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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. Jill watched Craig move silently about the kitchen, intentionally bypassing the chicken and mashed potatoes she'd picked up at the fast food place in favor of






Jill watched Craig move silently about the kitchen, intentionally bypassing the chicken and mashed potatoes she'd picked up at the fast food place in favor of a cold turkey sandwich. She sipped from her tea as he meticulously lathered each slice of bread with mayonnaise. She took a deep breath, wondering if the silence was as uncomfortable to him as it was to her.

" How was the tournament? " Jill finally asked.

He shrugged. " Okay."

She nodded and raised her eyebrows. " And did you win? "

His laugh was sarcastic. " Oh, Jill, stop pretending like you have an interest in our baseball team."

She started to protest but thought better of it. There was no point in arguing the truth.

" Okay." She stood, tossing the rest of her tea down the sink and rinsing out her glass. " I'm assuming your sandwich is not just an appetizer. If you don't want any of this chicken, I'll put it up."

He laughed again. " Yeah, I know you went to a lot of trouble with dinner but this sandwich is just fine."

She gripped the countertop hard then spun around. " What the hell is wrong with you? "

" Oh, now that's a silly question, Jill."

She shook her head. " What do you want me to do? "

" I want you to be a goddamned wife, that's what I want, " he yelled. He tossed his uneaten sandwich on the table and stormed from the room.

She leaned her head back, glancing to the ceiling with eyes closed, trying to hold on to just a tiny portion of the euphoric feeling she'd left with from Carrie's. But being back home— away from Carrie—it was hard to keep her spirit up, not when she was thrust smack into the middle of her rapidly unraveling life.

She took a deep breath, following after Craig as he ran up the stairs. She found him coming out of their bedroom with his pillow and a handful of clothes. She stopped, her eyes moving from the clothes to his face, his eyes angry as he looked back at her.

" What's left, Jill? " He shrugged. " This is it, isn't it? Me moving out of your bed? " Again, the sarcastic laugh. " We have a goddamned king-size bed and I haven't touched so much as your big toe in months. I don't see the point anymore."

She supposed he thought she would argue, would beg him not to move into the spare room but she looked at him with indifference. " As you wish, " she said quietly.

He shook his head. " You're unbelievable. You can't even fight about it."

" Fight about what? You know how I feel. Do you think it suddenly changed overnight? "

He stared at her for a long moment. " What did you do today? "

" What do you mean? " she asked, hoping her face did not reveal the inner turmoil she was feeling.

" You weren't home. What did you do all day? "

She didn't bother to ask how he knew this. Arlene had no doubt come by to check on her. " I was out and about, " she said with as much casualness as she could muster. " Had errands, shopping."

His eyes narrowed. " You left before nine and didn't come home until after six, " he stated, his tone accusing.

But she squared her shoulders. " There's really no need to have Arlene spy on me, Craig. It's certainly none of her business what I do on my own time."

" Fine. You want to continue this charade then so be it. Let me know when you're ready to tell me the truth."

He walked purposefully into the spare room, firmly closing the door behind him. She stared at the door for a moment, then turned, surprised to find Angie standing in the hallway. Their eyes met but Jill looked away, not knowing what to say to her daughter. She had most likely heard their entire conversation.

" Why don't you just get it over with? "

Jill walked down the stairs, ignoring her, hoping she would just go back into her room. But she followed Jill into the kitchen.

" What are you waiting for? " Angie asked.

" Angie, this is between me and your father. You don't know what's going on."

" I do know, " she said loudly. " He's moved into the other room because you're having an affair, " she accused.

" Angie, I'm not."

" Liar! Quit lying to me, " she screamed. " You're seeing another man! "

" I'm not. I swear I'm not."

" You're lying! You're lying, " she said again. " Why can't you just tell Daddy the truth? Just get it over with so I don't have to worry day after day what's going to happen."

" Angie, it's not that simple." She spread her hands. " And nothing's going to happen to you."

" Yes it is. You're going to get a divorce and make me leave here. You're going to move somewhere and make me go with you. Well, I don't want to go with you, " she yelled. " I hate you! I want to stay with Daddy! "

She ran from the kitchen, her feet pounding on the stairs as she hurried back to her room. Jill heard the door slam and she hesitated, torn between comforting her daughter and her own fears. Carrie was right. If Angie found out about their relationship, it would ruin the fragile bond between mother and daughter. Angie would never understand, especially at her age.

She sank down heavily in the chair, staring at the half-eaten sandwich Craig had flung there earlier. She felt alienated. Even in her own kitchen, surrounded by familiar things, she felt little more than a stranger in her own home.

She leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands as she stared across the room. Little by little, their accusations began to fade, being replaced by much more pleasant words, snippets of conversations between Carrie and herself, softly spoken words of love passing between them in their most fervent moments of passion, teasing words as they sat side by side at the pier, and then no words at all as they held hands by the flower garden, admiring their work as the clock slowly ticked the time away.

 






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