Small Change (30 page)

“Oh, what's this?” She opened it and slid out the papers.

“Just a formality,” he assured her. “You don't have to sign it right now. Take your time. Read it over.”

She began to skim the first page. Phrases started jumping out at her.
Each party has separate property, the nature and extent of which is fully disclosed in the statements of assets and liabilities … Thereafter, each of the parties shall separately retain all rights in the property he or she now owns … each party hereby waives, releases, and relinquishes any and all right, title, or interest whatsoever …

Rachel looked up, shocked. “This is a prenup.”

Chad's dark skin couldn't hide the guilty flush. “Yes, but like I said, it's only a formality.”

A cold chill swept over Rachel. She slowly slid the legal document back into the envelope. “No, it's more than that.” She remembered all her doubts when she'd first met Chad, all her fears that she'd get hurt. Now that it was happening it was so much worse than she'd ever imagined.

He looked pained. “Rachel, it's a safeguard, that's all. Please don't make this into more than it is.”

Inside she wanted to scream, throw the envelope with his precious safeguard at him. “I know exactly what this is. It's proof that you don't trust me.”

“Rachel,” he cajoled.

He moved to take her in his arms—always a good negotiating position for a handsome man—but she backed away.

He looked pained by her refusal to let him kiss her stupid.
“This has nothing to do with you. It's standard operating procedure when there's money involved. It's simply a legal document, like a marriage license.”

“Not quite,” said Rachel. “A marriage license proves to the world that we're committed. This proves to the world that you don't trust me. I understand why you have trust issues. You've been hurt. But so have I. Remember?”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “So, if you understand, why are you making a big deal out of this? If we're going to be together for the rest of our lives, what does it matter if you sign a simple document?”

“If we're going to be together for the rest of our lives, what does it matter if I don't?” she countered. “I have to sign this for you to marry me, don't I?”

His hesitation gave Rachel her answer.

She could feel tears building up, but she kept her voice level. “I guess we don't know each other as well as we thought, because if we did you wouldn't be here with this. I loved you when I thought you had nothing.” Her voice broke. It made her look weak and stupid, but she couldn't help it.

“Rachel, don't.”

She longed to hear him say, “Never mind. You're right, I'm being paranoid,” but the words didn't come.

She could feel her heart cracking under the crushing weight of her broken dreams. “You may have a big bank account but this is the only asset I have,” she said, putting a hand over her heart. “I was willing to give it to you without any safeguards, without any protection at all. I was willing to put everything I have on the line for this relationship. You're clearly not willing to do that. It's like you already have one foot out the door.”

“That's not it at all,” he insisted. “This is …”

“Insurance?” she finished for him. “I guess in this day and age you need insurance. But I can't go there.” She pulled the ring from her finger and dropped it in the envelope, then pushed it at him, forcing him to take it. “I'm sorry. I can't do this,” she managed.

The doorbell rang and she opened the door to find her first student standing on the porch. Her storybook romance had just been destroyed and now she had to go to work.

Good thing she hadn't quit her day job, such as it was, she thought bitterly. “Good-bye, Chad,” she said.

“We'll talk later,” he insisted.

She shook her head. “No, I'm afraid we won't.” What would be the point?

“
W
here's Chad?” David asked at dinner.

Rachel hadn't had time to process what had happened to her. How was she supposed to explain to her children? She took the coward's way out. “He had some things to do.”

That satisfied David, but Claire was a little more observant. Taking in Rachel's red eyes from her secret premeal crying jag and her distracted air, Claire asked, “Did you guys have a fight?”

“No,” Rachel lied, forcing her lips to smile. “Everything's fine.”

“Then where's your ring?”

The ring. Rachel stared at her bare finger. It didn't look right. Funny how quickly she'd gotten used to seeing that diamond on her left hand. “We've decided to wait a little.” Another lie.

David frowned. “Does that mean we don't get to live at the lake?”

“That means I don't know,” Rachel said, keeping her voice level. “It's better to wait and be sure.” After a reasonable interval, she'd tell the children that she'd changed her mind.

“Does that mean he's not even coming over?” David demanded.

“For the time being.”

David scowled and gave the mashed potatoes on his plate an angry shove. A moment later he pushed his chair away from the table and stalked off.

“David!” Rachel called after him, her voice sharp.

“He's mad, Mom,” said Claire, stating the obvious. “He liked Chad.”

“Well, so did I,” Rachel snapped. Now Claire was looking hurt. “I'm sorry,” Rachel said. She could feel an ache starting around her temples. Maybe after dinner she'd just go to her room and cry for about three hours.

