His Ordinary Life (9 page)

His words sent a frisson of awareness through Barbara’s body. The sharp aroma of chlorine clung to him, merging with his clean, male scent. His heat warmed her back and she drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to spin and pull him closer, so close nothing could ever get between them again.

“I mean it, Barb.” He seemed to sigh the words, his breath a caress against her neck. “I want a second chance but it has to be your choice. What you want.”

She wanted
him
. He barely touched her, his hand on her shoulder, the other on the door in front of her face, but she could feel him, all over. Warmth radiated from him, wrapping around her, tingling through her, making her feel as if she could come apart right here, simply from being close to him. Desire tickled her abdomen, traveled lower and settled into a familiar throb between her legs.

He could assuage that pulsing, fill the emptiness. Sensations and images flashed through her mind, a montage of old memories and new fantasies. All she had to do was reach behind her, lay her hands on his thighs, and she’d set off a chain reaction of passion and desire. Her palms itched.

“Barb?” His nose bumped her ear in a soft caress, whether by accident or design she had no clue. The cold splash of a droplet on her neck made her jump.

She closed her eyes, dragging in oxygen through her mouth so she wouldn’t smell him. Curling her hands into fists, she forced herself to concentrate on his words.

I want you back. I want a second chance.

Yes. I want that, too.
The words trembled on her lips, but she swallowed them. “No. We can’t.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulder and he turned her round. Dipping his head, he stared into her eyes, his expression intent. “Why not?”

“Because.” She wouldn’t reach for him, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“That’s not a reason.”

She stared into dark, devilish eyes, the embodiment of every temptation she’d ever faced. That grin and those eyes were the very reason she’d never been able to tell him no. “We have three reasons sleeping in that house.”

He rested both hands on the door, trapping her between the wood and his body. “Three reasons to try again, you mean.”

“No.” Ignoring the pull of his gaze, she shook her head. “Do you know what it would do to them if we tried and failed? They’d be devastated.”

“Then we’d have to make sure we succeeded.” He shifted an arm, leaned closer, took her breath. His words whispered over her ear, sending shivers out along her nerve endings. “There’s our incentive to try harder and make it work.”

“It’s not a good idea.” She hoped the protest sounded stronger to him than it did to her.

“Barbara. Stop making excuses.” If possible, he leaned in even further, his mouth a heartbeat away from hers. “A chance, that’s all I’m asking for. One chance.”

He was so sincere, so intent, and she
wanted
to give him that chance with a fervor that frightened her. “We can’t do that to our children, Del. If they saw us together and we couldn’t make it work…”

“We’ll make it work.” He shifted his weight, one of his thighs brushing against hers, making her skin burn. “But they don’t have to know yet. We can keep it between us until we know for sure.”

Temptation hovered before her. All she had to do was reach out for it, but giving in to temptation always carried a price and she wasn’t sure she could afford this price tag. “What if—”

He laid a long finger against her lips, stopping the words. “Do you think I’d do anything to hurt them?” he asked. “To hurt you?”

But he already had. Even though the circumstances hadn’t been what she thought, the knowledge didn’t change the facts. He
had
left them. Her children
had
suffered because of his leaving.

Shaking her head, she fumbled for the doorknob. It turned under her trembling fingers, and she backed into the kitchen. “I can’t,” she whispered, avoiding the pull of his dark gaze. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

Still not looking at him, she fled for her room. This time, he let her go.

Del pulled into the only empty spot outside the Chandler County courthouse. The sheriff’s department occupied an ancient building behind the white marble courthouse, but it looked better now than it had in ages. Since Stanton Reed’s appointment as sheriff, he and Tick had done more than clean out the corruption in the department. Necessary modernization of the ramshackle jail continued.

The humid heat left a fine layer of perspiration on his skin. Del jogged up the concrete steps and pushed his hair away from his forehead. He really needed to stop by the barbershop while he was downtown. An unwilling smile tugged at his mouth. In the early days of his marriage, when they hadn’t had the extra five bucks for a cut, Barbara had routinely trimmed his hair. The first time he’d felt Blake move within her womb, she’d been leaning over him, trying to trim above his ears, her rounded stomach bumping his arm.

He shrugged off the sweet remembrance, but couldn’t shed the melancholy as easily. All morning, while he’d watched the bustle of her household, the kids yelling and jostling for the bathroom, Barbara making sure things ran smoothly, all of them piling out of the house and into her 4-Runner, her “I can’t” echoed in his head. He’d failed again, and his newborn hope lay like dust and ashes in his mouth.

When he opened the door with its painted six-point star, a soothing wave of cool air washed over him. An odor of scorched coffee and old building mixed with the sharper scents of new paint and fresh wood. The woman typing at the front desk looked up, a wide smile of recognition brightening her thin face.

