Open House(26)

Haley was so shaken from the fight they’d gotten into this morning over absolutely nothing, but she couldn’t back down. “She can’t even leave now, Dean,” she said. “You’ve blocked her exit.”

Dean grumbled something inaudible and backed up the car. The sound of snow and ice being crushed by tires filled Haley’s ears. She hated winter.

“Sorry,” Dean said again. “Okay? I’m sorry for the fight this morning; I’m sorry for tailgating the woman; I’m sorry about my parking job.”

Haley nodded toward the woman. “She’s the one you should apologize to,” she said. Why couldn’t she ever let anything go?

The top of the driveway was framed by a circle of evergreens, and Josie and Noah’s SUV was parked in the driveway next to a Highlander, still running, beneath a basketball hoop. Haley tried to catch a glimpse of the woman in the Subaru, but all she could see was her black hair high in a bun. The woman was turned at an awkward angle, staring at the Highlander. Maybe the woman was thinking what Haley was, which was that there were more cars than she’d expected to see at an open house on a snowy January morning. Haley really wasn’t looking forward to making small talk with other prospective buyers. She exhaled, turning away from the woman and taking in the house, a cream-colored colonial with shining green shutters, somehow both grand and understated. It was beautiful, exactly as Josie had promised.

Haley turned to Dean. His jaw was tight, and she could see his eyes roving the house. “It’s gorgeous,” Haley said, as close to an apology as she was willing to give him.

“It is,” Dean said, and he turned to face her. The sky was darkening with the storm, and his five-o’clock shadow looked heavier than usual. She tried to smile at him, to let this morning go, but she was still so furious about the fight. She’d been prickly with him all morning—she’d woken up with such an awful feeling after her night dreaming of Emma, and she couldn’t seem to shake it—but then Dean lost his patience and told her to snap out of her foul mood. She’d burst into tears, shouting at him that she should be allowed to be in a foul mood because of what she’d found out about Emma the day before at the precinct. Dean stormed out of the house, saying he had to get groceries before the snow got any worse, and he didn’t come back until it was time to pick her up for the open house.

“Should we even be doing this?” Dean asked gently. The grand house was silhouetted behind him, the snow falling heavily, and the evergreen trees looming.

“What do you mean?” Haley asked, hating the insecurity in her voice. She knew what he meant: Should we really be seeing a potential home right now, after how badly we fought? She could still feel the hoarseness in her throat. “Are you saying we shouldn’t be buying a house together?” A hot prick of tears started behind her eyes.

“No, Haley, that’s not what I’m saying,” Dean said gently. His hands were still wrapped over the steering wheel, like he wasn’t ready to commit to leaving the car. Haley glanced toward the house, half expecting Josie to emerge at any moment through the front door. She turned back to Dean, about to say she was sorry, when she caught sight of the man exiting the Highlander. Reddish-blond hair poked out of a gray wool ski cap, and Haley saw the broad-shouldered body and the way his feet shuffled over the snow. “That’s my anatomy professor,” she said to Dean. “God, how awkward.” She was aware of how young she sounded, like a teenager who’d spotted her teacher in the grocery store. She cleared her throat, hoping Dean hadn’t noticed. There was a six-year age difference between them, and sometimes it felt like more. “Do you think he and his wife are looking at the house?” she asked, watching as Brad moved slowly over the snowy driveway toward the Subaru. Maybe the woman in the Subaru was his wife? Had they come separately?

Dean wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t snapping out of this fight like he did others. “Dean?” Haley asked, and when he finally turned to her, his gaze was wild. “Are you all right?” she asked, studying his face. She was vaguely aware that Brad had stopped outside the Subaru. The woman had to be his wife, Priya the artist, as he’d described her in class.

Dean said he was fine and turned away, staring straight ahead through the swiping wipers. A tuft of his dark hair shot straight up, and Haley wondered why he hadn’t showered today. He was usually so fastidious about his appearance. “We should go in now,” he said, his voice hard. He turned off the ignition and opened the car door.

“Don’t you want your coat?” Haley asked, but he was already standing in the snow.

Haley pulled on a snow hat and pushed open the car door. Cold air prickled her exposed skin, and she glanced nervously toward Brad. “Dr. Aarons?” she called out, trying to sound respectful and friendly and not like a college kid calling out across the quad.

Brad lifted his eyes from the Subaru and did a double take when he saw her. “Haley, hi,” he said. His eyes went from her to Dean, and then he straightened, looking unsure.

They were too far apart to make introductions, so Haley started toward the Subaru because she didn’t know what else to do. She hated awkward social moments like this. “This is my fiancé, Dean,” she said as they neared the car. The woman inside the Subaru still hadn’t opened the door. Her wipers were off, and a thin layer of snow had obscured the windshield.