The Good Enough Husband (15 page)

BOOK: The Good Enough Husband
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“I met someone, Mor,” Hannah said, scrambling for a tissue in the console. “I think I could love him, really love him. I never had that passion for Michael—and thought he was a safe choice.”

“It was Lucas, wasn’t it.”

A feeling of long suppressed dread burbled up from her gut and lodged itself in Hannah’s belly, like an immovable stone in a cr
evasse. This was her Achilles’ heel. She nodded, looking at the small white church outside her passenger window. “It was Lucas.”

“Sometimes I think he broke your spirit as well as your heart, honey.”

“It hurt so much, Mor. I thought I would die when he left me.” Mortification crept into her face. She was glad no one could see her. Hannah couldn’t believe she was this damaged by something that happened nearly twenty years ago.

“It took you a long time to get over it. In some ways, I think you are still not over it.”

It was true. She’d never quite gotten over the pain of that relationship. Instead, she’d worked to bury it as deep inside as possible. Hannah rarely allowed that pain of rejection come to the surface.

Lucas had been her first love and he had dumped her. It was the same story shared by millions of young girls. Hannah had showed up for her last year of college when Lucas had dropped the bomb. He’d met someone else. One day she was in love. The next day, she was alone.

After three years of hot and heavy romance, there hadn’t been an inkling, a warning that her world was going to come crashing down that hot and humid day in August. She had trusted him with everything, and he had tossed it aside like so much detritus.

Hannah hadn’t thought herself naïve, but in the back of her mind, she knew she was going to marry Lucas, that she was going to have his babies, and live happily ever after. She felt stupid even thinking about it now. Scores of people told her that no one ma
rried their college sweetheart. Ever cool and nonchalant on the surface, she’d agreed with them. Secretly, Hannah had thought it could happen. Why not? College sweethearts married all the time. The alumni magazine was packed with their announcements.

In the last twenty years, Hannah had never looked him up on Google or Facebook, fearful that she’d find him happily married with a bunch of darling moppets with his tawny hair and green
eyes. She’d held out for a love like the one she shared with him. When she reached her mid thirties and it hadn’t happened, she’d turned to Michael—compounding one huge life mistake with another.

“I never want to get hurt like that again, Mor,” she whispered.

“What makes you think that this new man won’t hurt you?”

“He’s been hurt himself. I think Ben is the most honest man I’ve ever met. I want to take the risk this time. I’ve spent too many years being afraid.”

“How are you going to handle a new relationship while getting out of the old one? What does your Ben make of this?” Six thousand miles of silence separated them. “Did you hear me? What does Ben make of this?”

“I haven’t told him.” Hannah rushed on, ignoring her mother’s reproachful gasp. “I don’t want to taint this new relationship with the old. I told Michael I want a divorce. We don’t have any kids…”

Her mother misinterpreted Hannah’s tone. “Are you pregnant?”

“Oh, no, Mor. Michael found out he’s infertile. He can’t have children.”

“Did you tell him you wanted a divorce before or after he told you this?”

“After.”

“Oh, honey. Michael must be devastated.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him.”

“I did not say that. He is not the right man for you. He has been a good husband, though, has he not?” Hannah didn’t have a straight answer. Mor continued. “Honey, if it weren’t for you, I sometimes wish I’d met someone like Axel first.” Now that she was an adult, she could see her mother as a woman with wants, desires, and passions. And maybe, maybe her parents weren’t perfect for each other, and maybe her mom’s new husband
was
a better match, but it still stung a little to think about that. “We had all the passion and the fighting and the making up and the heartache, and I do not know if it was worth it. In the end, after all that, we did not even make it.”

“Are you saying I should stay with Michael?”

“In many ways, I think he’s good for you. He’s balanced. He loves you. You know he would never leave you.”

“I want more,” Hannah said.

“You always did, honey. I want you to know that passion isn’t everything.”

“I want to make a clean break from Michael and try to build something with Ben.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, my darling daughter. I think you better tell Ben about Michael.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think Michael is going to let you go.”