“Well, my Lord,” she said, rising to come around the desk and engulf him in a strong hug. “Del Calvert, it’s been so long.”

“Hey, Miss Lydia.” Surrounded by the smell of gardenias and Pond’s Cold Cream, Del returned her hug and stepped back to kiss her wrinkled cheek. “How are you? Still teaching Sunday School?”

“I am. You should come Sunday.” She patted his arm. “Oh, it is
so
good to see you.”

“You, too.” He glanced down the empty hallway. “Is Tick around?”

“In his office.” She smiled and pointed toward a tiny room, door closed, down the hall. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He needs to eat and get some rest. Looks like he’s going to blow away.”

“He’s always worked hard, Miss Lydia. You know that.”

Lydia fixed him with a look. “Working hard and working to death are two different things, Delbert. He’s even stopped showing up at church with your mama. Now what does that tell you?”

That something was seriously wrong. “I’ll talk to him.” Lord, that’s all he seemed to be doing lately—talking. To Blake, to Barbara. Maybe he’d have better luck with his brother.

Once more, she patted his arm. “You should come home more often.”

Home
. He didn’t have one anymore, not really. Before the depression could get a good hold on him, he slanted a smile at Lydia and circled the desk to knock on Tick’s door.

“It’s open.” Tick looked up as Del stepped into the office. A welcoming grin lit his face. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Del glanced around the small room, dominated by a scarred metal desk. A mounted largemouth bass hung on the wall next to Tick’s FBI award. On the bookshelf, family photos shared space with training manuals.

“Pull up a chair.” Tick laid aside the folder he was perusing. “What brings you by?”

Del shrugged. He wasn’t sure himself why he was here. “Nowhere else to go, I guess. You care if I crash at your place for a few days?”

Tick raised an eyebrow. “Wore out your welcome with Barb?”

“Yeah.” Besides, he couldn’t stand to stay there, surrounded by the ordinary life that wasn’t his any longer. “I’ll be in and out, because of Blake, but it would be best if I sleep somewhere else.”

“Sure.” Tick cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the open folder. “I’ve got plenty of room. Door’s always open.”

Del studied him. He seemed even leaner than the day before, his eyes exhausted in his gaunt face. “Did you eat this morning?”

Tick’s answering grunt was irritable. “Yeah.”

“Coffee and a cigarette don’t count.”

“How about three cups of coffee, a half a doughnut and two cigarettes?”

“Only two?”

“All right. Five.”

“You know how many days each cigarette takes off your life?”

“You sound like an insurance salesman.” A tight grimace quirked at Tick’s mouth. “Believe me, Tori has the whole nagging-me-about-my-smoking job covered. You can lay off.”

“Miss Lydia says you’ve stopped going to church with Mama.”

Tick groaned. “And Mama thinks I should take a vacation. Chuck wants me to have a physical. Even Barb wants to get in on the act, trying to—” He bit the words off, and they stared at each other a moment, the old jealousy stirring under Del’s skin. “Mississippi was bad, all right? I’m trying to deal and I’ll be fine if everyone will just leave me the hell alone for a little while.”

That sounded like Blake. “You know, if you really want to be left alone, I can stay at Mama’s.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Tick waved in a dismissive gesture. “I’m tired of everyone riding me about how much weight I’ve lost, how worn-out I look. I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself.”

“Fine.” Del nodded and held up his hands. “I promise not to comment on your health while I’m at your place.”

“Thank the Lord for small favors,” Tick muttered.

“But if you need an ear…” Del let the offer trail away.

With an arched brow, Tick rubbed at his mouth. “Sharing confidences has never been our thing, Delbert.”

“Yeah.” Del slumped in the chair and stared over Tick’s shoulder. On the second shelf was a faded snapshot of the four of them—Tick, Del, Will and Chuck—on the beach at Panacea, their father in the background, his expression suffused with paternal pride. “Wonder why that is?”

Tick shrugged. “You know that whole needing an ear thing goes both ways, right?”

Del cut a skeptical look at him. “Right.”

Silence hovered over them for several long moments. Tick cleared this throat. “What happened, Del?”

“You know, I keep asking that question and damned if I can get a straight answer.” At Tick’s steady gaze, he sighed and rubbed at his thigh. “I tried to get her to take me back. She said no.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I thought…” Del shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now what I thought.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Hell if I know. I don’t have a clue where to start. There’s…there’s all this stuff I believed about us, you know? And now I don’t know what’s true, what’s not. I’m still trying to figure out where I went wrong with her.”

“Ever think maybe it’s not about you?”

Frowning, Del looked at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tick fiddled with the die cast tractor he used as a paperweight. “You tend to take on blame that’s not yours, Del.”

Annoyance flickered along his nerves. “You’re saying it’s Barb’s fault?”

