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“He can cite chapter and verse. He’s not a pest control expert, so how would he know there are termites? Nor is he a builder. Therefore he can’t advise anyone about the roof, as it’s out of his area of expertise. I told him, ‘How can I sell houses I know have problems and not say anything? If those people moved in they would practically be my neighbors.’”
“Did you ever stop to think maybe you’re in the wrong business?” Max asked mildly.
Kelly heard an old rebuke. “Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“What you’re thinking—that I should quit my job.” She picked up his glass to take a sip and discovered bourbon mixed with the Coke. Strange. Max wasn’t a drinker; the bourbon usually only came out when they had company. “Is something wrong, Max?”
An odd flicker of alarm crossed his face as he took the glass from her hand and drained it. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Kelly felt his forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you sure? You don’t seem yourself tonight.”
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “I’m fine.”
Kelly searched his averted profile a moment more, then shrugged, took up a spoon and tasted the chili. “Needs salt.”
Max batted her hand away. “I’m doing the cooking.”
Robyn, their eldest daughter at twelve years of age, hurried into the room. She was dressed in her leotard, toe shoes dangling from her hand and her dark hair tied back in a knot. “Da-a-ad, I’m going to be late for ballet,” she wailed, then stopped when she saw Kelly. “Where’ve you been?”
“Working. And don’t use that tone with me. If you’re ready to go, I’ll take you. Have you had dinner?”
“No.” Robyn found her running shoes in the pile of footwear by the back door and sat on a straight-back chair to lace them up.
“Max!” Kelly said. “You could at least have made sure she’d eaten.”
Max’s expression turned cold, causing Kelly’s stomach to sink. Tonight, of all nights, she wished she hadn’t sniped at him. These days, one wrong word, one reproach or testy comment from either side, was all it took to set them off.
“Robyn’s old enough to get herself something to eat,” Max informed her. “And I’ve got other things to do besides fix dinner and chauffeur the kids around.”
“You didn’t have to make dinner tonight.”
“If you weren’t so wrapped up in yourself these days, Kelly, you’d know I’m behind on all my projects, not just the Whidbey Island house. And the reason I’m behind is that I’ve had to pick up the slack for you.”
If anything upset her it was the suggestion that she wasn’t meeting her responsibilities. “Maybe you’re taking on too much work. For thirteen years I’ve been a devoted wife and mother. Now that the twins don’t need me as much, don’t I deserve a career of my own?”
“I might not mind if I thought you enjoyed your job, but all you do is complain about Ray and then give in to his every demand on your time. What about me and the kids…when do you make time for us?”
“I do enjoy my job—”
“Stop it!” Robyn shrieked, and stomped over to the fridge. “I don’t want dinner. I’ll eat an apple on the way.”
The volume on the TV had steadily climbed to compensate for their raised voices. Now Max yelled, “Beth! Turn that TV down.”
Beth, her light brown hair tousled, peered over the back of the couch, anxiously scanning her parents. The volume dropped abruptly.
Max picked up a spice jar and with jerking movements shook half the bottle of chili powder into the pot.
“Oh, great!” Kelly said, throwing up her hands. “Now the twins won’t eat it.”
“What won’t we eat?” Tina said, running into the room, with Tammy close on her heels, their identical blond curls bouncing midway down their backs. Billy and Flora swirled around their legs. The pre-schoolers stopped short at the sight of Max’s scowling face and, with identical wide blue eyes, glanced uneasily at their mother.
“Hi, girls. Did you have a good day?” Kelly stooped to gather her little ones into her arms, eager to maintain a semblance of peace for the children’s sake. How quickly these angry exchanges between her and Max could flare up scared her.
“We made finger puppets in play school,” Tina said, holding up a cardboard cylinder decorated with colored pieces of felt. “I’m Tweedledee.”
“And I’m Tweedledum.” Tammy waggled her puppet close to Kelly’s face.
“Lovely. You can put on a play for us after dinner.”
The twins squirmed out of her arms and ran off to crouch beneath the breakfast bar so they could dance their puppets above the edge for their father’s benefit. The dogs trotted off to the kitchen, sniffing the floor for fallen scraps.
Kelly swallowed past the lump in her throat and walked over to the family room to flick on a floor lamp, then drew the blinds against the encroaching darkness. “Hi, Beth. How did your spelling test go?”