 

10

Ben couldn’t keep the ear-to-ear grin from his face. He wanted to do the Snoopy happy dance, but feared he’d fall and incapacitate himself before Hannah got here. And he couldn’t make love to her if he were in traction. The corners of his lips quirked up again. His Hannah was coming back to him. The hour and minute hands on his watch had finally made the slow journey to noon. Ben stood up and grabbed his keys. In less than ten minutes, he was at his parent’s house. When Hannah had called announcing her return, he wished for once he weren’t unfailingly honest. If he’d told her that the Sea Court house were booked, then she would have had nowhere to stay except at his place.

The mere idea of waking up to her every morning had given Ben a semi-permanent hard on for two days. But he hadn’t told the lie that had nearly tripped off his lips, because Hannah’s decision
was the right one, the mature one. They needed to take this slow—see if there was any more to their relationship other than mutual attraction and smoking hot sex. He wanted to do this right this time. The two weeks Hannah had been gone had been torture. Going from celibate to one spectacularly hot night and morning of earth-moving sex with Hannah had been like taking a vintage sports car out of storage. It was slow starting, but now it wanted to race its engine.

He started when he heard a car pull up to the driveway. Ben pulled on an old oilskin jacket from the closet by the front door, and zipped it halfway—not to ward off the cold—but to hide the erection that had gone from half to full mast at the sound of the engine. Adjusting the coat, he took two deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart. He was not a caveman and should probably help her unload and get Cody situated before he dragged her to the bedroom.

But the car in the driveway was not Hannah’s big, black luxury SUV. It looked like his parents’ much more practical Toyota Camry. Ben’s ardor cooled like an Ithaca winter. He tilted his head to make sure it was Walter and Elaine, but even with intense scrutiny, he couldn’t tell if this car was a new one or an old one. Loyal Toyota owners, they replaced one red or maroon Camry with another every few years. He squinted. It was them. His mom’s blow-dried head was out of the car before he could open the door for her. His mother had always hated her curly hair, and had paid to have it professionally blown into smooth waves each and every week for as long as he could remember.

The Camry’s engine tick, tick, ticked its way to cool, as his f
ather sat unmoving in the driver’s seat. No doubt, he was caught up in some long-winded NPR broadcast. His dad never came into the house before a National Public Radio segment ended. God forbid his dad got home at the beginning of This American Life. He could be in the car, in the darkened garage, for forty-five minutes. His mother pointed out time and again, they could easily turn on the radio in the house—but for his Dad, it wasn’t the same. He refused to budge.

“What are you doing here, Mom?” He hoped he didn’t sound ungracious.

“Ben Cooper, I’m here to help our guest settle in. If that’s okay with you.” Apparently, he didn’t sound congenial.

“Mom, I’m right down the street. I told you I was more than happy to do it.”

“I’m sure you were, Benji.” Gesturing toward the car, she said, “Dad and I had some time and thought we’d take a road trip. We miss you, honey.” She patted his stubbled face gently. “I remember when you were a boy and wanted to shave every day like your daddy. I used to rub your smooth skin knowing you’d end up shaving for more years than you didn’t.”

Oh, damn. His mom had that faraway look in her eyes. That look always made him feel like a little boy in a man’s body. Before Ben could remind his mother that he was a grown man, his mother enlisted him to pull some groceries out of their car. “You brought groceries?”

“You know how isolated it is out here. We always start our guests off with something. A lot of times, they arrive at night after a long drive. The last thing they want to do is make that two-hour drive inland and back. It’s not the best way to start a vacation.”

As scheduled, Hannah’s SUV pulled into the driveway a few minutes after noon. Her eyes locked with his, then glanced at the red sedan. He made a tiny shrug. Distractedly, he realized that his parents had put more thought into their rental business than he re
alized. But he wanted to get to Hannah. He abandoned the paper bag inside the front door, damning the perishables to spoilage, and jogged toward his woman. Restraining himself, he gave Hannah the briefest of hugs. With his parents here, he couldn’t grab her, swing her in the air, kiss her senseless, or ask her the question that he really wanted an answer to—how long she was going to stay this time. Even if he’d had the guts to accost Hannah in front of his parents, his mother had insinuated himself between them before he got the chance.

