Part-Time Husband Read online

  “I’m not disappointed.”

  I’m confused and still rattled and strangely fluttery but definitely not disappointed.

  “So you’ll come to the lake with us today?”

  “Oh.” I check his expression, and he looks mostly casual, but there’s also something else, something waiting, like my answer will matter to him. “I guess so, if you don’t mind my crashing the party.”

  His face relaxes, and I realize that this is the answer he wanted. He actually wants me to go with him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I hadn’t wanted you to come.”

  “Okay. I will then. Your parents won’t mind?”

  “They’ll be thrilled.” He clears his throat. “You, uh, will have to put up with some talk from my mom. She’s probably going to say things about us.”

  “About us?”

  “About you and me. About how we’re in love and all that. Just smile and nod and let her talk.”

  I feel my cheeks growing warm. “I thought you told your parents the truth about us.”

  “I did. But my mom is... a mom. She’s going to think what she wants to think. Just smile and nod and ignore it. She’s really pretty nice. I think you’ll like her if you can deal with... that kind of talk.”

  I have no idea how to respond to that, so I just say, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  AT TEN O’CLOCK, WE leave and head toward Trevor’s parents’ place. Since it’s a warm day, I’m wearing casual brown capris and a fitted T-shirt, and I’m strangely nervous about the whole outing.

  And I’m not sure if I’m more nervous about meeting his parents or the fact that Trevor asked me to go with him.

  His parents live in a condo in a fifty-plus neighborhood about twenty minutes away from our apartment. Trevor parks in the driveway and comes around the car to walk to the door with me.

  His mother runs out before we’re halfway up the sidewalk. She’s small and spry and silver-haired and smiling, and she has Trevor’s brown eyes.

  “You finally brought her!” she exclaims, giving Trevor a quick hug before turning to me. “I’ve told him over and over again that he needs to bring you with him on Saturdays, and here he finally did. I’m Doris, dear. And I know you’re Melissa.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  She gives me a hug. “I’ve been waiting so long to meet you. You’re an answer to prayers.”

  I have no idea what to make of that. I glance over at Trevor, and he mouths, “Smile and nod,” over his mother’s shoulder.

  So I do. I smile and nod at Doris, and she hugs me again.

  We go inside, where Trevor’s father is sitting in what looks like an elaborate lift recliner. He’s clearly not as demonstrative as his wife is, but he grins at me and waves, giving me a gruff, “How d’you do? I’m Mike.”

  “I’m very happy to meet you, sir.” (I don’t always stand on ceremony, but it seems only polite to say sir and ma’am to Trevor’s parents.)

  “Sorry I can’t stand up. It’s not too easy for me to get up anymore.”

  I realize how true this is when Trevor brings over a large walker and places it in front of his father’s chair. Then Mike raises the lift in his chair and slowly moves from the recliner to lean on his walker.

  “He’s had two back surgeries in the past five years,” Doris says, coming to stand beside me. “They say there’s nothing more they can do for him. But he still can get around when he needs to.”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  They obviously have a routine in this because Trevor is already walking ahead to open the front door of the condo while Doris goes into the kitchen to pick up a picnic basket. I offer to carry it, but she won’t let me. When his dad reaches the front door, Trevor goes to open the front passenger door of his SUV.

  When his dad is in the car, Trevor comes back into the condo and picks up a couple of lawn chairs that are set out. There’s a blanket next to it, so I carry that. He gives me a little smile. “They don’t waste any time in getting to the lake.”

  “I can see that.”

  “My dad loves to fish, but he can’t get to the lake unless I take him.”

  “Yes.”

  “He has to take the front seat. He can’t get into the back.”

  “Of course. That’s totally fine.”

  “Everyone ready?” Doris asks brightly, coming up behind us with a large embroidered purse.

  “All set,” Trevor says.

  Then we’re off.

  WHEN WE REACH THE LAKE, it becomes obvious why his parents rely on Trevor to take them. His father can’t sit in just any folding lawn chair. He has a large, heavy one that Trevor sets up for him. Then he helps his father get from his walker into it. His mother sits in the second chair, and Trevor and I sit on the blanket we spread out on the grass.

  The lake is large, and there’s a small sandy beach area, but we set up on the opposite side, on a grassy clearing between some trees where there aren’t as many people. There’s plenty of sun and shade, and the picnic Doris packed of chicken salad sandwiches, fruit salad, pretzels, and brownies is delicious.

  After we eat, Trevor moves his father over to the edge of the lake so he can fish, and Doris smiles at the men from where she and I are sitting.

  “I’m so glad you were able to come today,” she tells me, speaking softly so only I can hear.

  “I am too.” I’m not just being polite. I mean it. His parents are kind and personable, and it’s fascinating for me to imagine that Trevor came from them.

  “I don’t know why Trevor wouldn’t bring you before. I don’t know what he was worried about.”

  I can clearly see what he might have been worried about. It’s an awkward situation, bringing our part-time marriage into his family life. I’d feel the same way if most of my family didn’t already know exactly why I married Trevor.

  When I don’t respond with anything but a smile, Doris goes on, “Every day I thank God that he brought you into Trevor’s life. You’ve been so good for him.”

