Chapter 17
Seventeen
“ W hat’s going on out there?” Grace asked as the door closed behind her, and she put her nose in the air, sniffing the cinnamon scent appreciatively.
“These are warm, fresh from the oven. You can help yourself right here,” Lauren said, pointing to the cinnamon rolls she had taken from the oven just five minutes prior.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Grace said, coming over and grabbing a cinnamon roll as Lauren put a plate in front of her.
“Oh boy, these smell so good. And they’re so warm and gooey.
You are a danger to my figure.” But that didn’t stop her from picking up the fork that Lauren had set on the plate and digging into her cinnamon roll.
“Coffee?” Lauren asked.
“Please. And answer my question. What in the world?”
“My husband is putting in a security system.” She still couldn’t quite believe it.
He had had his foreman, the man whom she assumed he had left in charge whenever he left, drive the whole way out here, and now he, the one who usually ran the business, and his foreman George, the one who ran it anytime he absolutely had to be away, like for her mother’s funeral, were both out here.
Whatever job they were working on, he had pulled George off it, ordered a security system, and gotten it here in less than twenty-four hours.
She had worked in the business enough to know that he was basically pushing off his other jobs and making this job a priority.
This job, that didn’t pay anything, that wasn’t nearly as important as some of the six- and seven-figure jobs he had, and yet… he was acting like it was urgent.
“So… I think he might care about you just a little bit,” Grace said slowly.
“I know. I feel so guilty. I—” She came over and stood in front of Grace, lowering her voice and leaning forward just a bit.
“I almost made him sleep in his truck last night. I did give him supper, but it was just spaghetti. He doesn’t like spaghetti.
And if I do have to serve spaghetti, he prefers meat with it.
So it was just spaghetti and a piece of garlic bread made out of the cheese bread I made yesterday.
Not his favorite. And then, he went to sleep in his truck.
And I did all of that, without knowing that he had already ordered the security system and was planning on getting it and putting it in today. ”
“Oh my goodness. You made your husband sleep in his truck last night?” Grace looked aghast, although she was obviously trying to hide it.
“No. I went out at midnight, because I just felt so stinking guilty. I told him he could come in and sleep on the couch.”
“Okay. So you left him out there until midnight, and then you told him he could come in and sleep on the couch?”
“Yes. I am a terrible person, aren’t I?” She felt terrible.
She had felt justified in what she thought were her perfectly normal grievances, legitimate grievances.
And yet, her husband was being so nice, so…
protective, and, at the same time, not angry at her, but seeming to try to figure out what he could do to make things better.
He wasn’t blaming her, and he wasn’t railing at her for not just talking to him instead of leaving.
Because she kind of felt like that was probably all she needed to do.
Just tell him that she wanted to sit down and talk to him, and he would have.
He would listen to her. They would have worked it out, and she wouldn’t have needed to leave.
“I don’t think you’re a terrible person.
You are hurting. You’re hurting because of the miscarriages.
You are hurting because of losing your mom.
And I don’t know that you can necessarily use it as an excuse.
But maybe your pain and grief just precluded your ability to think rationally for a little bit. ”
“It’s funny, because I thought I was thinking very rationally.
In fact, I would have said that I absolutely had thought it through, looked at all the different angles, and made the best decision.
But the more time I spend here, and the more time I spend with him, I think I was wrong. I think I was very, very wrong.”
She looked at her husband, who was pointing at something and talking to George. She thought they would have it done by noon at the rate they were going.
“Everybody’s entitled to be wrong.”
“But I left him! I mean that’s not just wrong, that’s exceptionally, horribly, stupidly wrong.”
“He doesn’t look like he’s going to hold it against you. In fact, far from holding it against you, it looks to me like he’s helping you. Would he be putting in a security system if he was expecting you to move back to Cincinnati?”
That was a rational question she hadn’t considered.
“Do you think that he’s given up on getting me back?
” She hadn’t expected him to come after her at all, and now she was surprised at how quickly she had gone from not expecting him to come after her, to expecting him to fight for her, to now being scared to death that he was just going to let her go.
“I highly doubt it. But he’s obviously showing how much he cares about you.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I hate to eat and run, but I have to go to Bible study. I actually was dropping by to see if you wanted to come.”
“I was planning on coming, but I’m not going to leave with my husband here.”
“Totally understandable, and I think that’s the best decision. I’ll stop by later, if I get a little free time.”
“All right. Thanks. Good to see you,” she said, feeling bad that they’d spent their whole time together talking about her and her problems. She should have been more considerate and asked her friend about herself.
But she supposed when someone was going through something, friends made allowances for them to be extra preoccupied with themselves.
She hoped she did that anyway.
It looked like it was going to be a little while, she thought as she gathered up Grace’s dirty plate and fork and her empty coffee cup and washed them.
She dried them and put them away, and then she grabbed the scraps she’d set aside the day before and went to the back door.
She’d set some food out earlier, and it was gone.
The dog must have been getting more used to her, because it stood by the peach grove, its tail slowly going back and forth.
“Are you hungry, honey?” she asked, walking down to the bottom step, setting scraps of food down, and then coming back up and sitting at the top step.
The dog was shaggy and gaunt with its hip bones sticking out and shoulder blades clearly visible along with each of its ribs.
