Karissa slept for four hours before getting up to move on with her day. It seemed almost cruel that she had finished the end of her three-day shift and would be home all weekend while Paul was at his father’s, but it was just the way the schedule worked.
Karissa took care of her mom, then spent the long drive with Paul singing silly songs and talking about the animals on the farm. She tried to keep things light but, as she pulled into Dennis’s neighborhood, she felt the muscles of her stomach tighten; her hands began to feel shaky and her heart fluttered. She hated any kind of personal confrontation, and she knew that Dennis’s new wife, Sheryl, was irritated that she’d needed to bring Paul at four p.m. when six would have suited her so much better.
As she parked in the driveway and unhooked Paul from his seat, Karissa wondered if Sheryl felt somehow threatened, despite the fact that Dennis had left Karissa, rather than Karissa learning about his affair and kicking him out. She looked up at the house, a small one to be sure, but a real house, not a cramped apartment. The pang of jealousy ran through Karissa before she was able to push it back. She had been trying to talk Dennis into a house for years, but he always claimed they couldn’t afford it.
Regardless of Sheryl’s response to Karissa, her genuine love for Paul was obvious. The blonde bombshell, who was normally at least two dress sizes smaller than Karissa, gleefully hugged Paul and dropped half a dozen kisses on his cheek, causing him to giggle. “Hello there, little man. How was your week?”
Karissa fought the urge to take her son right out of the woman’s arms.
Sheryl let Karissa in, holding Paul’s hand while he prattled on about the farm and his new friend Steve, the four-year-old from the next farm over. When he stopped for breath, Sheryl broke in, “It sounds like you had an exciting time. Why don’t you sit at the table and I’ll get you some cookies and milk. Your dad should be home soon.”
When Paul had scampered off, Sheryl turned to Karissa, her face impassive, her stance belligerent. “Sounds like he’s becoming quite the farm boy.”
Sheryl’s hostility brought bile to the back of Karissa’s throat. She fought the tendency to be intimidated by the woman, though looking into the successful business woman’s ice blue eyes, which looked down her perfect nose at Karissa, it was not an easy thing to do.
Not allowing the telling pause that would have helped her own voice stay steady, Karissa smiled and tossed back a hand in unconcern. “He’s always worshiped his Grandpa Carver. Now they spend hours together every day. It’s like a dream come true for him.”
“What kind of dream, I wonder.” Before Karissa could respond, Sheryl continued on smoothly, “Anything we should know about? Illness, new sleeping habits, rashes?”
It took all of Karissa’s will power to continue to be genial. “No, everything’s perfectly normal. I’m sure Dennis has told you about his grandmother.” Karissa wouldn’t have bothered mentioning it to Dennis, except he wanted a reason for why Karissa couldn’t come later in the day and, when he’d called to find out the previous evening, Hank had grabbed the cell phone and spelled it out. Considering Hank’s current low level of tolerance for Dennis, he hadn’t been inclined to be kind and gentle.
Genuine sympathy softened Sheryl’s eyes and she nodded in response.
Karissa explained, “He knows Grandma goes to the doctor so he can make her feel better, but we try to downplay the seriousness of her condition. If you’d do the same, I’d appreciate it. We don’t need him upset over something he can’t change.”
Sheryl nodded again, and Karissa dropped Paul’s overnight bag beside the sofa.
“If you need me, you know how to reach me. I don’t work this weekend, so you can call my cell.”
“I think we can handle him for two days. It’s not like it’s his first visit.” Sheryl placed a hand on her burgeoning stomach, caressing the nearly full-term pregnancy beneath.
Karissa wondered if the gesture had been intentional or not, but a glance at Sheryl’s face didn’t indicate that she had any idea how much the gesture tore at Karissa’s heart.
Karissa smiled tightly and walked into the room where her son had disappeared a moment earlier. She noticed the dining table and chairs that Dennis had insisted he had to have were no longer in the room. They had been replaced with a much nicer set. Fighting back the anger, Karissa swept Paul into her arms for a last hug. “You be a good boy for Daddy and Sheryl, all right? And you know you can call Mommy if you want to.”
“Bye, Mom, I love you.” He wrapped his arms around her neck and gave it a tight squeeze.
Fighting to keep the tears back, Karissa gave him a big smacking kiss. “Love you too, bunches and bunches.”
Feeling her composure beginning to falter, she stood and hurried from the room, telling Sheryl goodbye before heading out the door.
***
Karissa kept back the waves of pain for two blocks, at which point she pulled into a grocery store parking lot and allowed her tears free reign. Being in the house with that woman was torture—every moment something bombarded her, reminding Karissa why she hadn’t been able to keep Dennis, why Sheryl was so much better, smarter, more beautiful. Karissa wished she could drop Paul off to Dennis, always, instead of dealing with Sheryl, but their schedules had clashed lately, making that an unreasonable expectation. Karissa told herself she should just be glad that Sheryl appeared to genuinely care about her son, and what little Karissa had seen of her parenting skills seemed to be adequate.
That didn’t help much though, not when she resented the woman’s perfection, her ability to live the life Karissa had seen for herself and been unable to have. The bitterness and anger that the woman had knowingly lured a man away from his family and broke up his marriage had a way of returning over and over, making the forgiveness that Karissa had always been taught to give…an impossibility. Maybe someday she would look back and see that she was better off without Dennis. Right now that day seemed decades away.
