Too Good to Be True(57)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I WAS WORKING LATE AT MANNING one evening, putting together my presentation for the board of trustees, when Stuart paid me a visit.

“Hey, Stuart!” I exclaimed, getting up to kiss his cheek.

“How are you, Grace?” he asked politely.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Have a seat. Want some coffee or anything?”

“No, thank you. Just a few minutes of your time.”

Stuart looked awful. His eyes were shadowed and tired, and there seemed to be gray in his beard that wasn’t there a few weeks ago. Although we worked at the same school, Stuart’s office was in Caybridge Hall, a newer building on the southern side of the campus, far from Lehring, where the history department nestled appropriately in the oldest building at Manning. I rarely encountered Stuart at work.

I sat back behind my desk and took a deep breath. “You want to talk about Margaret?” I asked softly.

He looked down. “Grace…” He shook his head. “Has she told you why we’re…apart?”

“Um…” I paused, not sure how much I should reveal. “She’s said a few things.”

“I brought up the idea of us having a baby,” Stuart said quietly. “And she basically exploded. Suddenly, it seems, we’re having all sorts of troubles that I was completely unaware of. I’m quite boring, apparently. I don’t talk about work enough. She feels like she’s living with a stranger. Or a brother. Or a ninety-year-old man. We don’t have enough fun, we don’t just grab a toothbrush and rush off to the Bahamas—and here she works seventy hours a week, Grace! If I suggested we fly off somewhere, she’d kill me!”

He certainly had a point. Margaret was mercurial, putting it kindly.

He sighed wearily. “All I wanted was to talk—just talk—about the idea of having a baby. We decided we wouldn’t have kids when we were twenty-five, Grace. That was a long time ago. I figured we could revisit the idea. And now she said she’s filing for divorce.”

“A divorce?” I squeaked. “Oh, crap. I didn’t know that, Stuart.” I was quiet for a minute, then said, “But you know Margaret, buddy. She’s all thunder and lightning. I doubt she really wants…” My voice trailed off. I had no idea what Margaret really wanted. On the one hand, I couldn’t imagine her divorcing Stuart just like that. On the other, she’d always been impulsive. And completely unable to admit when she was wrong.

“What should I do?” he asked, and his voice broke just a little.

“Oh, Stuart.” I got out of my seat and went to him, patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Listen,” I murmured, “one thing she said to me was that…” you only have sex on scheduled days…I grimaced. “Um, maybe things were a little …routine? With you guys? So maybe a little surprise now and again—” on the kitchen table “—wouldn’t be a bad thing. Just sort of to show that you really…noticed her.”

“I do notice her,” he protested, wiping his eyes with one hand the way men do. “I love her, Grace. I’ve always loved her. I don’t understand why that’s not enough.”

Mercifully, my sister wasn’t home when I got there. As Stuart pointed out, she worked a very long day. Bemused, I threw together some dinner, then went upstairs to change for Dancin’ with the Oldies.

Callahan was busy these days at his own house, and I hadn’t seen him since he busted me for spying. I looked out the window at the new shingles on the roof, the curving and lovely little deck in the back. For the past two out the window at the new shingles on the roof, the curving and lovely little deck in the back. For the past two days, he’d been doing something inside, so I hadn’t been able to ogle him. Pity.

“Come on, Angus, buddy. Let’s go,” I said. I got my things and left the house, Angus trotting and leaping with delight at my side. He knew what Mommy’s swirly-twirly skirt meant. I got in the car, put it in Reverse and backed out onto the street as I had done a thousand times before.

Unlike those thousand other times, however, I heard a horrifying metallic crunch.

Callahan’s pickup truck was parked on the street, very close to my driveway. Well, okay, maybe not that close, but having gotten used to a clear runway ever since I’d lived here, I guess I took the turn kind of…yes. Okay. It was my fault.

I got out of the car to inspect the damage. Crap. I guessed that Callahan would be less than amused when I told him I’d just crushed his rear left taillight. Lucky for me, my own car was made of sturdy German stock, and there was only a little scrape where I’d hit the truck.

Glancing at my watch, I sighed, then dutifully trotted down the path to fess up.

I knocked briskly. No answer. “Callahan?” I called. “I just hit your truck!” Nothing. Fine, he was out. I didn’t have a pen, either, dang it, and if I went inside, I’d be late for dancing. I was cutting it close as it was.

He’d have to wait. I ran back down the path, shooed Angus out of the driver’s seat and headed off for Golden Meadows.

As I drove, Angus sitting on my lap, his adorable front paws resting on the steering wheel, I found myself wishing I was the single-mother type. I could just pop into a sperm bank and bingo. No man necessary. Life would be so much simpler.

I drove past the lake. The sun was setting, and a pair of Canada geese cruised in for a landing, their graceful black necks outstretched. The minute they touched water, each swam to the other, checking that the other was safe. Beautiful. That was the kind of tenderness I wanted. Super. I was now envying geese.