The Good Enough Husband (21 page)

“A few crazy calls. I’m going to fly down to Orange County on Tuesday to tie up some loose ends.”

He came back down for a more serious kiss this time. She felt like a high school student, kissing against a locker. Hannah was both aroused and cognizant of the inappropriateness of the setting.

“Come with me,” Ben said, dragging her to the family room. “I think you’re going to want to stick around for this.”

She took the glass Ben proffered. “Sparkling cider,” he said in answer to her querying gaze. The cool liquid felt like heaven in her parched mouth. Ben stepped away and got his own glass. Such a festive family to drink sparkling wine and cider on Thanksgiving. He opened a drawer in his parent’s secretary and retrieved something.

Above the din of a dozen people talking, drinking, and laug
hing, Hannah heard the doorbell ring. Someone let the guest in, and Hannah didn’t think anything more of it. Probably another friend of the Cooper family. Good thing Elaine had enough food for a crowd.

Ben clinked a heavy gold letter opener on his glass, and the crowd quieted. As if on cue, those who had been in the kitchen with Elaine or in the library with Walter drifted toward the family room.

“I have something to say,” Ben said. The crowd grew quieter in anticipation.

“As most of you know, my life has had a lot of ups and downs over the past few years. Mostly down. Things started looking up when I met Hannah Keesling. Cody may have been the best thing that ever happened to me.” The crowd laughed. “I’m sorry, Ha
nnah,” he said looking anything but sorry. “But I can’t keep something this big a secret. Hannah’s pregnant!” Noises of surprise came from those who didn’t know. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Oh, really! Who’s the father?” Everyone but Hannah laughed at Abbe’s joke.

Hannah looked away from Ben when she heard heavy shoes on the wood floor.

Michael.

Ben, oblivious to the new guest, knelt in front of her in a timeless gesture. A turquoise box appeared as if out of nowhere. She knew what was coming, but couldn’t stop it. Hannah couldn’t stop this any more than she could stop a speeding freight train. Even though she knew it would end in a crash.

“Hannah, I knew the day you walked into my clinic, that you were going to change my life. I didn’t know how much. You saved me from myself.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Elaine nodding. “I want to have you, have this baby with me for the rest of my life. Hannah Keesling, will you marry me?”

As everyone realized what was happening, the crowd went silent. Now that the time had come for her to give her answer, Hannah didn’t know what to do. She yearned to say yes. She wanted to shout her acceptance, and was on the verge of doing that when Michael cleared his throat noisily. She broke eye contact with Ben, looked up, meeting Michael’s blue eyes—the coldest she’d ever seen them.

She shook her head. He couldn’t do this here. He couldn’t do this to her. They were over, done with. All that needed to happen was for them to sign some papers. But Michael didn’t look done. The train was about to crash. Hannah closed her eyes and waited for the bang, the inevitable twisting of metal, the screams from passengers. Instead, she heard Michael’s voice.

“She can’t marry you, Ben Cooper,” he said. Hannah’s heart tripped. It went from hundreds of beats per minute to utter stillness. Without blood pounding in her ears, she could hear muted gasps from the crowd. “Hannah is already married—to me.”

14

A trickle of laughter escaped Ben before the sound lodged in his throat. “Abbe?” he croaked as if she’d made a joke. Abbe shook her head very, very slowly. He turned back to Hannah. She could hear the clomp, clomp of Michael’s shoes on the one hundred and fifty-year-old wood planks as he advanced on them.

She looked down at the man she loved as his face changed from happiness, to puzzlement, to anguish. “Hannah?” Ben stood. The velvet box thudded to the floor, forgotten. Michael’s hand, possessive on her arm, prevented her from rescuing the ring.

Rounding on Michael, she pointed a finger at his chest. “How did you…”

“Find my iPhone.”

Jerking her arm from his grasp, she looked at Ben, but couldn’t force a word past her lips.

“Is he your…husband?” he said, his voice going hoarse with betrayal.

She caught his hand. There was a glimmer of hope in Ben’s eyes—like this was some cruel prank. But it was not an episode of
Candid Camera
, or
Punk’d
. There was no comic relief around the corner. “Yes, but…” As she had from Michael, Ben pulled his hand from hers like it was on fire. The explanation died on her lips.

“But here’s the kicker, Ben Cooper,” Michael continued. “The baby could be mine.”

Hannah got no chance to explain. Ben was out the door. Squealing tires raced from the curb, the sound reverberating through the thinly insulated house. She turned to Michael.

“Hannah, I love…” Though she’d never been a violent person, she slapped Michael as hard as she could and ran to Ben’s room. She slammed the door and clung to the mussed bedcovers before the few happy memories they’d shared in this room began to fade.

