He almost hit him. Instead, he brought his face close to Alvin’s, near enough to smell his breath.
“I never want to see or talk to you again.”
With that, he turned and strode out the door.
Twelve
“I haven’t heard from him,” Lexie admitted the following afternoon, eyeing Doris across the table at Herbs.
“I’m sure it’s going to be all right,” Doris said.
Lexie hesitated, trying to figure out whether Doris was telling the truth or simply saying what she wanted to hear. “You didn’t see his expression at the house yesterday. The way he stared at me . . . like he hated me.”
“Can you blame him?”
Lexie looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said,” Doris replied. “How would you like it if you discovered something about Jeremy that made you feel you couldn’t trust him?”
Lexie stiffened in protest. “I didn’t come here to listen to this.”
“Well, you’re here, and you’re going to listen. You came here hoping for sympathy, but when you told your story, I kept thinking about how Jeremy might have seen all this. He sees you holding hands with Rodney, you break your date to spend the evening with Rodney, and then he finds out that you’ve been pregnant before. It’s no wonder he was angry.”
Lexie opened her mouth to say something, but Doris raised her hands to cut her off.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but he’s not the only one at fault here.”
“I apologized. I explained everything.”
“I know you did, but sometimes that’s not enough. You hid things from him, not once or twice, but three times. You can’t do that, not if you want his confidence. You should have told him what happened with Trevor. I thought you already had, or I never would have given him the journal.”
“Why did I have to tell him? I hadn’t thought about it in years. It happened a long time ago.”
“Not to him. To him, it happened on Friday. I’d probably be angry, too.”
“You sound like you’re on his side.”
“On this, I am.”
“Doris!”
“You’re engaged, Lexie. I know Rodney’s been your friend for years, but you’re engaged to Jeremy, and the rules change. It would have been fine if you had told him up front what you were doing, but you were sneaking behind his back.”
“That’s because I knew how he’d react.”
“Oh really? How did you know?” Doris fixed her with an unwavering gaze. “All you would have had to do was call and tell him that you wanted to talk to Rodney, that you were trying to find out where Rachel went, that you wanted to find out whether you were somehow responsible. I’m sure he would have understood that. But you didn’t tell the full story, and not for the first time. And then he finds out that you were pregnant before?”
“You mean I’m supposed to tell him everything?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. But this? Yeah, you probably should have told him. It wasn’t like it was a big secret in town, and even if it was something you wanted to forget, you had to figure that he was going to find out anyway. It would have been better for you to tell him than for him to have found out the way he did. Or worse, what if he’d heard it from someone else?”
Lexie turned toward the window, her mouth a stubborn line, and Doris thought she might leave. But she stayed seated, and Doris reached across the table to take her hand.
“I know you, Lexie. You can be headstrong, but you’re not a victim. And neither is Jeremy. What’s going on with you two, all this stress you’re both under . . . that’s called life. And life has a tendency to throw curveballs when you least expect them. Every couple has ups and downs, every couple argues, and that’s the thing—you’re a couple, and couples can’t function without trust. You have to trust him, and he’s got to trust you.”
In the silence, Lexie thought about Doris’s comment while continuing to stare through the window. A cardinal landed on the window ledge, hopped from spot to spot as if the ledge were on fire, then flew off. She’d seen the bird land here a hundred times before, maybe a thousand times, but as she watched she was struck by the absurd conviction that somehow this bird was trying to tell her something. She waited, watching for the cardinal to reappear, hoping it would come back. But it didn’t, and she realized how foolish the thought had been. Above her, the ceiling fans whirred, moving the air in empty circles.
“You think he’ll come back?” Lexie finally asked, her voice betraying her fear.
“He’s coming back,” Doris said, squeezing her hand with conviction.
Lexie wanted to believe it, even if she wasn’t so sure herself. “I haven’t heard from him since he left,” she whispered. “He hasn’t called once.”
“He will,” Doris said. “Give him time. He’s trying to sort through everything, and he’s with his friends this weekend. It’s his bachelor party, don’t forget.”
“I know. . . .”
“Don’t read anything extra into this. When’s he coming back?”
“Supposedly Sunday night. But—”
“Then that’s when he’ll be here,” Doris said. “And when he does show up, just be happy to see him. Ask about his weekend, and listen with interest when he tells you all about it. And afterwards, make sure he knows how special you think he is. Believe me, I was married for a long time.”
Despite the turmoil she was feeling inside, Lexie grinned. “You sound like a marriage counselor.”
Doris shrugged. “I know men. Let me tell you, they can be rip-roaring mad or frustrated or worried about work or life, but in the end, they’re pretty simple to figure out if you know what makes them tick. And one of the things that make them tick is an almost desperate need to feel appreciated and admired. You make them feel that way, and you’ll be amazed at what they’ll do for you.”
Lexie simply stared at her grandmother. Doris had a mischievous grin as she went on. “Of course, they want great sex and want you to keep the house clean and neat and organized while looking beautiful and still having the energy to do fun things together, but admiration and appreciation are right up there.”
Lexie’s jaw dropped. “Gee, really?” she asked. “Maybe I should go barefoot and stay pregnant, except when I’m wearing lingerie.”
