Breath of Malice(6)
Ginny was a petite blonde with a mass of curls she kept short and stylish. She set the spatula on a plate on the counter, then wiped her hands on the apron she wore over pressed jeans and a frilly blouse. She crouched to greet their son.
Jonah threw his arms around his mother. “Dad and me had the best weekend ever!”
Ginny hugged him back just as tightly and smiled. “A ball game on Saturday and the zoo yesterday; I’m sure you did. Now be a little monkey and get washed up for breakfast. The school bus will be here in fifteen minutes.”
“’Kay.”
Jonah ran back to Sam, who was still standing in the doorway, and raised his small fist for a bump. Sam tapped his son’s hand.
“See ya, Dad!”
Jonah spun around and raced through the swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the living room. An instant later, his footsteps pounded on the stairs. Sam heard the creak of the middle step. Ginny hadn’t had that loose tread repaired. She hadn’t changed much about the house since they’d divorced. Not that Sam had noticed anyway. But there’d been one change, a big change, if Sam was understanding things right from Jonah. A change named Herb. Sam’s mouth tightened with the thought.
Ginny retrieved the spatula and scooped the pancakes onto a plate ready and waiting on the counter. “Thanks for taking him for the weekend.”
Though Sam knew Ginny didn’t mean to piss him off, her comment rubbed him the wrong way. Yeah, he was feeling raw today. His jaw tensed. “He’s my son. You don’t need to thank me for spending time with him.”
Ginny rubbed one palm down the front of her jeans, then looked away. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”
Sam knew she hated even the smallest confrontations, and the hurt look on her face made him feel as if he’d kicked a kitten, a feeling he remembered well from their marriage. Even things he’d considered inconsequential, like declining her homemade dessert after dinner, could hurt Ginny. He’d spent most of their marriage apologizing for one thing or another.
Ginny was a good mother, had been a good wife. She and Sam just hadn’t been good together.
“See you next weekend,” Ginny said.
Sam had been a weekend father for a long time, but Ginny pointing it out today rankled. Sam stepped all the way into the kitchen, closing the door behind him, and asked the question that had brought him into the house in the first place. “Who is Herb?”
Ginny’s big blue eyes widened. “Herb Foster.” She rubbed a hand up and down her throat. “He’s our pharmacist. You remember him?”
When Sam moved out of this house and to another part of Kirk County, he’d stopped going to the pharmacy he’d frequented when he’d lived here. He searched his memory and came up with a visual of Herb Foster. Midthirties, like Sam. Lanky. Light-brown hair, balding at the hairline. “Jonah said Herb took him to the science fair and a few other places recently.”
Ginny licked her lips. “Herb’s been spending a great deal of time with Jonah lately.”
Sam leveled his gaze on her. “Jonah cares a lot about Herb. He mentioned him several times this weekend.”
“Yes, he does, and I can tell you Herb’s crazy about Jonah.”
Sam frowned. He knew he had no right to ask, but asked anyway. “Is it serious with you and Herb?”
Ginny smiled and her cheeks went pink. “We’re talking about getting married.”
Sam’s frown deepened.
“This is what I want, Sam,” Ginny said softly. “What I need. Herb is uncomplicated and steady. There are no surprises with him. I know where he is at all times of the day, and if for some reason he needs to leave the pharmacy, he calls me to let me know where he’ll be. Herb’s not going to get called out in the middle of the night to go somewhere or to do something that he can’t talk about when he gets home and that I do not want to know about.”
Ginny shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle, shielding herself against what Sam knew were painful memories from their marriage. She had not been able to live with the demands of Sam’s job or understand why he would want to do what he did. In the end, that had been the deathblow to their dying marriage.
“Herb makes me happy.” She went on. “Please don’t make this difficult for me.”
Again, he felt as if he’d wronged her. He softened his tone and exhaled a deep breath. “I don’t want to make anything difficult for you. I’m happy for you. I want you to be happy.” And he did, but this wasn’t just about Ginny. “I may not be your husband anymore, Gin, but I’m still Jonah’s father. I won’t let him forget that.”