The Good Enough Husband (12 page)

They turned to face the grove of oak trees to the east, the ocean beating its timeless rhythm behind them.

Ben wrapped an arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder. She was going to miss this. But she couldn’t stay.

Ben turned to her. “Your hair. It’s all curly again.”

Hannah put a tentative hand through her hair. Indeed, it was back to its natural state, tiny corkscrew curls rioting around her head and shoulders. She started to pull the elastic band from her wrist and twist a manageable ponytail when Ben stopped her.

“Don’t. I like it.” The intensity of his gaze made the insistent throb of arousal start between her legs. “Are you over Michael?” It was as if a tsunami-sized wave had swelled from the ocean and drenched them.

“Why…”

“I heard you call his name this morning.” Ben ran a hand through his own unruly waves mussed by the wind. “You avoided my questions about him last night.”

The doggy distraction hadn’t worked. Itching for her absent camera, she gazed upwards. The sun had not yet risen over the horizon. If she’d brought her Canon, she could put the heavy machinery up to her eye, keeping Ben from seeing her face and asking too many questions.

“Hannah?” Ben asked insistently. She looked down at her hands; no camera, no cover.

“There really isn’t much to say.” Hannah paused a long time, trying to find the best way to tell most of the truth. “We were friends for a lot of years, decided to get married out of boredom more than anything else. After a couple of years, it wasn’t working out.” Hannah said in a rush. There, that was done. Every sentence she had uttered was the truth, even if Michael didn’t know it yet.

“Are you over him?”

“Ben I couldn’t have been with you in that way if I wasn’t over him.” The heat rose on her cheeks. Hannah had given herself to Ben in a way she hadn’t with any other man. It had been at once deeply moving, and liberating. It was the first time she hadn’t held anything back. He knew without a doubt how much she wanted him. She was sure it had been written all over her face every time she’d come. But she’d let down her guard because she had nothing to lose, and so much to gain.

She didn’t want to answer any more questions about Michael. Banishment befitted the specter that kept rising between them. Hannah banished Michael and silenced Ben in the best way she knew how. She wrapped his blanket around the two of them, and threw her legs over his hips, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

When her kiss hit its intended target, Ben gave up asking questions. All at once, his hands were everywhere, smoothing her hair, unhooking her bra, unbuttoning her pants.

“Ben, do you.…? Can we?”

“God, yes. I’ve never seen a soul out here in the morning.”

One minute she had the upper hand, in the next, her pants and panties were down around her ankles, her shirt was pushed up u
nder her neck, and Ben was sheathing himself, filling her with his hard, thick penis, and mercilessly teasing her nipples. This was their first so-called quickie. She wanted it to last forever. Ben was in complete control of the pace. With nothing more to do, Hannah threw her head back and enjoyed the ride. It was going to be the last time for them for some time. As she heard his breath hitch, and caught her own in her throat as she came apart, she opened her eyes to see the sun peeking through the mist on the horizon. Ben had been right. The sunrise was spectacular.

Ben drove her home in her car and puttered around his parents’ house while she showered and packed. He helped her load all her stuff in the SUV. He put two pills in the palm of her hand, and delicately closed her fingers over her palm.

“In case you don’t do the trip in one day. The dose of tranquilizer I gave Cody should be enough to get him through the long ride. He’ll mostly sleep along the way. If you stop, for the night, he’ll need one of these for tomorrow.”

She wedged the pills in the change pocket of her jeans.

It was and it wasn’t goodbye. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She willed them not to fall.

“I’ll give you a call when I get home, okay?” She gave him one last kiss, and looked away from his intense gaze as she swung he
rself up into the SUV. She looked over her shoulder into the back seat and cargo area. Cody was secure, as was her luggage. She had water and a couple of granola bars at hand, but she didn’t have Ben. It would be a long time and thirteen hundred miles before she would be with him again.

She looked back at Ben one last time. He was gesturing for her to roll down her window. She pushed the lever with one finger. The motor hummed as the glass glided down almost silently.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For being the one person in my life that hasn’t lied to me.”

