Worth the Drive

Published by
Mara Jacobs

Copyright 2012
Mara Jacobs

Cover design by
Kim Killion

Formatting by
www.formatting4U.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at
[email protected]
. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For more information on the author and
her
works, please see
http://www.marajacobs.com/

ISBN:
978-0-9852586-1-0

Prologue

We were happily married for eight months.

Unfortunately, we were married for four and a half years.

– Nick Faldo, professional golfer

“I’m not sure I
ever
loved you.”

Wow. She hadn’t seen that one coming.

Still, Katie
Lipton
supposed, if you’re stupid enough to ask the question, “Don’t you love me anymore?” you ought to be prepared for the answer. Wh
atever it turned out to be. But
she couldn’t believe the words coming out of Ron’s mouth.

She watched as he stood in the bedroom and continued to pack his suitcase. Like picking at a scab, she couldn’t stop herself from pursuing his comment. “What do you mean you never loved me? What were the last seventeen years, then – a crush?”

“Don’t, Katie. Don’t do this to yourself. It’s over.” His look for her was patronizing, filled with false empathy. She wanted to put her fist through his Greek god face. Make his incredible good looks bloodied and bruised, to match her heart.

Her best friend Alison would have done it. Wound up and cold-cocked him right
th
ere, right now. Not caring if he bled all over their cream carpeting or their cream comforter in their cream-colored bedroom. Or she would hurt him with the words that wouldn’t come to Katie. Alison’s quick wit and razor-sharp mouth would bring Ron down to size. But Katie wasn’t Alison.

Her other best friend, Lizzie,
would
probably
have
seen this coming months ago and had some kind of plan for when the moment arrived. Or, she’d diffuse the situation with her calming, soothing nature. But Katie wasn’t Lizzie either.

While Alison’s smarts and Lizzie’s shining personality would have been so useful now, Katie’s incredible beauty - what s
he
was known for - did her no good in this situation. All she could do was sit on the bed, stunned, and watch as her boyfriend of four years, husband of thirteen, packed his tee shirts and boxers into the his of their his-and-hers matching luggage.

“Ron, if this is about the baby…” her voice trailed off. What? What could she say? Promise not to mention the baby again? Promise to abandon her dream of becoming a mother? Could she do that? If it meant keeping Ron,
would
she do that?

“See, Katie, you even say ‘the’ baby, not ‘a’ baby, as if one ever existed.
” His voice was harsh. “There i
s no baby, Katie. There never was a baby
. There will never be a baby.” He paused.
“Not for us, anyway.”

There was something in his voice
as he made the last comment
. Something cutting and mean. Katie had come to recognize that tone. It had been so foreign just a few years ago, when his voice had always conveyed his love for her. “What do you mean, ‘not for us, anyway’?”

“It means no baby for
us
, Katie. Just like I said.”

Don’t do it. Don’t ask. Don’t jump at his baiting voice.
But she couldn’t help herself. “Is there a ‘but’ at the end of that?” she asked.

Obviously he’d been dying to get to this, knowing she would lead him there eventually.

“Yes, there is a but. There will be no baby for us, Katie, but,” he dragged the word out, emphasizing every letter, “there will be a baby for me. In five months to be exact.”

She wanted to double over, the pain was so great. Her breath totally left her body. But some small shred of dignity made her sit still, not even flinching. In the back of her mind she wondered what hurt more, the knowledge that Ron had betrayed her or the thought that yet another woman would have a child and she would not.

Ron seemed disappointed that she hadn’t crumbled, and that gave her a little bit of strength. Enough to say, “And just who is the mother of your child?”

He turned his back to her, going to a drawer in the dresser and taking out all of his socks. Socks she had bought for him. Socks she had washed. Socks she had picked up off this bedroom floor more times than she could remember.

“Amber Saari,” he said.

Katie couldn’t hide her shock this time as a small gasp escaped her. “Amber Saari? She’s a child herself. She’s one of your students.”

“Was. Was one of my students. She’s twenty,” he said, hurt and indignant. Like how dare she believe he’d ever have anything to do with one of his students at the high school. Oh no, he’d wait until they were out for two years before sleeping with them. A man of honor, her Ron.