“I’m not saying it’s anybody’s fault. I’m saying you get lost in the guilt and don’t see the big picture.”

“The big picture is I lived with her for sixteen years and missed all the warning signs that my marriage was falling apart.”

“So it’s all you, right? What you did wrong.”

“Damn it, Tick—”

“Takes two to make a marriage, Del. And a divorce.”

“I’m beginning to remember why sharing confidences isn’t our thing.” Del shifted in his chair.

“Because getting you to let go of an idea is like convincing a snapper turtle to turn loose.” Tick shook his head, his expression rueful. “Daddy always said you were more stubborn than I was in a lot of ways.”

“Yeah.”

“Just think about what I said, Del.” Tick flipped the folder closed and looked up with a half-hearted grin. “I tell you what—come with me to Rotary and I’ll buy you lunch.”

“And listen to all the politics and bellyaching? No, thanks.” With a small laugh, he stood. “I might not be over until late.”

“No problem.” Tick pulled his keys from his pocket and removed an extra house key, sliding it across the desk. He tugged a smaller key from the ring. “Here, take the boat key, too.”

Frowning, Del pocketed both keys. “Why the boat?”

“Take Blake fishing.”

“Yeah. He’s grounded, remember?”

“Get him out on the lake and he can’t go anywhere,” Tick said. “He’d have to listen to you. Think about that.”

“All right, tonight you read the last two chapters of
1984
and you know you’ll have a quiz tomorrow,” Barbara said, leaning against the table at the front of her classroom. The clock ticked closer to 3:22 and her last-period students shifted and fidgeted. With seconds to go before the final bell, she took pity on them. “Y’all pack up.”

Chatter erupted in the room. Desks squeaked on the tile floor. Barbara gathered her grade book and the homework papers she’d collected and walked to her desk. Sunlight streamed through the corner window, the late day angle of the rays laying a sharp déjà vu on her. A lifetime ago, she’d watched sun at just that angle striking Del’s dark hair, casting light and shadows on his face.

The bell rang, and the voices grew louder, merging with the cacophony in the hallway. Her room quieted with the students’ exit and Barbara sank into her chair with a sigh, glad her lunch duty meant she didn’t have after-school hall duty. An ache pulsed at her temples, as it had done all day. With it, Del’s words had pounded in her brain at the oddest times, making it hard to concentrate.

I want you back
.

No, he wanted the old Barbara, his old life. He didn’t know her, the woman she felt she was becoming now, so how could he want her? She glanced toward the window once more, almost able to see the two of them sitting there, younger, warmed by sunlight and new love. With difficulty, she pulled her gaze from the window and rubbed at her temples. That was over. She’d done the right thing by turning him away.

Then why did she feel like falling apart?

“Rough day?” Brian Rawling’s sympathetic voice brought her head up.

She forced a smile. “It’s a week before final exams and my last period already thinks school is over.”

“That’s normal,” Brian said with a laugh. He perched a hip on a student desk in the back row and folded his arms over his chest. “Luckily, some of us are blessed with last-period planning.”

“Rub it in.” She laced her fingers in her lap and wondered how quickly she could get rid of him, then felt guilty for thinking it. He was a nice guy, they had a lot in common, and he liked her. He just wasn’t Del. Would she spend the rest of her life comparing every man to him and finding all of them lacking?

“I’m driving down to Valdosta State this weekend to see their production of
King Lear
. Would you like to go?”

“I’m sorry, Brian, but this just isn’t a good time. I need to be at home.”

He nodded with a tight smile. “Another time, maybe. Did you get the memo about—”

“Ms. Calvert, could I…oh, I’m sorry.” Mason Monroe, one of her second-period seniors, hovered in the doorway.

Grateful for his presence, Barbara waved him in. “That’s all right, Mason. What do you need?”

Mason darted a look at Brian. “My makeup work for Tuesday and Wednesday?”

Brian straightened with a grimace. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” She rose and went to the makeup folders she kept for each class. Mason handed her his pink absentee slip and she accepted it with a smile. She eyed his still-pale face. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Mama says it was probably just a virus. I should be able to play in Friday night’s exhibition game.” Mason stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced around the room. “So why did Blake drop off the team?”

Barbara noted his assignments on the makeup page and stapled the absentee slip to it. “He wanted to run cross country in the fall and didn’t think he could do both and keep his grades up.”

“Too bad. He was a good player. We could really use him.” He accepted the papers, grinning. “Maybe next year, huh?”

“Maybe.”

Lord only knew what next year would bring. At this point, she wasn’t sure what her son would be doing in the next five minutes. Barbara forced a smile. She liked Mason. He was bright, personable, as good a student as he was an athlete. Everything Blake had been until recently.

