This Matter Of Marriage

“I know better than that.” Steve experienced a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t intentionally asked his nine-year-old if his mother was dating. Kenny had been talking about joining a softball team in the spring, all excited about playing shortstop. He’d wanted his mother to toss him a few balls, he’d told Steve, but she couldn’t because she was getting ready for a date. The kid had Steve’s full attention at that point. It hadn’t taken much to get Kenny to tell him Mary Lynn was seeing Kip somebody or other.

What the hell kind of name was Kip, anyway? Sounded like a guy who traipsed around in ballet slippers.

“So, what’d you find out?”

Steve ignored the question. He didn’t like thinking about Mary Lynn dating another man, let alone talking about it. What had happened between them was painful even now, a full year after their divorce. An idea struck him suddenly, and he marveled at the genius of it. “I wonder if Mary Lynn might consider filling in here at the office until I can hire another secretary.”

“She hates it here,” Todd muttered. He sipped his coffee, seeming to savor every drop. “You know that.”

What his friend said was true, but Steve welcomed the opportunity to spend time with her. She might even tell him about Kip. “It couldn’t hurt to ask,” he returned, sorry now that he’d said anything to Todd.

“You’re divorced.”

“Thanks, I guess I must’ve forgotten.” Steve glared at him, hoping his sarcasm hit its mark.

“It’s time to move on, old buddy. Mary Lynn has.”

Steve rose abruptly from his chair. “Shouldn’t you get to work?”

“All right, so I touched a raw nerve. No reason to bite my head off.” Todd hurried back to the shop, and Steve swallowed his irritation. Damn it, he still loved Mary Lynn. No one had told him how painful this divorce business would be.

They’d been married twelve years and fool that he was, Steve had assumed they were happy. Then, one day out of the blue, Mary Lynn had started crying. When he’d tried to find out what was wrong, she couldn’t say—except that she was unhappy. They’d married too young, she’d missed out on all the fun, all the carefree years, and now here she was, stuck with a husband, kids, responsibilities. Steve tried to understand her concerns, but everything he said and did only made matters worse. The thing that really got him was her claim that she’d never had her own bedroom. As it turned out, that was more important than he’d realized, because she asked him to move out of theirs shortly afterward.

Steve had called her bluff, firmly believing it was a bluff. He’d voluntarily moved out of the house, thinking that would help her “find herself,” something she apparently couldn’t do with him there. She needed to make contact with her “inner child,” become “empowered” or some other such garbage. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the most sensitive man in the world. She became incensed when he suggested she was watching too many of those daytime talk shows. Then, a month or so after he’d left, Mary Lynn shocked him by asking for a divorce. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, they’d each hired lawyers and were soon standing in front of a judge.

By that time, with attorneys involved, things had gotten heated, and he and Mary Lynn were more at odds than ever. It’d taken over a year to even start repairing the damage the attorneys and courts had done. He was sick of living apart from his family. He wanted his wife back.

Never mind what Todd had said—he would ask Mary Lynn to fill in for Danielle. Just until he could hire another secretary. Just until he could convince her that being apart was pure insanity.

Feeling pleased with himself, he reached for the phone. Mary Lynn answered on the third ring. “Hello,” she murmured groggily.

She never had been much of a morning person. “Hi. It’s Steve.”

“Steve. Good grief, what time is it?”

“Nine.”

“Already?”

He could hear her rustling the sheets in an effort to sit up. During their marriage, he’d loved waking her, having her cuddle against him all soft and warm and feminine, smelling of some exotic flower. Their best loving had been in the mornings.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and yawned loudly.

“Nothing. Well, my secretary quit.”

She went very quiet, and he could almost hear her resentment over the telephone line. “I don’t type, Steve, you know that.”

After all those years together, Mary Lynn could read him like a book. He took a certain perverse pride in that. “I need someone to fill in for a few days until I can hire a new secretary.”

“What about getting a temporary?”

“Sure, I could call an agency and they’d send someone out, but I’d rather give you the money.”

“I’ve got school. It isn’t easy for me attending classes all afternoon plus keeping up with the kids and the house, you know.”

“I realize that, but it’d help me out considerably if you came in for a couple of days, just in the mornings. That’s all I’m asking.” Since paying for her education had been part of the settlement, he was well aware of her schedule.

“You always say that!” she snapped.

“What?” This conversation was quickly taking on the same tone as their arguments before the divorce. He’d say or do something that irritated her, and for the life of him, he wouldn’t understand what he’d done.

“You say you realize how difficult my schedule is. You don’t.”

“I do, honest.”

“If you did, you’d never ask me to pitch in while you take your own sweet time finding a new secretary. I know you, Steve Marris. Two days’ll become two weeks and I won’t be able to keep up with my classes. That’s what you really want, whether you know it or not. You’re trying to sabotage my schoolwork.”

Steve choked back an argument. “I understand how important your classes are,” he said. And he did. What he failed to understand was why her getting an education precluded being married to him. Not only that, he wondered what she intended to do with a major in art history. Get a job in some museum, he supposed—if there were any jobs to be had. But he certainly couldn’t say that to her.

“Do you really, Steve?”

“Yes,” he said, still struggling to show his respect for her efforts. “It’s just that I thought since your classes don’t start until one, you might be willing to help out, but if you can’t, you can’t.”

She hesitated and he closed in for the kill.

“All I need is a couple of hours in the morning. And like I said, if you can’t do it, that’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Do you realize how much reading I have, how many assignments?”

“You’re right, I never should have asked. I guess that’s been the problem all along, hasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she agreed sharply. Then there was a pause. And a sigh. “I guess I could fill in for a couple of days, but no longer. I want to make that perfectly clear. Two days and not a minute longer, understand?”

“Perfectly.” Steve wanted to leap up and click his heels in the air. Calling Mary Lynn had been one of his better ideas. He was confident it wouldn’t take long to make her forget all about this other guy.

“I hope you don’t want me there before eight?”

He let the question slide. “You’re wearing the pink nightie, aren’t you?”

“Steve!”

“Aren’t you?” His voice grew husky despite his attempts to keep it even. Some of their best sex had come after the divorce. It was so crazy. Mary Lynn wanted him out of the house but continued to welcome him in her bed. Not that he was complaining.

“Yes, I’m wearing your favorite nightie,” she whispered, her voice low and sexy.

Slowly his eyes drifted shut. “I’m coming over.”

“Steve, no. I can’t. We can’t.”