Summer Breeze (29 page)

Who did he think he was, anyway, expecting her to acknowledge him? She knew who he was—that stranger in the shadows. He was a liar. Cheat. Gambler. Addict. Manipulator. He was selfish and egotistic. A user. A traitor. A con artist. Indifferent to religion. Unable to express emotion. Hopeless at communication. He was everything she despised and abhorred.

Trembling with anger at the thought of the man she had so foolishly married, Kim tore off the check and stuffed it into the envelope. She could hear Derek’s footsteps on the deck. Moving closer, edging toward her. It didn’t matter to her if he stood there all night. He might speak, but she wouldn’t answer. She couldn’t trust anything he would say. He was a liar.

Liar, liar, liar.

She picked up the next bill. Electricity. With the twins and Miranda home all summer, the amount was sky-high. Now she understood that all the money she and Derek earned went to pay bills and to his mother. Not a penny of it became their own. She had trusted her husband when he promised he would add what little was left each month to a savings account he had started when he lived in St. Louis. Little did she know it had instead gone into repaying Miranda for bailing him out of his gambling debts.

Now he was opening the door and stepping into the small screened area where she sat. She didn’t look up.

“Hey there,” he said.

Kim began to write another check. It was easier this way. Living with him in silence. Not even bothering to try to talk. She had wasted so much energy trying to plumb her husband’s emotional depths—only to learn he was nothing more than a stagnant pond.

Derek pulled out one of the green metal chairs that surrounded the table. Sitting down, he let out a deep sigh. At least she didn’t have to smell beer on his breath. With Joe, she’d had that constant issue to manage. Of course, Kim knew that no addiction could be managed by anyone but the addict. She had discovered that long ago in her childhood.

Clearing his throat, Derek folded his hands and set them on the table. Then he spoke. “What’s wrong, Kim, honey?”

She looked up at him. “
What’s wrong?
Did you just ask me
what’s wrong
?”

“Yes,” he confirmed in a voice that was barely audible. His eyes met hers. “That’s what I said. What’s wrong, Kim, honey?”

For a moment, she almost couldn’t breathe as the rage rose inside her, bubbled up to the top of her throat, stung the insides of her nostrils, blistered like steam in her ears. The man was an idiot! A total idiot! This college-educated, ten-year veteran of the state Water Patrol was a complete idiot!

“Well,” she said evenly. “Let’s see. Hmmm. It’s so hard to choose just one thing.”

He leaned forward. “Okay. I understand that.”

“Really? Amazing.” She could hear the sarcasm dripping from her words, but she had no idea if her lamebrain husband had the ability to decipher verbal intonations.

Still staring at her, Derek nodded. She hardly knew what to make of it. He was actually looking right at her. Usually he stared at the television. At the kids or his mother. At the lake, a tree, a soaring bird. Or at the message screen on his cell phone. Now he was gazing directly at her.

“You want to know what’s wrong,” she stated. It wasn’t a question. Just a repetition of his words to make sure she’d heard him right. “You want to know what’s wrong with me.”

“Yes,” he repeated, nodding. His eyes were still focused on her face, and he wasn’t moving even a finger.

Kim leaned back in her chair. “Why not begin with your gambling confession?” she asked airily. “Unless that was just a bad dream I had.”

“It wasn’t.”

She straightened and pointed a finger at him. “You, Derek Finley, are a liar. The worst kind of liar—habitual and deliberate. You kept the truth from me. When you put a lie into a relationship, I don’t think we call that a relationship anymore.”

“You’re right. I lied to you.”

“You never once mentioned that you had a gambling addiction and were deeply in debt.”

“You’re right. I kept that from you.”

“You never said you were sending all our savings to your mother.”

“No, Kim, I didn’t.”

“You never told me that Miranda held power over you by keeping you on a leash like a little puppy. You’re not the brave, strong, wonderful man I thought I’d married. You’re nothing but a puppet. A mama’s boy.”

She could see him swallow, and she knew her angry words had hit home. At any moment, he would strike back. He would argue with her, tell her she was wrong, rationalize everything. Or maybe he would hit her, like Joe had done. She was ready for that. She could take it.

