sadie trotted to the porch with Huck tagging after her.
“Well, can’t you both be moms?”
The four-year-old put hands on hips. “But there’s only one Simone.”
“Well, you’ll just have to take turns with her being your baby.”
Simone’s head shot up and she toddled away from them, wagging her head at her sisters. “Huh-uh. No baby!”
Corinne and Landyn cracked up. Landyn wondered if Corinne knew how much she admired her. Could she ever be as patient and calm as Corinne always was with her kids? A tremor of sheer terror ran through her at the idea of having a baby who depended on her every waking moment.
The little girls’ argument escalated and Corinne jogged off the porch to mediate.
When she came back she gave Landyn’s back a pat. “All I’m saying is that you’ve got to talk to him, Landyn. You can’t just hide out and ignore him. You need to work this out.”
“What if we can’t work it out? What if he won’t budge?”
“You’ll work it out. I know you will. Even if it means being separated from him for a while until you both cool your jets a little, at least you’re working on it. He needs to know you’re committed to him, no matter what. Even if you can’t ever reach an agreement on this.”
“I don’t see how we can stay married if we don’t ever reach an agreement on this!”
“Then you might have to agree to disagree, Landyn. Couldn’t you do that—if that’s what it took to save your marriage?”
Landyn took a deep breath. “I don’t want my marriage to end. Oh, Corinne, this isn’t how I thought being married would be at all! Not at all. We haven’t even had our first anniversary and—” Her voice broke and tears came, surprising her. She’d been too angry to cry before.
Corinne wrapped her in a hug. “Just talk to him. And listen to him. We’re all praying for you guys. You’ll work things out. I know you will—with God’s help. But you’ve got to take the first step.”
She pulled away, anger seeping in again. “Why? That’s what Mom said, too. But why can’t he take the first step. Chase is the one who started this. I was just minding my own business, working my tail off . . . It’s what we agreed to, by the way. The deal was he would do this for three years while we got established, then he could make a go of his art thing. Instead I’ve spent most of our marriage trying not to panic while he chases every
pipe dream and takes dead-end jobs for the sake of his precious art. I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like I did anything wrong!”
“I’m not saying you did. But Landyn, sometimes marriage is about forgiving and taking responsibility even when it’s not your fault. I’m not saying it’s easy, but I am saying it’s right. Sometimes.”
“Easy for you to say. Jesse would never do something like this.”
“Oh, sure he would. Maybe not that exact thing, but trust me, Landyn, at some point, every person who’s ever been in a marriage gets selfish. Your honeymoon might have ended a little sooner than most, but you would have gotten there eventually.”
“Wow, thanks big sister. You’re really cheering me up.”
Corinne’s grin warmed her. “Being married is the best thing that ever happened to me, Landyn. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. You’re going to make selfish choices and self-centered mistakes, and you’re going to hurt each other sometimes. Even when you’re both Christians, you’re also both human.”
“Yeah, and that’s what ticks me off the most. He played the God card on me.”
“You mean because he said he thought he was doing what God wanted him to do?”
She nodded.
“What if he is? I’m not saying I agree with him,” Corinne added quickly. “Yes, he should have consulted you on something that affected your life so drastically. But have you considered that maybe he really did think God was directing him to do what he did? You said he had to make a decision right away to get that place.”
Landyn shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think God works that way.”
“No . . . Hear me out. I’m not even saying God actually did direct him. But if Chase thought it was God, then you kind of have to admire him for obeying.”
“If that’s the case, then you have to admire the 9-11 terrorists and all the other religious fanatics who claim they were just doing God’s work.”
Her sister shot her a quit-being-difficult look. “Is Chase a religious fanatic, Landyn? Is he trying to blow up buildings?”
“Well, no . . . But—”
“Then can you give him the benefit of the doubt? What if you called him, and just assume for the duration of the conversation that Chase really did think he was following God’s leading?”
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