  I grow still, a smile frozen on my face.

  Doris is evidently the kind of person who doesn’t need a lot of verbal cues from her conversational partners. She continues as happily as before despite my silence. “We were so worried about him when he was in New York. Not that there’s anything wrong with him living in such a big city. But it always seemed like he was... he was trying to be someone he isn’t. You know what I mean?”

  “I think so,” I say slowly. I want to hear more, but I’m not sure if I should. It feels private, like it might be something Trevor doesn’t want me to hear.

  “All those expensive clothes and that expensive car he bought. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with it, but it was like he was always trying to prove something. He had a hard time growing up. I guess he’s told you about it.”

  “He’s told me some.”

  “Oh, kids teased him unmercifully after he got the scholarship to that private school. Most of the kids there were from well-to-do families, and we’d just recently taken a step up from a trailer. Kids can be so cruel, and poor Trevor was always trying to fight back, stick up for us.” She shook her head. “He worked so hard to do well at school and go to college, and we’ve always been so proud of him. I guess it makes sense that he’d want to prove his worth to everyone who always doubted him. But his father and I always knew he was worthy. He never had to prove anything to us.”

  I’m breathing faster now, flustered in that way I don’t really know what to do with. I manage to say, “He seems like a really good son.”

  “Oh, he is. He bought us our condo, even though that meant he couldn’t take out a mortgage on a place of his own. He moved back to Charleston for us. He’ll never admit it, of course, but I know he did, when his father’s back got so bad. He left that job in New York that paid so much, and then he had to start his own business here that doesn’t earn him nearly so much.”

  “He’s doing quite well for himself. He really is.”

 
; “Oh, I’m sure that’s true. He’s so smart at everything he does. I hated for him to give up a good job, but I really do think he’s happier here. He still tries to act like he’s above things, but he seems more like himself. And ever since he’s married you, he’s been like a new man.” She reaches over to pat my arm. “He’s so in love with you, dear. Just head over heels in every way. He tries to hide it and act cool like he’s always done, but a mother knows. I never thought I’d see the day, but it finally came.”

  I swallow hard. My blood is pulsing with something between anxiety and excitement. I want to hear what she’s saying—I want it—even though I know it can’t possibly be right.

  “Did I embarrass you, dear?” Doris asks with a little giggle.

  “Oh, no. It’s not—I mean, it’s just that...”

  “Don’t worry, dear. I know this silly nonsense about the marriage not being a normal one—about your grandpa and job and all that—but that doesn’t change what I can see right in front of my eyes. He’s not admitting it to anyone yet. Maybe not even to himself. But that boy has fallen hard for you. At last.”

  I feel momentarily trapped, any possible words caught in my throat. My eyes shift nervously over to Trevor, who’s sitting on a large rock next to his father. Both of them are fishing.

  But right at this moment, he turns his head to look at me, and he must see something in my expression. He looks at his mother, his brows lowering slightly, and then back at me. He mouths again, “Smile and nod.”

  Right. Smile and nod.

  That’s what I have to do.

  I smile and nod at Doris, who smiles and nods right back.

  She pats my arm again and says, “God bless you, dear.”

  To my relief (and also just a little disappointment), she’s evidently done talking for now. She reaches into her large purse and pulls out some knitting. She hums as she starts to work on it.

  I’ve brought my e-reader, so I pick it up and stretch out on the blanket to read.

  An hour or so passes pleasantly. I don’t think Trevor or his father catch any fish, but it doesn’t seem to matter to them. Doris occasionally makes a comment, but after a while she dozes off.

  I feel relaxed now. And I enjoy my book.

  No one has talked for a long time when Doris evidently wakes up. The first thing she says is, “Oh, dear, maybe you should move into the shade. You’re going to get sunburned.”

  I’ve been lying in the sun, enjoying the warmth, but I smile at her comment.

  She’s a mother. It’s what a mother would say.

  I wonder, if my mother had lived, whether she would say the same thing to me, even though I’m twenty-eight now.

  I’ll never know. I’ll never know what it’s like to have my parents as an adult the way Trevor does. I’ll never know whether I’d be a good daughter to them the way he’s a good son.

  It hurts me, in that deep wave of grief that still occasionally surprises me.

  I feel a little shaky from it as I smile at Doris. “I actually think I might stretch my legs a little. But I’ll try to stay in the shade.”

  I don’t particularly need to walk. I just want to get away for a minute.

  My parents died when I was fourteen. I shouldn’t still be feeling this way—like it’s a loss that’s still new.

  I hate feeling emotional this way.

  I walk until I’m out of sight. There’s no one else on this side of the lake, so I can be alone. I find a place to stand on the edge of the water, and I stare out at it, trying to take the pain, face it, and breathe it out the way Trevor told me to that night after Sunday supper.

  It helped then. Maybe it will help now.

  “What’s the matter?” a familiar voice comes from behind me.

  I jerk in surprise, but I know who it is. Trevor. “Nothing.”

  “Melissa.”

  “It’s really nothing.”