Derek knotted his fingers together, squeezing them so hard that the blood stopped and his knuckles turned white. “You … feel … betrayed by me,” he said slowly. “You took a brave step in remarrying, and now you think it was a mistake.”

“
You
were the mistake,” she said, jabbing her index finger at him. “You, you, you. Don’t you get it? I’m repeating my own mistakes over and over again! I’m as big an idiot as you are. In fact, I’m a gambler, too. I took a foolish risk, and I never should have done that. I knew the Bible warned against marrying a nonbeliever, but I thought you were so different and amazing. I thought it wouldn’t matter. But I was wrong. Your character is flawed. And so is mine. We’re just a couple of stupid … dumb …”

Kim’s eyes filled with tears as she continued. “We’re both fools. We never should have married each other. I’m not the right kind of person to be a wife. I don’t even know what it takes to make a good marriage. I have too much baggage. And now you’re just one more filthy, damaged suitcase I have to lug around. Another mistake. Another terrible, awful blunder.”

As the tears rolled down her cheeks, Kim pushed away her husband’s reaching hands. No, she wouldn’t let him comfort her. No compliments scattered like candy. No gentle hands soothing the pain. She deserved to hurt. She had given control of her life to God and then taken it back the moment she married Derek Finley.

“Kim,” he was saying now, pressing his palms flat on his thighs. “You’re right. I am an addict and a liar. I wanted to marry you so much that I deceived you. I am flawed. And I’m powerless. I acknowledge those facts every time I step through the door at a GA meeting or fight the urge to hand over my money for a scratch-off lottery ticket. When I call you up and tell you I’m working late and then go to a meeting, I know I’m a liar. You’re right to be angry with me.”

Wiping her cheeks with her fingers, Kim sniffled. She couldn’t believe he was admitting it. Staring at him through blurred vision, she felt she was seeing yet another side of this man she was determined to despise. Once he had been her knight in shining armor, her dream lover, her best friend. Then he had become her worst nightmare—so horribly fallen from the ivory pedestal on which she had placed him that she was sure he was broken to pieces. And now here he was … the broken man … crawling toward her … holding up the shards of himself.…

“How long?” she asked him. “How long have you been clean?”

“I got my eleven-year pin last month. Here. And here’s my Combo Book.” He took the pin and a yellow pamphlet from his hip pocket and dropped them onto the table. He chuckled without humor. “In Gamblers Anonymous, I’m what we call a ‘trusted servant.’ Like a sponsor for alcoholics. People phone me, and I help them get through a bad time. There’s a guy right now I’m especially worried about. I’m afraid he might be getting in too deep, and I’ve been talking to him a lot.”

“Is that who the mysterious phone calls have been from? Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

Derek sighed. “I was afraid you would leave me. GA work takes a lot of patience, and most of us are fairly unrealistic, insecure, and immature. Despite all my years, I still fit the mold pretty well.” He paused and looked at the floor. “I guess you’ve figured that out.”

Kim set her fingertips on the well-worn booklet. He must have read it every day. It must have been with him constantly. How could she not have known? Was she blind?

“You told me your mother was your higher power,” she whispered.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I do acknowledge an authority outside myself—and it sure isn’t my mom. Having her around makes it hard to keep things in perspective. She’s convinced that forcing me to repay the debt keeps me clean. I’ve tried to explain, but she has no idea how GA works. She doesn’t want to understand.”

“Then who is your higher power?”

Derek shrugged. “Something bigger and stronger than I am. Someone. I don’t know, Kim. I don’t have a name for it.”

She dropped her head on her arms. “Oh, why did I marry you? You’re not even close to sharing my faith in God. Now here I am stuck with you and your mother. Both the same.”

“My mother and I are
not
the—” As if suddenly aware of the vehemence in his voice, Derek cut himself off. He tightened his hands into fists again. “You feel like my mother and I are alike,” he said. “And that makes you angry.”

Kim sniffled, knowing her tears were dripping onto the utility bill. But she couldn’t lift her head. “You know what’s worse? The twins now love her. The other day they told me they’re glad she’s moved in with us permanently. I can’t believe I’ll have to put up with Miranda and her criticisms, her weird pizza, her tai chi, her incense. I’m faced with this wicked presence infecting me and my children for the rest of my life. Grandma Finley, spouting her phony spirituality and influencing the family in ways that terrify me. And you … you just sit there.”

