The Friends We Keep

“Just one of my many charms. Come on. Let’s go get the primer.”


When the paint had been loaded into their cart, they made their way to the garden section. The morning was warm and sunny, even with the awning overhead. Plants were laid out in rows—some on tables with the larger ones on the ground, grouped by type—shade, flowering, annuals, perennials. Now that their front yard had been cleaned up, it was in obvious need of fresh plants. But there were too many choices.

Hayley looked around at all the offerings, then back at Rob. “I don’t know anything about plants. You?”

“Same.”

“We could ask someone.”

“You’re assuming we know the questions.”

“Oh, right.” She pointed to the roses. “I know what they are. I think they’re a lot of work.”

“Then not for us.”

She sighed. “I’m clueless.”

“But pretty and that counts, right?”

She pretended to slug him in the arm. “Very funny. So maybe we should go home with what we have and walk the yard. Figure out what’s dead, what just needs watering and come up with a plan. Then we can go online and learn a few basics before coming back.”

“An excellent idea.” He kissed her lightly. “Not so clueless after all.”

They made their way through the Saturday afternoon crowd and got in line to pay for their purchases. After loading everything in the car, they drove home and carried the cans and paint supplies into the house.

They’d already emptied the master of everything but their bed and the dresser. They would take the curtains down in the morning, just before they started painting. Hayley picked up a roll of blue tape.

“I’ll start with the baseboards if you want to do the windows,” she said.

Rob took the tape from her and dropped it onto the floor. “Or we could do something else,” he whispered right before he kissed her.

The feel of his mouth on hers was nice, but surprising. When his arms came around her, she knew exactly what he wanted.

“I don’t know if I’m ovulating,” she admitted. She hadn’t taken her temperature in weeks. There hadn’t been any point. Between her body recovering from the miscarriage and the way the last batch of hormones had messed her up, she had no idea where she was in her cycle.

“That’s okay,” he said, kissing along her jaw before moving to her neck.

But what about Switzerland? A question she thought but didn’t vocalize. Because nothing could happen before then. She had to let her body recover before the treatments began.

“But I...”

Understanding dawned just as Rob straightened. His brows drew together in annoyance.

“Not everything has to be about getting pregnant,” he told her. “We’re married. We used to do this just for fun.”

Guilt burned hot and bright in her belly. Not only because she wasn’t telling him her plans but because he was right. There had been a time when they’d wanted to make love all the time for no reason other than it felt good to be with each other. Their first year of marriage, they’d made love every day, sometimes more. They’d laughed and touched, smug in the knowledge that they would be in love forever.

He stepped away.

“Rob, wait.”

He looked at her for a long time. “Is it ever not about getting pregnant?”

“Of course.” The words were automatic. “It’s just...”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll be in the garage.”

She let him go. She could have called him back, could have gone to him and kissed him. Could have held him. Changing his mind wouldn’t be that difficult. Instead she sank onto the floor and sat cross-legged on the carpet.

She hurt all over. Not just the usual cramping, but everywhere. Her arms and legs were too heavy. She wasn’t sleeping well. Wanting a baby wasn’t a crime, she told herself as she rested her head in her hands. She wasn’t a bad person. Rob had to understand that.

The problem was, she was pretty sure he did understand. But the journey had gone on too long, and understanding wasn’t going to be enough anymore.

*

Boyd’s parents lived on the Torrance side of Mischief Bay. It was a pretty two-story house on a small lot. Gabby would guess there had once been a cute little bungalow that had been torn down to make room for the larger home. It was happening all over.

The yard was manicured, the front door freshly painted and the living room pristine. Gabby thought of the endless stream of books, stuffed animals, dog and cat toys, books and dolls she was constantly picking up in her own family room. Given three days’ notice, she couldn’t get close to her house being as well-ordered as this one.