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She concentrated hard on her coffee. “Oh,” she finally squeaked out. A week of this? Coffee delivered by a gorgeous man whom she happened to know intimately? Who had joined her last night in bed in his underwear? She’d be a basket case. “Look, obviously I can’t stay here. I’ll call a friend. Or get a hotel.”
“Why is it obvious you can’t stay here?” he asked.
“Kade, we’re getting a divorce. We’re supposed to be fighting, not setting up as roommates.” Certainly she should not be feeling this way about the near nudity of a man she was about to divorce!
“‘From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever,’” he said softly.
“I hate it when you quote Chief Joseph.” No, she didn’t. She loved it. She loved it as much as she loved that he had made her coffee exactly as she liked it, without even having to ask.
She loved that he remembered she had once bought a piece of art—that they couldn’t afford—with a part of that quote as its name. She remembered that he hadn’t been mad. He’d turned the piece over in his hands—a shard of gourd, burned with an Appaloosa galloping across it toward the sun—and he’d smiled and said, “Worth starving for a few weeks.”
And, of course, they hadn’t starved.
But of course, that had been at the beginning, when her staying home and having a house of her own and a husband to look after had been so novel. Later, it seemed as if Kade was nothing but annoyed when she bought things for the house. She thought of reminding him of that.
But it seemed too petty. She slid him a look now. Was he quoting that because they were turning over a new leaf? Because they were not going to squabble anymore?
Everybody squabbled when they got divorced.
“You want to do something fun today?” he asked. “Since fixing the house has been removed from our list?”
No, she did not want to do something fun! She wanted to get a divorce. She wanted to sell the house they had shared. She wanted to cut ties with him. She wanted to adopt a baby and get on with her life, without him. Fun? Who had fun in the middle of a divorce?
“I thought I took the fun out of everything,” she said. She put the coffee down and folded her arms over the largeness of his shirt, which she suddenly wished was at least a little sexy. She recognized the treachery of her thoughts.
He looked bewildered. “You took the fun out of everything?”
“That’s what you said. The day you left.”
Kade looked genuinely shocked. “I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” The words, in fact, felt burned into her, as if they had become part of who she was.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yeah.”
He looked genuinely distressed, but she found she couldn’t let it go.
“So,” she said, trying for a bright, light note, “what do you do for fun? You’re probably an expert at it, now that the dead weight isn’t around your neck anymore.”
“Jessica, I don’t remember saying that. It must have been one of those mean, in-the-heat-of-the-moment things. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter one little bit, as if she had not mulled over those words every single day for a year.
“So if we were going to do something fun today—and I’m not saying that we are—what would you suggest?” Did it sound as if she was forgiving him? Was she forgiving him? “Remember, I have one arm out of commission. Skydiving is out. Ditto for rock climbing. And bull riding.”
“I said that? That you took the fun out of everything?”
“Yes! And then you packed your bag, and you left, and you never looked back.”
“I thought you’d call, Jessica.”
“Why would I call? You were the one who left.” She hesitated. She tried to strip any hurt from her voice. “I thought you’d call.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“Neither did I. I wasn’t going to beg you to come back.”
“Why would you beg me to come back?” he asked wearily. “And I guess that’s why I didn’t call, either. We had reached a complete impasse. We were utterly and exhaustingly miserable. We just seemed to go in endless circles. You wanted a baby. I’d had enough.”
She could see the very real pain in his face. For the first time? Had she really been so wrapped up in herself and what she wanted that she could not see what it was doing to him? She’d accused him of being insensitive to her, but she saw now it had been a two-way street. She felt an odd little shiver of awareness go up her spine.
“So,” Jessica said carefully, trying to navigate the minefield between them without getting blown up, “answer the question. What do you do with a one-armed woman for fun?”
His eyes fastened on her lips.
“Stop it,” she said.
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
“Looking at me like that. I think that would be quite a challenge one armed.”
“What?” he asked innocently.
“You know.”
