“I’m too tired to unpack anything else, but I’m not quite ready for sleep.”
“I see you got your computer set up.”
He glanced at the glowing screen. “Fortunately, I ordered Internet service when I had the phones turned on a few days ago. I’m good to go.”
“That’s great. Now you can stay in close contact with your boss at the university while you organize your research notes.”
“The research will have to wait until later.”
She hesitated. “Why?”
“I’ll be working.”
“Where?”
That was anybody’s guess. Isaac couldn’t imagine there were a lot of job opportunities in such a small town, but he had to come up with something. Liz was in no shape to work full-time—not yet. Besides, the kids were better off having her around. With all the emotional changes going on in their lives, they needed her.
“I’ll find something,” he said. He had a fairly healthy savings account, which meant he wouldn’t need to earn a lot. A modest wage to help with the living expenses and keep himself busy until their lease was up would be enough. He hoped that in six months Liz would be ready to move back to L.A. Isaac hated the thought of Chris and Mica losing their father, but Keith was responsible for that. This move was just as much about Liz coming to terms with her sudden abandonment. Once she’d dealt with her loss, she’d be able to offer more support to the kids and they’d all begin to heal.
“I’m hoping to get a job, too,” she said. “I can’t imagine child support will go very far.”
“Especially now that Keith’s quit Softscape. We don’t even know if he’s found anything else.”
“True,” she said.
“If you go to work, what will you do with the kids?”
“I’ll have to arrange child care.”
“They’d be better off with you right now.”
“But it’s not fair to rely on you to support us.”
“Why not? It’s only temporary. And we’re family.”
“I should work part-time, at least. Keith might be able to help with the babysitting.”
“We’ll do perfectly without him.”
“We only have one car.”
“I’m going to buy a pickup, something fairly inexpensive that I can sell when I leave.”
“Sounds good,” she said, but she was nibbling worriedly at her bottom lip.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I feel bad for letting you do so much for me. I’m not sure I can deal with the guilt in addition to everything else.”
“Then don’t deal with it. Forget about it and get out of here. You need some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Take a sedative. Believe me, the world will seem like a better place tomorrow.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Somehow I doubt much of anything will change. But I’ve got to rest, if only for a little while.”
“Good night,” he said.
She mumbled the same, then disappeared, leaving him alone with his blue screen and the napkin he’d shoved into his file. Reenie…If he wrote to her, would she respond?
After reclaiming the napkin, he typed her address into the send box.
REENIE BLINKED when two new e-mails popped onto her screen. She’d just finished writing to her father, who stayed in Boise during the week when the legislature was in session. He’d be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. But neither message was from him. One was from Keith. The other was most likely spam, since she didn’t recognize the return address: [email protected]
Too tired to deal with her husband, she decided to shut down the computer. It was late, and she’d met with Keith earlier. Things had gone pretty well, considering. He’d insisted he’d left Liz for good and would never hear from her again. All he had to do was send her a check every month. And he’d promised Reenie he loved her more than ever and would be the perfect husband from now on.
Reenie longed to believe him. Only there was an emptiness inside her that had never been there before. She couldn’t figure out what was missing, or whether she could go on without it, but worrying about it was keeping her from sleeping.
Indecision…she hated nothing worse.
What do I do? What’s best for my children? She was so sick of those two questions, she wanted to scream. Celeste, Georgia and Frank, her father-in-law, thought she should give Keith another chance. Gabe and her own father disagreed. Those who knew the truth supported divorce; those who didn’t pushed for reconciliation. Except her mother, of course. Her mother knew, but she couldn’t be hard on anyone.
Reenie moved her cursor to the x that would sign her off the Internet, then hesitated. The subject line of the second message read, “You okay?”
Maybe this wasn’t spam. Maybe it was from an old friend who’d learned of her pending divorce.
She wasn’t sure that was much of an improvement over an unwanted advertisement. She was tired of the added attention. But curiosity prompted her to open it.
Hey, she read. Just thought I’d drop you a line to see how you’re doing. Did you ever sell the Jeep? Did you take Keith back? How’re the girls? Isaac
Isaac? Liz’s brother? It had to be him. She’d provided her e-mail address the night they’d met at the diner. He didn’t give his last name, but he’d referred to both the Jeep and Keith. Who else could it be?
The hair stood up on her arms as she read the message again. Maybe this wasn’t spam, but she sure as heck wasn’t any happier to receive it.
Why had he written her?
She closed the message, opened it, then closed it again. She didn’t want to talk to anyone even remotely associated with Liz. She was working too hard to convince herself that Liz didn’t exist.
But she had a few questions. How was it that Keith had left Liz so quickly and easily? Was Liz terribly hurt? And even though Reenie wished she could ignore the part of her heart that grieved for Keith’s other children, she couldn’t. How were they accepting the sudden disappearance of their father?
Her pulse raced as she began to type, but she steadied her shaking fingers. We still have the Jeep, but that’s way down my list of concerns at the moment, she wrote. How’s…she hesitated, almost backed up to erase what she’d written, then forced herself to continue…your sister?
She didn’t bother to sign it. Isaac would know who it was from.