“Incoming,” Winnie says, and I see Pat approaching, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“We’ll give you two a moment.” Val hooks her arm through Winnie’s, and they head toward the house. “Love the driveway!” she calls, and I stare machetes at her back, because staring daggers isn't enough.
I take a deep breath and head toward Pat. Though he’s smiling, it’s a sheepish grin. It’s the same look Amber gets when I find her sleeping in my bed.
“I can explain,” he says.
“Be my guest. Tell me why, when I’ve been explicitly clear about not wanting you to pay for big things, you do something that is by definition very big.”
I don’t realize we were both still moving forward until we stop at about the same time, our toes practically touching. The air vibrates with tension.
“Tank hired a crew to pave the downtown. Then Billy Waters showed up with some injunction from the city council saying we needed to have permits for the roads and blah blah, boring legal stuff. Tank already paid for the truck and the workers. So, we needed to pave something. I thought of you.”
“How sweet,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm even though … it really is sweet. And thoughtful. Considering the situation, would I rather the asphalt go to waste? His explanation is totally reasonable. Yet I am personally feeling anything BUT reasonable.
My relationship with Pat is a life-sized game of Risk, and I cannot let him win this offensive. It’s way too much ground to give up. Honestly, he has no idea how close I am to waving a white flag of surrender.
But every time I think I’m ready to lay down my arms, I remember the searing pain I felt losing Pat before. I remind myself how long I waited for him that last night for our final goodbye, how stupid I felt when I realized he left without saying goodbye.
I think about his quickie Vegas marriage to Booby McUnderpants, not all that different from his quickie marriage to me. Who’s to say he won’t change his mind about me in a few days or week?
But I feel like I’m having to work really hard to make these arguments convincing. My reasons to resist are becoming smaller and smaller the more time I spend with Pat. They are like a flimsy prop set for a movie, about to blow over with a strong wind.
Pat has changed. I see it in his patience with Jo, and even with the way he deals with my surly attitude. The special connection we had years ago is only stronger, deeper. Still, I’ve spent years building up my protective walls, not just for me but for Jo. It’s my job to keep us safe behind these walls. They’re sturdy. They’re important. And here I am letting Pat bulldoze his way right inside.
Part of me wants to step back and just let him on through. But I can’t rush my heart.
I’m completely overwhelmed with what’s going on right now with Jo. I don’t know if I have the emotional bandwidth to truly consider the relationship with Pat or make a rational decision I won’t second-guess later. There’s too much else at stake, too much on my mind. Until things with Jo are more certain, I can’t even consider letting myself fall for my husband.
And so I put my hands on my hips and steel my voice. “No more big things, Pat. I mean it.”
He totally ignores this. “I had an interesting conversation with Billy, by the way. He mentioned that you two dated?”
I narrow my eyes, feeling heat build in my chest. “You want to talk about past relationships right now? Maybe I have terrible taste in men.”
Pat’s voice lowers. Did he get closer somehow? I swear I can feel the heat of him burning into me.
“Could be. Maybe you should test that theory.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “Want to see how I taste, Lindybird?”
And I totally do. I want nothing more than to grab this infuriating man and yank his mouth to mine and battle this out without words.
“Get a room!” Chevy calls, and Pat rocks back on his heels, groaning.
“One of these days, I’m going to pay that man back for all of this.”
“I’ll gladly help you,” I say, stepping back. Pulling myself together, I manage to slow my heart to regular, human levels. “Thank you for the driveway. Even though you shouldn’t have done it.”
I stomp away from Pat before I can lose any more ground or think any more kissing thoughts.
Tank intercepts me as I reach the new circular drive in front of the house. His arms stretch out for a hug, and I can’t refuse him. Tank hugs are starting to edge ahead of Chevy hugs, especially now that Winnie’s brother is on my naughty list.
“Did Pat tell you about our mishap downtown?” he asks. “I hope it wasn’t overstepping.”
“It was,” I tell him, “but it’s also very kind. Thank you. What do I owe you?”
Tank waves me off. “Consider it a wedding gift.”
Before I can respond, Jo bounds over. She drags Tank toward the house. “Come see what Patty did in my room!” she squeals.
“What did he do in your room?” I call. I’m sure whatever it is, Tank has already seen it, but he goes along willingly.
When she turns, looking over her shoulder, her face is full of glee. “He and Uncle James built me bookshelves!”
Pat and Uncle James built bookshelves. I’m so overcome with a mix of emotions I can’t even respond. Winnie and Val come up on either side of me, wrapping their arms around my waist like I need them to hold me up. Maybe I do.
“Want to tell us why you’re still resisting this man?” Val asks quietly. “He’s like a dream.”
“Exactly. A dream. And when I wake up, that’s when it’s going to hurt.”
Winnie scoffs. “You know that’s not what she meant. And if you really think Pat would leave you, you’re not right in the head.”
I’m definitely not right in the head.
Val leans her head on my shoulder. “You’re only fighting yourself here, Lindy.”
“Would you look at that,” Winnie says. “The grumpy one might have a heart after all.”
Jo has emerged from the house and is now sitting with James, a chessboard between them. Even out of hearing range, I can tell how carefully James is explaining the rules. Jo nods eagerly, her hands fluttering over the pieces.