8

No way around it, Hannah had lied to Ben. During the unending drive back to Newport, she worked out how she was going to keep Ben from finding out the truth. It was easy. Two simple steps: wrap up life down here, and get back up there. It shouldn’t take more than two weeks. Michael would realize their marriage was a mistake and be happy to divorce her. His family had never really liked her. Their worlds had never meshed. Hannah was confident that it would be an easy decision for him.

By the time she pulled up the driveway of the house she’d shared with Michael for more than a year, it was nearly nine o’clock. Wearily, she pushed the garage door opener on the roof of the car and drove the last few feet into the garage. When the door reached the top and the light illuminated, she shouldn’t have been
surprised to see Michael standing there. He prided himself on always being her one man welcoming committee.

Ever the metrosexual, he stood, in his usual lounging clothes. The Hugo Boss drawstring pants and matching sweatshirt he dut
ifully bought from Nordstrom every fall. In every way he seemed the opposite of Ben. Where Ben was dark, he was light, with quintessential blond hair, blue-eyed, all-American good looks. Where Ben was tall and broad, Michael was slight. He was her height, and only outweighed her by a few pounds. She had always wished she could have been more physically attracted to him. Their marriage might have worked out better if she had.

The minute she stepped from the running board, he wrapped her in a weak hug. His head moved in for a kiss, but she turned her head, ostensibly to get the dog from the car.

“Can you help me get Cody out?”

Michael pulled open the door and looked at the groggy dog. “What’s wrong with him?”

Could he not remember why she’d stopped on the Lost Coast? “The vet up there gave me some tranquilizers.”

Lifting Cody out onto shaky legs, he looked at her skeptically. “Your north coast vet sounds like a quack. I hope he’s better by tomorrow. I’d like to take him on a hike before work.”

If Hannah had been a dog, her hackles would have risen. “He was not a quack. Ben was a very qualified veterinarian.”

“Aww, it sounds like you have a soft spot for the old small town vet. I bet you charmed the socks off the old guy.”

She did not want to talk about Ben with him. “Help me get him into the house.”

They got Cody watered. Soon the dog was ensconced in his bed in her home office where he usually spent much of his day, curled up near her feet.

“Are you going to get your bags?”

That wasn’t a backhanded offer of help. Hannah didn’t give Michael that benefit of the doubt. Tonight she was thankful that he wasn’t the kind of guy to offer to help her out because she didn’t want him anywhere near her stuff. She wanted to unpack at her leisure, reliving the last two weeks with Ben. “No, it can all wait until tomorrow. I want to go to bed.”

Michael waggled his eyebrows at her, Groucho Marx style. “So do I.”

Hannah sighed inwardly. Of course she should have suspected that her husband would want to have sex with her. It had been more than two weeks for him, and he’d always had a healthy lib
ido.

Turning out lights throughout the house, they walked to the master suite.

“Michael, I’ve been driving for like eleven or twelve hours. Cut me some slack. I want to sleep, okay?” She sagged onto one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. She leaned down to take off her shoes and socks, tossing them aside carelessly.

“Okay, okay,” Michael said, coming to squat beside her. He stroked her hair, pulling it back to kiss her neck. “I missed you.” She shrugged him off and got up to walk into the closet. She dep
osited the rest of her clothes in the hamper and pulled on a t-shirt and old, stained sweats, hoping Michael would take the hint.

When she came back into the bedroom, Michael was in bed, under the covers, flicking away on his iPad. Suddenly she could see why Ben eschewed technology. Michael was always on his Blackberry or his laptop or this iPad, his latest gadget—checking stock prices, or sports scores, or weather. He didn’t really need any of it.

He laid the tablet on the bed, screen side up. A quick glance revealed that he was looking at porn.

“I know you’re tired. But can’t you touch me a little?”

She’d been down this road before. If she said no, they’d end up wrestling with this for an hour. He’d whine that she wasn’t sexual enough. She’d complain that he was selfish. Hannah needed to get out of this with the least fuss possible.