“If I recall correctly, she was something of a tramp when she was in the high school. Are you even sure the baby’s yours?
”
She couldn’t believe she was being so calm when every muscle in her body ached to throw something at him. She was just afraid that she’d throw herself at him. Whether to claw his eyes out or beg for mercy, she wasn’t sure. That thought kept her perched on the bed.

He looked at her as if she were
crazy. “Of course the baby’s mine.”

“Oh, I see.
You
were the only one who
was unfaithful
.”

“Katie, let’s not do this,” he said. But
it seemed that’s
exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted her to lose it, to become the shrieking fishwife he apparently had made her out to be. It would justify his walking
out on her. It would then be he
who left because of her obsession with having a baby, her instability, her shrewish behavior. When in fact, he just didn’t want to be with her anymore. He wanted to be with a twenty-year-old former student named Amber.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You’re right, Ron, let’s not do this.” She sat up straight on the bed as he zipped
up the suitcase. She summoned
every prideful gene she possessed and waited for him to leave. To leave her and their home.

To leave her alone for the first time in her life.

He stopped and looked at her, surprised by her tone and composure. His gaze raked across her face. “Jesus, you’re beautif
ul, Katie.
”
His voice was soft and
tender, and for a moment it reminded her of the Ron she had fallen in love with. The Ron who had pursued her relentlessly their freshman year at Michigan State. The Ron who was the most handsome man at the enormous university, who had wooed her and caught her with that same soft, tender voice he was using now.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered and reached out to touch her face.

She winced, not sure if it was from the prospect of his touch or his language, which he knew she hated. Either way, her flinch broke whatever spell her splendor had just woven over him and he stepped back, dropping his hand.

“You keep the house. I’ll keep the Hummer. The rest we can figure out later.”

He set his sealed suitcase on the floor, stacked the smaller bag he’d packed earlier on top of it, and pulled up the handle, wheeling them both out of the room behind him.

Funny, the thoughts that go through your head, she mused. Here her husband had just walked out on her and all she was thinking was that it would have been so much more manly, so much more dramatic, if he’d picked both bags up by the handles and walked out instead of wheeling the bags behind him like a flight attendant traveling through an airport.

After she heard the front door close and the roar of that monstrosity leaving the driveway, Katie rolled over onto the bed, her knees to her chest, pulling one corner of the comforter over her. She finally let the pain of the knife he’d plunged into her heart wash over her.

Her husband had left her for some young t
ramp
he’d knocked up.

Katie Maki Lipton. Known as the prettiest girl to ever come out of Hancock High
.
The most stunning woman in the Copper Country. They said she was a true original. A unique beauty.

And she was now nothing more than a bad cliché.

Chapter
One

Give me golf clubs, fresh air, and a beautiful partner and

you can keep my golf clubs and the fresh air.

-Jack Benny

“You’re right.
I am glad you talked me into this, but six a.m.?” Katie said through a yawn. She secured her long hair into a ponytail and put a Michigan State baseball cap on, pulling her hair out through the back opening of the hat.

“I know. Sorry. But this guy’s tee time is
7:10
and I want to make sure he sees that I’m there not only
to
watch him tee off, but
to
hit some balls first, too,” Lizzie said.

They had set their hotel alarm for five to make sure they had time to shower, dress, and get to the course before six-thirty. Precious moments
Katie would
like to have back so she could have slept on. Getting good sleep had become so hard lately.

“Besides, they
flip-
flop tee times on Thursdays and Fridays, so he’ll play in the afternoon tomorrow and you can sleep as late as you want,” Lizzie said, trying to placate Katie.

They parked their rental car ridiculously close to the country club door – Lizzie had some kind of pilfered VIP parking pass – and put on sunscreen. Back home, in the Copper Country
of Michigan
, the
May
sun was neither hot nor abundant enough to elicit a need for the protection. But here in Texas, the heat was already hanging in the air, threatening to be stifling by mid-afternoon. Bring it on, Katie thought, as she covered every inch of her fair, Finnish skin with SPF forty-five. She dared the sun to sink into her soul, to thaw the chill in her bones that had taken up residence since Ron left and the long, Upper Peninsula winter began.

Katie followed Lizzie behind the clubhouse. Lizzie seemed to know where she was going, although it was her first time here as well. Blooming flowers in glorious colors bordered the walkway to the driving range. Katie was astounded by the many different shades of green that adorned the golf course and its surrounding foliage.