Table for Seven (36 page)

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Will said instead. “But no matter what, your mother and I love you and Rory more than anything in the world. Nothing will change that.”

Iris’s eyes filled with tears. “So you
are
getting a divorce.”

“I didn’t say that,” Will said.

“Yeah, but that’s what parents always say when they’re getting a divorce. About loving the kids still. Well, it’s just a crock. If you really loved us, you’d stay together. You’d make things work,” Iris said.

“Iris,” Will said, reaching out an arm to put around her thin shoulders.

But Iris shook him off. She jumped to her feet. “Don’t,” she said. And then she turned and ran out of the garage, leaving Will alone in the dim light.

He rested his elbows on the workbench and put his face in his hands. He had not handled that well. Iris was at such a difficult age, and Rory wasn’t far behind. And now, on top of all of the usual struggles teenage girls faced, they’d have to deal with this, the dissolution of their family, as well.

“I screwed up,” Will said out loud.

“What?”

Will started. In his fog, he hadn’t heard the back door open, hadn’t heard Fran come in behind him. And these days, it was rare for her to seek him out. They had only short, businesslike conversations about bills to be paid, the children’s schedules, household tasks.

“Nothing. I mean … actually, it wasn’t nothing, I think I just handled something with Iris badly.” Fran moved closer to him, her arms wrapped around her body. Will peered at her in concern. “Have you been crying?”

Fran shrugged. But it was clear, she had been crying. Her eyes were red and her face was puffy. Red tear streaks stood out against the pale of her face.

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

Fran shrugged, said, “I’m fine,” and then burst into tears.

Will stood quickly and moved toward Fran. He folded her into his arms, and she buried her face in his chest. She cried for a long time, heaving, body-racking sobs. Her breathing gradually slowed, and finally the sobs shuddered to an end.

“I got your shirt all wet,” Fran said, her voice muffled against Will’s chest.

“It’s okay. It’ll dry,” Will said.

“And I got mascara all over it,” Fran said, leaning back a little to inspect the damage.

Will pulled her close again. “I’ll throw it out.”

“Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” Fran’s voice was muffled again.

“Of course you do.”

“No, I really don’t.” Fran leaned back again and looked up at him. “After everything I’ve put you through. I’ve been so stupid. I almost walked away from our marriage. I almost … well, I did something stupid.”

Fear slashed through his stomach, hot and sickening. He didn’t want to hear whatever was coming next. Fran was about to tell him she wanted to come back. That was all he wanted to hear. That their marriage would have a second chance. He didn’t want any of the details of why she’d come to this decision.

“You’ve changed your mind about leaving?” Will asked.

“Yes. Unless you want me to leave. Which I would totally understand, after everything I’ve put you through.”

Will closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, inhaling the essential Franness of her. And then he asked the question he had to ask, no matter how much he didn’t want to know the answer.

“What were you doing at Coop’s tonight?” he asked.

Fran stiffened in his arms. “Did he call you?” she asked.

Will shook his head. “I followed you.”

“You
followed
me? Why?” Fran stepped back. Her face was pale and vulnerable. Dark circles under her eyes stood out like bruises.

“I wanted to find out if you’ve been having an affair,” Will said.

And then he waited.

Fran looked at him. In each moment that ticked by, Will felt his world falling down around him.

“I haven’t. Not exactly,” Fran said.

Will waited, but she didn’t go on. “What does that mean?” he finally asked.

Fran sighed. “It means that I wanted to have an affair with Coop. He turned me down,” she said flatly.

Will looked at her for a long moment. He could hear his breath, loud and ragged, in the quiet night. Fran looked back at him, her eyes large and somber, her makeup smeared. But Will barely noticed this. Mostly, what he thought as he stared down at her, was that he did not know his wife.

Then he turned and walked away from her, heading into the house.

“Will,” Fran called after him.

Will didn’t turn back. He’d spent weeks wondering what
he could have done differently, what he could still do to keep his marriage together. And now, for the first time in their life together, he was no longer sure that he still wanted to be married to Fran.

