Restless Souls

by Bliss Addison

  Chapter 11

 

  Thunder boomed in the distance and lightning streaked across the cloudy morning sky when Jonathan pulled his car to a stop against the curb in front of Susan’s house.

  He knew he risked raising her dander again by showing up on her doorstep unannounced.

  The desire to see her impelled him out of the car and up the walkway. That and the fact that on Friday evening he sensed that something had frightened her. He still felt the need to protect her and probably always would.

  No sign of life came from inside the house. He checked his watch and guessed she already left to bring the kids to school. He leaned against a pillar on the veranda to wait for her.

  Until three months ago, he had an answer for any question, a solution for any problem. Whatever life threw at him, he faced it head-on and always came out the victor. But not this time. This time answers failed him. He had no idea how to get out of this situation with Cindy.

  She made his life miserable with her demands, wants and whining – so unlike Susan. Why was it we treasure most what we lose?

  What would his drill sergeant father’s advice be? Get that chin up, get those shoulders back, and suck in that gut, soldier.

  Wherever dear old dad passed his eternal life, he would surely be laying down the law in regimental fashion, either testing the Lord’s patience or putting the fear of God in the Devil.

  Jonathan turned at the sound of a car pulling to a stop and smiled at Susan behind the steering wheel. She looked at him, surprise registering on her face, then her cheeks paled. Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, she put the car in gear.

  What the hell —

  “Susan.” He leapt down the steps and within two seconds his hand rested on the passenger door of her car. Normally, he would think about appearances – what the neighbors might think.

  She seemed prepared to gun the engine.

  "Susan, my God, what are you doing?"

  She hesitated, as though determining there was nowhere to run.

  Jonathan studied her. She looked keyed-up and frazzled, like she spent the night without sleep. Something bothered her, something more than their divorce. Why wouldn’t she open up to him?

  She put the gearshift into park and got out of the car. “Jonathan,” she said resignedly. "What do you want?"

  “I hoped we could talk.”

  “We have nothing to talk about.” She clutched her purse against her chest and walked around the car with her head bowed.

  The pain that stabbed his heart wasn’t from the hostility in her voice. It came from knowing he was the cause of it. For sixteen years, he'd told her he loved her, and when he slept with another woman, he told her the complete opposite. She probably didn’t know who he was anymore — sometimes he wondered about that himself — and now she was too stringent to give him a chance to explain, something he should have done long ago. She would have understood. Then they could have dealt with Cindy’s pregnancy together. He understood that now. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  He stepped aside before she bulldozed him into the ground, then followed her into the house and into the living room. “Susan, why are you acting this way?”

  She jerked her head up at him. “Are you saying I don’t have the right after what you did to me and the kids? And what business is it of yours how I act?”

  “You’re right. I’ve put you through a lot in the last few months. I’m sorry.”

  She huffed a breath.

  For the first time since they entered the room, he looked around. “You’ve been busy.”

  “What?”

  He splayed his hand toward the walls. “You removed the wallpaper. It looks better already.”

  “The kids were a tremendous help.”

  “The kids helped?”

  “Of course, they helped. Why does that surprise you? When we were a family, we did everything together, or don’t you remember how it was?"

  He remembered. In fact, those remembrances prompted his visit today. “Why are you twisting around everything I say?”

  “If I am, it’s because you taught me well.”

  “I don’t ... didn’t ... do that.”

  She scoffed.

  This wasn’t going well at all. Certainly not the way he envisioned. “I’d really like to get on some middle ground with you, if only for the sake of the children.”

  “Now you think about Katie and Benjamin? How nice. You should have thought about them and me before you hopped into bed with another woman. You betrayed the children, me and our family, Jonathan, and the children hate you for it.”

  He deserved that. “I’m sorry.” He was. Sorry for ruining a good thing, sorry for hurting her and the kids, sorry that his girlfriend was pregnant. He would try a different tack. She'd always liked to discuss the children with him. “How are the children doing?” He immediately became suspicious by the startled look that crossed her face. Something happened with the kids, but judging by the tight set of her lips, she wasn’t about to tell him.