He smiled wickedly. “I think that could be quite a lot of fun.
“I think it would be darn near impossible.”
“I don’t. I like a challenge. I like figuring things out.”
Good grief, she could not stay here for days with this kind of delicious sensual tension in the air between them.
“I could start by offering to help you shower,” he said, his voice a low growl.
She threw the pillow at him. It was a clean miss, but he dodged anyway, managing to save his coffee. He laughed and made a face at her. “So are we agreed? We’ll do something fun today?”
“I suppose, if you promise to be good,” she said warningly, reaching for the other pillow.
“Do I have to? Okay, okay.” And then he backed away from her, closed the door and was gone.
She freshened up in the bathroom and put on the maternity dress. When she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror of his opulent guest bathroom, she felt she had succeeded just a little too well in her goals.
She had wanted to look as if she didn’t care! She was not sure she had wanted to look quite this bad! She looked like a waif abandoned outside an orphanage. Still, defiantly, refusing to give in to the temptation to win his approval in any way, least of all by trying to make herself attractive to him, she stepped out of the bathroom.
The truth was she hadn’t brought anything else anyway. She had thought her stay here was going to be brief. Given the shakiness of her resolve, looking pathetic seemed as if it could only be a good thing.
He was behind the kitchen counter putting croissants—obviously freshly delivered—on a plate.
“Wow. Excuse me while I pluck out my eyes. I’d forgotten the full ugliness of that dress. Or maybe I blocked it. Trauma.”
“It is not that bad.” He still had not put on a shirt. In the “life was unfair” department, this seemed to rate quite high: that he wanted to pluck out his eyes and she wanted to gaze at him endlessly.
“It is. That bad. Believe me. At least its awfulness helps me figure out the agenda for the day. We need to go shopping first.”
“I am not going shopping. I love this dress.” She didn’t actually. She thought it was quite hideous. “I’m sorry you’ll be embarrassed by me, but that’s the way it is.”
“I’m not embarrassed by you. But in the ‘find something to be grateful for’ department—”
She squinted at him suspiciously. He was not a “find something to be grateful for” kind of guy.
“I’m just glad you didn’t bring the camo one. If we end up in the woods today, I don’t want to misplace you.”
“What are the chances we’ll end up in the woods?”
“Anything can happen when you just let the day unfold.”
She should not feel nearly as thrilled by that as she did! But spontaneity had not been part of her world for a long time, and Jessica suddenly felt eager for it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#u3e8dc4ab-89bf-5f1e-8782-ac9193400ecf)
ONE THING THAT Jessica remembered about Kade with complete fondness was that he always seemed open to what the world could bring him.
They had a simple breakfast at his apartment. He had had the still-steaming croissants and preserves delivered, and they sat out on the terrace and ate in the new warmth of the spring light. What was it about spring that brought hope to even the most wounded heart?
He seemed to forget she looked ugly. She seemed to forget he looked gorgeous. The old comfort rose up between them.
They talked as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them. It was like the old days, when spending time with him felt as if she was spending time with her best friend. The conversation flowed easily and naturally, words spilling out of them, as if they were anxious to catch up. They talked about mutual friends, his aunt Helen and her cousin Dave. They talked a bit about their businesses.
And then they left his place and walked downtown. Jessica became self-consciously aware of the ugliness of her dress again as she walked beside him. Kade was dressed casually in a sports shirt and summer khaki pants, and yet she could not help but notice how he got that look from women. Interested. Admiring. Hungry for a taste of that particular delight. They would glance at her, too, and then dismiss her.
When he came around to her good arm and his hand found hers, her own sense of hunger deepened. She was so aware of how much she had missed this, the small intimacies that made a relationship, the feel of his hand, strong, closing possessively around her own, sending that message to all who passed: taken.
She was determined to make a go of it on her own, but that simple thing, him taking her hand, filled her with a longing that felt physical in its intensity, like a shiver going up and down her spine that would not go away.
If she was smart, she would drop his hand and turn and run.
