Angels in the Snow (18 page)

It was devastating to admit that he didn't know how his own family saw the world, or what they wanted from it. He didn't know the people he lived with and loved and spoke to every day of his life.

In Alex he'd only seen a rebellious teenager; he'd missed the poet.

He'd seen a picture-perfect wife who made him look good. But he'd missed the woman who wanted something more from her life than being a shiny mirror for her husband.

He thought he knew what Alex wanted now. If he just let up a little and accepted that the boy was serious about his music, he was certain things would improve between them.

As for Jennifer, he'd have to prove to her that he could handle the important matters, too. He'd spend more time with her, and eventually it would happen.

But he didn't have any idea what Judith wanted.

He peered sidelong at his wife as she took Josie onto her lap and let the child teach her a clapping game. He hadn't attempted to talk to her about their differences since the Walkers had arrived. Perhaps it was cowardice on his part, but he couldn't put it off any longer. Tonight, once they went up to bed, they would talk. He would wait for her, no matter how she sought to avoid him. He'd suggest that the kids sleep downstairs tonight. Then he and Judith would pin down the problem and begin to work out a solution. He was
not
going to lose her. Not when he realized how desperately he loved and needed her.

J
udith frowned, trying to remember which gift was in which box. The green paisley box was an “America Rocks” T-shirt for Alex, but would it be too big for Robbie? And which package held the DVDs of
Frozen
and
Everlasting
? They'd be perfect for Lucy. Then she hesitated. Did the Walkers have a DVD player?

She sighed and slumped down on the bed, a crease forming across her brow.

“What's wrong?”

She jumped in surprise at Charles's voice. “Oh. I was . . . I was trying to pick which gifts to give the Walker children. Marilyn and I discussed some of the items, but I forgot to ask her if they had a DVD player.”

Charles moved across the chilly room toward the fireplace, and held his hands out to the flames. “I heard Josie say something about being too old to watch her
Sesame Street
DVDs anymore, so they must. I don't think they're quite so out of touch with modern life as I first thought.” He turned to look at her, a rueful expression on his face. “To tell the truth, they're a pretty nice family.”

Judith quirked a brow at him. “Yes, they are.”

“But you're surprised I admit it,” Charles finished her thought for her.

“Well . . .” Judith sighed. “I suppose that's true. You didn't seem too pleased to have them here. And it's obvious Joe sometimes rubs you the wrong way.”

“Yeah. Well, he's kind of patronizing at times. He's way too smug, considering—” He broke off. But Judith knew what he'd been about to say.

“Considering that he's an itinerant artist who can't make much more than a ditchdigger—minimum wage. Right?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Yes, but you thought it.”

To her surprise, he didn't argue. “Sometimes I judge people by standards that are too . . . Well, the wrong standards for them.”

Judith stared at him, more surprised than ever. “Yes,” she slowly agreed. “Sometimes you do.”

“Anyway, I'm actually kind of glad they ended up on our doorstep.” He looked at her as if he were waiting for her reaction.

He was going to give it his all, she realized. He was going to be humble, apologetic, and sincere tonight. In short, the hard sell. Charles was a masterful salesman. That's what made him such a good real estate developer. He let Doug handle most of the construction side of the work, while he handled the personalities involved—the politicians and bankers, unions and neighborhood groups. He could sell flour to a wheat farmer, and now he was planning to sell her on the idea that he could change.

She lifted her chin a notch, and a bitter smile thinned her lips. “I'm glad they came, too. They've been good for Jennifer and Alex.”

“They've been good for me, too, Jude. I mean, everything is so Christmasy now. The tree, the caroling. If they hadn't been here, I'm not so sure we could have created the same feelings. I
know
we couldn't have.”

He shifted, and Judith realized that he was actually uneasy. She stared at him harder. Charles was never uneasy when he was selling an idea. She'd heard him say a thousand times that you had to be truly excited about something to be able to effectively sell someone else on it. Your enthusiasm couldn't be faked.

But he was uneasy now, and she wasn't sure what that meant. She reached for a large box wrapped in red paper with a huge green bow and shook it. If he wanted to cut to the heart of the matter, so be it. “You're probably right,” she replied slowly. “You and I would have had a difficult time creating the illusion of happiness and family warmth that comes so naturally to the Walkers.”

She met his eyes and saw the pain in them. It took all her willpower not to crumple in the face of it, for she didn't want to hurt him. She was just tired of always being second to M.G., Inc. She wanted to be first with someone. And if it couldn't be with him, then it would have to be with herself. She wanted to be happy. If that meant they had to be apart, then she was ready to make that move.

There was an awkward silence. Charles shifted his weight once more. “We used to be able to do that—to create that happiness in our own family. I . . . I think it's something we could learn to do again. If we both try,” he added.

Judith steeled herself against the rush of feelings his emotion-filled words created. She forced herself to be cool and analytical. “I think that our concepts of trying are vastly different. You do all the things you think a good husband and father should do. We live well. But . . .” Her composure slipped despite her best efforts to remain calm. “But I find myself more and more dissatisfied with it.”

“But why?” he interrupted, beginning to grow angry. “What do you want from me—” He broke off suddenly, and drew back as his face went pale. “Is it . . . is it someone else?”