Claire got up, but instead of marching out of the kitchen like her brother, she came around to where Rachel sat and draped her arms around Rachel's neck. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” she murmured. “I bet you guys will make up.”

She put on a brave front and gave her daughter's arm a pat and said, “You never know.”

There was another lie. The chasm between Chad and her was too great to cross, and that horrible knowledge kept her crying into her pillow late into the night.

“Well, good riddance, then,” said Jess, as the three friends sat in Tiffany's living room taking turns holding the baby.

Little Grace was a perfect. With her blonde fuzz and rosebud lips she promised to grow up to be as pretty as her mother. Who at the moment was wearing what all well-dressed new mothers wore: dark circles under the eyes, neglected hair, and a towel draped over one shoulder. She gave Grace a kiss on the top of her head, and
then took the little pink bundle to the nursery to lay her down for her nap.

“I can't blame him for being leery,” Rachel said to Jess. “Not after getting taken by two women. Once burned, twice shy. Or, in this case, twice burned.” She couldn't blame him, but she found she couldn't quite forgive him, either. He'd called twice since she returned his ring, but she'd refused to talk to him.

“Still, if you can't start out a marriage with trust you're in trouble. I think that increases the odds that you'll fail,” said Jess.

“I don't have to worry about that now,” Rachel said bitterly, setting aside her mug of coffee. “I failed before I even started. You know what's really bad? I still want him.”

Jess moved to the couch where Rachel was sitting and hugged her. “I'm so sorry.”

Sorry didn't even begin to cover it, Rachel thought as the lump in her throat grew to unbearable proportions.

A moment later Tiff was at her other side, holding out a box of tissues. “Things will work out. I know they will.”

Of course, Tiff was only trying to be helpful. But of all the inane, inaccurate, impossible things to say … “No, they won't.” Rachel glared at her friend, just to make sure Tiff got the message.
No false cheer wanted.
Tiffany pulled out a tissue and handed it over and Rachel snatched it and blew her nose.

“You don't know that,” said Tiffany, refusing to get the message. “If you guys really love each other, one of you will make the first move.”

“Then, it will have to be him,” said Rachel. “I already passed his damned princess and the pea test.”

Tiff's brows knit. “What test was that?”

“The going out all those months and loving him even when I thought he was poor. I mean, if that didn't prove I wasn't after his money, I don't know what would.”

“Signing the prenup,” said Tiff.

Rachel yanked another tissue out of the box. “Are you delirious? Why would I do that?”

“Cuz you don't care about money and you love him,” said Tiff.

“You're right. I don't and I do and he should know that.”

“He probably does in his heart,” said Tiff. “I guess he just wants reassurance. You said yourself that you weren't out for his money. So, why not sign the stupid thing?”

“Why ask her to sign it in the first place?” argued Jess. “If he trusts her he shouldn't need her to sign a piece of paper.”

“But if she loves him maybe she should be willing to do what-ever it takes to prove it,” said Tiff, refusing to back down. “How bad do you want him?” she asked Rachel.

There was the most important question of all. Rachel thought about it long after she left Tiffany's house. She took it to bed with her that night and tossed and turned with it. She carried it around with her the next week and a half as she filled in for sick teachers, tutored, did laundry, made meals, and helped her children with their homework. What if she did sign that agreement? She'd really only be telling Chad he could keep his toys. And what if she and Chad married and things didn't work out? She'd be back to doing exactly what she was doing now. She'd be fine. She didn't need his money.

But she did need his love. Ever since she'd given him back his ring and his precious insurance policy she had been walking around with a big hole in her heart. A perfect man was hard to find. Heck, impossible. Chad wasn't perfect, but he was as close as she'd ever
come. If she wanted him she was going to have to overlook his fear and insecurity.

Valentine's Day was right around the corner by the time she finally went online. It didn't take her long to find some free prenup forms. She printed one out, filled in what she could, and signed it. Then she put it in a manila envelope along with an invitation to join her on that special day at The Last Resort to hear Jess's band play. As she left the post office to go sub at Heart Lake Elementary she had a dark moment of doubt. What man would ask this sort of thing of a woman? What kind of love was so selfish?

She could only answer her questions with more questions. When a man asked this sort of thing of a woman, did he act because he was selfish or because he was wounded? And did she have it in her to heal him?

She hoped she did. In fact, she was sure she did. She was smiling by the time she pulled into the school parking lot.