“I got forty-eight out of fifty,” said the ten-year old without taking her eyes off the preteen adventure show playing out on the TV.
“That’s wonderful, honey. Aren’t you glad we went over your list of words that one last time?”
“Mom, I’m ready,” Robyn called. “Can we leave?”
Kelly was following her daughter out the front door, when Max appeared in the hallway. “Are you coming back?”
She stared at him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You might stop off at the office, for all I know.”
“Well, I’m not going to.” She reached for his hand. “Max, please. Let’s not fight.”
He squeezed her hand, then dropped it, suddenly looking very tired. “The last thing I want is to fight.”
Kelly drove Robyn to ballet in silence, her mind circling around her argument with Max. Ever since she’d started working, their relationship had been rocky. So what if she refused to give up her job or hire a housekeeper? She was coping. If he was fair he’d admit that not only her job caused problems. His business was expanding and the demands of work and family often overwhelmed them both.
Robyn’s worried voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you and Daddy going to get divorced?”
Kelly’s hands jerked on the wheel, making the car swerve across the center line. “Where did you get that idea?”
“You’re always fighting.” Robyn’s face looked pale in the dim light between street lamps. “Janie’s mother and father were like that before they split up.”
“Yes, but…” Kelly sputtered, still taken aback that Robyn had even brought the subject up. “That’s them. Your father and I…we’re different.”
“How?”
“We love each other.”
“Do you?”
Kelly stared straight ahead. Did they still love each other? Or was it a fiction they were desperately trying to maintain? They’d been high-school sweethearts; if they met today for the first time, would they have anything in common?
“Yes,” she said firmly, to convince herself as much as her daughter. “We love each other. And we’re not getting divorced.”
She pulled to a halt in front of the ballet school and turned to touch Robyn’s cheek. “Your father and I have some problems, but they’re work related. There’s nothing big enough or bad enough to stop us from being a family. Don’t worry, honey. Okay? I’ll see you in an hour.”
Robyn shook her head. “Janie’s mom’s picking us up and I’m staying overnight. Dad said it was okay.”
“All right, then. See you tomorrow.”
When she got home, the TV was off and Max was reading to the twins from their favorite Richard Scarry book. Beth was probably in her room, playing her Game Boy. Kelly glanced at the uncleared dining table and the two bowls of uneaten chili con carne and shook her head.
Were she and Max still going out? She wasn’t even sure she wanted to any longer. Tension had tied her stomach in knots and ruined her appetite.
“I’m going out to the plant room,” she said to no one in particular. Time spent with her dried flowers always soothed her nerves.
The plant room was an addition to the already sprawling outbuilding Max had built in the northeast corner of the property. The main shed housed the gardening equipment and barbecue. To that, Max had added a chicken coop with nesting space for three chickens, and finally a long narrow section in which Kelly dried flowers and worked on her floral arrangements.
She pushed through the door, comforted by its familiar creak, and was enveloped by the mingled scents of drying flowers. French lavender, roses, Sweet Annie, strawflowers, yarrow, baby’s breath, blue larkspur, Marguerite daisies and more, hung in bunches from overhead wires strung the length of the room.
She’d settled onto a high stool at the bench and was working on an arrangement of barley, oats and red rosebuds to the comfortable sound of hens clucking as they roosted for the night, when she heard a knock. The door opened and Max came in. Kelly’s hands stilled on pale gold stalks, as she tensed for another argument.
His outstretched hand held a glass of wine. “I thought maybe you could use this.”
“Thanks.” She softened; this was his way of apologizing. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Max came closer, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her until her knees felt as soft and warm as soap melting in hot water. Kelly’s spirits lifted. They hadn’t made love in weeks. Or was it months? She’d lost track as their sex life had gone from fireworks to fizzle, but this weekend could still turn out to be special.
“Your anniversary present is in my briefcase,” she told him when at last he drew back. “I’ll go get it.”
“Stay here,” Max said. “I’ll do it.”
He returned a few minutes later, bearing a square yellow envelope inscribed with his name. Anxiously, Kelly watched him open it. He was always saying she should be less practical and more romantic, but was this going too far? She hadn’t had a lot of time to consider the matter.