This time his exhaled breath was shaky. “Okay, I hear you,” he whispered.

“What do you hear?” she fired back at him, lifting her head. “What do you even think I’m saying, Derek?”

He was quiet for a long moment. Kim was about to deride his silence when he spoke.

“You’re saying you want a stronger, more influential male in the house. And you’re right to expect that. I’m so used to my mother’s ways that when she came here, I didn’t see how she was affecting us. I didn’t challenge her or stand up to her, because her presence felt normal to me, and I hoped the trouble with you would blow over. But I don’t want her to dominate our family. I don’t want her manipulating anyone—especially you or the kids. Or me.” He stood suddenly, scraping back the chair. “And I don’t want her bizarre …”

Before he could finish his own sentence, Derek turned and pushed through the screen door, slamming it against the side of the house. He strode onto the deck and wrenched his mother’s small wooden altar from the corner under the eave where she had nailed it.

Half frightened and half in shock, Kim hurried after her husband as he snatched up Miranda’s CD player, her incense burner, and her little statuettes. Cradling those objects in one arm, he reared back like a baseball pitcher and hurled the altar off the deck. The CD player and incense burner went next. Finally the statues and other items sailed one by one through the moonlight into the darkness beyond the deck.

Kim leaned against the railing as she heard a series of splashes from the lake. Gripping the wood beam, she held her breath. What had just happened? What did this mean?

“There,” Derek announced, dusting off his palms. His voice was almost jaunty when he spoke again. “Now, what else? What’s wrong, Kim, honey? Can you tell me that?”

She searched her mind. Suddenly all the things she had piled up against him didn’t seem so huge. The gambling, the bank account, the twins, the family rules, even Miranda … they were crumbling, fragmenting into grains of sand as her broken husband mended and stood tall again.

“Nothing,” she managed to whisper.

“Then may I have your permission to spell out the list?”

“Yes.”

“Gambling,”
he stated. “Can I tell you about that?”

“Of course. I wish you would.”

“I have to go to GA meetings. So, from now on, I’ll call and tell you what I’m doing, and then I’ll go. I’m eleven years clean, and I don’t expect to fall off the wagon. But GA is a part of my world, and I should have shared it with you. I’ll try to start doing that.”

“Okay.”

“
Debt
. There’s no way I can erase it. I made mistakes, and now I have to pay for them—literally. But I promise I’ll stop putting your money toward paying it down. Maybe one day we’ll inherit my mother’s estate, but until then—”

“Use my money too, Derek,” she said suddenly. “If we can let this be a decision we make together, I won’t mind.”

He eyed her for a moment. Then he nodded.
“Church,”
he said. “Another issue. From next Sunday forward, every time I’m working the late shift or have a free day, I’ll go with you. In fact, I’ll request Sundays off. I can’t promise to be good at doing church. I won’t say I know God the way you do. But … but I do believe He’s here … and He …” Suddenly Derek laughed. “Well, come to think of it, He came through for me tonight when I couldn’t think what else to do but pray.”

“You prayed?”

Spreading his arms, Derek looked into Kim’s eyes. “I love you, honey. I love you so much. I’m sorry I hurt you and lied to you. I don’t have any excuses. Just know that I’ll do my best … that I already am doing my best to be the man you want. The husband you deserve. Can you try to start trusting me again? Can you love me too? Even just a little?”

Before she knew it, Kim had slipped into her husband’s embrace. His arms came around her, wrapping her tightly against him. She laid her cheek on his shoulder and let the tears fall. It wasn’t perfect, this marriage they had cobbled together. She saw the flimsy construction of their hastily built foundation all too clearly now. So the cracks had begun to show. Would the walls cave in next? Would the roof collapse?

“What can
I
do, Derek?” she asked him as he rocked her gently. “How can I help make us better?”

He fell quiet, and she trailed her fingers up and down his spine as he considered her question. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was low and throaty. “You could let me out of my shining armor. I’m a lot better at patrolling Party Cove than slaying dragons.”

Kim nearly said something about his mother, but she decided against it. She would forever remember those distant splashes in the night—the definite sounds of a dragon’s death throes.