Elaine extended her hand. “Hannah, so nice to see you again. Walter and I thought we’d come and check you in. We didn’t get the chance to welcome you last time with the impromptu nature of your stay.”

“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Cooper.” Hannah was gracious where he was not. “Ben, can you help me with Cody?” That husky voice grabbed at his balls and didn’t let go. He was glad he hadn’t abandoned the coat even though he was sweating in the heat of Indian summer.

Ben walked toward the back of the car and pulled open the door. The dog was still groggy from the tranquilizers and a little wobbly on his feet. Despite that, it was clear that Cody was glad to see him. The tail wag may have been slow, but was there. The dog
nuzzled his hand. He hadn’t realized until that moment that the dog had grown on him nearly as much as Hannah.

The radio segment must have reached a good stopping point because his father finally got out of the car, carried in the remai
ning groceries from their car, and then stopped to gather the half-dozen or so paper shopping bags Hannah had brought as well. The refrigerator and cabinets filled up quickly.

His mom and Hannah laughed in the kitchen, probably at their shared idea of stocking up. A New York accent he didn’t know Hannah possessed, snuck out in conversation with his mom. His dad had disappeared with the dog, walking off Cody’s tranquili
zers. A few minutes later, Hannah and his mom brought an impromptu lunch of tuna salad to the table. Even though his hunger wasn’t for food, he pulled the cloth napkin from the table and sat politely, counting the minutes until his parents would leave them alone. The anticipation of waiting for Hannah, had him feeling like a teenager wading through a interminable family dinner before a hot date.

“So Benji, Hallie is having a little ‘hundred-day’ party for L
ogan’s
baek-il
,” his mother said, stumbling a little over the Korean phrase, “and we thought we’d invite you, since we’re here. Hannah, you’re more than welcome to come. I told Marty and Hallie about you, and they’re looking forward to meeting you.”

Check in, my ass. Ben shook his head. He couldn’t believe he’d almost fallen for his mother’s bullshit. Elaine Cooper was a New York hustler at heart. She always had an ulterior motive. They’d used Hannah as an excuse once. He should have known they’d do it again.

“I’d love to go meet Marty and his family as long as Ben is game,” Hannah said sweetly. What the hell was that about? Didn’t she understand he’d rather cut off his own hand than spend time pretending to be brothers with Marty? How had Hannah turned on him like that? If he said anything but yes at this point, he’d come across as the biggest asshole in the world.

“Fine, Mom, fine. You got me. I’ll go to the party. That doesn’t mean we’re going to be blood brothers or something. As far as I’m concerned, I have only one sister.”

Walter walked in the door at that moment, dog in tow. Cody looked refreshed, and almost sober. His father looked a little flushed from the exercise. He took off his doctor hat for a moment, not wanting to spend the remaining hour or so worrying about his father’s health. “Good news, Walter. Ben and Hannah are coming to the party.”

His father nodded as if Ben’s acquiescence were no big deal, and came to the table, helping himself to the salad. Now, that his parents’ work was done, they prattled on about the regular inan
ities—departmental politics at Davis, gossip about the neighbors, and what geniuses Abbe’s offspring were.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his parents, but after two hours of lunch, showing Hannah how every switch, dial and plug worked, and their meandering conversation, he was ready to bid them far
ewell. Now that he was going to the damned party, he’d see them in a couple of days. In between, he wanted to reacquaint himself with Hannah’s body.

As they descended the stairs after a more than thorough expl
anation of the Jacuzzi’s controls—and he tried to steer his mind away from all the things he’d like to do to Hannah in the whirlpool tub—his dad clutched at his chest.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

“I have a little tightness here,” his dad said patting his chest, probably in time with his rapid heartbeat.

