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Authors: Terra Little

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BOOK: Running From Mercy
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“Paris, I . . .” He trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say or of how to say it. This was another topic that they discussed often, but he wasn't in the mood to tackle the issue right now.
“What, Chad?” She looked around for her towel and snatched it off a nearby rod. “Do you realize I could probably count on one hand the number of times we've made love? And that includes our wedding night and the night you rolled over, calling out for . . .”
He cut her off tersely, his eyes going from blank to hard in seconds. A hand went up to push her words back. “Don't,” he snapped. “I've apologized for that a hundred times, and I wish you wouldn't keep throwing it in my face.”
Paris came toward him and he stepped back to let her pass. Belatedly, he realized that she had intended to initiate some sort of embrace and, still, he didn't attempt to right his fumble. He stood there staring at her, hating himself for causing the pain in her eyes, but unable to prevent it.
He was the first to look away, dropping his head and massaging the bridge of his nose as he retraced his steps to the bed and sat down heavily. She went over to the closet and stood in front of the open door, visually choosing her outfit for the day.
“Are you seeing someone else?”
Chad's head shot up. He was expecting to find her hovering over him, ready to do battle, but she hadn't moved from her place in front of the closet, hadn't turned to face him. “No,” he sighed. The lie was like a bad taste at the back of his throat. “Are you?”
“I've gone out to lunch with Ben Nolan a few times, but nothing more than that.”
He searched his mind for information about Ben Nolan and eventually came up with what he knew. He was an older man, average looking and nice enough, as far as Chad could tell from the one time he'd had occasion to cross his path. He remembered being introduced to Nolan at the home's annual Christmas party, remembered shaking his hand and making casual conversation. Nolan was in an upper level social services position and part of his duties included making the trip to Mercy several times a year to inspect the children's home where Paris worked.
He sat there and waited for anger and jealousy to come and when neither of those feelings surfaced, he sighed again. This time loudly.
“He's asked me out, too,” Paris added. She decided to bypass skirts all together and pulled a pair of slacks and a blouse from the closet.
“Do you want to go?” She threw him an “are you serious” look before bending down to grab a pair of heels from the closet floor. “I just meant . . .”
“Do you
want
me to go, Chad?” He didn't answer, and she grew tired of standing there waiting. When she was certain he didn't intend to look at her or to address the question, she left him in the bedroom and went to shower.
Paris was dressed and standing at the dresser, rifling through her jewelry box in search of an illusive earring when Chad spoke next. Across the room, his head was bent to the task of sliding a belt through the loops of his slacks. He called her name and she looked up and locked eyes with him in the mirror, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Nolan seems like a decent guy,” he said.
Though they had discussed many of the issues living within their marriage, Chad's decision to set up a separate bedroom down the hall from Paris's bedroom was never discussed. It was something that happened gradually, until all of his belongings were transferred and he was firmly ensconced there.
Ironically enough, it was Nikki who had unwittingly started the process. She was five when she caught the chicken pox from one of her kindergarten classmates and was sent home to wait the illness out. Her insistence on scratching ferociously sent Chad to another room to sleep, so Nikki could sleep with Paris and Paris could keep an eye on her through the night. A little at a time, his things were transported down the hall until there was nothing left of his in Paris's room. After Nikki returned to school, Chad saw no reason to move back.
“You want a divorce?” Paris asked him once as they were working in the backyard. He'd gone to a conference in Atlanta the week before and brought back a sapling. He and Nikki were planting it on the side of the backyard Paris hadn't laid claim to for her flowers and he'd just sent Nikki inside to bring him a glass of water when Paris approached him. She stood over him, blocking the sun from his eyes, with dirt-caked gardening gloves on her hands and a wide brimmed straw hat on her head.
Chad propped an arm on his bent knee and met her gaze straight on. “If we get a divorce, I take Nikki.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head. “That's not an option. I had her when you came along and I'll still have her if you decide to leave.”
“She's my daughter, Paris.”
“You wouldn't even know that if it wasn't for me.”
“You're right. But still . . . I'm not leaving her, so you can forget that. Is this about Nolan? Are things getting serious between you two?”
“Ben has nothing to do with this. I asked you if you wanted a divorce.”
“You brought it up, so I think it's you who wants one. Am I right?” He eyed her curiously, then shot a glance toward the house to make sure Nikki was still inside.
“It's either that or keep on doing what we're doing. Putting on a charade for Nikki, who realizes that we have separate rooms by the way, and smiling like idiots for the town.” She dropped down on her haunches and stared at him. “How long can we keep this up?”
“You want to marry Nolan?”
She thought about it and shook her head. “Not really, no. I care about him, but I don't love him. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said and meant it. Then, “Are you being discreet?”
“You know we are.”
“And he treats you well? Because if he isn't, I'll break his neck. You know that, right?”
Despite the hurt squeezing her heart, Paris smiled. “Yes, I know.”
Chad looked deeply into her eyes for several seconds. “If a divorce is really what you want, then I won't fight you for it. But I will fight you for Nikki. I feel like shit for saying that, but it's the truth, Paris. I don't want us to have to go there with each other.”