Max pulled out the card and a gift voucher fell out. His first reaction, quickly covered, was one of dismay. “Latin-dance lessons?”
“Okay, so it’s really for both of us. But it’ll be fun, I promise you. And it’s something we can do together.” She smiled slyly. “Tango, the salsa, the lambada… Latin dancing is very sexy.”
“Sexy? Maybe we could use a little…ahem, exercise. Thanks, Kel.” He tucked the card back in the envelope. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait awhile for your present.”
In other words, he hadn’t gotten around to buying her anything. Kelly hid her disappointment. He’d given her those beautiful roses, after all. “That’s okay.”
He kissed her again. “Are you going to be long? Nancy’s here.”
“I’ll be right out. Where shall we go for dinner?”
Casually he brushed a finger over the silky fringe of an oat head. “I hope you’re not too hungry….”
“I’m starving. Don’t tell me you ate with the kids.”
“No, no. But maybe you’d better have a snack before we go. It’ll take a couple of hours to get to the restaurant.”
“A couple of hours? Where are you taking me?”
A grin widened his angular jaw, his first full-on smile of the evening. “I made reservations for the Salish Lodge at Snoqualmie Falls. We drive up tonight for the weekend. Kind of like a second honeymoon. That’s my present to you. To us.”
“Oh, Max! That is fantastic.” She rose and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you!”
Max lifted Kelly right off the ground and held her tightly against him. “Don’t ever stop loving me, Kel,” he whispered against her neck. “I couldn’t bear it.”
CHAPTER TWO
MAX OFTEN SURPRISED HER with a romantic gesture, but a weekend at the Salish Lodge was positively inspired. The roaring wood fire with its scent of burning pine, the warmth and elegance of the rustic furniture, and the hot tub for two…all promised a weekend of cozy intimacy.
Kelly accepted the crystal flute Max handed her. “Heavenly. But can we afford Dom Pérignon?”
“Sometimes you just have to say to hell with the cost, Kel.” He shifted closer to her on the love seat and held her gaze. “To us. Whoever said thirteen was an unlucky number was wrong.”
Clinking glasses, Kelly repeated, “To us. And to another thirteen years.” Thirteen had better not be unlucky; they needed all the help they could get.
Max sipped his champagne and set the glass on the coffee table. “Did I tell you I sent off my entry for the Stonington Award today?”
“Really? Which house? What category?”
“The split level in Falkner’s Cove. Luxury domicile. If I win—heck, even if I get nominated—my career should take off. I’d finally be able to keep you in the style to which you’d like to become accustomed.”
“I always knew you’d make it.”
“With a boost to our income, we could hire a cleaner,” Max said. “Stop you from spreading yourself too thin.”
“I can manage. I always have.” Hiring a cleaner would mean she wasn’t doing her job at home, and Kelly took pride in being a good mother and housekeeper. “There’s no reason I can’t do it all.”
“Come on, Kel. We’ve had this argument before.”
“Too many times,” she agreed. “Let’s drop it for now.” She took Max’s sigh for acquiescence and snuggled up to him, enjoying the weight of his arm draped around her shoulder. “This is just like our first honeymoon.”
“Not quite,” Max murmured, nibbling her ear. “The first time we came here we were in bed before we could unpack.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the king-size bed and back at Max. “Down your bubbly, soldier. We’re going in.”
Kelly stripped off her clothes, recalling how, on their first honeymoon, Max had removed them for her. Thirteen years on, lovemaking wasn’t the mad, passionate event it once was, and a long time had passed since they’d gone to bed with the express purpose of having sex. Nowadays they mostly fell asleep right away, exhausted by a full day of work, chores and responsibilities.
But whether it was the champagne or the romantic setting or the promise of a weekend to themselves, once beneath the down comforter, with her bare breasts pressed to Max’s chest, Kelly forgot everything except the heat moving through her veins and the gladness in her heart that they were here, making love, instead of warring at home.
She trailed kisses beneath his jaw, testing the texture of his skin with her tongue. “Mmm, you taste good. You did remember to bring condoms, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh.” His hands slid down her back and over her hips, bringing her closer. “But do we have to use them?”
“Until I get fitted with another IUD, yes. Dr. Johnson said my body should have a short rest from the device.”
Max nudged a knee between hers. “It’s been a while since we’ve made love. You feel really good, Kel.”
