me, I know the feeling.” He leaned forward, surprising her with a quick kiss on her cheek. “Pick you up Saturday?” It really didn’t make sense for them to drive separately to Lilah’s duplex just to pile into Tanner’s car once they arrived.
Rachel nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.” She really was, not only to the fun of shopping and laughing with Lilah, but to being in David’s company again soon.
Which meant either she and David were the most mature, well-adjusted couple ever to split or that her romantic feelings for her husband hadn’t cooled nearly as much as she’d let herself believe.
WALKING into the house was like taking a one-way trip to Rachel’s past. She set her keys on the dented antique table in the front hall—they’d bought it for a great price at this little flea market because of scratches on the surface. David had wanted to restore it, but she liked the imperfections, thought they provided more character than a glossy veneer could. The silence echoed around her, unnatural. Had it always been so quiet here? She’d grown accustomed to the considerable background noise at Winnie’s house. Here, there were no animals, only wall-to-wall memories.
She slid out of her shoes and went straight to the kitchen. Despite grappling with nausea these days, she was starving. Some men living on their own might have cupboards devoid of anything but basic guy staples, but the refrigerator boasted a huge selection of produce, marinated chicken breasts, organic eggs, three types of fruit juice and a nearly full gallon of milk. The freezer was also stocked with an array of choices. She made herself a three-egg omelet with mushrooms, cheese, peppers, broccoli florets and a side of whole-grain toast. Afterward, when she was pleasantly stuffed, she decided she should work on the scrapbook she and Ari planned to give Lilah and Tanner at their rehearsal dinner.
It had been Arianne’s idea, although Rachel freely admitted that not only did her sister-in-law take lousy pictures—half of which included her thumb over the lens—she was no good at arranging them artfully. “You have an eye for these things,” Ari had wheedled.
“In other words, you’re hoping I’ll do all the work,” Rachel had translated with a laugh.
“In a nutshell.”
With Quinn’s help, the two of them had been surreptitiously gathering pictures from half the people in town. Rachel would be shocked if Lilah and Tanner hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Mistletonians weren’t known for their ability to keep secrets. Rachel had an assortment of childhood pictures, sweetheart photos from when the couple had first dated back in high school, individual milestone shots, such as college graduations and Lilah’s first day teaching, and more recent mementos from the previous year, when they’d rekindled their romance. Even though Rachel had been happy to help with the project, she’d been procrastinating. Laying out a visual representation of another couple’s romance while her own was in decline had been difficult.
Now just the opposite was happening. Sure, there was a melancholy twinge when she looked at the timeline of Lilah and Tanner’s love spread out across her coffee table, but staring at their memories, she was also caught up in her own. Good ones. As she cut and glued and sorted through her collection of stamps and die-cut embellishments, she found herself unconsciously whistling again. She paused, replaying the melody in her mind to figure out what it was.
“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.”
Just as she was debating turning on the radio versus the television for background noise, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” David said. “I just wanted to let you know there’s a rerun of Lost on TV tonight.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.”
“It’s a repeat, but I’m pretty sure it’s that one you missed last fall.”
Because she’d misprogrammed the VCR, she remembered, taping an hour’s worth of some completely random channel. “That’s sweet, David, but I caught that episode. Watched it online.”
There was a pause. “You saw it without me?” They’d watched the show together from the very first episode, speculating during commercials, each having different theories about where the storylines were going and how to tell when Ben was lying (when his lips were moving).
“Sorry,” she said, meaning it. Funny with everything that each of them could legitimately regret about their relationship how bad she suddenly felt about watching an hour of television alone. “You haven’t seen it?”
“No. It’s on in about ten minutes. I was planning to get the dogs settled and sit down with a sandwich for dinner.”
“I’ll turn it on, too,” she decided. “You know how that show is. There are always clues you miss the first time around.”
Once they got off the phone, she got the remote control out of the side pocket of David’s recliner and found the right channel. During the second commercial break, David called to ask her if the episode was going to conclude the way he thought—it wasn’t—and then laughingly argued with her when she refused to tell him how it did end.
“Just wait and see,” she teased. “I kind of like you not having all the answers for a change.”
“Gee, thanks.” The casual affection in his tone belied his words. “Have you been taking brat lessons from Ari?”
“I’m hanging up on you now,” she informed him. “Show’s coming back on.”
Half an hour later, he called back during another commercial break trying to remember where he’d seen one of the guest actors before.
“You know, that’s the sort of thing you could find in about thirty seconds on the Internet,” she pointed out, holding her breath. Would he tell her that the calls weren’t just about the show? Perhaps he looked forward to talking to her the same way she was looking forward to seeing him again on Saturday.
“Yeah, but if I go online, I’m going to look up the episode and see how it ends. I have no willpower.”
She snorted, thinking of his dedicated jogging regimen and the way he pursued goals with determination. “What a crock.”
“Well.” His voice went lower. “I have more self-discipline when it comes to some things than others.”
She sat a little straighter on the couch. “Really?”
“Really. I keep entertaining these thoughts that I tell myself are inappropriate, but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking them.” He paused. “Anything like that ever happen to you?”
Only whenever she saw him. Or heard his voice. Or thought of him. “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”
“Any tips on how to handle it?”
Oh, sure—the one time David asked for advice from her, she was clueless what to tell him. “You got me.”
“All evidence to the contrary.” He said it lightly, but there was a noticeable undercurrent.
He misses me. Whether his feelings were spawned by learning about the baby or by the fragile new peace between them or by nostalgia from the preparations for the upcoming wedding, she didn’t doubt that the emotion was legitimate.