***

Love someone, get lied to, be betrayed—rinse and repeat. What had he done in a past life to have this happen to him three different times? He lifted his head from his hands, glancing around the da
rkened interior of Hannah’s car. All he could think about was driving to some big box mega mart, and buying and putting some kind of very large firearm to his head. At that moment, he was supremely thankful for the Brady bill. In seven days, maybe he’d want to harm himself a little less.

Fuck it. He wasn’t going to be a naïve little wuss like the last time. He jerked open the glove box and pulled out the registration and insurance. “Hannah and/or Michael Keesling,” both doc
uments read. There was an address in Newport Beach. He rifled through the remaining papers, as if he needed more proof.

Something metallic clinked to the carpeted floor mat. He punched the overhead light on and felt below the passenger seat. When he sat up, an engagement ring, much larger than the one he’d bought, rested in the palm of his hand. He fisted the ring and banged it against the driver’s window. Instead of the satisfying crack of glass, he pulled back a sore right hand. The howl he r
eleased would have scared the neighbors if the car’s soundproofing hadn’t kept it contained.

***

The downstairs rooms were in near darkness. Ben didn’t know how long he’d been gone, but everyone had left. He started the slow climb up the long staircase. He didn’t want to come back here, see Hannah, suffer the pity of his family, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He didn’t even have a damned car. He was an ass for letting Hannah convince him to drive her fancy, schmancy car with all its bells and whistles. And that damned ring—he’d done it again. Lost himself—changed his whole life around for some cheating woman. Maybe
he
should be the singer. He was warring between blues and a country music guy done wrong, when he opened the door to his childhood bedroom.

Hannah was sagged into Ben’s bed, her eyes puffy and non-seeing. His tiny mom sat next to her, her thin arms wrapped around Hannah’s back. His father was there too, sitting in the wingback chair looking thoughtful.

His sister emerged from the bathroom, damp washcloth in hand. She was the first to notice his intrusion on their little tableau. “Ben! Where have you been? We were worried about you. The way you peeled out of here…”

“Oh, Benji,” his mom said. Her voice was the one woman pity party he’d wanted to avoid. “Abbe, Walter, let’s go,” his mom said, standing up. “I think Hannah and Ben need to talk.”

Abbe handed Hannah the washcloth and all three members of his little nuclear family left him alone with her. It took all the will in the world for him to keep still, leaning against the wall by the door. He crossed his arms for good measure. Damn it, she was even beautiful all red-faced and puffy-eyed. He wanted nothing more than to open his arms, take her in his, and tell her that everything was going to be okay. But everything was
not
going to be okay. Hours ago, he’d pledged to spend his life with her, but she’d already made that pledge with someone else. It was time for her to go home and fulfill her own vows to someone who was not him.

“Where’s Michael?” It wasn’t what he’d meant to lead with. But he’d kill that bastard if he was anywhere within a ten mile r
adius of his family. Justified anger was obviously making the guy unstable.

She looked up at him, tears still leaking from her reddened eyes. Silence stretched for a long time.

“I don’t care,” she answered, her own voice hoarse. She looked away as fresh tears sprung from her eyes.

“Are you married to him, Hannah?”

More silence. Then a small nod.

“Did you file for dissolution?”

Head shake.

“Are you at least separated?”

“I told Michael it was over.”

“When?”

Hannah’s glistening eyes shifted away. She dabbed at her face with the washcloth Abbe had given her.

“Look at me!” He tried to keep a cool head, but he could hear his own voice rising. “When did you tell Michael it was over?”

Those brown eyes he’d thought so trustworthy met his. “After I met you—″

Lies, lies, lies. Ben turned away. He opened the door and strode into the hallway. He’d take the real guest room. He needed the oblivion of sleep. Tomorrow, he’d figure it out. Tomorrow.

Her voice reached out to him in the hall. “Ben, wait.” She ran out to stop him. Hannah pulled at his shoulder to turn him toward her. He turned, but shrugged her hand away. “I was planning to leave him anyway…”

“You take the car back to Shelter Cove. I’ll find another way home,” he said.

“No, you take the car. I need to go back to Newport.”

“You’re going back to him?” He hated the desperate note in his voice. Of course she was going back. Michael was her husband. Not him. Never him.

“No, I’m going to file for divorce.”

“What about Cody?”

“Can you take care of the dog? I’ll be back for him.”

Details settled, he turned away again.

“Ben…”

He’d forgotten something. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out Hannah’s real engagement ring and wedding band.

“I think you shouldn’t keep something so expensive in the glove compartment,” he said, pulling her free hand toward him and folding the glittering jewelry inside.

He didn’t turn around again. If he saw her one more time, he’d throw all good sense to the wind, pull her to him, pardon all her sins. But he wasn’t God. Her sins were too big for a mere mortal like himself to forgive.

“Goodbye, Hannah.”