  “Did my mom say something? I told you she was—”

  “No, no. She’s great. Both of them are great.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  Sometimes I wish I could hide from him, but he never lets me.

  He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me against the front of his body. “Tell me,” he says against my ear.

  I’m tense in his embrace, and the pain is still shuddering inside me, somehow made realer and more poignant because Trevor can see it.

  “Jesus, baby, you’re killing me here. What hurt you so much in just a few minutes?”

  “It’s... it’s...” I’m trying to tell him. I really am. I’m shaking helplessly.

  He tilts his head down and nuzzles my hair, my neck. “Breathe it out first.”

  Inhale. Exhale. Then slower. Deeper. I can blow the worst of it out with every breath.

  When I stop shaking, I turn around and wrap my arms around him, pressing my body against his. He lets out a little groan and raises one arm so his hand is cupping the back of my head. “That’s right,” he murmurs. “Let me help you.”

  “You are,” I say against his shirt.

  He holds me for a few minutes until I’m able to speak. I turn my head so my cheek is resting against his shoulder, and I say, “It’s really nothing. I mean, nothing big.”

  “I want to hear what it is anyway.”

  “Your mom was... she was being nice, telling me I need to get in the shade so I don’t get a sunburn. And I... She... It made me wish I still had a mother, that I had parents who are alive like yours are.” I take a ragged breath. “I told you it was just a little thing. I don’t know why it hit me so hard. They’ve been dead for fourteen years, but every once in a while, it feels like... like I can’t stand that they’re gone.”

  His arms tighten around me, and I need it. I need it.

  “I told you it was nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” Trevor leans down to rub his face against my hair. “You know, I used to have a dog when I was growing up. I got him when I was eight, and he died when I was twenty-three. I loved that dog more than anything. It’s been more than ten years since he died, and I still get hit out of the blue by the memory of him. And it hurts like hell. Still. He was a dog, Melissa. He wasn’t my parents. It’s not nothing.”

  I’ve pulled back to look at him as he speaks, and I nod when he meets my eyes at the end.

  He cups my face in one hand, and I lean into his warm palm.

  “I didn’t know you were a dog person,” I say.

  The corner of his mouth lifts as he drops his hand. “I am.”

  “Why don’t you have a dog?”

  “I would, but I work so much that I’d hate to leave one alone so much. I’ll get another one eventually.” He pauses and reaches up again, this time to brush a strand of hair back behind my ear. “Are you okay now?”

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  I am.

  I’m good because of him.

  THAT NIGHT, I’M READING in bed like normal. It’s almost ten thirty, and Trevor is in the shower.

  I’m feeling weird.

  Weird and fluttery.

  Weird and fluttery and nervous.

  We all left the lake at around five o’clock, and we stopped at a Pop’s Home Cooking for an early dinner (Doris’s idea). When Trevor and I got back home, we had a glass of wine and watched a movie on the couch.

  And now I’m in bed.

  Everything about today has been good, and yet I feel like something is wrong. Something I need to get ahold of soon or everything will spin out of control.

  I haven’t pulled myself together when Trevor climbs into bed beside me.

  I’m staring down at my e-reader, although I’m not processing any of the words.

  I can feel him watching me, and finally I look over at him.

  He smiles slowly.

  Then he reaches over, gently removes my e-reader from my hands, and stretches his arm out enough to put it on my nightstand.

  “Wh—”

  He kisses me before I can compl
ete even one word.

  The kiss is soft, sweet, and I respond to it immediately. I want to feel him this way. I want to touch him all over. I want to know he’s with me, with me as deeply as two people can get.

  He moves on top of me as we kiss, and I know he’s ready for sex. I can feel the tension in his body even though the kiss isn’t urgent at all.

  It feels... almost tender.

  If Trevor were hot and dirty like he often is, then I probably could lose myself in sensations and enjoy it. But this...

  This is something else.

  He hasn’t said a word, but it feels like something else to me.

  And I more than want it.

  I need it.

  I need it so badly my body and mind and heart and everything is pulling toward him, straining toward him, trying desperately to reach him.

  I need him.

  Wanting I can do, but I can’t need him.

  It’s too dangerous.

  I just can’t.

  I turn my head away from the kiss.

  He grows still, braced above me on his arms.

  “Sorry,” I finally say when the silence and my own feelings tie a painful knot in my gut.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. I’m just... I’m just not sure I’m in the mood tonight.”

  “Why not?”

  “What do you mean, why not? I’m just not. I have a little headache, and I’m kind of tired. Most people don’t have sex every night, you know.”

  “We do.”

  “For a month.” My voice cracks because I’m so afraid that he’ll be able to see on my face everything I’m feeling. “We can’t keep that up indefinitely. I mean, even a stallion like you has to take a break eventually.” Then I remember something else that might help. “We just had sex this morning.”

  He exhales and rolls over onto his side of the bed, his head turned in my direction.

  “It’s not a problem, is it?” I ask.

  “Of course not. I never want to have sex unless you’re into it too. It just feels like...”

  My heart is racing painfully, and I know I have to play this exactly right. He’s watching me. His body appears relaxed, but I know he’s still watching me. He’s so smart, so observant.