Twice Her Husband. Mary J. Forbes
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looked only at his plate.
Something about the kid’s sullen face annoyed Luke. He might have been looking at himself at ten. Hold your head up, he wanted to demand. Don’t take a backseat to anyone.
But he said nothing. Alexei wasn’t his responsibility.
Except for Joselyn sucking her tiny forefinger with each bite and humming her food away, they ate in silence.
That evening, a nurse helped Ginny gather her belongings, and pull on the blue skirt Luke had brought in a bag from home. The jeans she’d worn into town would not fit over her cast.
Dr. Stearns had been reluctant to release her unless another adult stayed at home with her throughout the night. She’d had a mild concussion, after all. Ginny promised the good man there would be someone. Who, she wasn’t sure. She’d find an off-duty nurse, anyone, just so she could be with her children.
Outside the room’s window, a heliotrope sunset animated the landscape. A robin sought worms in the patch of grass between the twenty-bed hospital and its parking lot. On the topmost branch of a walnut tree, two crows squabbled.
Life, plodding on.
She’d phoned the children; their excitement wet her eyes.
She’d called a cab—and argued with Luke over her decision.
Two hours ago he’d slipped into her room carrying a bag stuffed with French onion soup and a sumptuous vegetarian concoction that tasted of Mexico—again from Kat’s Kitchen. Afterward, the nurse had shooed him out with the excuse Ginny needed an hour’s sleep. She’d lain awake wondering what on earth he’d wanted. To assuage his guilt over hitting her with his car? To talk over old times? Be friends? Once he’d been her closest friend, her soul mate.
Since then she’d come to realize that in a world of billions, a soul mate wasn’t necessarily your one true love. Soul mates could be sisters, mothers, friends or a husband you loved simply because he was who he was.
Like Boone.
The nurse pushed a wheelchair to the side of the bed, checking Ginny’s train of thought. “Let’s get you in this.”
“It’s okay. I can walk. I just need my purse and crutches.”
“Hospital policy, honey. We don’t want you fainting before you get out of here.”
Ginny laughed and it felt good. “I’m not the fainting type.”
Determined, the older woman nodded to the chair. “Indulge us and enjoy the ride.”
Ginny sighed. The nurse helped her into the wheelchair, arranged her purse and crutches then lifted the sunflowers from the windowsill.
“Oh,” Ginny said with a twinge of regret. “Could you leave them at the nurses’ station?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You don’t like them?”
I do. But I’m not comfortable accepting a gift from my ex-husband. “Let them brighten the hospital.” She softened her objection with a smile.
“All right.” Reluctantly, the woman replaced the vase. “Do you mind if I give them to Mrs. Arken instead? She’ll be in here for another couple of weeks.”
“That would be nice.”
They wheeled from the room and down the Lysol-scrubbed corridor.
“Looks like your ride’s waiting.” The nurse chuckled. “Got another batch of flowers for you.”
Ginny could see that. Luke stood waiting in the hospital’s admittance center, a wicker basket of ferns, ivy and African violets balanced on one big palm. Her pulse leaped—though she couldn’t determine if it was due to the cut and shape of his chinos and green polo shirt, or her irritation that she’d need to cancel her taxi.
“Don’t you have some files to review?” she grumbled.
His grin faltered as he fell in beside her. “All caught up.”
They broke through the electronic doors and he pointed to Hallie’s hatchback parked twenty feet down the sidewalk.
“Where’s your car?” she asked.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to ride in the Mustang after… Well, you know.”
Her prickliness evaporated. He’d always been sensitive to her needs. Except one.
“Luke, your car doesn’t scare me.” You do.
He opened the door, folded back the seat, set in the planter basket and her purse, and arranged her crutches on the floor.
“Where are the sunflowers?” he asked.
“They’re making Mrs. Arken smile.”
He blinked. “You gave them away?”
She should have considered her actions. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. “Luke, I’m sorry. I thought it would be nice—”
“Forget it.” Gently, he lifted her from the chair into the passenger seat and helped her with the seat belt. When he finally slid behind the wheel, he asked, “Straight home?”
Ginny clasped her hands in her lap. “Yes.”
Luke started the ignition, pulled toward the exit. “It’s okay, you know. About the flowers.”
“It’s not okay. I should’ve given your gift more thought.”
He shrugged. “You’re right. They’ll make Mrs. Arken happy.”
They rode in silence until they reached the road out of town. Ginny asked, “How are the kids?” How had he reacted to them and they to him?
“Fine. The boy’s a bit of a handful. Baby looks like you.”
Suddenly she wanted to know. “Do you have children?”
“Nope.”
So in twelve years his mind hadn’t changed. Relief, disappointment, regret. Each emotion struck her separately and made her heart ache harder. “Married?” She hadn’t seen a ring.
“Double nope.” A grin flashed strong white teeth. “And no significant other, in case you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” Of course she was.
She stared out the side window. They passed a small farm with lambs hopscotching at their mothers’ sides.
Her property lay south of town. The ride was quick, quiet. Luke signaled and turned into the fir-shaded lane leading to the clearing and the house Orville Franklin had constructed for his family almost eighty-five years ago.
As Luke pulled up beside Ginny’s car in front of the welcoming arms of the porch, Alexei stood in the doorway with Bargain, the six-month-old Lab-pointer cross she’d found at the SPCA before their move to Oregon. Ginny waved.
And just like that boy and dog bounded across the deck and down the steps. He hauled open her door, great grin on his face. “Mama! You’re back! Are you okay? How’s your leg? Where’s it broken? Can I write on your cast?”
She laughed. “Hey, sweetie. Hold the questions until we’re inside. Help your mom out, will you?”
“Hold on a sec.” Luke strode around the hood. “I’ll help your mother.”
Her son’s grin curled into a frown. “I can do it.”
“You don’t have the strength. Watch it, little dog,” he said to Bargain, nosing her way between Ginny and the door. Catching Ginny under the arms, Luke eased her from the seat until she stood gripping the open door of the car.
Alexei glared at Luke. Mouth tight, he ran up the steps and into the house. Whining, Bargain clambered after him.
“Alexei,” Ginny called. To Luke she