“You look happy,” said her friend Elsa, when Rachel walked into the teacher's lounge. “Does it have anything to do with that good looking man I saw you with at Christmas?”

“It could,” Rachel said with a smile. Yes, it could.

Rachel hoped she would hear from Chad before Valentine's Day, that he'd rush over the minute he got the prenup and put the ring back on her finger. But he didn't rush over. And he didn't call.

As Valentine's Day drew nearer, she got more nervous, so nervous in fact that she actually finally went in to Salon H and had Cara cut and dye her hair. She even went to Bargain Boutique and bought a new dress: basic black, with beading. But still no word from Chad.

“You
are
coming to hear the band tomorrow, right?” Jess asked her the day before.

“I'm coming,” she said. It was her last hope. She had to be there.

Valentine's night she stood in front of her mirror, assessing herself. She half wished her kids were home to assure her that she did, indeed, look wonderful, but they were both at friends' houses. So that left only her.

“You look great,” she told herself as she slipped on the silver cuff bracelet Jess had bought for her in July. “And you'll have fun tonight, no matter what.”

Who was she kidding? If Chad ignored her invitation and didn't show she was going to throw herself in the lake.

“Not funny,” she scolded her reflection. Then she grabbed her purse and left the house to meet her fate, whatever it might be.

The Last Resort was the closest thing Heart Lake had to a club, and it was hopping. The air was thick with the scent of every perfume and cologne known to man. Twenty-and thirty-somethings crowded along the bar, all dressed to kill, and couples and four-somes sat at the small tables, laughing and leaning in close, trying to talk over the band. The little dance floor was packed with Valentine lovers and The Red Hots were in great form, keeping the dancers happy with Aerosmith's “I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing.” Jess looked like a superstar in her tight leather pants and red sequined top.

Rachel could only hope that, before the night was over, she'd be with Chad, among the swaying couples, laying a foundation for a future of love and trust. She spotted Tiff and Brian and Michael all dressed to the nines and holding down a table near the dance floor and wove her way through the crowd.

The music wound down as Rachel took her seat. “Hi,” Tiff greeted her. “I was beginning to think you'd never get here.”

Rachel checked her watch. “It's only nine. The band just went on, didn't they?”

“Well, yeah,” Tiff admitted. Then added, “But we can't stay all night.”

Brian smiled indulgently at her. “The baby will be fine. She's with my mom.”

Tiff didn't say anything to that. Instead, she took a sip of her drink.

Rachel couldn't help smiling. She remembered those new-mother nerves. It had probably taken every ounce of Brian's persuasive power to get Tiff to come out. “What are you drinking?” she asked.

“Coke.”

“Just Coke?”

“I don't want to drink too much and have a hangover. Anyway, booze knocks me out. I want to be able to hear when Grace wakes up for her feeding.”

“You're such a good mother,” Brian told her, and they kissed.

And Rachel felt ridiculously, insanely jealous. She looked around the room, but saw no sign of Chad. Disappointment settled over her like a cloak.

Now the cocktail waitress was at her side. “Let me buy you a drink, Rachel,” Michael offered. “What would you like?”

Arsenic, she thought, but she ordered a Chocolate Kiss martini.

Chocolate Kiss martinis were highly overrated. So were love songs, and it looked like the band was going to play every romantic rock song ever written.

The night would have been perfect if Rachel hadn't been alone,
if she had hope that she wouldn't wind up alone forever. But nothing was perfect. It had been almost forty-five minutes now and there was still no sign of Chad. He obviously wasn't coming.

“I'm going to go, you guys,” she said to the others.

Tiffany looked panicked. “No. You can't leave. We're … not done. Jess wants to join us when the band goes on break.”

Who knew how long it would be before they took their break?

“Don't go,” Michael added. “Jess'll be disappointed if you don't stay long enough to say hi.”

Rachel resigned herself to her fate and took another sip of her martini. This had been such a stupid idea.

The band ended the song and launched into a new one, more upbeat. It sounded old and funky and vaguely familiar.

The crowd didn't care. They were already boogying. It took Rachel a minute to realize Jess was singing the old Beatles song “Can't Buy Me Love.”

The song was half over when Rachel knew she had really had enough. In fact, if she stayed any longer she was going to have a complete nervous breakdown. She'd call Jess tomorrow and tell her the band had been great. “I really need to go,” she told Michael. “Tell Jess I'm sorry. I don't feel good.” No lie. She was sick at heart. She plucked her jacket off the back of her chair and picked up her purse.

Tiff grabbed her arm and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Don't. Leave.”