Return to Virgin River (Virgin River #19)(40)

“It must be cathartic.”

“Sometimes. I’ve written a few terrible husbands named Dick or Richard or Rick or Dax.” She beamed. “Once he was Zach.”

“I bet they had some familiar qualities...”

“Oh yes. Sometimes they died, depending on how I was feeling about him at the time. They always got tripped up by their arrogance and self-centeredness. And it makes me better somehow. Once I write about it, I develop some understanding.”

“Does your ex-husband ever redeem himself?” Landry asked.

“Sadly, no. Thus he is forever punished.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” he said, laughing.

“Oh, I honestly don’t personalize those quirks of plot. If you piss me off, I might name a very bad doctor Dr. Landry. Or maybe just an incompetent pilot. Not an evil person, just a stupid one.”

“And I might make an ugly pot shaped like your head.”

She laughed happily. “Talk like that and you could end up a serial killer!”

“How long have you been writing these books about killers?” he asked.

“Since I started. It was my favorite genre when I was learning and you should always write what you want to read. I like the edginess of a great suspense novel, like a really good J.T. Ellison.”

“Who?”

She shook her head. “You have homework to do.”

“I might just read a few Kaylee Sloans.”

“There you go. If I’m worth my salt, you’ll sleep with one eye open while I’m renting your little house. Oh, by the way, Jack’s having a Halloween party on the thirty-first. I’m planning to go. Are you?”

“I’ve stopped by a few town parties. I’ll probably go.”

“I suppose you know everyone.”

“I did grow up here.”

“What was it like, growing up here?”

“It was good,” he said. “I had fun. I had friends, although like I said, I was a little too serious. I played ball, went to school things, got good grades. But almost every kid who grows up in a quiet small town can’t wait to get to the real life in the city, and that was me. I went away to college, missed my dad and my friends, came home when I could. Then after Laura went to Hollywood and hardly came back, I gave up the city and moved back here and had a whole new appreciation for it. I think it’s the people. The air, the quiet and the people who stand up for each other.”

“I didn’t expect to make friends here,” she said. “I expected to be a different kind of lonely.”

His brow wrinkled. “Different from what?”

“From the kind of lonely I was in Newport. There were lots of people around but there was only one I wanted—my mother. I ached with loneliness.

“My mom and I didn’t live together after I went to college. Oh, there were a few months here and there—while I was waiting for a new apartment to become available or after my divorce while I looked for my own place, just temporary situations. Then when she got sick, I moved home to be with her. After she died, the house became mine, but it was always her house. I couldn’t seem to escape the feeling that I’d just lost her, surrounded by her decorating and her things. That’s why I looked for a getaway. And I’ll go back to that house. It’s a wonderful house with an office on the second floor that looks out to the ocean. It has a large backyard and a pool. I can walk to the beach from there. I want to live in that house again. I just hope I’m stronger when I do.”

“You seem pretty strong now,” he said. “Don’t worry too much, Kaylee. That immediate, crushing feeling of loss will pass. You’ll always miss her. But you’ll start to feel better.”

“Is that how it was for you?” she asked.

“Yes. It took a while, but eventually... Yes, that’s how it is.”





* * *



The next day Landry had an appointment with Brie Valenzuela, Jack’s sister, and a local attorney with a small practice. She opened the door for him to come in, a smile on her face. “So good to see you. I’m glad you called, but I’m confused. You need a divorce?”

“That’s right,” he said, shaking her proffered hand. “I’ll explain.”

He had a seat in front of her desk and laid it out quickly, eleven years married, ten separated. “Laura visited recently and I told her I was done being legally bound and that I’d like it to be official. I’ve been thinking of her as an ex-wife for years. We’re still on very good terms. We’re friends. But we haven’t lived together for a decade.”

“How do you plan to handle the settlement? Will her attorney be contacting me?”

“I doubt there will be any kind of settlement. We’ve both paid our own way since she moved out.”

“You haven’t paid any support or alimony?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing?”

“No. I gave her a few loans that she never repaid, but I wasn’t expecting repayment. Her life as an actress went hot and cold—she’d have a good season followed by waiting for work followed by another role. It wasn’t steady. Thus the loans. She’d need money for rent or to get her by till her next check or for some special thing that would help her in her business. Like, once it was dental work. Very expensive. I helped if I could.”