“I don't either.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Chad saw Nikki tipping across the yard balancing an overfilled glass in her hands. She brought the glass to him, splashed water on his leg, and shimmied her way onto his lap, all at once. He bent an arm around her tiny waist and pushed his nose into the silky hair at the crown of her head, inhaling deeply. Then he looked at Paris over the rim of his glass as he drank. His eyes spoke to her and she read them loud and clear. She nodded slowly and rose to go back to her flowers.
Another night he went to her room after Nikki was asleep and stretched out next to her on the bed. She was snuggled under the covers watching television and he fit a pillow under his head and settled down to join her. He lay on top of the covers, with his feet crossed at the ankles and his hands folded over his abdomen. Three sets of commercials came and went, the show she was watching went off and another one came on before he spoke.
“You remember when all of us used to sit around Nate's house watching television when we were kids?”
Paris giggled at the memory. “Nate's mother would have to run us out of her front room with a broomstick. Those were the best times.”
“The best,” he agreed.
“You and Pam always spent the whole time arguing about silly things. I think that's really the reason we kept getting put out. All that arguing got on Miss Merlene's nerves.”
“Got on my nerves, too. I don't know why I let her get under my skin like she did.”
She picked up the remote and surfed through the channels. “I do and Nate did, too. We pretty much figured you two were sneaking around behind our backs and breaking the code of the foursome.”
His head rolled around on the pillow and he looked at her. “Word around town is that she was running around with Nate.”
“That was the cover story. Me and Nate knew the real story, and even if we didn't, Nikki is proof enough.”
“Pam told you?” He was genuinely surprised. He'd never told anyone about his time with Pam, and she always said she hadn't either.
“No, she didn't tell me. I sneaked and read her diary one time and saw it for myself. She told me she wasn't a virgin anymore, but she wouldn't tell me anything else. I had to invade her privacy to get all the juicy details.” She glanced at him and returned her attention to the television. “
Sex in the City
reruns or
Law and Order
reruns?”
“
Law and Order
. She put all the juicy details in her diary?”
“She was seventeen, Chad. That's what seventeen-year-olds do.”
It occurred to him then that Paris wasn't as informed as he first thought. He reached up and scratched his head, thinking. “And you think she lost her virginity when she was seventeen?”
Seeing the shit-eating grin on Chad's face had Paris's eyes widening. She took a hand from under the covers and pushed at his shoulder. “Before that?”
He pretended to be concentrating on the television screen and said nothing.
“When?”
“Way before then, and that's all I'm going to say.” He had a thought. “We really shouldn't be gossiping about this, anyway. Is this awkward for you? Because I'm starting to feel a little twitchy myself.”
“Too late for that. Come on, tell me.”
“It's none of your business. It's between me and Pam.”
“I told you all kinds of stuff when we were kids.” She was indignant. “I told you stuff I didn't even tell Pam!”
“Like what?”
“Like about the time with Rick Moony out at Truman Field. And the time I helped Mike Robins steal his mother's car and we almost got caught.”
Chad waved his hand negligently, a lopsided grin on his face. “Rick Moony was a punk, so that doesn't count. And you
did
tell Pam because she told
me
about it not too long after
you
told me about it. Plus, riding in the passenger seat
does not
constitute helping someone steal a car.”
“Oh, come on, Chad!”
He unlaced his fingers and turned his palms toward the ceiling. “Okay, okay, but you have to promise not to tell Pam I told you. It's old news, but at the time it was a secret.”
“Okay.”
“She had just turned fourteen and I was about to be sixteen.”
“But she didn't get pregnant with Nikki until she was eighteen . . .” Paris's voice trailed off as the implications of what he'd said sank in. “I'll kill her for not telling me.”
“You just promised not to say anything.”
She sat with a thunderstruck expression for a few seconds. “So you guys were . . .”
“Pretty serious for a while.”
“For how long?”
“Pretty much from the day we met up until the day she got on that bus and rode off into the sunset.”
“Exclusive?”
“Damn right.”
“I can't believe she never told me. All that time and she never said a word, the sneaky little bitch,” Paris hissed. There was no heat in her voice, but disbelief and hurt were strong. “We told each other everything.”
“It was a big thing for us to wrap our minds around at the time. Neither of us knew what to do with what we were doing, except to keep doing it.” He interpreted the expression on Paris's face and laid a hand on hers. “We both knew we were way too young to be doing what we were doing, but we couldn't seem to stop.”
“You were in love with each other.”
Chad looked at his wife a long time. He was nodding his head when his mouth opened. “I was, anyway.”
“She hurt you badly when she left.”
“A little bit, yeah, but finding out about Nikki crushed me.”
“That's why you married me, so you could have Nikki?” She tried to slide her hand from under his, but he wouldn't let her.
“I saw you caring for Nikki and doing what I felt Pam should've been doing and I cared too much about you to let you keep doing it on your own. Plus, I had a responsibility toward Nikki, even if Pam didn't think so. Finding out that Nikki was my child only made me love you more than I already did.”
“But not like you loved Pam.” She would've snatched her hand away if he hadn't tightened his hold and refused to release her. She thought she had a clear understanding of what everything had been about and it galled her.
Silently, they watched three consecutive episodes of
Law and Order
with his hand still clamped around hers. A fourth episode was coming on when he rolled to his side and made her look at him.
BOOK: Running From Mercy
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