But smart seemed to have abandoned her. She wanted these moments. It felt as if she was stealing them to store away, as a part of her, for when she did not have him anymore. She actually felt thankful that these memories might overlay the old ones. Their history, leading up to the separation, was so filled with bitterness and anger and frustration that it had become as if the dark colors of a new painting had completely obliterated the light of the old painting that existed right underneath it.
They entered the downtown. It was a beautiful day so they avoided the Plus 15 Skywalk and instead strolled the pedestrian mall on Stephen Avenue. Downtown did not have its weekday bustle, the throngs of men and women in business attire, but there was still a colorful conglomeration of shoppers and activities on the streets.
A cowboy-hatted busker had set up close to Stephen Avenue Walk and was singing lustily. They stopped and watched for a few minutes. Kade dropped a five into his guitar case and they moved on.
They enjoyed the historic sandstone buildings of one of Canada’s few designated National Historic Sites. Calgarians had been conducting their commerce here on Eighth Avenue for over a hundred years. They passed the building where Kade worked, in the heart of Calgary’s financial district, and then walked along the column-fronted arcade of the very impressive Hudson’s Bay Company building. The building had always anchored Calgary’s downtown core.
“How about there?”
She looked at the store Kade had paused to point out. It was a tiny but very upscale boutique called Chrysalis, which Jessica knew of but had never set foot in. “I can’t go in there.”
“Why?”
Mostly because of how she was dressed right now! “I can’t afford anything in there.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“Come on. It will be fun. Remember that scene we liked in that movie?”
“Pretty Woman?” she guessed.
He nodded happily. “Let’s reenact that.”
“I’m no Julia Roberts,” she said, but she could feel herself being drawn into his playfulness. Where had all the playfulness gone between them?
“You are way better than her,” he said, and he looked at her with such genuine male appreciation that she nearly melted.
They went into the shop. It was understated and tasteful. But the salesclerk was a very chic young woman with an outrageous purple streak in her blond hair. She rushed at them, probably, Jessica thought, to get rid of her, the same as in the movie.
“My first customers of the day,” she said gleefully. Then she eyed Jessica with the look of a seasoned fashion aficionado. Rather than judgment or snobbery, Jessica sensed friendliness and very genuine concern. “What is that you are wearing?”
In a tone that should be reserved for “I’m so sorry to hear about the death in your family.”
“I’m having a little trouble with my arm,” Jessica said defensively.
“Even so, you’re lovely! And just a little bit of a thing. You have to show off your assets!” She cast Kade a look that clearly said, “Especially if you are with a guy who looks like that,” and that she clearly considered him an asset worth keeping.
“Thank you. We’ll just have a quick look around,” Jessica said.
“No, no, no. I am going to guide you through your Chrysalis experience.”
“Oh, dear,” Jessica mumbled, and sent Kade a pleading look. Get me out of here. But Kade folded his arms over his chest and shrugged slightly. Let’s just go with it.
“I will have you fixed up in no time. In fact, I will love working with you. Caterpillar to butterfly, as our name suggests. I’m Holly, by the way.”
The girl’s enthusiasm was so genuine that Jessica could not even stir herself to annoyance at being called, basically, an insect pupa.
“Usually, I would ask about your lifestyle, but today I think you’re looking for some things that are easier to get in and out of, aren’t you?”
Kade frowned at Holly. “We were hoping for someone more like the salesclerk in Pretty Woman. You know? If you could just be snotty, and then I flash my gold card at you and you fall all over yourself trying to help us out.”
Holly laughed. “Well, I like the gold card part. And I always fall all over myself trying to help people out.” She looked at Jessica. “How would you feel if I just put you in a change room and found some things that I think would work for you?”
Jessica should be insulted. She was obviously being told she could not be trusted to pick out her own things, but given the dress she had on, could she blame the girl?
“I like to encourage everyone to let me pick some things for them,” Holly said. “You know, people get in shopping ruts.”
