THE AFFAIR (22 page)

Larry stood knocking softly on the door. He knew without a doubt Mick was awake, just as he knew there was no way in hell she was going to let him make love to her now.

He looked around his home in dismay. They’d only been gone a few hours. How had two kids managed to totally destroy every room in their home in that amount of time? Why had his daughter allowed it?

He thought for a moment of her sparkling home in Arizona and he cringed. He knew he needed to tell his daughter that she’d crossed the line. But all it took from her was watery eyes and he couldn’t scold her.

He walked back to his own bedroom, his hunger for his wife a deep ache within his soul. He had not touched her in three months. He had not caressed her creamy flesh, or felt himself buried deep within her. And now he was left with a painful erection the size of Montana.

If only he hadn’t spent the last two hours cleaning up the mess his grandchildren made, maybe Mick would have let him in. He groaned at his lie. The time wasn’t the issue.

It was his not leaving with her. He was hoping the somewhat cleaned house would soften Mick in the morning. If she woke and looked at the mess in the kitchen and bathroom he didn’t doubt that she would toss Erica and the kids out on their butts. So he’d cleaned when all he wanted to do was make love to his wife.

He slid beneath the covers thinking of all the wasted time. He’d given Mick the cold shoulder to force her to give in. She hated his silence. For twenty-six years that had worked. Now she fought against it. He knew it bothered her, but not enough to make her come back to their bed, to his arms.

He thought about the party, how beautiful she’d looked, how right she’d felt in his arms. He thought about the kisses they’d shared. His erection swelled until he found himself rubbing his own flesh, thinking of his wife.

She should be here with him now, lying beside him, her head on his belly or his on hers. She should be in his arms, touching him, loving him. She’d said she still loved him. Larry shut his eyes tightly, the urge to cry fighting with the need for physical release.

He’d blown it once again. This time he didn’t need his wife to point it out to him. He wasn’t completely dense. If only he could tell her the real reason he always gave in to the kids.

Larry stopped his self manipulation. His hand was not what he wanted. He was disgusted with himself. Mick had almost hit on the truth he’d kept hidden from her. That little kid that he tried to keep buried kept turning up at the oddest moments.

That crack Mick had made about him being better off without his mother had hurt. When he ran out the house, he’d gotten a hotel room and stayed there until he could face her again. He knew she thought he was angry but that wasn’t what drove him away or kept him away for three days.

It was having to admit to the weakness. He hated the fact that just the mention of his mother could still cut him like a sword. He was a lawyer, for God’s sake. A damn good one at that. He was in his forties, too damn old to carry around the baggage from an abandoned runny-nosed five-year-old kid.

He hated that the memory haunted him and had the power to drop him to his knees. Mick had suggested several times through the years that he get counseling for it. He could never do that. She would think he was weak. No, damn it, she would know he was weak.

He liked that she looked up to him, that she respected him. He didn’t want her feeling sorry for him. Hell, what kind of man would he be if the only emotion his wife felt for him was pity? No, he had to remain strong for her. How would she ever look to him for protection if she saw him fall apart?

So he’d gone to the hotel and he’d stayed there until he felt he could safely return home. When he saw her, all he’d wanted to do was fall in her arms and cry, have her hold him and comfort him. He couldn’t do that. He had to be strong for her. All that he did and had done for the last twenty-six years was for her, for her and the kids.

He thought a moment about the kids. He wished he had told Mick of his own promises. There in the car, when she said she thought he’d used her to get the family he wanted, he could have told her, but he didn’t.

The day they’d married he’d promised himself and her that he would love her forever. When Erica was born he remembered whispering in her ear that he would never leave her, never make her feel the pain of abandonment. Never would he ever want her to go through the emotional hell he’d been forced to endure.

With each child he’d promised the same thing. He would have loved to have more kids, but he’d gotten the vasectomy.

Mick had no idea how hard that had been for him to do. He’d never told Mick, because he loved her. He didn’t want her worrying about him. It was his job to worry about her.

When the kids starting giving them grandchildren, some of that hurt of not being able to have more babies went away. He made the same promise to them as he had to his own kids. He would never abandon them.

His promise to love Mick forever? Hell, that one was easy. He loved her with every breath he took. It was that second promise that caused him the problems. He was no more happy with his daughter’s behavior than his wife was. He just didn’t know how to discipline her and not make her feel abandoned.

He’d never been any good at discipline with any of the kids. He loved them so damn much it hurt at times. Mick had no way of knowing that there were plenty of times he wanted to yell at them to go away, but the image of that five-year-old haunted him and he couldn’t do it.

When he saw his trashed home, he had almost sent them away, until Mindy wound her arms around his neck and pleaded with him not to leave. He’d fought against the image of the little boy tugging on his mother’s skirt crying,
“Don’t leave me, Mommy, I’ll be good.”

Now he was in bed alone, wishing he had some remedy that would banish that memory from him forever.

The only thing that gave him a semblance of peace was that Mick had told him she still loved him. Yeah, she was angry now and hurt.

That was preferable to her losing respect for him. That he couldn’t handle. Just knowing she hadn’t stopped loving him gave him the strength to stay in bed and not break down her door.

She would come to him. It would take time, but she would come. He fell asleep hoping Erica’s visit would be short. Maybe after she left he’d take Mick on a getaway.
Just a few more days. She doesn’t need to know that I can’t make that little boy go away.

