Chapter 3 #2
"She has a right to be scared. This is uncharted territory, for both of us, but more so for her." He closed his fingers around her wrists and held on.
"She grew up in a cold environment with a mother who believes it's a sin to go anywhere except church."
"We go to church. We're very religious people, but not fanatics. We believe in the Lord, but that woman takes it too far." She sighed, her anger evaporating. "Invite her to dinner."
"No." Removing her hands from his face, he rose and went to sit on the windowsill. The glass was icy cold, the frosting on the window distorting the view.
"She's not ready. And neither am I."
"Darling..."
"No, mother." He turned back to her. "I have to handle her with kid gloves right now." He shrugged. "I'm in love with her."
He smiled slightly. "For the first time in my life, I'm in love, really in love, heart and soul. I'm scared of losing her. Yes, I'm excited about the pregnancy, but losing her is not an option." He gazed at her. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
She nodded. "I'll be praying for her. And for you too." She rose and crossed over to him. "And whenever you think she's ready, bring her by. She will need the support and we're a family who's always there for each other."
"I know." He hugged her. "And I'm grateful for it."
"Coming?"
"In a minute. I just need to be alone for a little bit."
She touched his cheek gently. "I love you."
"Don't I know it." He smiled at her.
She left him alone and closed the door behind her. Standing there for a few seconds, she tried her best to rearrange her thoughts. Her youngest was hurting, which means she was as well. And could not stop the feeling of resentment going through her.
It should be so simple, she mused, shaking her head as she took the stairs. An elevator had been installed a few years ago, but she liked to get in her steps whenever she could.
She was sixty-five years old and had no intention of getting old. She looked ten years younger and that was as a result of good Irish genes and ruthless discipline of her body.
She and her three daughters would hit the home gym every morning. She was proud to say that she was keeping up with the strenuous and often brutal workouts.
Sweeping her hands over her hips, she stepped into the study where she knew her husband would be holed up with his charts.
"How's he?" He looked up from the documents he was studying as soon as she stepped into the room.
"Sad." She came over to sit on his lap, a loving smile on her lips. He had been the first man for her and the only. One look at him and she never looked at another.
Even after more than forty years of marriage, he still managed to have her heart doing flip-flops. "Retrospective. Scared." She brushed back the sable-brown hair threaded through with gray. "And I want to wrap him up in my arms and soothe away the pain. He's in love with her."
His gray eyes studied her beloved and familiar face. It amazed him that the older she gets, the more beautiful. Her alabaster skin was still mostly unlined, and she never seemed to slow down. He loved her more than his own life.
She had given him four sons. His appreciation of her was second only to his love.
"She's not all bad. She's beautiful."
She scoffed at that. "Typical male. Sees only the outward appearance, never the inside."
He grinned, completely unoffended. "That's the first thing I saw when I looked at you. Your beauty. All that shining blonde hair and your peaches-and-cream complexion. I was in instant lust."
He laughed out loud at the blush staining her cheeks. "And your ability to be flustered even at your age."
"I happen to be very young at heart." She retorted.
"That you are, my sweet." Tipping her chin up, he brushed his lips over hers, thrilled to feel the tremors.
That they could turn each other on at their age was a tremendous blessing, one he hoped and prayed they would never lose.
"It will work out."
"I know it will." She said stoutly. "We're here for him."
*****
She woke with the sun streaming through the drapes and onto her face. And her stomach roiling in hungry protest.
Before she opened her eyes, she knew that he was gone. Squelching the sudden disappointment, she told herself it was for the best.
Last night had felt too comfortable, as if he belonged in her bed.
Easing up on the pillows, she also ignored the lingering scent of his expensive cologne and the warmth he had left behind. She was about to get up when she saw the note in his precise handwriting. Folding the paper in two, she dropped it inside the drawer and made her way to the bathroom.
Peering into the mirror, she grimaced at the sight of her swollen eyes and tangled hair. She had dumped on him. Instead of going away as she expected or told herself she wanted, he had stayed and made her tray.
Turning away, she went to use the toilet and sat there in contemplation. Her childhood had been anything but normal. Her dad had been a deacon in church, and her mother sang on the choir.
The very first thing she noticed when she was a little girl was the regimented household and the fact that her parents never touched each other. They never touched her either.
Public and private displays of emotions had never been encouraged. She had been bewildered when she was shunned when she tried to hug them. And admonished when she cried or complained.
The only constant had been the fact that she had to attend church, that she had to memorize scriptures and prayer was something she dreaded, because it was always long and drawn out.
Her clothing had always been selected for her, long shapeless skirts and dresses, with collars covering her neck and throat.
She had gone through high school without dating or going anywhere. While her friends were going out and having fun, enjoying their childhood, she stayed home, either doing chores or attending church.
The rumors about her dad and the pastor's wife had circulated, causing them to leave the church. Rumors that had been strenuously denied by her parents.
Years later, when she was about to go to college, he was found dead from a sudden heart attack in a sleazy motel room with the same pastor's wife.
From that point on, Leanne decided that it was time to break free from the shackles and live her own life. That men were hypocrites and liars. Her upbringing had colored her thoughts and the way she dealt with people, especially the opposite sex.
She had had one relationship in college. In defiance to her strict upbringing, she had surrendered her virginity to her art professor. The relationship had lasted three months. As soon as he started talking about long-term, she had called it quits.
Rising, she flushed and went to wash her hands. Now she was stuck. Biting off a sigh, she dried her hands and stripped. It was time for a shower.
*****
"You're back." Hiding the surprised pleasure, she watched as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up.
"I said I would in the note." His eyes scanned her face, relieved to see that she looked fresh and alert, the light in her mahogany eyes giving him hope.
"I brought food." He hefted the bag he had put down to take off his jacket. "Soup. Mostly vegetables. My mother made it."
"Oh." She eyed him for a few seconds before turning to go into the kitchen. "I had some breakfast which is staying. Fingers crossed." She lifted the fingers to show him.
"It smells delicious."
"One of her specialties."
"Your mother cooks."
He nudged her onto a bar stool around the small counter and went to take out bowls.
"She's an excellent cook. As well as my sisters-in-law.
" He ladled out the soup and had her mouth watering.
"On Sundays, it's a tradition to give the household staff the day off so they can take over the kitchen.
" He handed her the bowl and a spoon. "It's family time.
From as long as I can remember, that has always been the case. "
"I envy you your family." The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back. Dipping the spoon in, she scooped up some chunks of carrots and celery and blew on it.
"Leanne..."
"It's fine." Forcing a smile, she cursed herself for the comment.
She had also made a vow some years ago, never to feel sorry for herself or allow anyone to either. "This is really good."
"Yeah." He was about to let it go but decided that it was time to stop tiptoeing around. "It's not fine. Look, like it or not, we're in this together and I... I want more than just to stand by and hold your hand. Even when we were dating, you barely spoke about yourself."
"Because it was never an interesting subject and one I would like to drop."
"We have to talk."
"No, we don't. And if you're going to pursue that line of conversation, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
His eyes kindled emerald fire which had her staring at them in fascination.
"No, damn you. You're not pushing me away. I'm not leaving."
"Look..."
"No." He slammed a hand on the counter hard enough to set the bowls dancing and her jolting. "I'm here to stay and I need you to get that through that bloody thick skull of yours. We're in this together and I'm going to be here for you. I'm in love with you."
He smiled grimly at the panicked look that came over her beautiful face and watched her swallowed whatever it is that was lodged in her throat.
"Yeah, that dreaded word. Love. I love you dammit and it doesn't matter what you do or say, that's not going to change. So, deal with it."