“What do you want?”

One beat too late, she realized her mistake too late. “I’d love a blow job.” Michael pulled down the covers to reveal his nude form, erect penis twitching in anticipation. Before they started trying for a baby, this had been his preferred way to have sex. He liked fantasizing about other women, usually busty, barely legal blondes, while she licked and sucked his cock. He’d said time and again that their encounters were all about her. The women on the screen were extra, like sprinkles on an ice cream cone. She’d pretended to be placated, all the while growing more disgusted. Vindicated when he’d had to acquiesce to plain vanilla sex during the fertility treatments, he was back to his old ways now that there was zero possibility of a baby on the horizon.

“Can I touch you?”

A hand job was second best for him. Already painfully aroused, Michael didn’t have the heart to put up a fight. Hannah opened the bedside table and filled her palm with the baby oil she kept for this purpose. As she’d done a thousand times before, she knelt between his legs and slicked both of her hands up and down his throbbing cock.

If Michael was inside her, he never lasted more than a few seconds. But he could go on forever like this. Tonight was no di
fferent. She shifted and reshifted her travel weary limbs as he moaned in delight. Seconds before he came, he asked her to lick her lips simulating fellatio. Hannah tried not to let humiliation shrivel her pride and did as she was told. He closed his eyes, spurting all over himself. She did as she always did, got up and made her way to the bathroom for tissue. Passing him the scented pink wad, she went back to wash her hands of the whole night.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Michael asked when she came back into the room, night cream in hand.

The elephant in the room had lifted its trunk and trumpeted. “I know that I went away at a really bad time,” she started. The news that came from Dr. Stern should have been a game changer, but she’d made her decision before that little bomb had been dropped on her already decimated marriage. “I’m really sorry, Michael. I really am. But I think we need time to think about this. I don’t know what I want to do yet, and I don’t want to go rushing into anything we might regret.”

Michael laid down and pulled the covers over his bare shou
lder. “Okay, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” She knew from his tone he wanted to say more. Hannah finished rubbing cream into her face and hands, and pulled her hair back into one thick braid. Out of things to do, she knew she was going to have to share her bed with her husband. Wishing she were anywhere but here, she pulled back the covers on her side, and lie in the bed she’d made for herself.

***

When Hannah woke up alone she was grateful, for once, that Michael worked in finance. He was always up and out of the house in time for the opening bell of the New York Stock Exchange. Cody was wagging his tail by the bedroom door, imploring her to let him in. She slapped the bedcovers and he jumped on the bed. Michael hated dog hair on the duvet, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. After yesterday’s marathon drive, the dog didn’t seem any worse for wear. She was grateful for Ben’s thoughtfulness in providing tranquilizers. She pulled a couple of foxtails from Cody’s fur. Michael had obviously taken the dog out for an early morning run. He was zealous about making sure that he and the dog got exercise.

She showered, dressed, and with dog in tow, went to unload the car. Everything was as she’d left it, carefully packed in the SUV. In three trips, she brought it all to the bedroom. Opening her sa
tchel, she was surprised to find Ben’s t-shirt and boxers. She didn’t remember taking them from his place. Unconsciously, she must have wanted to keep a tangible connection to him. Hannah brought the garments to her nose reveling in her and Ben’s mingled scents. Senses on overload, all the intense feelings of the last weeks came flooding back in a rush. Hannah luxuriated in the feeling of burgeoning love. She folded the items carefully and tucked them in the back of her underwear drawer. One by one, she unpacked all the other things she’d taken for her retreat. Only when she heard the thud of mail in the box, and the mailman’s truck rumble down the street did she realize that more than two hours had passed since she’d started her journey down memory lane.

Ignoring the growl of her stomach, Hannah slipped her co
mputer bag over her shoulder and padded her way to the den. Her desk was as empty as when she’d left. Not one speck of dust marred the sheen of the recently polished wood. She plugged her laptop into the wall. When she lifted the lid, she ignored the pings signifying hundreds of e-mails she’d missed.