COOP PUSHED OPEN THE door to the Seawind Day Spa, setting off the chime of a bell. The aroma of rosemary and olive oil and something else—
Patchouli?
he wondered—enveloped him. The cute but ditzy receptionist was behind the desk.

“Hi, there,” she said when she saw Coop. She smiled flirtatiously. “You’re Audrey’s friend. The mani-pedi guy.”

“Right. The mani-pedi guy. Just what I’ve always wanted to be known as.”

The receptionist giggled. “What’s your name again?”

“Coop.”

She smiled at Coop, showing off lots of large white teeth. “I’m Lisa.”

Coop had the feeling that Lisa would be thrilled if he popped a biceps for her. Or asked for her number. And he had to admit, there was a time when she would have been exactly his type. Young, beautiful, vapid.

“Is Audrey here?” Coop asked.

“If you want another pedicure, I can book it for you,” Lisa said helpfully.

“No, thanks,” Coop said. He grinned, taking care not to hit her with his most charming smile. There was no reason to punish the girl. “I was just hoping to talk to Audrey, if she has a free minute.”

Lisa shrugged in a good-natured way. “I’ll go check,” she
said. “She might be in a meeting. That’s what she pretends, sometimes.”

Coop wondered if he should mention to Audrey the obvious deficiencies in her receptionist’s job skills—hitting on potential clients and/or business contacts, an inability to lie convincingly about her boss’s schedule—but decided that when it came to Audrey, he had enough complications to deal with without getting into her staffing issues.

Lisa got up and sashayed to the back of the office. She was wearing a very short plaid skirt that showed off her very long legs. Coop made a valiant effort not to notice.

I do not ogle receptionists. That is not my way. Or, at least, it isn’t anymore
, he thought.

She reappeared a few minutes later.

“Audrey will be right out,” she said.

“Did you give her my name?” Coop asked.

“Mmm-hmm. I said that there was a Carson waiting to see her. Oh, and that you were a repeat customer,” the brunette said.

“It’s Coop.”

“Oh, well. Too late now,” Lisa said.

Audrey’s appearance was heralded by the clicking of high heels against hard floors.

“Lisa, have you called to confirm tomorrow’s appointments yet?” Audrey said as she rounded the corner into the waiting room. She saw Coop and came to an abrupt halt.

“I can, like, call, but people always say they’re coming in, even if they aren’t,” Lisa said, clearly dubious that such phone calls were worth her time.

“Hi,” Coop said.

“Hi,” Audrey said.

She looked beautiful, if a bit flustered. She was wearing a red blazer, a black and white striped shirt, dark jeans, and—as usual—black pumps with very high heels.

I love her
, Coop thought. He knew it absolutely. It was like a spotlight shone down on her, highlighting the crown of her head, the angles of her cheekbones.

Coop opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure what he meant to say—declarations of love, perhaps?—but instead, what came out was, “What is it with you and high heels?”

Audrey frowned and looked down at her shoes. “What?”

“Why do you always wear such high heels?” He had absolutely no idea why he was going on about her shoes.

Stop it. You’re being a jackass
, he told himself.

“Is that why you came here? To ask me about my footwear?” Audrey asked. She crossed her arms.

“Um, no. About something else actually.” Coop glanced at Lisa, who was watching them with frank, wide-eyed curiosity. “Maybe we can go somewhere a little more private?”

“Don’t mind me,” Lisa said, flapping a hand. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

Coop had to swallow back his laugh. And, for a moment, he thought that Audrey was also trying not to grin. However, when she spoke, her voice was cool. “Let’s go to my office.”

Lisa looked disappointed.

“Don’t forget the calls,” Audrey reminded her.

“Oh, right,” Lisa said without enthusiasm.

Coop followed Audrey back to her office.

“Is it wrong that I continue to employ someone I have absolutely no faith in?” she said once they were inside her office, and the door was firmly closed.

“Yes,” Coop said. “But I’m sure she has her good points.”

“I’m sure you noticed all of her good points,” Audrey said darkly. “She doesn’t exactly keep them hidden.”

Coop wasn’t about to fall for that one. “She seemed like a very nice girl,” he said lamely.

