told you…”
“You told me you were busy. You were always busy. You couldn’t have spared a few hours?”
“Why? You didn’t need me there to tell you what a fantastic job you’d done for the university and how much they were going to miss you. I’m sure you heard it over and over from everyone else. Your ego just couldn’t get enough.”
His eyes narrowed. “Maybe so, but it would have been nice to hear it from you. It would have been nice to hear something from you. Instead I got a card from you saying ‘Good Luck.’ You weren’t sorry to see me go, you were relieved.”
“Don’t tell me what I was. You have no idea what I felt.” He couldn’t know how it hurt to see him packing up and driving away. She wasn’t made of stone. Not then, anyway. They were getting into dangerous territory by rehashing old problems now. She wasn’t proud of how she’d acted the day he left or what she’d done to close the chapter on their life together.
“Look, Jack, now’s really not the time to get into what happened then. It’s history,” she said. “All I ask is next time you join a dig I’m on just let me know.”
“Why, so you can back out again?”
That was exactly what she’d do. What she should have done this time. But it was too late now, so she’d better make the best of it. “Why would I do that?” she asked casually. “The past is in the past. We had some good times, we worked well together. There’s no reason why we can’t do it again.” Don’t mention the bad times. Don’t even go there.
Olivia was proud of herself. She sounded so rational, so over Jack. If she thought she was, it took ten minutes to tell her she wasn’t. It was all this pent-up emotion, all the bottled-up anger. And maybe some unfinished business. If only she could stop trembling on the inside. Stop the memories from crowding in on her.
“That’s good to know,” he said calmly. “It will make the summer easier for both of us. All it takes is an ability to separate the brain from the emotions.”
How many times had she heard him say that? She used to say it wasn’t possible, while he insisted it was. Why argue? Arguing with Jack was pointless and painful. No one won. Everyone lost. “Nothing to it,” she agreed.
“Now that we’ve settled that.” He sat next to her and stretched his legs out in front of him as if they were casual acquaintances instead of a married couple who’d been at each other’s throats a few minutes ago with recriminations and accusations.
How could he be so nonchalant? Because he didn’t care. He’d moved on. Really moved on. She had to show him she’d done the same. She felt his eyes on her. He was scrutinizing her as if he were trying to classify her. Late Roman or Hellenistic. “You look better,” he said.
“Thanks,” she muttered. But she wondered, did he mean better than a few minutes ago or better than two years ago? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking. What did it matter what he thought? Their marriage was over. “It’s good we’re working together again,” he said. “One more time.”
One more time? And then what? Would he sign those papers? Was he even going to acknowledge getting them? As of now he was treating her as if she was just another team member he had to work with. A difficult team member who had to be humored. Not someone who’d meant everything to him. Or so he’d said. Now she was someone who had to be treated carefully or she’d fly off the handle. It shouldn’t bother her. But it did. She couldn’t go on being tied to him legally but living apart.
She wanted to shake him. She wanted to scream, We met on this island. Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We’re married. But in name only. You have to admit it’s over. We can’t go on like this. Sign the papers. Let’s stop pretending. Of course she didn’t. “I read your article in Archaeology Digest,” she said, desperately looking to change the subject. “Interesting conclusion.” She didn’t say wrong conclusion, but that’s what she meant and he knew it.
His eyes glittered like the blue Aegean. Jack loved a challenge. That much hadn’t changed. “That means you don’t agree with me, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“That the Age of the Pharaohs was brought about by climate change? That’s ridiculous. You have no proof.”
“Nobody has proof of anything. I thought I made a good case for it.”
She shook her head. “In your dreams.”
“Then what’s your theory? Or haven’t you got one?”
“Does it matter?” she asked.
“Of course it does. We always had some good discussions. No reason to quit now. I value your opinion, you know that.” He put his arm on the back of the bench where it brushed against her shoulders. A small gesture, so familiar that it caused an ache that spread all the way to her heart. If he valued her opinions so much, why hadn’t he asked for them in the two years he’d been gone? She’d barely heard a word from him.
He’d reminded her of the heated discussions they’d had about work, yes. Those were stimulating. But about their personal problems? No one mentioned those. That subject was off-limits. They’d both said things they shouldn’t have. Things that left wounds too deep to forget. At least for her.
Suddenly the summer stretched ahead of her like a long road full of potholes. Dangerous, deep holes a person could fall into and never get out of. She’d have to try to ignore Jack as much as possible. She could talk to him if it was about work. She’d be walking a tightrope for more than two months. But she could do it. She had to.
If she could walk the tightrope and not fall off, she could get a lot out of this dig. There was the chance of finding an important tomb on this island, buried under thousands of years of civilization. She would get an article out of it, maybe a book. She would get along with Jack. She would forget the past. But right now he was so close she could smell the same citrus aftershave he always wore. He was too close for comfort.
She shifted away from him. She had to treat Jack like a colleague and nothing more. Just the way she treated everyone else on this dig, including Marilyn Osborne, a middle-aged archaeologist from the University of Pittsburgh who was ambling toward them across the deck.
“How are you feeling?” she asked Olivia.
“Fine, thank you,” she said stiffly. She did not want anyone to think she had any health problems.
“As Homer said, ‘Beware the stormy seas of May.’ Have you been to the island before?” Marilyn asked.
Olivia exchanged a brief glance with Jack. What was she supposed to say? What had he already said?
“Well, yes, a few years ago,” she said. “Very intriguing site. I’m looking forward to getting back.”
Jack stood. “I’m going to the snack bar. Can I bring you something, Marilyn?”
Marilyn shook her head.
He turned to Olivia. “More tea, sweetheart?”
She bit her lip. How dare he call her sweetheart. If she could have kicked him in the shin without Marilyn noticing, she would have.
“No, thank you,” she said. How like him to skip out