I woke a little after six. I groaned from the weariness I was beginning to feel. For a time last night I had been Michelle.

And Larry, Larry had once again been the handsome boy I’d married. In fact my husband was even more handsome than the day we’d married. His dark brown hair was thick and soft. I loved it and I loved the huge dimples in his cheeks when he smiled down at me. My stomach twisted thinking of the many things I loved about my husband. I’d been so sure he’d heard me at last. Then the daughter from hell had shown up on our doorstep, unannounced.

From shortly after Erica’s birth we had been like oil and water. I think after awhile she even preferred a bottle to my breasts. I sighed with the forgotten memory that it hadn’t always been like that. Initially Erica had been as happy to accept breastfeeding from me as I was to have her suckle at my breasts. My baby, my firstborn. The memory was fleeting but it was there. I’d been happy with my new baby. What had happened to change that? I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was.

Larry said we had the same temperament. If that were true Larry and I would have been divorced ages ago. Erica was not passive, not like me. She spoke up for what she wanted, demanding more than her fair share. I’d often wondered how Roy could stand her.

Larry’s refusal to stand up to her angered and puzzled me. I had been married to the man for twenty-six years. Of course I knew the baggage he carried. How many times had I attempted to get him to confront his pain?

I knew deep in my gut his unwillingness to punish the children, even with a mild scolding, had to do with his mother.

My attempts through the years to get him to acknowledge this had met with stony resistance. The mere mention of her and his eyes would fill with pain.

If I ever met the woman I swore I would strangle her with my bare hands. Of course she’d probably be in a nursing home by now, preventing me from carrying out my plans. She’d inflicted scars on my husband that I had been unable to heal. I knew firsthand that pain doesn’t go away with time.

When thoughts of Chance flitted across my mind, I pushed them away. My decision was made. I felt the ache begin in my heart. I knew how easy it would be to succumb to wanting him. He fulfilled things in me that I had not known I needed.

Enough,
I reprimanded myself.
You can’t think of him, not when you’re this angry at Larry.

I slipped out of the bed, my thoughts turning instead to the medium, Blaine MaDia.

I could see him again
, I thought.
Seeing him would not take anything away from Larry. And I didn’t give my word not to see him.

The moment I opened the door a loosely formed thought turned into a concrete idea. Erica’s things scattered about told me that I would spend my morning out of the house. Hopefully, I could find enough to do to keep me away until bedtime.

I felt like a thief sneaking down the hall to the shower, running the water at half force, not wanting anyone to wake up. It wasn’t out of concern for them, but because there was not a one of them that I wanted to see.

I would make coffee, only enough for myself. I couldn’t help smiling at the rebellious thought, knowing that I wouldn’t follow though.

The smell of soap followed me out of the bathroom, to be replaced by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. Larry was awake. God forbid that it would be Erica who would be thoughtful enough to start the coffee. I headed for the kitchen. I might as well get it over with.

I glanced at Larry sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands, waiting for me. I took a cup, turning to the counter determined to block him from my view.

“Mick, do you really want to start the silence all over again?” he asked. There was not a trace of sarcasm in his voice. I turned toward him. I didn’t want to live in silence. He knew that.

“You were supposed to be my husband. You should have demanded Erica clean up the mess she allowed her kids to make. You should have gone with me to a hotel, any hotel. You should have been a man.”

I was trying so hard not to cry. I saw the glint of anger come into his eyes as he squared his jaw and stared at me. He was right to be angry. I regretted the words the moment they came from my mouth.

“Are you saying I’m not a man?”

“I’m saying you sure as hell didn’t act like one last night.”

I wanted to stop saying things to my husband that I didn’t mean, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I knew Larry’s problems came from his childhood. I knew his mother was to blame. But I was angry also. I wanted to push him into admitting the truth, if not to me then at least to himself.

He had a menacing look in his eyes. “I’ve been a man to you for over a quarter of a century. Now what? You get bored with our life and blame me. You find a lover and now I’m not a man.”

“I’m sorry, Larry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But you did. Maybe that’s what you really think of me. Is it, Mick?”

His voice was the controlled steel he used in the courtroom, yet he was unable to mask the pain my words had caused him. I had gone much farther than I wanted or had ever intended to go.

“No. I’m angry with you. I only said it… Oh, forget it. I didn’t mean it.”

“I can’t forget it that easily. Why did you say it?”

I decided to stop the escalation of our argument before it became even more hurtful. “Last night was wonderful.” I stopped. “Before we came home, that is. I wanted so much for us to be together to make love. I wanted to fall asleep in your arms and wake in them. I’ve missed you.”

“Then you should have opened the door.”

I stood looking at my husband, my eyes rolled to the top of my head, shaking my head back and forth.

“I don’t believe it. You really don’t hear me, do you? What’s wrong with you, Larry? Why did we have to even come in the house? Why did you let Erica talk you into letting her come here? You know she and I don’t get along. Why pretend?”

“Let’s get something straight, Mick. You’re the one who had the affair, not me. Erica came to help out. I don’t think you have any right to talk to me the way you are.”

I shook my head while glaring at him. “I thought you were finally getting it.” I laughed. It was a harsh, brutal sound to my ears. “What I did had nothing to do with sex. It had everything to do with my getting my needs met for a change.”