Tempted (37 page)

“Let’s get dried off.” He reached for my hand. “Follow me.”

In our bedroom the patter of rain on the roof sounded louder than it had in the kitchen. It was just as dark, though, and James settled the flashlight on the dresser to illuminate the room. I lit a candle on the dresser. The scent of lilac began filling the space between us.

I pulled my shirt off and tossed it into a soggy pile, followed by my shorts and underwear. Naked, I actually felt warmer. My teeth stopped chattering. My nipples pebbled, but the gooseflesh that had humped my arms receded. I found some towels in the bathroom and used one, tossing the other to James.

I rubbed my hair as dry as I could make it, then finger-combed it. It would need a healthy dose of conditioner before I could do more than that. I liked the way it felt hanging down over my shoulders and tickling my back. I wrapped the towel around my body, tucking it under my armpit. It provided only scant coverage, hanging to just below the fluff of my pubic curls, but the plush material felt good on my skin.

“Are you going to leave me?”

The words came from behind me. I wished they’d been said in the dark, so there could be no way I’d be able to see his face. I didn’t want to turn, but when he said my name I had to.

“Are you?” he asked.

“Should I?”

“If you don’t love me anymore. Yes.”

“Oh, James,” I said, my voice more tender than I’d imagined I could be. “I still love you.”

He let out a low, strangled sob and went to his knees in front of me. He pressed his face to my stomach. I touched his hair, lightly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “For all of it. Everything. Please forgive me, Anne.”

I’d never seen James cry. His shoulders heaved, and he grasped me around the thighs with such force I feared I might lose my balance. He wept like it hurt him. It probably did.

I couldn’t stand towering over him this way. I pushed him back, but gently, and knelt in front of him. I pulled him close, and we embraced. His face fit just right against the side of my neck. I smelled rain on him, and the tang of the storm, and underneath it the same solid, clean scent that was uniquely his. He held me so tightly I couldn’t breathe, but only for a moment before his grip eased. We stayed like that as the storm continued to rage outside.

“I love you.” His face against mine was hot and moist. “God, I love you so much I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please don’t leave me, Anne. Please tell me what I can do to make all of this better.”

I sat back to save my aching knees. He took my hands, lacing our fingers snugly so I couldn’t pull too far away. I didn’t want to pull away, but I wanted to put some distance between us.

“I’m not going to leave you, James.”

I couldn’t imagine leaving him. I’d spent a lot of time anticipating that one day our love would fade, our marriage end, but I’d never been able to imagine what life would be like if that happened. I couldn’t think of a life without James in it.

“If you want me to stop seeing him, I will.” His thumbs passed back and forth over the backs of my hands. “Or…if you want him to come back.”

That option made me shiver. “No.”

James sighed, his head drooping so shadows hid his face for a moment. “He told me the same thing you did. That you ended it.”

“I should have.”

“Do you love him?” He looked into my eyes like he was ready for the answer, no matter what it was. “Would you rather be with him than me?”

I looked around our bedroom, smelling of lilac and thunderstorms and lit by flickering golden light as well as the harsh bright glare of the flashlight. I looked at our bed, our dresser, the desk that had once belonged to his grandmother. This was my house and home. The life we’d made for ourselves. It was perhaps not a perfect life, but it was a damned good one.

“I don’t think so, James.”

His laugh sounded more like a groan than a chuckle. “You don’t think so? You’re not sure?”

I replied without quite answering. “I’m not the same person with him that I am with you.”

He let go of my hands. I reached to take them back. I lifted each to my lips, kissing the familiar fingers. I pressed one to my cheek.

“I love you,” I told him. “And all of this, our life, is everything I wished to have but wasn’t sure I could keep. I never felt like that with Alex, James. I always knew that what we shared wouldn’t last. He never belonged to me. Not the way you do.”

It was a time for tears, but I didn’t weep. I kissed him, instead, and held him close to me. Outside, the storm passed.

Inside, it had passed, too.

Of course, none of that happened.

Something did change, though, inside myself. I stopped believing I could somehow fix it all. I didn’t have to be the one to make it all better. I didn’t have to be in charge. And somehow, they all managed.

The summer that had seemed so long and bright with possibility just four months ago had passed into fall. Too early for the trees to begin changing, the weather turned cool and cloudy. My yard and its lack of landscaping mocked me as a constant reminder of all the plans I’d failed to complete. I compensated by buying bags of bulbs and a special new tool designed to pull out plugs of earth just the right size for them. I bought gardening gloves, too, and special soil additives, and a watering can and a sun hat that tied beneath my chin but hung forgotten on the back of the kitchen door.

The significance of my efforts wasn’t lost on me. We’d spent the summer rooting things up, James and I. Now was the time to see if we could make things grow.

“I got a call from Mary.” Claire handed me another daffodil bulb. Six months along, her belly and breasts rounded like melons, she refused to bend over to help me plant but was perfectly satisfied to sit in the cool fall sunshine and watch me work. Or assist, she called it, which was to comment on my choices and hand me an occasional bulb.