  “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  When she ran her fingers through her hair, it surprised him that her fingers shook.

  Something had happened, something she didn’t want him to know. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you think is going on, Jonathan? That I’m bringing men home to my bed? Oh wait, I’m sorry, I confused myself with you.”

  He watched her lips twist into an expression somewhere between a sneer and a sly grin.

  “So, aside from Katie and Benjamin thinking I betrayed them, they’re fine?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, looking everywhere but at him.

  “And that’s it?”

  “Well, other than they’re adjusting to a zillion changes all at the one time, they’re fine.”

  The look in her eyes told him something different. For now, he wouldn’t push the issue.

  “Okay, I get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “Get that I ruined your life and our children’s lives. What did you think?”

  “Nothing.”

  Was she acting weird, or was he?

  “And don’t you ever, ever accuse me, or so much as intimate that the children are not being properly looked after. They are. And as long as they continue to live with me, they will be. I’ll make sure of that. Unlike you, Katie and Benjamin are my first priority.”

  How did she jump to the conclusion that he thought the children weren’t being well looked after? Maybe he should be concerned. “I’m sorry — ”

  “You damn well should be.”

  “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

  She cocked a hip and crossed her arms against her chest. “Then why are you here? Without calling first again, I might add.”

  He felt run over by a steam roller. “Have you thought about professional help for them? And professional help for you?”

  “Professional help for me?” She threw her hands into the air. “God, Jonathan. Do you think divorcing you is something I'll never get over?” She narrowed her eyes, as though just realizing something. “Or is it because I'm expressing how I feel that you think I’m crazy? You’re a real piece of work, you know that.” She inhaled deeply, as though his question needed aeration.

  “As far as getting help for the children, how do you think they’ll react to you after that? Don’t you think they’ll hate you even more because they have to see a therapist because of what you did to them?”

  That never occurred to him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be. Children should never suffer because of the mistakes of their parents.”

  He considered a rebuttal and changed his mind. She had a point. “Well, if you need anything — ”

  The doorbell rang.

  Her hesitation and the flush of her cheeks told him what he needed to know. “Expecting someone?” He watched her sprint toward the door. There was more going on in this house and w
ith her than she wanted him to know. What was it?

  “Alex.”

  Her voice carried to him from the front entry. Jonathan jammed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, walked softly to the entrance of the living room and eavesdropped.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have, but thank you. They’re lovely.”

  “Did you already take the children to school?”

  “Yes.”

  Jonathan peeked around the doorway in time to see the fellow she called Alex brush a strand of hair from his ex-wife's face.

  “You look upset,” Alex said. “Everything all right?”

  Jonathan cleared his throat and entered the foyer. They turned and stared at him like he was an intruder. Actually, he felt like one. He waited for Susan to make the introductions. When she didn’t, he extended his hand. “Jonathan Turner. Susan’s ex-husband.” An awkward moment followed.

  “Alex Cowan.”

  They shook hands and Jonathan sized up Susan's friend. Alex Cowan. Jonathan heard that name before. Where?

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. Cowan?’

  Alex crossed his arms against his chest. “I’m between jobs right now.”

  “What is it that you do when — ” A sharp pain stabbed the back of Jonathan’s neck. He stifled a yelp and absorbed the pain.

  “You’re flushed, Jonathan,” Susan said. “Something the matter?”

  Of course, she would notice. He didn’t relish a repeat performance of the other night.

  “No. Everything’s fine. Well, I’d better be going. Susan, I’ll see you on Friday when I pick up the kids.”

  “Fine.”

  Jonathan nodded at Alex and left.

  Sitting behind the wheel of his car, he made a mental note to check out Alex Cowan. He’d run his name through the computer and see what Susan’s boyfriend was trying to hide. Jonathan would also make an appointment with his doctor. Maybe Susan was right. Maybe he was about to blow a gasket and the pains he experienced were a prelude to something nastier, like a heart attack.