“Mr. Cooper, please lay down for a minute,” Hannah implored. She jogged down the few remaining stairs and pulled the throw blanket off the couch. He and his mom helped his dad down the steps, and laid him down. Ben was immediately regretful that he’d been so ready to shoo off his ageing parents.

“Do we need to call your cardiologist back home?”

Walter waved away all the attention. “Ben, Elaine, I’m fine. This happens from time to time. I thought I told you that. The d
ecaf I ordered at Starbuck’s was probably switched with fully loaded coffee. My mistake for not double checking. Don’t worry. The dysrhythmia makes me feel a little weird when my heart goes too fast. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Walter, I don’t think we should drive home today. It’s a long way back. I’m sure Ben won’t mind us staying over at his place. Would you, honey?”

Every fantasy he’d had about this first real night with Hannah dissipated like smoke. Foiled for the time being, Ben tried not to sigh with frustration. He felt like a shitty son, thinking of sex when his father was hurting. “Mom, of course that’s not a problem.” Ben’s dad had sipped some water, gotten to his feet, and announced he was ready to go. Elaine got him situated in the passenger seat of their sedan.

Ben looked pleadingly at Hannah. “Ben, go, I understand. I’m not going anywhere,” she said when they were alone for a brief moment. Relief flooded his body.

His parents’ one night rest stop turned into two. They all set out early Sunday for the four-hour drive to Davis. It was the first time he was alone with Hannah. And while it was not as horizontal as he might have preferred, it would have to do for now. Especially as his parents were following behind in their car.

“How was your time in Orange County?”

“Difficult,” Hannah answered.

“How?”

“Putting your life on hold is impossible,” she said. The phrase ‘on hold’ jerked him back to reality. But what did he expect? She wasn’t going to sell her house, quit everything, to follow him after only knowing him a few days. “A two week hiatus to explore yourself is fine. Running away like Elizabeth Gilbert, without an advance or a book deal, seems a little crazy.”

“Did you tell anyone about me?” He swallowed. “Us?”

“My mom.”

“How long can you stay this time?”

“As long as I need to.”

It had taken some convincing from Hannah, but he’d finally r
elented and chosen her BMW for the drive down. Between the more comfortable amenities and navigation, it won out over Ben’s more utilitarian vehicle. Halfway through the trip, he had to admit that it was a fun car to drive. And the navigation system saved them from consulting the map Ben kept in his glove compartment. The pinpoint directions led them right to the Wexler house. Ben didn’t know what he’d expected from Marty Wexler, half brother, but the house they pulled up to several hours and hundreds of miles later, was a typical mid-century ranch with gabled roof and diamond paned front windows. He parked Hannah’s car behind his parents’ sedan.

Ben was grateful there was already a crowd when they got to the house. If it was this busy while they were there, it would save him from having to interact with the man who embodied the worst period in his parents’ marriage.

Hannah pulled him toward the kitchen, pastel blue gift-wrapped box in hand. She’d insisted that they stop for a gift at Westlake Plaza before they got to the party. He didn’t know why it was necessary when the parents themselves hadn’t even invited him to the party. Hannah said it didn’t matter how they’d come to be there, they should get a card and a gift. From the tall pyramid of multi-colored and beribboned boxes towering on the dining room table, she’d been right. How any three month old could ever need so much stuff, he’d never know, but at least he hadn’t embarrassed himself.

Ben’s sister Abbe, two-year old glued to her hip, bore down on them like a tiger going for prey. His sister took after their mother. There wasn’t a shy bone in her body.

“You must be Hannah?” She thrust out her free hand. “This is Vienna,” she said, cocking her head toward the tired little girl, her eyes red, auburn Shirley Temple ringlets drooping. “And she’s tired already. Why do people have parties at naptime?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Hannah answered matter-of-factly. “I don’t go to a lot of kids’ parties.”

Abbe smacked an open palm on her head, dramatically. “Of course, you and Ben are child-free. Enjoy it. Impromptu sex gets a lot harder with little ones running around. They never nap enough for you to get in more than a quickie.”

BOOK: The Good Enough Husband
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