She walked with Mason to the door, briefly reviewing what he needed to do. He rolled the paper into a tube and stuck it in his pocket. “I’ll get this to you by Monday. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.” Shoes squeaked on the polished floor and she glanced down the hall. Blake approached, eyes on his feet, his shoulders slumped. He looked up as he neared her, his eyes blank. Blake stopped, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Hey, Blake.” Mason gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. “Missed you at football practice.”

“Yeah,” Blake said, a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice. “You, too.”

“Later, man. Thanks again, Ms. Calvert.” Mason headed down the hall with a wave.

“Bye, Mason,” Barbara called after him. She looked at Blake. He stared at his feet, looking tired and pale, and an urge to wrap him in her arms surged through her. She knew from recent and painful experience he would only pull away. She settled for brushing his hair away from his forehead. “We need to get you a haircut.”

He shook his head, the bangs falling into his eyes again. “It’s fine.”

Crossing her arms and cupping her elbows, she leaned against the cool cement block wall. “I’ve got to stop at the grocery store after we pick up your sisters. What do you think about grabbing takeout for supper?”

He slanted her a look under his lashes. “Is Daddy going to be at the house?”

Another minefield to negotiate. She took a deep breath, choosing her words with care. “I’m not sure. He may eat with your Uncle Tick.”

If possible, he hunched lower. He rubbed at his side. “He’s leaving again, isn’t he?”

More than anything, that quiet statement, phrased as a question, told her she’d done the right thing by refusing to get involved with Del. Things could so easily fall apart between them once more, and she wouldn’t put their children through that hell again.

“He isn’t going back to Atlanta yet,” she said, “but he’s going to stay at Tick’s. I’m sure he’s tired of sleeping on our couch.”

A shrug was Blake’s only reply, and the frustrated fear rose again. When would they be able to get through to him?

Behind her more footsteps squeaked on the floor and she saw Blake’s face brighten. Without turning, she knew who approached, and she steeled herself to face those dark, compelling eyes. She pasted on a cheerful smile as Del joined them. “We were just talking about you.”

His eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he grinned at Blake. “Let’s go fishing.”

Surprise flickered across Blake’s face, followed by a flash of excitement. “Really?”

“I’ve got Tick’s boat hooked up and ready to go.”

Barbara stared at him. Was he insane? All their agreed-upon rules and punishments out the window, followed by an offer of a lazy afternoon of fishing.

“Blake,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, “do me a favor. Take the box of notebooks by my desk out to the truck, please. The hatch is unlocked.”

He opened his mouth and she expected a protest, but he closed it again. Glancing between them, he shrugged, his face downcast and jaw tight. “Sure.”

Staring at Del and tapping one foot, she waited the long minutes it took for Blake to get the box and disappear around the corner. When his footsteps had faded, she turned on Del. “What are you thinking?
Fishing
? He’s on restriction.”

Del’s brows lowered. “I know that.”

“Then why are you rewarding him by taking him fishing?”

“It was Tick’s idea.”

Barbara threw her hands heavenward. “Why am I not surprised? That man would fish—”

“Barb, listen. I need to talk to him, need to get him to open up to me. And if we’re in the middle of the lake, he can’t walk off on me.”

“Don’t you think you’re sending him the wrong message?”

He pushed his hair off his forehead in a tight, frustrated gesture. “I’m not lifting any of the other punishments. I just want to spend some time with my son. I won’t, though, if you really don’t want us to go.”

She started to tell him again it wasn’t a good idea. The memory of the need and joy flashing across Blake’s face stopped her. In a twisted male way, the idea made sense. Maybe it would work.

She sighed. “Go.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but I’m desperate.”

Her weak attempt at humor earned her the sweet reward of one of his rare smiles. “It’ll work. You’ll see.” He reached out to squeeze her arm and leaned in, the easy way he’d always done before brushing a kiss over her cheek.

She tensed, watched awareness enter his eyes. He froze, staring at her, then dropped his hand and straightened with a harsh laugh. “I’m sorry.” His hand made a pass over his outer thigh. “Habit. Wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s fine.” Amazed at her ability to sound calm when she yearned for even that brief touch of his lips, she straightened her thin sweater. “What time can I expect him home?”

“Before dark. Tell the girls I’ll do something special with them this weekend.”

“I will. Are you staying for supper?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you?”

“Of course. The kids love having you around.”

His sharp look accused her of lying. “Lyssa likes having me around. Blake is focused on whatever is going on in his head, and Anna…Anna doesn’t like me much right now.”

“Your daughter loves you.”

He chuckled, a low, rough sound. “I love my big brother, too, but that doesn’t mean I like him all the time.”

“Parenthood isn’t a popularity contest, you know.”

“More like a freakin’ battlefield.” He pushed his hair back again. “I’m gonna take off, then. See you later.”

“Okay. Y’all be careful.”