Judith couldn't hide her shock. “No! How can you even think such a ridiculous thing?” She stood up and began to pace as her own anger surfaced. “How very like you to assume such a thing! You can't conceive of any flaw in your own behavior, so you look for something despicable in mine!”

“Judith, I didn't mean—”

“Oh yes, you did! In fact, you'd probably like it a lot better if I
had
carried on with some other man. Then you'd be absolved of any fault. You could be the innocent one, the injured one!”

She drew a shuddering breath and turned an accusing face on him. “The disloyalty is
yours
, Charles. The infidelity.”

“Never, Judith! I swear! Not once in all these years—”

Her laugh was the saddest, most miserable sound she'd ever made. “Every day, Charles. You and your business. You and the cell phone that you keep beside you day and night, most of the time hooked onto your head like some . . . some robotic extension of yourself. It's 24/7—no stopping, ever. The bigger you get, the bigger you need to be. The more successful you become, the harder you go at it. If M.G., Inc., was a woman, I'd have a hell of a lot better chance of getting you back. But M.G., Inc., is a disease. And you're terminal.
We're
terminal.”

The silence was awful. Judith's pulse roared in her ears. She thought insanely of that poor rabbit lying in the box, gasping out her last breath. Dying silently, though everyone wanted her to live.

That's what she was feeling now. No matter how much they all wanted it to live, their marriage was dying. It was gasping out its last breath in a cold bedroom in the middle of a blizzard. By morning it would be dead.

She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and stared at Charles. His face was white, his disbelief plain.

He shook his head. “You're wrong. You're
wrong
. You mean far more to me than the company. How can you think you don't? I won't deny that I spend a lot of time working. I . . . I guess I'm a workaholic. But if I'd known you felt this way—”

“What would you have done? Scaled back? Abandoned the new hotel project?” She gave him a bitter smile. “That hotel is what you've been aiming at for years. The pinnacle. But when it's done, what will you do next? Something that will prove you even more successful, and make you even richer. You could quit your job today, and we'd never lack anything if we scaled back our lifestyle to a reasonable level. We'd never lack food, or shelter. Not anything.

“But you'd be miserable if you quit working. Meanwhile, I'm miserable if you continue.” She tried desperately to regain some composure. “So where does that leave us?”

His brows had begun to lower as she talked. Outrage and denial had clearly replaced his initial shock. “We're not terminal, dammit! The whole point of this trip is to mend the rifts in our marriage, but you have been determined from the outset not even to give us a chance. My God, Judith, haven't the past two days proven my point? We
can
be happy together—”

“With someone forcing us to be!” she interrupted. “With the phones out, and no way for you to work.”

She knew she'd scored with that, for he ran his hand distractedly through his hair as he groped for a response.

“Okay. Okay. I work too much. I can change that. I
can
,” he repeated in the face of her skeptical expression.

“It's more than that, Charles. That's just a symptom, not the whole problem. You need a constant challenge to be happy. You need to struggle and win to feel complete. And I . . .” She swallowed and shook her head.

“You married me knowing I was that way. That's what attracted you in the beginning.”

“Yes, I know it did. And I know you think I'm being terribly unfair now.”

“
Selfish
is the word,” he accused. “What about Alex and Jennifer? What are you going to tell them? Mommy doesn't like living in a big house and having so many privileges and luxuries. So she's decided to divorce Daddy. Is that what you're going to tell them?”

Judith stiffened. “I'm going to tell them that I can't fit into the role you want me to play. And I know that Alex will certainly understand
that.”

To her surprise, that seemed to affect him more than anything else she'd said. He seemed to shrink as the anger fled him. She watched as he crossed to the bed and slowly lowered himself to sit on it. When he stared up at her, his face was stripped of all pretense and protective emotions. She saw pain and fear in his eyes, and it sent a shiver of fear through her. For a brief, insightful moment, she recognized how much she'd always relied on his strength. His confidence and enthusiasm had always carried her along, and she'd been willing to take that ride. But now he was the vulnerable one, and she was strong.

Was it fair of her to abandon him now just because she finally had the ability to do so?

Judith sat down, too. She'd thought Charles the dominant partner in their relationship, the one who made the big decisions. The one whose needs and goals set the pattern for their marriage. She hadn't even recognized her own dissatisfaction until the past few years. But now, as he sat here before her at his most vulnerable, she realized that she did wield a certain power.

He'd never wielded his power with the intention of hurting her. How could she wield hers any less generously?

She reached over and placed her hand upon his. “I know all this seems terrible. It's not part of the future you've always envisioned for us. But you will survive this, Charles. You'll see. We'll both be better people for it. Better parents, too.”

His hand turned over beneath hers and his fingers slipped between hers. Palm to palm, they held hands.

“I'll never survive,” he whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I'll never survive. I wouldn't want to.”

He gathered her into an awkward embrace, and for a long trembling moment they clung together.

And there was comfort in his arms. The comfort of familiarity. The comfort of knowing you were loved. And there was the familiar response deep inside her, the part that had always loved his touch. His kiss.

He was kissing her now—her hair, her ear, her cheek—and a small voice in her head told her to pull away. But she couldn't. Charles needed her. And she needed him, too. At least right now, she did. As for tomorrow . . .

She turned her face up to his, aware that her cheeks were wet with both his tears and her own.

“Judith, Judith. You can't leave me . . .” His embrace became desperate, and as they met in a shattering kiss, she feared he was right.