Audrey snorted and sat down behind her desk. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“This is all very businesslike,” Coop said, sitting in one of the chairs opposite her desk. It wasn’t exactly the reception he was hoping for, but then again, maybe it was unrealistic to expect Audrey to strip off her clothes and fold herself onto his lap.

“That’s me. I’m all business,” Audrey said.

Coop had a flashback to Audrey in his bed, arching up under him, but decided that mentioning this distinct lack of businesslike behavior might not be in his interest at the moment.

“How was your trip? I never got a chance to ask you about it,” Audrey said.

“It was a mistake,” Coop said. He wished they weren’t having this conversation in an office, across a desk, but didn’t want to squander the opportunity. “I shouldn’t have gone. I should have stayed and worked things out with you instead.”

Audrey’s hand, which had been playing with the pen, stilled. “I told you to go.”

Coop smiled. “I’ve never been one to do as I’m told.”

When Audrey spoke again, her voice was gentle. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. You and I … we’re just too different. It would never have worked.”

This was not what Coop wanted to hear. His feelings were hurt and the childish retort came out before he could stop it. “And you and Kenny are?”

“No. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

Although Coop welcomed this piece of information, he was still stung by Audrey’s lack of enthusiasm over his admission that he’d been wrong to leave. Still, he decided, he might as well make his case.

“You and I were great together. You just need to give it a chance. To give me a chance,” Coop said. He hesitated. “The thing is, I think … I mean, I don’t just think it, I know it … but here’s the thing … I love you.”

Audrey’s eyes seemed to grow darker and larger, and Coop found that he was holding his breath. He flexed his hands over his thighs, amazed to find that his palms were sweating.

“Thank you,” Audrey finally said.

Coop swallowed. “Thank you?” he repeated.

“Yes. That’s a lovely thing to say.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Coop asked. It felt like there was a balloon inflating in his chest. Only no, not a balloon—which was soft and elastic—but something harder, that made it difficult to breathe.

“It’s just … I can’t. I can’t be in love right now,” Audrey said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Forget the balloon. Coop felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He actually had to remind himself to start breathing again. In all the times he had imagined this moment, he had never, not once, thought she’d first thank him—what the hell was that?—and then turn him down. And while some of his ex-girlfriends might chalk that certainty up to his innate cockiness, that wasn’t it. The truth was, he truly did love Audrey. And he thought she might just love him back.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

“Okay, then,” Coop said. He stood, feeling a little shaky.

“Wait,” Audrey said, standing, too, and quickly moving around her desk toward him. She put a hand on his arm. “It’s not you. It’s me.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Jesus, now I am talking in clichés. But this really is about me. I don’t trust myself enough to be with someone else right now. Does that make sense?”

“Not really, no,” Coop said, glancing at the door and wondering if he should just make a run for it.

“I need to figure out why I’m so bad at relationships. And until I do, getting involved with someone … with you … it wouldn’t be fair. Not to you, and not to me.”

“That sounds like a firm, definite no,” Coop said, trying to keep his tone light.

Audrey’s eyes softened, and her grip on his arm tightened. “I’m so sorry.”

Coop nodded stiffly and swallowed. “I am, too,” he said. Then he gently dislodged her hand from his arm, stepped around her, and walked out of her office.

JAIME WAS JUST FINISHING changing Ava’s diaper, when she heard her cellphone.

Crap
, she thought. She’d left her phone in the kitchen.

“Let’s hurry,” she said to her daughter, stretching the diaper tabs to close them, and making a mental note to look into early toilet training. Who knew, maybe Ava would turn out to be a baby prodigy and pick up the idea quickly. It was unlikely. Logan, almost four, still hadn’t mastered the concept.

Jaime plucked Ava off the changing table, which she had
outgrown, and, tucking her daughter on one hip, hurried across the house. She managed to grab the phone right before it went to voice mail.

“Hi, Jaime, it’s me.” It was Emily calling from her cellphone. She sounded upset.

“Emily? Why aren’t you in school?”

“I
am
in school.” Emily was definitely upset. In fact, it sounded like she was in tears, or close to them. “Something terrible’s happened, and I can’t get ahold of my mom.”