But it had a bit of a distended belly, and that’s what made her think it was pregnant.
Hopefully the puppies weren’t all born dead. That would be sad. She’d had enough sadness for a while. Surely God wouldn’t send her a stray dog, that was pregnant, no less, and then have all the puppies die in her care.
Not that this was really in her care. Maybe she could go get dog food later today. She should have done that when she first saw the dog, rather than grabbing scraps and using those. The dog could use balanced nutrition.
“I’m sorry. Maybe that’s why I don’t have a baby of my own. I’m not very good at taking care of things. I have a tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions and go running off when I shouldn’t.”
She didn’t really have a tendency to do that. This was the first time in their marriage that she had, but she’d been harboring these resentments for a while now.
As she spoke, the dog continued to stand there wagging its tail .
“Come on, honey. I won’t hurt you. And you don’t have rabies. You’re just really hungry.”
Maybe the dog had gotten lost or had accidentally jumped in someone’s car that was just driving through.
Maybe someone had realized it was pregnant and dropped it off.
Whatever its story was, it seemed like it had been a long while since it had had someone regularly feeding it.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll try to get you more food later. Although, too much at one time will probably make you sick. And that won’t help you at all either, will it?”
The dog started coming closer, slowly.
Its eyes were sweet, its head down, its tail still swaying slightly back and forth.
But its whole body was focused on the food on the step. The poor thing was starving.
She wasn’t quite sure what kind of dog it was.
Probably a mix of a bunch of different breeds, but she thought she saw a little bit of golden retriever in it.
That’s probably where the long shaggy hair came from.
But the white collar around its neck and the white paws…
She wasn’t sure. She didn’t really know of any dogs that looked like that.
Those were more like horse markings. At least the white feet.
“Come on, sweetheart. If you eat that, I’ll see if I can find something else for you in a bit.”
She tried to remember how many eggs she had in the refrigerator.
She had been going to offer to cook some for Cannon this morning, so she hadn’t even opened the refrigerator to get anything for herself.
She thought she had two or three left. Cannon would need at least two and more if she didn’t have anything to go along with it.
But there was a little bit of bacon in the refrigerator as well.
So she could give a whole egg, and maybe two, to the dog.
Still, it would be better to get some dog food.
By that time, the dog had walked almost the whole way over and was now in a crouch, slinking forward, its eyes on the food. Lauren sat as still as she could.
“Lauren!” a voice said at the same time the door opened. The dog spun around and fled away. Lauren turned, her husband standing behind her, anger on his face but also worry and concern. “What are you doing? That dog looks like a mangy old thing that has a million diseases.”
“She’s pregnant and hungry. She almost came to me. That was the closest she’d ever gotten.” She stood, knowing that the dog wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon. She was angry with her husband for scaring it away.
But her anger was tempered by the fact that she knew he was trying to protect her, and with her newfound knowledge, she was assuming that that meant that he was showing that he loved her. Even if he was irritating her rather than making her feel loved.
He took a breath, blowing it out and shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I just saw that dog out there, it looked rough, and you were so close to it, and I… I wanted to scare it away. I was worried about you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the fact that you were worried.” She didn’t appreciate the fact that he had scared the dog away, but there would be another time for the dog to come, and she’d leave the food there.
“I just came in to tell you that we have another hour, and then we’re going to be finished. George is going to have to go, but I wanted to know if you wanted to go to a restaurant and eat brunch?”
When was the last time they’d gone out to eat together? Maybe when her mom was sick and they’d had to run an errand and he had gotten home late and she was still up… It was still more than a year ago.
Because he couldn’t take off work.
“Sure. I actually wanted to go down to Blueberry Beach and grab a bag of dog food. She needs more balanced nutrition than what I have for her. It probably wouldn’t hurt for me to grab some groceries too.”
“If groceries mean that you’re going to be making more of your delicious baked goods, like your cheese bread yesterday, and your cinnamon rolls today, I am all about groceries.
” He looked a little sheepish. “I hope those cinnamon rolls on the counter were for anyone to eat, because I just ate two. And George might have had one too.”
“Yeah. I actually thought you would prefer eggs, but I didn’t want to take you from your work. ”
“You’re right. I would prefer eggs, but those cinnamon rolls will hold me over until we go to eat in an hour, if you’re sure that’s okay?”
“Yeah. It sounds great.”
Did she just agree to go on a date with her husband? Did the date include grocery shopping? She supposed that’s how a person knew they were married, when something like grocery shopping constituted a date.
“All right. I… I’m sorry again about the dog, but… I would feel safer if I was around if you’re going to try to pet it or anything.”
“I won’t try to pet it now. I’ll come in and tidy up a bit, and get ready to go. I’ll make a list of the things I need.”
“All right. We’ll plan to pull out in an hour, unless something comes up.” Her husband stopped as he held his hand on the door, getting ready to open it for her. “Never mind. We’ll get ready to go in an hour, no matter what comes up. How’s that?”
“If something comes up, it’s okay. I… I get it.”
“I guess I’m just not very good at this, but I want to try.”
“Okay.”
She wasn’t sure what he was trying or what his plans were. Maybe that was something they could talk about over brunch.
With that, he opened the door, and she walked in ahead of him.