I’d also had a call from Mary. No surprise, considering how attached she was to her cell phone. I made a noncommittal noise and concentrating on raking up another patch of earth with my garden trident.

“She’s fine,” said Claire, like I couldn’t guess. “She said school’s great so far.”

“That’s good.” I swiped a hand across my forehead. The air might be cool but the work wasn’t made easier for it. “How’s Betts?”

“Fine. They’re going to her house for Thanksgiving this year. Can’t wait to see how that goes over.”

“Thanksgiving.” I sat back on my heels. “I think I’ll cook this year. Want to come here?”

Claire rubbed a hand over her stomach. “You’re not going to the Kinneys’?”

“No.”

“You inviting them here?”

“I don’t think so. No.” I smiled.

“Then I’m here, baby. Last thing I need is the third degree from Mrs. Kinney about what I plan to do about the baby.”

I reached for my bottle of water and took a long swig. “What do you plan to do about the baby?”

Claire took her time answering. “I’m keeping him.”

I knew that already. It wasn’t exactly what I’d meant to ask. “What do Mom and Dad say?”

“Mom says whatever Dad says, and he won’t talk to me about it.”

I smiled. “Figures.”

She shrugged. “Patricia said I can stay as long as I have to, even after the baby’s born.”

“Saying it’s easy,” I said. “How are you getting along?”

She grinned. “Fine. Since she kicked Sean out, she’s actually been way less uptight. That money from Alex really eased the way.”

I could tell she was baiting the hook, but I chose not to take it. “Good.”

“And I have the job with Alterna. They have on-site childcare. I’m only three credits from finishing my degree, and they’ll do tuition reimbursement so long as I’m with them for at least a year.”

“A year’s a long time, Claire. Can you make that sort of commitment?” I teased.

She laughed and gave me the finger. “I’m not marrying the job, Anne.”

I worked a while longer, until my back and knees ached. My fingers ached, too, from gripping the tools. I groaned and stretched until my joints popped and cracked. I stood, surveying the work I’d done.

“It looks good.” Claire gave me two thumbs-up. “It’ll be really pretty in the spring.”

It was hard to see beauty in the patches of bare earth. I had difficulty envisioning how the dry, papery bulbs I’d planted would bloom into clusters like the pictures on the mesh bags that had contained them. I was glad I had my sister there to show me.

We both looked up at the crunch of tires on the gravel. I was expecting James, but the blue car pulling into the drive didn’t look familiar. At least not to me.

“It’s Dean!”

I’d seen Claire show enthusiasm for movies or rock stars or television programs. I’d never seen her look the way she did about the young man stepping out of the car in my driveway. Her entire face lit. I noticed something else, too, how she put her hands on her belly, almost by reflex.

She turned to me. “Umm…do you mind if I don’t stay for dinner? I didn’t think he’d be off work this early.”

I gave her a raised eyebrow. “Dean?”

She actually blushed, something I’d never seen her do. Ever. “He’s a friend.”

“Uh-huh.”

He strode toward us, hands in his pockets. Tall and lean, with sandy hair and a spray of freckles I could see across his nose as he got closer, Dean was not the sort of emo goth boy Claire usually favored. Then again, I supposed the principal of a local school wouldn’t have fit her profile, either.

“Claire,” Dean said, a tinge of the South in his voice. “I finished early. Thought I’d see if you wanted to come to dinner with me, after all.”

He looked at me, then held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Dean.”

He had a firm, warm handshake I returned. “Anne. Claire’s sister.”

She rolled her eyes. “Duh, Anne, like I didn’t tell him that already when I told him where I’d be and how to get here.”

Dean had a nice smile, the sort that crinkled up his eyes at the corners. He was looking at my sister like she was something precious. I liked him right away.

“Claire was going to stay for dinner here,” I said, making mischief. “You’re welcome to join us.”

They answered at the same time, him with a “Sure,” and her with a “No, thanks.” They stopped and looked at each other, spoke again with the response the other had given. We all laughed.

“Relax,” I told her. “I won’t embarrass you. I promise. And I’ll keep James in line, too.”

The truth was, I didn’t want to eat dinner alone with my husband. Having a buffer made it easier to deal with the strain between us. Left to ourselves, we’d been tending to long stretches of quiet that weren’t angry…just sad. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to us. We didn’t feel over. The problem was, we didn’t feel much of anything else, either.

Claire looked hesitant. I’d met some of her previous dates, even a boyfriend or two, but though she’d often bragged or overshared about her extravagant love life, she’d kept most of it hidden. We had teased her a lot about being embarrassed by us, her sisters, when we knew it was probably half-true.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Dean said.

I wondered how long she’d been seeing him, and what sort of man would begin dating a pregnant woman. “It’s lasagna, Claire. And garlic bread.”

She groaned, a hand on her stomach. “That’s right. Bribe me. My sister makes the best damn lasagna, Dean. And garlic bread to die for.”

