Soaring (Magdalene #2)(191)

I thanked her for him and was about to prompt him when his attention came back to me.

“I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided not to move to Austin.”

I was annoyed for me. Him in Texas would be a good thing.

I was happy for my kids. They’d get over being upset with him and they needed their dad close. They also needed lives where they weren’t getting on a plane and flying across country every three weeks.

“I think that’s the right decision,” I told him.

“Tammy doesn’t agree,” he muttered.

Ah.

The new one was called Tammy.

“Nothing changes,” I remarked, but it was frustrated, not annoyed. “You worry about what this unknown Tammy would think and not your current wife.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “There’s no reason to make this ugly, Amelia. That’s one of the reasons why I asked you to lunch, so we can bury the hatchet and try to find some middle ground in order that we’re not always at each other’s throats. It’s not good for the kids. And this is more important now that I’m staying in Maine.”

“You’re correct,” I agreed. “However, I will point out that the woman parade isn’t good for the kids either.”

“That’s hardly any of your business,” he told me.

“I’m afraid it is when my boyfriend and his kids are there, as well as my brother, watching along with me as my son loses his mind and rips into his father.”

He said nothing, just focused on preparing his coffee. He took no milk unless it was skim and one sweetener.

Again, boring.

“I can’t tell you to keep it in your pants,” I went on and he lifted his eyes and scowled at me. “But I can ask you not to involve our children in your varied romantic entanglements.”

“It’s likely Tammy and I will be ending things. She’s definitely going to Austin, and I have a practice and two children so a long distance relationship won’t work for me. I’m losing her. The last couple of days haven’t been easy on me, Amelia, and that’s just the icing on the cake. It would be nice if you’d have a mind to that as you sit across the table from the crippled soldier and aim your gun his way. I know you’ve been dying for this opportunity but I’ll still request you holster your weapon.”

He was comparing himself to a crippled soldier?

Really?

“This was a bad idea,” I whispered irately to the table. Definitely irately. Frustration was a memory.

“How is it not a surprise that I’m asking you to be grown up and you can’t manage that?”

I looked back to him. “You are not a crippled soldier, Conrad. You’re a grown man who treats women like dirt.”

“There is a reason I went looking when I had you,” he replied coolly.

I had to admit, I was curious. Just that, curious. I didn’t really care why but I’d always wanted to know what drove him from me. Not that it meant anything anymore but at least I’d have some answers.

So I sat back and flipped out a hand. “There is? Do tell.”

“You were boring.”

I stared.

I was boring?

“You didn’t want anything,” he went on. “You did your fundraisers and you went out with your friends and you doted on the kids but you had no ambition. No drive. You had a degree from arguably the best university in the country and you didn’t do anything with it. Even when the kids got older and you had more time, you just spent more time with your charities, raising money. Martine is a nurse. She has ambition. She was studying to be a nurse practitioner when I met her. She became one. She wants something out of her life.”

“Good for her,” I replied calmly. “However, for me, it might have come early, but I actually had everything I wanted from life. I grew up in a cold home where there was nothing for me but Lawrie. And early on I found a man I loved with everything I had, we made babies, and I had a home we built that was warm and affectionate and loving. I’m sorry you had a problem with me being good with just that until the day I died, Conrad. But that’s your problem. I didn’t hide these were my life’s desires. You knew what you were getting into when you married me because I shared this with you. So frankly, you’re full of shit.”

He looked again to the windows.

I kept addressing him, “And I take it Martine’s out because there’s not much further you can go as a nurse but the sky’s the limit for Tammy the neurologist? Or is she going to be ousted when you meet some woman who wants to be president?”

He didn’t look back to me.

I lowered my voice and leaned into the table. “What I’m saying, Con, is that this is a pattern. These women in your life, they have feelings. They hook their star to you and you scrape them off and that has consequences I know you understand.”

His eyes slid to me.

I kept talking.

“The issue here is you. Not me. Not all the women you banged when you looked for something exciting that wasn’t your boring wife. Or your new boring nurse of a wife. And it won’t be when you do it with your brand new inevitably to become boring neurologist of a whatever-she-comes-to-be. It’s you.”

“Amel—”

I cut him off, “And our son looks to you.”