"One day," she muttered under her breath as she set the coffeemaker. "One day soon." She'd love to shock Caleb by joining him. He'd never expect that. And he was probably right-she didn't have the kind of sexual confidence it took to approach a man naked and vulnerable, assured that he'd accept, not reject, her silent invitation.Getting the bread out of the pantry, she was struck by the appearance of her hands-the oval nails polished a pale nude color, the tasteful wedding band that was her only jewelry. It seemed to her that she was exactly like her hand-well polished, boring and without character. Not a woman who did exciting things like surprise her husband in the shower.
The scent of Caleb's woodsy aftershave warned her that he'd entered the kitchen. Without thinking about it, she turned and blurted, "Am I boring, Caleb?"
His eyes widened. "You might be a lot of things, honey, but boring isn't one of them."
"Tell me one thing I've done that's been out of the ordinary." She put the bread on the counter and frowned. "One thing I've done that you never expected me to do."
"You asked me for a divorce." He grabbed a couple of slices of bread and put them in the toaster. "Then you told me to go sleep in the guest bedroom-surprised the hell out of me and not in a good way."
She breathed in the just-showered scent of him and wanted nothing more than to pull him down by that sedate navy tie and plant a shockingly raw good-morning kiss on his lips. Caleb had always looked good in a suit. "Hmm," she said, staring at him as he reached up to get mugs from the upper cupboards. "Caleb?"
He put two mugs on the counter. "Yes?"
"Are we going to ignore last night?" She couldn't bear to pretend anymore. It was as if once she'd ripped open this scar she had to keep pushing at it to see how much it hurt, to check if it had healed any.
He faced her, tall, strong and masculine to the core. When she thought he'd speak, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She melted into him, clutching at his waist to keep herself upright. Usually Caleb let her control their kisses, but today he was kissing the thoughts right out of her head.
When they came up for air, his eyes were filled with a thousand emotions. "What do you think?"
Barely able to breathe, she pointed to the toaster. "Your toast's ready."
For some reason, that made him smile. "I made you a piece, too." He buttered the toast and put it to her lips. "You're eating for two now, Mrs. Callaghan."
The unbearably Caleb statement, care wrapped in action, made her smile. And that was how she sent her husband off to work. For the first time in a long while, they laughed as they kissed each other goodbye, looking forward to the night to come.
Once Caleb had left, Vicki went through some catalogues for the university and a nearby technical college. It had come as a rude shock during the separation to realize that without Caleb, she was a woman who did nothing useful, nothing that made her proud. With no client dinners to organize or cocktail parties to attend, no suits to be dry-cleaned, no husband to mess up the pristine house, she'd been slapped with the fact that part of her anger at Caleb came from her own uninspiring existence.Her husband was a dynamo in the legal world, respected by colleagues and competitors alike. And what was she? A finishing school-educated woman of twenty-four. She kept up with Caleb by reading business journals voraciously so she could discuss things he was interested in. But how long would that sustain them? How long until it became clear to him that she had nothing original to contribute to their lives?
But her urge to do more wasn't all about pleasing Caleb. It was about her. Caleb and the baby were her life, her everything. Was that healthy? Would she wake up one day to find her child grown and Caleb buried in work, leaving her alone and adrift? Would she become like her grandmother, convincing herself that jewels and parties could fill the void where her dreams and goals, her self-respect, should have resided?
And what if their marriage failed despite everything? She didn't have a shred of doubt that Caleb would support her and their child, but she wanted to be able to take care of herself, wanted to be more than she was right now. It would have been one thing if she'd chosen to be a homemaker because it was right for her, but she hadn't. She'd just drifted into it because it was what Caleb seemed to want.
It was time to make her own choices.
But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that study was a good idea, she couldn't get past her need to do something. Another two or three years in academic limbo seemed like a life sentence after the years she'd already lost. But what could she do? What was she qualified for?
Nothing.
Even more frustrated than when she'd started, she put away the catalogues and spent the rest of the day pulling non-existent weeds from the back garden. The portable phone beside her rang mid-afternoon. It was her mother.
"Did you get my card? I'll be flying into Auckland sometime in the next couple of weeks. Coffee?" Danica asked in that voice that had acquired a slight Mediterranean accent over the years.
Vicki agreed, aware that it was more than likely Danica would forget to keep the date. Her mother's haphazard visits were something Vicki had gotten used to. At least that was what she told herself. "Give me a call when you get in."
Hanging up after a quick goodbye, she started pulling weeds with too much force, sending dirt flying everywhere. It took her ten minutes to calm down enough to realize she'd pulled out most of the dark purple and yellow pansies she loved. How did her mother always manage to agitate her so much?
Forcing herself to think through the furious buzz of emotion, Vicki apologized to the plants, replanted the ones that weren't too bedraggled and began to reorganize a border of stones around the garden. After a while, the repetitive physical activity numbed her emotions enough that she felt marginally better, though she knew it was a delaying tactic against not only dealing with her future, but also her chaotic feelings toward Danica.
She was picking up a big stone to reposition it for the seventy-sixth time when Caleb walked around the side of the house. He'd taken the stone from her before she could say a word of welcome. "Where?" he asked, face grim.
She pointed to the right spot. "You look like you saw a ghost."
He set down the stone and straightened. "I saw my pregnant wife threatening to kill herself hauling stones that didn't need to be moved." He was scowling, clearly not amused.
She rolled her eyes. "I was fine." Then she grinned. "You're home in time for dinner."
"I was hoping you'd notice." He rubbed a smudge of dirt off her nose. "Have you been rolling around in the mud again?"
Laughing, she took off a glove and pushed at him. "Change. Then come help me in the kitchen." For a second, their camaraderie was like when they'd first married. He'd come home countless times to tease her that she looked like a laborer's assistant with her broken nails and paint-splattered overalls. Then he'd lift her up in his arms and swing her around, both of them laughing with happiness simply because they were together.
Caleb's grin faded as she stared at him. "What do you see?" he asked.
"Us. Before we lost each other." The words came from somewhere deep in her soul where they'd been trapped for what seemed like forever. Under her hand, his heart beat strong and loud, but she wondered if it still beat for her as passionately as it once had.
"We're not done yet," he said. "Not by a long shot." The stubborn set of his jaw was as familiar to her as her own face, and welcome beyond measure. "You have dirt in your hair." He picked at the strands by her temple.
"I need to shower," she whispered, her voice husky.
For a moment, she thought he heard what she was trying to say, heard the woman in her attempting to come out of hiding, but then he dropped his hand and the moment was gone. "I'll let you clean up and meet you in the kitchen."
She tried not to let her disappointment show. "Okay."
They were just sitting down to dinner at the kitchen table when the phone rang. Caleb picked up the extension on the wall to answer it as she went to grab a forgotten bottle of salad dressing."Yes, I'm listening."
Her head jerked up at the tone of his voice. Gone was all the humor, sensuality, laughter. Tightly controlled, he sounded almost emotionless and there were only a few people who made him sound that way. "Your family? Lara?" she mouthed.
He gave a sharp nod. "How much?"