Marriage by Contract Part 3. Sandra Steffen
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“I don’t know what I see in my future a year from now, or in five years, or ten. And that’s the honest-to-God truth.”
Beth closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she were more like Janet, who never rocked the boat, or made waves, or got herself into a situation that had no clear and easy way out.
“Look,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s forget about it and just go on the way we were.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because,” she said, imploring him with her eyes, “I thought I would die of hurt and heartache when Barry left me. But I didn’t. As time went on, I realized that my life with him had been a lie. What you and I are doing for Christopher and Annie feels good and honorable and right. It feels like destiny, but I need to keep the truth in front of me, so I know where I’m going, and why.”
He heaved a great sigh. “Where does that leave us?”
“Between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I’ll move my clothes back into the spare room later this morning.”
“What?”
She wanted to explain to him that if she continued to have sex with him, she was going to fall in love with him. And she just didn’t think she could live through being thrown away twice for the same reason. But she became tongue-tied and ended up saying, “I think it would be best.”
“Best?” he bellowed.
“Less awkward.”
“I think I should have some say in this,” he declared, his voice rising. “We’re married, and we should sleep in the same bed, dammit. If you don’t want me to make love to you, I won’t. I’m not some rutting teenager, you know. I’m old enough to control my own lust.”
When she didn’t answer, Tony stalked to the door and slammed it behind him.
He arrived at the hospital with his tie loose and his cuffs unbuttoned, wondering what in the hell had happened last night. One minute he’d been contemplating what he was going to do when he took Beth to bed, and the next thing he knew, they were talking about whether or not he saw her in his future. No wonder her mother didn’t understand her. Bethany Kent Petrocelli was one obstinate, contrary woman.
He buttoned his cuffs, thinking that wasn’t entirely fair or true. Beth was beautiful and smart and thoughtful. That was the problem. She thought too much. How was he supposed to know how he felt about the fact that she couldn’t give him kids of his own? Did she want him to say he was happy about it? He sure as hell didn’t believe it was a good enough reason to move her clothes back into the spare bedroom. What was he going to do about that woman?
He locked his car and headed for the hospital’s back entrance. At least he knew what he was doing at the hospital. Delivering babies and doling out prenatal vitamins and listening to unborn babies’ heartbeats was his forte. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what to do about his marriage. Not a stinking clue.
* * *
Later that morning, after she’d fed Christopher and had given him his bath, Beth called her brother-in-law and made an appointment to have a post-nuptial agreement drawn up. Then she walked upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Tony, staring at the king-size bed, lost in thought. She thought for most of the day. She came up with a lot of questions, but no revelations or resolutions.
Tony arrived home shortly after six. They shared dinner and made polite conversation. When he was called to the hospital to deliver a baby a few minutes before eight, they both breathed a secret sigh of relief at the reprieve.
By the time Tony returned home, it was after midnight. He took the stairs two at a time, pausing in the doorway of his bedroom, where Beth was sound asleep. She hadn’t moved her things back to the spare bedroom. Being careful not to make too much noise releasing another pent-up sigh of relief, he checked on Christopher, then undressed and crawled into bed.
There was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t have fallen asleep immediately. Beth didn’t jostle the bed. And he couldn’t smell her perfume or shampoo, or feel her warmth. She was too far away. But he knew she was there. And sleep was going to be a long time coming.
Beth opened her eyes and lay staring into the darkness, wondering if Tony would reach for her or whisper good-night. He did neither, tossing and turning on his side of the bed while she lay motionless on hers. The line had been drawn, and neither of them knew how to cross it.
MacKenzie worked her into his schedule on Tuesday, fitting her between a sticky divorce and a property dispute that was turning into a feud that rivaled the Hatfields and the McCoys. She thought her brother-in-law looked tired, but she didn’t tell him as much. In return, he asked her questions regarding the document she wanted him to draw up. As was their family’s way, he handled himself with a certain understated finesse and didn’t delve too deeply into her personal life or emotions.
Tuesday night seemed to take forever, as did Wednesday. Beth and Tony had dinner together both evenings. They talked about the baby, the weather, his work, but there were long stretches of silence when they faced each other, quiet and uncertain. They said good-night after crawling into bed together, but they didn’t kiss, and they didn’t make love.
Thursday morning, Beth picked up the legal document. After strapping Christopher into his car seat in the car, tears gathered in her eyes. They seemed to come out of nowhere with so much force she couldn’t stop them. Christopher stared up at her, his expression so serious she cried harder, promising him that everything would be all right all the while.
When the tears finally stopped, she dried her face and kissed the baby tenderly. And then she went to the Silver Gypsy to see Jenna.
* * *
Christopher was fascinated with the faint purl of wind chimes and the brightly colored scarves overhead. “Just look at him,” Jenna exclaimed. “He’s getting a double chin.”
Beth smiled. “He’s gained half a pound since we brought him home.”
“He looks healthy, all right. You, on the other hand, look like hell.”
Pretending to be interested in one of the new necklaces Jenna had designed, Beth shrugged. “In order for Christopher to put on weight, someone has to feed him. Often. I’m running low on sleep these days, that’s all.”
Jenna made a most unbecoming sound. “What a crock. You’re one of those people whose eyes become luminous when you’re tired, and you know it. Come on,” she said, swishing through the beads in the doorway leading to the tiny back room. “We’ll brew a pot of tea and you can tell Auntie Jenna all about what’s bothering you.”
Jenna was three years younger than Beth and looked about as auntlike as a sheikh’s belly dancer. Her long black hair swished when she walked, her strappy sandals showcasing small feet and narrow ankles. She was five three and had once said she’d been built low to the ground for easier maneuverability. Suddenly Beth found herself sitting at the tiny glass table in one corner, sipping strong tea and telling Jenna about her married life with Tony.
“We’re both miserable,” she said, nearing the end of her account. “We’re so fidgety and edgy and polite, I want to scream.”
“Of course you’re fidgety. You’re sleeping with a man who can’t touch you.”
“Do you think I should move back to the spare bedroom?”
Jenna snorted. “Few marriages work without sex, especially when one of the parties involved is nicknamed the Italian Stallion. I think you should take up where you left off several days ago.”
Beth shook her head. “That’s interesting advice coming from someone who hasn’t had a date in years.”
Jenna’s brown eyes twinkled like her Gypsy ancestors as she said, “We’re not talking about my sex life.