“Don’t act so indignant.” Doris had turned serious again. “You’re not the only one who has to make a sacrifice when it comes to being a couple. You think you’re getting the short end of the stick? Men have to make sacrifices, too. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you want Jeremy to hold your hand and snuggle as you watch a movie, you want him to share his feelings and listen, you want him to spend time with your daughter and earn enough not only to buy but renovate the house. Well, I’ll tell you straight up that no man says to himself as he’s walking down the aisle, Gee, I’m going to work hard and sacrifice so I can provide a good living for my family, and I’m going to spend hours with my kids even when I’m tired, all the while hugging and kissing and listening to my wife and telling her all my troubles, and meanwhile, I’m not going to expect a single thing.” Doris didn’t wait for a response. “A man promises to do the things to keep you happy in the hopes that you, too, will do the things that keep him happy.”
She reached for Lexie’s hand. “Like I said, you’re in this together. Men have certain needs, women have different needs; that’s the way it was hundreds of years ago, and that’s the way it’s going to be hundreds of years from now. If you both realize that, and you both work on meeting each other’s needs, you’ll have a good marriage. And part of that, for both of you, is trust. In the end, it’s that simple.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
Doris gave a knowing smile. “Yes, you do. But my hope is that you remember this when you’re married. If you think it’s tough now, wait until then. Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can’t get any better, it will. But as long as you remember that he loves you and you love him—and both of you remember to act that way—you’ll be just fine.”
Lexie mulled over Doris’s words. “I suppose this is the premarriage talk, huh? The one you’ve been saving up for all these years?”
Doris let go of Lexie’s hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose it might have come out eventually, but I didn’t plan on saying all this beforehand. It just came up.”
Lexie was silent as she considered it. “So, you’re sure he’s going to come back?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know what it means. Believe it or not, I’ve been around the block more than once.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not. Don’t you remember? I’m psychic.”
“You’re a diviner, you’re not psychic.”
Doris shrugged. “Sometimes the feeling comes across exactly the same way.”
Lexie stopped outside of Herbs, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight. Searching for her keys, she found herself contemplating the wisdom of Doris’s words. It hadn’t been easy hearing her grandmother’s assessment of her situation, but was it ever easy hearing that you might be wrong? Since Jeremy had left her standing on the porch, she’d fumed with self-justification, as if anger might keep her worries in check, but now she couldn’t escape how petty the memory made her feel. She didn’t want to fight with Jeremy; she was as tired of the arguments as he was. This was no way to start their marriage, and she decided it would end here and now. Unlocking her car and sliding behind the wheel, she nodded with determination. She would change if she had to—and also because it was the right thing to do.
Pulling out of the parking lot, she wasn’t sure where to go. Drawn by instinct, however, she soon found herself at the cemetery, standing before the headstones of her parents. Seeing their names carved in granite, she thought of the couple she didn’t remember and tried to imagine what they had been like. Did her mother laugh a lot, or was she quiet? Was her father a fan of football or baseball? Pointless thoughts, but she nonetheless found herself wondering how much like Doris her mother had been, and whether her mother would have given her the same lecture Doris had. More than likely, she guessed. They were mother and daughter, after all. For a reason she couldn’t explain, the thought made her smile. She would call Jeremy as soon as she got home, she decided. She’d tell him again that she was sorry and that she missed him.
And, as if her mother were listening, a light breeze stirred the air, making the leaves of the magnolia sway, almost in hushed agreement.
Lexie spent nearly an hour in the cemetery, conjuring up images of Jeremy and what he might be doing. She pictured him sitting in the worn easy chair in his parents’ living room, talking to his father, and it seemed as if she were in the adjoining room, listening in. She caught herself remembering how she felt when she first entered his childhood home, surrounded by those who knew him far longer than she had. She recalled the flirtatious way he’d watched her that evening and the tender way he’d traced her belly with his finger later that night at the Plaza.
Sighing as she glanced at her watch, she realized that there was a lot she should be doing: grocery shopping, paperwork at the library, gift buying for some employees’ upcoming birthdays . . . But as she jingled her keys, she suddenly felt an undeniable urge to go home, one so powerful that she felt little choice in the matter. She turned from her parents’ headstones and walked back to her car, puzzled by the urgency.
She drove slowly, careful to avoid the rabbits and raccoons that typically scampered across this stretch of road, but as she drew nearer to her home, an inexplicable sense of anticipation made her press down more firmly on the accelerator. She turned onto the road that fronted her property, blinking in confusion at the sight of Doris’s car parked along the street—until she caught sight of the figure perched on her front steps, elbows on his knees.
Fighting the urge to jump from the car, she stepped out slowly and began to walk up the driveway as if nothing about the scene struck her as unusual.
Jeremy had risen even before she’d slung her purse over her shoulder. “Hi,” he said.
She forced herself to steady her voice and smile as she approached. “Down here, people say, ‘hey,’ not ‘hi.’”
Jeremy studied his feet, seemingly oblivious to the playfulness in her tone.
“I’m glad to see you, stranger,” she added, her voice gentle. “It’s not often that I come home to see such a handsome man waiting on my porch.”
When Jeremy looked up, she could see the exhaustion in his face.
“I was just beginning to wonder where you were.”
She stood before him, recalling her earlier memory of his touch against her skin. For an instant, she thought about throwing herself into his arms, but there was something so fragile and tentative about his demeanor that she held back.
“I’m glad to see you,” she said again.
Jeremy responded with the ghost of a smile but said nothing.
“Are you still mad at me?” she asked.
Instead of answering, he simply stared at her. When she realized he was debating how to answer, weighing what he wanted to say against what he thought she wanted to hear, she reached for his arm. “Because if you are, you have every right to be.” She spoke in a breathless rush, anxious not to leave out anything she needed to say. “You were right. I should have told you about everything, and I won’t keep things like that from you again. I’m sorry.”