***

He didn’t even ask about the baby. It couldn’t be Michael’s. They’d only had the one encounter. What happened with Michael could barely be called intercourse. Hannah looked down at her hands, bare of rings. She was dogless, manless, and likely homeless. Her phone weighed in her pocket like rocks. No reason to turn it off now, the jig was up. Michael knew exactly where she was.

The thought that the baby inside her could belong to Michael was eating her up. Knowing full well the clinic was closed up tight for Thanksgiving, she dialed the number anyway. Hannah listened to the message wishing her a happy and fruitful holiday season. The Pacific Center for Reproductive Health wouldn’t be open until Monday. Goddamn, Monday. The wait to find out the results of Michael’s test was a prison sentence.

The yawning hunger turning her stomach inside out propelled Hannah from the isolation of Ben’s room. She’d tried to ignore it, but she finally had to give in, when her head started to float away from her body. If it were only her, she would have holed up in the room and expired from hunger. But she wanted the baby inside of her, and it would need energy. She pushed open the swinging kitchen door only to find Walter sitting alone at the small breakfast table having a lonely turkey dinner. Michael had ruined Thanksgiving for this wonderful family.

“I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Come, sit. I’ll get you a little something.”

Walter was surprisingly spry and adept without his wife around. In no time, he had a plate full to heaping with turkey and all the fixings.

“Thank you,” Hannah said. Walter sat across from her and continued working away at his meal. “I don’t know what to say…”

“Do you love him? Ben, that is?”

Hannah didn’t hesitate. “Of course. He’s the best thing that ever happened in my life.”

Her stomach growled again, and she picked up her fork. They ate in silence for a while.

“I went for it, you know,” Walter said.

“Went for what?” Hannah said, putting down her cutlery. The sound of heavy silver hitting china reverberated off the walls of the stark white kitchen.

“The one great love.”

Hannah leaned back in her chair, sensing a story was coming. “I’m sure you think I’m a shit. I cheated on my wife with my se
cretary, had a child I lied about. Now I’m
that
old guy, one foot in the grave, trying to make amends.”

What was she going to say? She hadn’t walked in his shoes. But she did think he was kind of a shit.

“I love Elaine. I want you to know that. I love Abbe and Benji with all my heart. All three of them are the best things that ever happened to me. But when I was about your age, I got the itch. They called it a mid-life crisis back then. I didn’t get a cherry car or a lot of gold jewelry. But I had some of the feelings that you probably had. I wondered if I’d done the right thing. You’ve met Elaine. She’s a whirlwind. She almost single-handedly raised the kids, researched and edited my work, volunteered for the temple. That woman kept my life together, but she wasn’t the sizzle.

“Then I met Minnie. She was the sizzle in the steak. That woman got me. She was a terrible secretary. Couldn’t alphabetize her way out of a paper sack. But she got
me
. Instead of organizing my shirts, my kids, my papers—she asked me about who I wanted to be.”

“But why did you marry Elaine, then? Why didn’t you wait?”

“Who waited in those days? She got pregnant. Marriage is what was expected. People weren’t holding out until their thirties or forties waiting for their one true love. It wasn’t the idealistic fifties, but the realistic seventies.”

“Is that fair to Elaine?”

“Probably not. Look, I’m going to level with you. I married her because she would make a good wife. Did make a great wife. Does make a great wife. Minnie, though, was the love of my life. When you pass seventy, you get a lot of perspective. If I had to do it all over again. I’d have held out for the love of my life.”

Hannah was taken aback. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen that coming a mile away.

“I understand why you did what you did. Not saying it was the right way to go about things. But I
get
it. I honestly don’t know if Benjamin will ever forgive you. He’s always been hard on people who don’t live up to his high moral standards. But don’t give up on him. I think he’s your Minnie.”

Walter didn’t have to tell her that the conversation they had could never leave that room. But knowing this about Ben’s father, made her love Ben a little more. When Abbe came bustling into the room looking for a late night snack, asking what they had been discussing, another lie rolled off her tongue. Hannah vowed to make it her last.

“We were talking about what a great cook your mom is. Would you like some pie?”

***

After getting out of the compact rental car, Hannah found herself standing in front of her own house late Monday morning. She rang the doorbell. The chimes’ eight notes echoed off the walls. She waited a minute and rang the bell again. Relief flooded through her. Michael wasn’t home. She slid her key into the door and entered. The plan was to get the rest of her stuff, move it to storage, and move on with her life. Whether Ben ever took her back or not, Michael had to be out of her life. The stunt he’d pulled in Davis was needlessly cruel. She would never forgive him.

Before Hannah entered the bedroom to get the rest of her clothes, she made a beeline for her office. Her MacBook was in Shelter Cove, but Michael’s work laptop was in the top desk drawer. If he hadn’t taken it to work, she wondered where he was today. No matter. She opened the lid, and typed
LOVEHANNAH into the small square box. Gratified that the password was still the same, she opened his browser. Hannah scrolled through his bookmarks until she found what she needed.