A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(17)

His thinking became sluggish. He rested the weight of his head in his hands and stared at the red Formica tabletop visible between his fingers. It looked like blood.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Gwen jumped. The stupid bell with its heavy clapper reverberated through her skull. She was still recovering from her extra glass of wine the night before. Today was Valentine's Day and she'd meant to pick up a few bottles, but all the tension between John Gordon and Lance had driven it from her mind.

Afternoon light from a picture window fell in beams on the bar spotlighting the owner. He spoke into a phone but wiggled his fingers at her in acknowledgment. She walked over to a wall of red wines. Most of the time when she shopped here, Mo followed her from shelf to shelf giving her more information than she wanted about his wares. It was a relief to wander without the education.

What should she bring Maricela? A pinot? She ran her finger over a row of pinot noirs. Maricela's daughter, Julissa, was Emily's favorite babysitter. She was old enough to be responsible, but not old enough to be boy crazy. Usually, she came to Gwen and Art's house, but tonight Emily was spending the night at the Alvarez home. Julissa would take cash. Maricela wouldn't, but she never looked a gift bottle of wine in the mouth.

Jason had an overnight event with his youth group from church, and Tyler was invited to a sleepover at a friend's house. Realizing two of her three children were away on Valentine's Day night, Gwen called Julissa. She and Art had been fighting so much lately, she wanted to make amends, make the evening special.

She selected a pinot noir for Maricela then turned down the aisle with the red blends. She picked out two bottles of her favorite, a Meritage from a small vineyard on the Central Coast. It wasn't easy to find. The Leaky Barrel was the only place that carried it locally. The name was appropriate considering the effect it had on Art the last time they'd shared a bottle. It was called Ravish.

She remembered that night well, because it was also the last time she and Art had sex. Things had been rocky between them for at least a year. The busier she got at work, the more they argued. But somehow, at least two or three times a month, they'd scheduled a date night, made up and made love.

Once he took on the principal job, it seemed they had no time to do anything but argue. And, the arguments were worse. He expected her to support his career decision, even though he hadn't consulted her about it. And, he wanted her to scale back her career, which was just beginning to take off. He seemed to think she should drop everything whenever he needed her as arm candy on campus. She didn't expect him to hold her hand at Humboldt.

But, she missed him. She missed the closeness, the friendship. She could count on one hand the number of times they'd had sex since September. She wanted to roll back the clock. Reconnect. She loved Art even though they weren't seeing eye to eye. She believed he loved her.

Valentine's Day seemed the perfect time to offer him an olive branch. She'd bought his favorite finger foods and planned a picnic in the living room in front of the fireplace. That had been their rendezvous spot for years, until Jason walked in on them one night.

Art was a lowly English teacher then, and he couldn't get enough of her. They hadn't been indecent, just making out like a couple of kids. They'd made lighthearted jokes about it scarring their son for life. They'd laughed about it with close friends. They acted like it was nothing, but they'd boxed up their love life in the four walls of their bedroom after that. Now it was gasping for oxygen.

Gwen brought her purchases to the front of the shop. "Anything else?" The owner smiled. His front teeth were too small in for his incisors. It made his face look like Rocket's when the kids got too close to his rawhide bone.

"Just these." Gwen put her bottles on the counter.

"A lovely blend and it ages well. It's a particular favorite of mine," he said when he rang up the Ravish.

"Yes, it's very good."

"You know what they say, wine and women improve with age."

The words struck Gwen like a slap. She took her bag from his outstretched hand, turned on her heel and walked out the door. Her fortieth birthday was fast approaching, March fifth. Less than a month away. Every reminder filled her with a sense of dread.

She knew it was because of what happened on her mother's fortieth. Gwen told herself over and over, her life wasn't like her mother's. She wasn't like her mother. What happened to her mother couldn't happen to her. She wouldn't allow it to. But the feeling of impending doom persisted.

Her mother had cooked her own birthday dinner that night—chicken, baked potatoes and broccoli. Gwen's father never took them out. He always said, why eat in a restaurant when the best chef in the county lived in his own house. That made her mom smile, but Gwen thought secretly she'd have enjoyed a meal out once in a while.

For dessert, her mother made her famous chocolate layer cake. Gwen bought a pack of candles with her allowance on her way home from school, sneaked into the kitchen during dinner and placed four on its top. Her mother had been so surprised when she'd carried the flaming cake into the dining room singing Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs. It was the last time Gwen could remember seeing her look truly happy.

Later when Gwen got in bed, her parents each came into her room separately to tuck her in. One of the things that stood out most in her memory was how unusually affectionate her father had been. He'd kissed her forehead, smoothed her hair, and told her she was special to him before turning out the light. After he had closed the door, Gwen burrowed under her covers with a flashlight and a book.