Lily White Lies(20)

He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, drew in a long breath and shook his head as he let it out.

“No, Sugar. It was no accident.”





Six





...I craved something that could put my problems into perspective and—if only for lack of a better remedy—humor came the closest to making me feel sane...





“Hey babe, how was your day?”

Feeling mentally sapped, I gave Brian’s greeting as much enthusiasm as I would to a door-to-door evangelist.

“One for the books, glad it’s over…” Guided by a familiar aroma, I turned my head in the direction of the kitchen. “What’s that I smell? Spaghetti?”

With obvious pride shining in his eyes, he replied, “Close… lasagna.”

I pointed toward him and then toward the kitchen, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Yes,” he replied.

Taking hold of my hand, he led me into the kitchen and picked up the book that sat open on the table.

“See, it’s called, If You Can Read, You Can Cook, and to be perfectly honest, without tasting I think I did alright.”

I glanced around the kitchen and noticed the countertops were clean, the sink was empty and the garbage was gone. I tossed my sweater to the chair closest to me and turned to face him.

“Brian, what brought this on? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but the only things I’ve ever seen you cook are cereal and sandwiches. Why tonight? What’s up?”

He wrung the dishtowel he’d been holding as his gaze fell to the floor. “It’s an edible peace offering.”

The visits with my aunt and grandfather had pushed this morning’s argument to a far corner of my mind. Our differences now seemed trivial, lost among thoughts of the day I’d had.

I shrugged. “Thank you.”

Normally, I would have been impressed, even touched by his sudden desire to please me. Did this dinner represent a new understanding in our relationship? Had he realized that we were equals and that I was capable of making my own decisions? Somehow, I knew getting the answers to my questions would take nothing short of a lengthy discussion and I wasn’t sure I was up for that tonight.

“Meg, we really need to talk.” Smacking the dishtowel across his leg, he said, “Actually, I really need to talk. Please, sit and hear me out.”

I granted his request, keeping my internal objections quieted.

“Babe, I know things have been strained between us lately and I know that the blame is mostly mine. You’ve been under a lot of pressure and I haven’t been doing a whole lot to help you out.” Nodding, he added, “I’m sorry for that.”

In a meager attempt to put an end to the beginning of a serious conversation, I said, “We don’t have to get into this now.”

Brian stood and began to pace aimlessly around the small kitchen.

“Yes, we do. This morning when you said you didn’t want to marry me… well.” He hesitated. “At first I was put out—insulted that you would or could walk away from me.” Squatting in front of me, he took my hands in his. “Then I realized that you didn’t mean it, that they were just empty words brought on by all the pressure you’ve been under lately and…”

I interrupted. “I never said I didn’t want to marry you—exactly.”

“No, not in the exact words, but close enough to cause me to step back and take a better look. Listen Babe, this marriage thing is going to be new for both of us; maybe I’m just going to need a little more time to get used to my role as a husband.”

With a pat on the hand and an abrupt end to the conversation, he stood, walked over to the oven and opened the door to check on his attempt at dinner.

I nodded, but offered no verbal reply to what he had said. Instead, after a few minutes of silence, I chose to steer the conversation to a safe subject.

“So, do you know where your party’s going to be yet?”

He appeared equally relieved at the change in topic.

“At the Blue Taboo. How about yours?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know anything about it yet… oh, other than it’s outside.”

“Outside? That’s taking one hell of a chance this time of year.” Offering a gloating chuckle, he added, “Those male strippers are likely to freeze their sacks off.”

“There won’t be any male strippers.” Thinking about the little bit the girls had told me, I added, “Cory said it’ll be one for the bachelorette party hall-of-fame, so I can only imagine what she has planned.”

If only for a split second, I caught the glare in his eyes and the look of disapproval on his face. Obviously thinking better of his customary verbal attack on Cory, he forced a smile and said, “Well, whatever, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”