“Could be.” Claude rubbed his hand through his sparse hair. “We’ve all changed a bit.” He grinned. “Not that I have any reason to complain.”
This meeting wasn’t at all what Tanner had expected. He’d anticipated bitterness and hostility, and he still couldn’t trust the joviality Claude exhibited. He could understand artificial cheerfulness as a front to cover hurt, but somehow Claude’s feelings seemed genuine.
“You’re looking good, Claude. How’s the newspaper?” Small talk, Tanner thought, the great conversation rescuer.
“Doing great. Remember that new section you wanted to add, Amanda? The family-life section?”
“I remember you were opposed to the idea.”
“But you finally convinced me. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Did it increase circulation?” Amanda didn’t have her mind on circulation; she was wondering why Claude seemed so relaxed and cheerful.
“It did more than that. But I’d prefer to show you than tell you. You know my flair for the dramatic. I guess that’s why I didn’t write a note on the Christmas card. Have dinner with me tonight. Our—my house.”
The correction stung Tanner. Claude had meant the house he’d shared with Amanda. Tanner would rather walk on a bed of nails than see the inside of that house.
Amanda sensed his reluctance and understood. She quickly intervened and made arrangements for them to meet Claude at a restaurant. There were still things that needed to be said. She and Tanner had come too far to leave without finishing what they’d started.
The two hours they spent in the motel, waiting for the appointed dinner hour, seemed like forever. Amanda fiddled with the radio until she found some decent music, then, in pretended gaiety, danced around the small room. After bouncing into Tanner four times he finally complained that he wasn’t going to have any feet left, and she quit. Tanner, of course, resorted to his bad football jokes. Amanda squelched her screams of agony.
Neither of them mentioned what had happened at the newspaper office. It had gone too easily. They didn’t dare voice their separate skepticism, for fear they’d put a jinx on the trip.
Finally it was time to meet Claude. He was waiting for them outside the restaurant. He looked as cheerful as before.
“I don’t understand Claude anymore. You’d think a man who’d lost the most desirable woman in the whole world would be doing something besides standing on the sidewalk smiling like a jackass eating saw briers.” Uncertainty had made Tanner testy. He whipped his car into a space that appeared too small. He hated situations he didn’t understand, and he’d be damned if he could figure Claude out.
“Be charitable, Tanner. I think he looks a little tired, like he’s working too hard.”
Amanda’s wifely comment about Claude grated on Tanner’s nerves. For a moment he considered backing out of the parking space and heading back to Greenville as fast as he could. But he didn’t—he got out and opened Amanda’s door. When she reached up and put her hand in his, he melted inside. They’d survive, he decided. This trip had to be the supreme test. They were seeing each other at their worst, and it hadn’t lessened his love for Amanda one iota. He hoped she felt the same about him.
He put his arms around her waist and smiled.
“Let’s go see what your ex-husband has to show us.”
Claude greeted them and took them inside the restaurant to their table, all the while making small talk. He asked about their parents, Tanner’s brothers and sisters, and Maxine. He inquired about changes in their hometown. He was maddeningly calm, and whatever he had to show them apparently would wait. There was no mention of why they were sitting at a table for eight. There was no sign of the dramatic surprise he’d hinted at earlier. But they noticed that from time to time he looked down at his watch.
Claude ordered drinks. Tanner experienced a sense of déjà vu. When they were a threesome in the old days, Claude had been the one to place the orders. Usually he and Amanda were too engrossed in each other to pay attention to mundane things such as food and drink.
As they sipped their drinks a little boy raced through the restaurant and came to a stop beside Claude’s chair. He wore red long johns, overalls with no shirt, and enough freckles to decorate at least three more boys.
“Hey, Claude. We got here late because Mama had to keep fixin’ her face, but don’t tell her I said so.” His red cowlick bounced up and down, and his brown eyes sparkled with devilment as he scooted into a chair.
Claude beamed. “Tanner and Amanda, I’d like you to meet John.”