She moved to grab the wineglasses before he broke any and he caught her wrists. “Ask me,” he said gruffly. “Ask me to give it up, for you and the kids. No, tell me I need to put my family’s needs first.”
Gently, she freed her hands. “I think we have some lumber in the basement. Go build a torture rack. It’s not very Christmassy, but we can decorate it with tinsel.”
He gave a strangled laugh. “Kayla…”
Moving the wineglasses out of harm’s way, she faced him. “Recently, a man—let’s call him Bob—told me this lovely story about meeting his wife. I never told him about meeting my husband. This teenager—let’s call him Jared—was the coolest boy I’d ever met. He was oblivious to the popularity contests and high school politics that kept the rest of us so busy. He was always looking out through music to the bigger world. Whatever instrument he played, and he could play many, he transported everyone listening. I didn’t have a musical bone in my body. Hell, I couldn’t even keep time on a triangle, but I got it. This is what he’s on this earth to do. Play music. Make people happy.”
“Don’t you dare let me off the hook,” he said quietly. “How do I make you happy?”
She answered his first question. “I haven’t asked you to quit because, right now, you need this more than I need to live in Bridgeton.”
“I don’t accept you sacrificing your wants for mine. God knows, you’ve done enough of that over the past eighteen months.”
“I’m not being a martyr.” Turning back to the sink, she put in the plug and ran water. “With all our friends and family telling me how lucky I was, I felt such a failure struggling with the rock-star lifestyle. I’m not pretending anymore.” Squirting soap into the water, she handed Jared a tea towel. “In future, if your ego gets out of hand or I’m struggling, I’ll speak up.”
Doggedly, he shook his head. “I know living in L.A. is tough for you. It’ll get lonely when I start traveling to gigs again.”
Swirling the water into bubbles, she picked up the dish brush. “I have ideas how to improve things.” As she washed the glasses, she told him what she’d discussed with Dimity—finding a community, working part-time. “If you’re on tour for longer than a week, the kids and I will go stay with your folks or my mother.”
She handed him a glass to dry. “Remember when we discussed having kids? We decided we’d do what we had to, to make it work. Because we weren’t going to compromise my dream of a family for yours of a music career. And it was tough making ends meet, but we managed because we were working together for something important.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t mind doing hard, Jared, as long as I feel that we’re still in this together, that we’re a team. That’s how you make me happy.”
She saw he was still conflicted. “Our new life has given us one incredible benefit. I can be home with the kids while they’re small. So many young families can’t afford that luxury. I’m grateful for that. I can build a new life in L.A. for that.”
*
The terrible pressure in Jared’s chest eased. With all that he’d done wrong, he was doing some things right.
“The day I signed a contract with Rage and you were able to quit work and stay home with the kids like you wanted was one of the proudest days of my life. It wasn’t until then that I understood how much I need to take care of my family.
“I’ve never thought of myself as ambitious, but I do want it all, Kayla. A career in music, recognition, the kids and you. I wouldn’t take this risk if I didn’t believe I could make it work.”
“Then let’s make it work.”
He took her into his arms. “If we’re baring our souls, I need you to be honest with me. What am I missing with you?”
“Nothing, why?” But he felt the tension in her muscles.
“You’re still wary around me, guarded.”
“I’m not,” she protested. She must have heard the defensiveness in her own voice, because she smiled. “At least, not since you admitted our tour issues were all your fault and we’ve cleared the air over Simone.”
“No?” He started unbuttoning her blouse. “Then let’s get naked and do it on the kitchen table, right here, right now.”
Laughing, she moved his hands. “The kids…”
“Are asleep, and Maddie’s probably already in our bed.” He cupped her cheek. “What’s going on? You don’t undress in front of me anymore, you turn down the lights when we make love, and you find it harder to let go when we have sex.”
He’d noticed it this afternoon when he’d made his move. The kids had both been napping and sunlight was streaming through the windows when he’d swept Kayla up and carried her into the spare room. She’d made excuses then, too.
With her cheek pressed against his palm, his wife took a deep breath. “Hé, la grosse, ?a va là, fous-moi la paix. Do you know what that means?”
He shook his head. “Tell me.”