The New Husband(2)
But today it all felt eerily unsettling.
At the far edge of her lawn a splendid oak tree growing near her property line spread its thick branches from the neighbor’s yard into hers, providing pockets of shade where a bold chipmunk escaped the August heat and observed the move with curious dark eyes.
Turning her head to the sound of scuffing footsteps, Nina watched nervously as her son, Connor, backed down the truck ramp clutching an oversize box in his outstretched arms.
“Careful, buddy. That looks pretty heavy,” Simon said as Connor made a tricky pivot move at the bottom of the ramp that had heated to a steak-sizzling temperature under the unrelenting summer sun.
After deftly avoiding the family’s five-year-old golden retriever, Daisy, who had splayed herself out at the foot of the ramp, Connor sent Simon a confident look that carried no resentment, but then again, he didn’t share Maggie’s unrealistic fantasies about their dad. He knew as well as Nina that Glen was gone, and gone for good.
Connor trotted the box up the wide front stairs with ease. Nina still could not get comfortable with how much he’d grown in the past few years. He towered over her and his younger sister. Not only was he tall for his age—sixteen going on twenty-six, judging by his attitude these days—but he was also well-muscled, thanks to his dedication to the football team. He was as handsome as a Disney prince, too, with a wavy head of jet-black hair and an irresistible dimpled smile. He’d gotten Nina’s darker Italian coloring, and Glen, who was Irish through and through, had made plenty of milkman jokes over the years.
Inside, Nina caught Maggie, blue eyes brimming, surveying the empty rooms from the unfurnished foyer. The modest home was a good deal smaller than the one her daughter had lived in all her life, but square footage was not the reason for Maggie’s distress. It was all about whom she’d be living with, not where.
It was all about Simon.
If somebody had told Nina a few years ago that she would end up living with the social studies teacher from her daughter’s middle school, in a new house they had bought together, she would have broken into a fit of laughter.
In another eight months or so, the court most likely would grant Nina her divorce from Glen, after which she might feel ready to say yes to Simon’s marriage proposal so he could officially become her new husband. New Hampshire law was quite specific: spousal abandonment had to last two years or longer and required a demonstrated, willful desire to desert and terminate the marital relationship. Clearly, Glen’s actions met those criteria. Or maybe he really was dead. Without a body, Nina had no way of knowing, while Maggie continued to hold out hope that her dad would soon return to them.
Nina directed Connor, still lugging the box, down the hallway to the kitchen. At some point, she’d hang her framed family photographs on the bare white walls, just as she had decorated her last home—only this time Glen would not grace any of the images.
With the windows closed, the empty house had turned into a sauna. Sweat beaded up on Nina’s arms, and the cotton of her loose-fitting gray T-shirt stuck to the small of her back. But a tickle of excitement at the prospect of nesting helped her ignore the discomfort. Without the previous owners’ furniture, the rooms appeared smaller than Nina remembered, though it was easy to visualize where she would put her things. The living room curtains would have to be shortened, but first she’d have to find her sewing machine, hidden inside one of those moving boxes.
Returning to the front hall, Nina found Maggie, looking serious, standing in the middle of what would eventually be a small first-floor office. Perhaps she, too, was imagining what the room would look like with furniture in it, though she would have to picture it with Simon’s furnishings in the mix—if she could remember what he owned. Maggie had been to Simon’s house only a few times, even though he lived just on the other side of town.
Before cohabitating, Nina had enjoyed plenty of afternoon delights at Simon’s modest lake home, but she’d never spent the night. There was simply too much heartache, too much sadness, for her to leave the kids alone while pursuing personal pleasures. Still, she was no stranger to Simon’s place, having gone there enough to commit his alarm code to memory.
When the movers came, Maggie would see that Simon had perfectly fine furniture, nothing too fancy, that would mix well with what they already owned. Then again, as Nina was learning, it was much easier to blend furnishings than the people using them.
“I hate it here,” Maggie said, eyes watering, before Nina could utter a single word of comfort. She looked so much like Glen it was sometimes hard for Nina to hold her daughter’s gaze. Maggie had fair skin like her father and the same straw-colored hair, hers descending to the middle of her back. She shared Glen’s snub nose and big round eyes, and her sweet smile could melt the coldest of hearts. She was a slender girl with narrow shoulders and delicate arms. Her long legs were strong from skiing and lacrosse, but like a foal’s, they did not yet fit her body.
Deep breaths, Nina, deep breaths.
“It’s going to be all right, just give it some time.”
“I wish we’d moved in with Nonni and Papa like we’d planned. I’d rather live in Nebraska.”
Before Nina could respond, Simon sauntered into the room carrying a box labeled OFFICE, a smile on his face and sweat dripping into his eyes. Daisy followed him, panting from heat and thirst.
“We’re making great progress—though gotta hand it to Connor,” Simon said, breathing hard, “he’s crazy strong. Football team’s lucky to have him.”