The rest of the trip went by quickly enough. When she returned to the farm house it was after seven, and her father and brother were sitting at the kitchen table, an open box of pizza sitting between them.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked.
“In bed already. It’s been a rough day,” her father explained. “We thought you’d be later. We ordered plenty; take a seat.” Robert gestured to a chair as Karissa set an armful of bags on the counter.
“One more trip,” she said, before heading back out to the car to collect the rest of her groceries.
When Karissa came back in, Robert still sat at the table eating, but Hank was putting the perishables away in the fridge and freezer. A half-eaten slice of pizza still sat on his plate.
“What’s wrong with the food?” she asked. “Has Luigi’s changed their special sauce recipe?”
“No, it’s fine. I just thought you could use a hand.”
“Thanks.” They worked side by side for a couple of minutes, putting away the groceries that Karissa had brought in, then returned to the table.
News of shopping, errands, and what the men had accomplished at work filled the time while they sat around the table talking. Long after dinner was done, they continued to talk, settling into their old, familiar routine. Finally, Robert went out to check on the stock before bed.
“So Paul’s settled in?” Hank asked when they were alone.
Karissa felt the muscle in her jaw jump as she held her words for a moment. She could see images in her mind of Sheryl doting on Paul, cutting his food, and asking him if he wanted dessert. She was probably the perfect little mother.
While they sat at their new dining table.
“Yeah. He was munching on cookies when I left,” she said when she could keep her voice even.
“It must be hard leaving him with them.”
“With her you mean.” Karissa squeezed her eyes shut, then shook her head. “It’s not fun.”
Hank touched her shoulder. “You don’t have to be strong for me, Riss. What are you really feeling?”
“What am I really feeling? I’m feeling angry and betrayed. That woman I had to leave Paul with today intentionally destroyed my marriage, stole my husband, took most of my good furniture—some of which they don’t even have anymore. They got rid of my dining room furniture, you know. After Dennis insisted he had to have it. Now she looks down her nose at me because I brought Paul here to the farm to grow up, and it’s obviously not good enough for her. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
Hank didn’t answer, though his face was encouraging, understanding. He didn’t judge her for being angry, didn’t goad her on, didn’t look as though he felt sorry for her—poor little Karissa who couldn’t keep her marriage together. He just accepted and was willing to listen. That alone convinced her to let it all out. She had held back much of her frustration since she had found out about Dennis cheating on her and, though she didn’t elaborate on all of the details that had made her life with Dennis difficult even before she’d learned of his betrayal, she spoke more freely than she ever had. And Hank listened.
When she finished, her face was tear streaked, but she felt as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Things weren’t going to be better because she had unloaded, but Hank understood now. Karissa knew she could count on him to be there for her when things continued to go awry.
The anger and disgust on his face when she described the way she’d learned about the cheating, the denials and mind games, buoyed her and she knew she had a champion.
It made all the difference.
After their dad had come in and gone up to his room to bed, Hank dragged Karissa out to the veranda to talk in the evening quiet. It was cold but beautiful as they pulled their coats tighter around them. Cows mooed in the background; the sound of rustling brought Ernie, the tri-colored barn cat, out of the weeds lining the driveway; and a bark from the neighbor’s dog filled the evening silence.
“It’s so beautiful here. How could I have even wanted to live anywhere else? How could anyone want to?” Karissa’s words were soft and low, reverent almost as she felt the comfort of the land surround her. She felt weak from crying, empty from spilling all the details to Hank, and strangely content.
“Some people don’t understand it like you do. They’re too wrapped up in themselves.” Hank’s answer was unusually harsh.
Karissa looked at him in surprise. Then she realized what must have been the problem. “You said Shanny wasn’t thrilled with Juniper Ridge. What happened, exactly?” After everything she had told him about Dennis, she knew he would tell her now, though she didn’t want him to capitulate out of guilt. “I thought you two were getting serious.”
He ran a hand over his face and leaned back against the bench that flanked the front porch. “We were. Really serious.”
Karissa waited. She knew Hank would spill if she waited long enough.
He let out a low, frustrated breath. “We were starting to talk about the future, marriage, children. She said she wanted to live in a bigger city; I thought she meant Denver or Boulder and told her I could do that, even though I knew I belonged here where I can breathe. I figured if I loved her enough, I could live where she wanted. It turned out she meant LA.
“Shanny got me an interview with a company in LA the week after I realized something was wrong with Mom. I told her now wasn’t a good time, that I needed to be here at home with you coming home and Mom sick. At least until Bo returned from Afghanistan. Dad can’t run this place on his own anymore.”
He rubbed his hands together as if they were cold, which they probably were. “She didn’t understand, refused to try to see where I was coming from. She told me if I didn’t love her enough to leave my family behind, then we didn’t have a future after all because I needed to put her before anyone else. The fact that I was willing to go when things looked a little more sure, a year or less, meant nothing to her. It was now or never.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Karissa almost wished she hadn’t brought it up. Almost. Then she remembered something. “Wait, isn’t her family from LA?”
His laugh was low and empty. “Yeah, she seemed to have missed the irony.”