“It’s my one talent,” I told him.

He smiled at us both. “Sounds like it’s a plan, then, doesn’t it?”

Claire chewed her lower lip for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. Okay. But no asking Anne about stories from when I was a kid and no sharing old photo albums, you got it?”

Neither of us looked threatened, even though she’d put on a tough face. Dean made an X with his fingers on his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Anne?” She stabbed a finger at me.

“Don’t look at me,” I said, innocent. “I don’t even have any embarrassing stories about you. Well, if you don’t count the time you—”

“Anne!”

“Relax, l’il sissy,” I said. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

She started to give me the finger, but with a glance at Dean turned it into the shaking of her fist. Interesting, that.

I dusted off my hands. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. You guys can help yourselves to something to drink and the TV, if you want.”

I made the shower longer than quick. Standing under the hot water felt so good I didn’t want to get out. It pounded away at the knots in my shoulders and back and covered up the sounds from outside until all I could hear was the pounding of water all around me. By the time I’d finished, steam had turned the bathroom into a cloud-bank.

“Hey.”

James’s low greeting startled me so much as I came out of the bathroom that I jumped and whacked my elbow on the doorframe. I clutched my towel around me. He must have just arrived home, because he hadn’t yet even changed his clothes.

“Hi,” I said.

We stared at each other for a moment before I broke my gaze to search in my drawer for some underwear. James stripped out of his clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket. I watched him as I stepped into my panties and pulled them up, then hooked my bra.

The summer hadn’t changed him much. He was leaner, harder, a little more bronzed on his arms from his work on the construction sites. He was still the same man I’d made love to with such passion only a few months ago. He moved the same, and smelled the same, and spoke the same. We were both the same, yet different. Once, I’d stared at him sleeping as my heart tumbled in my chest with wonder at how lucky I was to have him. Now I watched him stripping and felt the same twisting sensation, the rolling dip of the first hill on the roller coaster.

He caught me looking. “Anne?”

I shook myself a little and turned to find a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Are you going to take a shower? Dinner’ll be ready in about five minutes.”

“Yeah, I need one.”

I felt his eyes on me as I tugged the jeans over my hips and buttoned them. “Did you see Claire and her friend?”

“Yeah. Dean. He seems nice.”

“Yes.” I found a T-shirt, soft and faded, that wasn’t mine. My fingers passed it by and found another.

“Is he her boyfriend?”

I pulled on the T-shirt and looked at James, still so comfortable in his nudity. “I don’t know.”

He smiled. “Are you going to ask her?”

“Not with him around, no. I promised not to embarrass her. And that you wouldn’t, either.”

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands as he backed into the bathroom. “I’ll behave.”

“Good. Or else you’ll be in trouble.”

He paused, eyes gleaming. “Ooh. What’ll you do, give me a spanking?”

“You wish.” I smiled and tossed my damp towel at him. “Hang this up.”

He bowed. “Your wish is my command.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I said before I realized how it would sound.

James straightened, towel shielding him. “Anne…”

“The oven’s pinging.” I flashed him a smile meant to ease his mind but which probably didn’t, and ducked out of the room.

I’d put the lasagna on warm and now only needed to finish toasting the bread and tossing the salad, two tasks with which Claire and Dean were willing to help. I set the table and poured iced tea. By the time James had come out of the shower, dinner was ready.

It was a nice meal. Dean proved to be well-spoken and funny. He and Claire had an interesting dynamic. She was softer around him, but not like she was trying to change her personality. More like he brought out another side of it. He and James hit it off, talking about sports and tools and things about which Claire and I had no opinions. I was content not to talk much, anyway.

Although I’d convinced her to stay for dinner, I couldn’t manage to get my sister to agree to stay to watch a movie. Her response to my offer was a typical rolling of the eyes. She plunked the lasagna pan into the hot soapy water and dried her hands before stepping away.

“As if,” she said. “Dean’s taking me to the movies.”

“Oh, a real date?” I looked into the den, where James was showing Dean some sort of sports memorabilia. “Look at that. James. Dean. James Dean.”

And I was thinking of Alex again.

“Good one, Anne.” Claire patted my shoulder. “Very clever.”

I nodded and turned my attention to the sink full of dirty dishes. “What can I say? I’m a pundit.”

The patting of my shoulder turned into a one-armed hug. “You okay?”

“Sure. Fine.” I smiled at her. “Always am, aren’t I?”

She blew a raspberry at me. “You’re a shitty liar.”

“How long have you known him? Dean?”

She chewed her lower lip again, a mannerism that reminded me of Mary. “A couple years.”

I was so surprised I could only stare at her. “What?”

She looked guilty, another unusual expression for her. “You heard me.”

“But…you didn’t…”

“Date him? No.” Her smile turned a little secretive as she looked at him. “It never worked out until now.”

“Is it working out now?” I had to ask. She wasn’t just my younger sister, she was my baby sister.

“I think so. Yeah.” She looked over at him again, and her gaze softened. “Yeah.”