Instead, she moused over to her pictures and clicked the last folder she’d created. She was rewarded with fifteen diagonal inc
hes of high resolution Ben. Tucking her legs under her, she took her time clicking first one shot, then another. The lighting on the beach had been perfect. Having used a wide open aperture, anything that could have detracted from Ben blurred into the background. In sharp focus were his eyes. She looked from one picture to another, searching for clues about his feelings. It wasn’t until she got to the pictures that she’d taken by candlelight in his parents’ guest room that she saw it. She couldn’t remember if the kiss had come before or after, but in these pictures, she thought she saw fire reflected in his blue gray eyes. Whether from the candle’s reflection or from the fire that burned within them that night, she didn’t know.

The slam of the front door jolted Hannah. Her gaze snapped to the clock on the wall. It wasn’t yet two in the afternoon.

“Michael is that you?”

“Yep,” he said, whistling. She heard him toss his keys in the box by the garage door, and listened as his shoes clicked on the
wood floor. He poked his head in the study. Heart pounding in her chest, she snapped the lid of the laptop shut.

“You’re early.” She was standing, with her hand firmly on her computer lid, when he strode into the room.

“The stock exchange is closed. I’ve done nothing but work while you were away. I missed you, baby.” He came around to her side of the desk, his hand joining hers on the lid. “What were you working on?”

“Slogging through the backlog of e-mail. I didn’t really have great internet up there. You know how it is.”

Michael pulled her to him, and she hugged him dutifully, hoping he attributed her racing heart to him. When he pulled back, his eyes didn’t meet hers. He started picking up random books and papers from her desk and examining them intently. She knew this deflection; he was hiding something. Her heart slowed.

“Did you hear something else from Dr. Stern’s office?” Please, God, let a cure not have been found.

“No. But the good news is that my parents are expecting us this afternoon.”

She wouldn’t have called that good news. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Maggie and Drake. Her in-laws were well meaning people. She didn’t like spending time with them because she couldn’t forgive their casual racism. They were the opposite of everything she’d grown up with. They were suburban and conser
vative, and couldn’t imagine a life outside of Orange County. They’d retired early and as far as she could tell, spent their days golfing, sailing, and watching Fox News.

“Did you tell them?” Michael didn’t keep secrets from anyone in his family. Their marriage might as well be an open book. Ma
ggie and Drake knew too much about their finances, their fertility problems, and their sex life. The lack of discretion with his parents had caused more than one rift in their relationship.

Michael nodded. “They’re my parents, Hannah. They have the right to know that we may not be able to give them grandchildren.” No doubt, the look on her face had prompted that explanation.

“When are we due?” she asked, buoyant. This would be the last obligatory family gatherings she’d ever have to attend with him.

Michael’s eyes narrowed at her easy acquiescence. “I told them we’d be there around three.”

Hannah looked down at the same sweats she’d armored herself in last night. “I guess I’d better get ready then.”

***

A ping emanated from the dashboard before Hannah had driven to the end of Twenty-Third Street. At the first stop sign, she looked at all the indicator lights trying to remember what that particular chime alerted.

“It’s the gas, Hannah,” Michael said, exasperation in his voice.

“Gas?”

“You’re out of it. Pull up to the 76 on the 55.”

“The overpriced gas?” she asked.

“It’s a total of two dollars, Hannah,” Michael said looking at his watch. “Or we can drive all over creation looking to save five cents a gallon. Your choice.”

Didn’t really sound like her choice. She did what he’d requested, and pulled the car up to the pump. Then she waited. Michael looked at her expectantly. She huffed, opened the driver’s door and walked around to the pump. She had to knock on the passenger door to get Michael to hand over her purse and wallet. She sucked her teeth in frustration. Why couldn’t this man ever pump gas for her? Yes, she was a strong woman. And yes, she was self-sufficient. But did Michael think chivalry was dead? She waited while twenty-two gallons of fuel filled her tank.