Three Sisters. Сьюзен Мэллери
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taking care of you and the girls and all I get is accusations and bitterness.”
“You’re expecting gratitude?”
Of course. She’d been a damn good mother and an excellent wife. Not that any of them appreciated her. “I don’t want to be your punching bag.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s extreme.”
“What would you call it? You say those things, and then you turn my children from me.” Her throat tightened, but she refused to show weakness. “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything left to give.”
“Then we have a problem, because I do want more. I want to be a part of things.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.
“What does that mean?”
“That means you lighten up a little. There are dozens of rules for everything the girls or I do. You want to be in complete control of where we go, what we wear, what we eat.”
“I cook dinner and make lunch. That’s not control.” The unfairness stung. “I keep a calendar of activities so I know who has to be driven where. Why are you twisting everything I do?”
She wanted to tell him if he was so unhappy, he could leave. Only she wasn’t ready for that. To be left.
“You’re making me sound like a monster and I’m not.”
His expression tightened. “Tonight at dinner, Audrey asked for a second helping of lasagna and you told her no.”
“She’d had enough.”
“How do you know? She told me later that she’d dropped her sandwich on the floor in the cafeteria, and one of the teachers had thrown it out. She didn’t have any money, so she couldn’t buy lunch. Your daughter had eaten only an apple for lunch and was starving.”
Deanna felt herself flush. “She should have said something.”
“And risk you yelling at her? It was easier to go hungry.”
“I don’t yell.” She didn’t yell. She spoke firmly and reasonably.
“You scare her. Hell, you scare me.”
“I wish that were true.”
He shook his head. “I know you mean well, Deanna, but you’re not easy. I was raised to think that as our children’s mother, you knew best. I don’t believe that anymore. I think there are issues from your past that—”
She slapped her hands on the desk and glared at him. “You leave my mother out of this, you hear me?”
He raised both arms in a gesture of surrender. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about it? We won’t. Here’s what I know. I’m spending more than half my life on the road. I’m missing my children growing up. I’m not here for them and I want to be. I understand that I make more money on the road, but we’re going to have to learn to get by on less. I want to be here. I want to go to games and performances. I want to take them to their various play dates. I want to meet their friends.”
Leaving her with what? Deanna wondered. He was trying to push her out of her own life.
“The second thing I want is to understand what you think of me. Of us.” His mouth twisted slightly. “I doubt you still love me and I’m not sure you even like me. I suspect you’re a lot more fond of our lifestyle than our marriage.” He shrugged. “I’d like to be wrong, but I don’t think so.”
He glanced past her, then returned his gaze to her face. “Was it ever about me or was I a means to an end?”
The insults burned to her bones, while fear held her in an icy grip.
“How dare you?” she said, her voice low and angry.
“Right. How dare I? It’s only my marriage, too.”
She wanted to throw something. To hit him and hurt him the way she’d been hurt. Hatred burned bright, but not bright enough to make her forget what divorce would mean.
“Don’t even think about coming back to our bed,” she told him.
Colin nodded, then actually smiled, even if it was ugly. “Sure. No sex. It’s not like that will be a change.”
With that he turned and walked away. Deanna stared after him for several seconds, before collapsing back into her chair and covering her face with her cracked and raw hands. She waited for the tears, but they didn’t come. She was too empty, too broken. Everything was wrong and she didn’t even know where to start to fix something that had become impossible to understand.
Chapter Six
THE BLACKBERRY ISLAND Inn’s restaurant looked out over the water. The lunch crowd was a combination of business people, tourists and ladies who lunched. Andi studied the menu, trying to decide between the soup and sandwich of the day and the quiche special.
Nina glanced up at her. “Seriously, you have to try the chicken salad on focaccia bread. It’s so good, it’s practically a religious experience.”
“She’s right,” Laura said, adjusting her reading glasses. “I swear I could eat a big ol’ tub of it every day. Of course then I’d get fat and Dr. H would lecture me on my blood pressure and cholesterol.” She put down the menu. “I do adore working for the man, but he is obsessed with health.”
Andi did her best to hold in her laughter. “It’s, um, probably an occupational hazard.”
“You’re right. I was offered a job with a dentist years ago, but I knew I couldn’t stand the sound of that drilling. We can see subatomic particles, but we can’t make quiet dental drills? We’re spending money on the wrong kind of research.”
Everyone chuckled at that. Andi leaned back in her chair and listened to the conversation flow around her. She’d survived her first day at work and was well into her second. She was out to lunch with the office and nursing staff. That morning, she’d left a half dozen burly men ripping up the inside of her house. There weren’t any more bats, she had hot water and basically life was pretty good.
Dawn, one of the nurses, picked up her iced tea. “I can’t believe you moved here on purpose,” she said. “I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve barely been out of the county. I used to dream of moving to Seattle.”
“Then you got married and had kids and now you’re stuck,” Misty said cheerfully. She was the office manager-bookkeeper and the person who kept everything running smoothly.
Laura sipped her diet soda. “She’s just complaining. Don’t listen to a word Dawn says. She loves it here on the island. We all do.”
“So you were all born here?” Andi asked.
“I moved here when I was five,” Laura said. “Which is practically the same thing.” She leaned toward Andi. “You know all the good men are married, right?”
“There are a few single guys around,” Nina said.
“Not many,” Laura said. “As for the tourists, if you see a guy who isn’t with a woman, don’t get excited. Chances are he’s not into your girly parts.”
Misty poked Laura in the arm. “Behave. Don’t frighten Andi her first week.”
“Yes, please don’t,” Andi said with a laugh. “We’ll want to wait and frighten me my second week. For what it’s worth, I’m okay with the lack of men. I suspected as much when I moved here. I had a bad breakup and I’m giving up on men. At least for the next decade.”
Although looking at Wade was a pleasant diversion. She wondered if her handsome contractor fell into the single category or not. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a casual way to ask.
“You’re so brave,” Nina told her. “Starting over in a