I was also on edge because Bohannan was over to my place for dinner, and although he had brooked no further argument, and either Jason or Jesse slept on my couch since he said they were going to (and I had a feeling he stayed home so I wouldn’t freak about Celeste not being under his personal watch), now was the first time he was over for dinner alone.
And last, I was on edge because Bohannan played his cards close to his chest. I was getting a better bead on him, but I wasn’t even close to focused, and still…he wasn’t hiding that he was on edge.
So, of course, I stood across from him where he was seated at my bar, in each of my hands I held a plate covered in salmon and lemon couscous, and I threatened, “I’m throwing these in your face if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“Celeste is out on a date.”
Instantly distraught, I let both hands drop so the backs of them were lying on the counter, the plates on top.
Bohannan reached out, took one and put it on the placemat beside him, then the other, and put it before him.
“Bohannan,” I warned.
“Don’t worry, Jess is trailing her.”
I glared.
“And Jace is trailing him.”
I relaxed.
Then I tensed again.
“Is it Will?”
He nodded.
Now, I was hurt.
“When did this happen?” I asked, wounded that Celeste hadn’t told me.
She was a communicator of the Cade Bohannan variety, not like Jace and Jess, who both knew how to express themselves somewhat openly.
But she still shared, mostly through texts, things like, Do we really need algebra in real life? (to which, obviously, I replied, No), and Do you think I’d look good in red lipstick? (to which, obviously, I replied, Everyone looks good in red lipstick), and When are we starting dinner tonight? (which, obviously, meant she’d started cooking with me).
News of this import, I thought she’d give to me.
“It’s okay, baby,” Bohannan said gently. “It came as a surprise to her too. I guess he upped and asked her in chemistry today. She said yes, obviously. They got a malt after school at the Double D, went to a movie, and they’re having dinner after.”
Well then.
That meant she might not have had time to tell me.
“That’s a marathon date.”
“Figure the kid needs not to be home.”
I’d lay money on that being right.
But…
I studied him.
Wait.
Oh boy.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you gonna sit down beside me so we can eat?”
I rounded the counter and sat down beside him.
I even picked up my fork.
Then I turned to him and repeated, “What?”
His eyes moved over my face.
I waited impatiently.
As such, I lost my patience.
“Bohannan, what?”
“Kid’s solid. Dale’s a decent guy. The wife though,” he murmured.
I twisted to him. “Alice’s mother?”
“Dale cheated.”
The plot thickens.
“Go on.”
“They worked together. Audrey got pregnant. Dale divorced Will’s mom, married Audrey. Didn’t hide it so much that he did it because he thought it was the right thing for his unborn daughter. They had Alice.”
This put into question the Tri-Lake Chronicle’s depiction of them being as a church-going, close-knit family.
They could go to church and probably did.
The close-knit part though?
“Well…shit,” I whispered.
“Uh-huh,” he agreed.
“Does he love her?”
Bohannan shoved salmon in his mouth and gave me a side eye.
He didn’t love her.
Close-knit was out the window.
“Where’s the first wife?”
“In town.”
“Bitter? Vengeful?”
“Hurt. Reclusive. Wondering what she did wrong.”
“Still? After eight years?”
“Still,” Bohannan confirmed. “After eight years.”
That was losing-the-love-of-your-life kind of grieving.
I sat up. “Right. Now I’m getting pissed.”
“Sarah wouldn’t harm a fly. Literally. I’ve seen her shoo them out of the house.”
“Not about that.”
Bohannan turned to me. “I’m not gonna defend a guy who stepped out on his wife. I will say, he got his punishment.”
“Audrey isn’t cool?”
“Audrey’s known wide as a woman who gets what she wants.”
“Pregnancy a trap?”
“Generally accepted it was.”
“Was he unaware he wasn’t shooting blanks?” I asked sarcastically.
“I’m not exonerating him, Larue. He loved his first wife. He told me that a couple of nights ago, drunk and fucked up pretty much beyond recognition, and the fucked-up part wasn’t about the drink. Why he dipped his wick elsewhere, I don’t know. He says he doesn’t know. Though, that’s now, after nine years with his current wife and without the one he loved in his life. Bet if I asked nine years ago, he’d have a reason. And it wouldn’t be about Sarah, even though he’d tell himself it was. It’d be about him being weak.”
Considering my own history, and the fact that Bohannan had a dick (I assumed—alas, I hadn’t seen it), I asked a question I’d been longing to ask a man for thirty years.
“Why do you guys do that?”
I nearly reared back at the look on his face.
“What guys?”
“Okay, I’ll rephrase. Why do some guys do that?”
He turned to his plate, muttered, “Better,” and shoved salmon in his mouth.
Damn it all to hell.
I could fall in love with this man.
Crap.
“So?” I pushed.
He chewed, swallowed and turned back to me. “How do I know? I loved my wife. I fucked my wife. Didn’t stop attractive women being in my life, but I didn’t fuck them. Didn’t occur to me. So I can’t begin to answer that.”
Seriously?
“Are you for real?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, take a stab,” I pressed.
“I already did.”
“What?”
“Weak.”
“Oh. Yeah. You did say that,” I mumbled, finally turning to my food.
“Commit is the root of the word commitment,” he stated as I shoved in some salmon and couscous. “Some people find that hard. Just the word seems like it’s supposed to be work. You commit to a workout regime. You commit to a diet. You commit to earning a degree. You commit to a career. The way I see it, when you’re talking about a relationship, you don’t do it unless you feel it. If that means half the population of the planet didn’t commit to a partner, world would be better for it. Hearts gone unbroken.”
More pieces falling: Bohannan was a sage.
He kept giving me that.
“I hate the word commitment used about a relationship. It’s inaccurate. You’re with someone because you want to be with someone. A relationship is not a diet or a contract with an employer or a goal to be attained. It’s based, or it should be based, solely on feeling, intuition, attraction. It might be my inability to identify with someone who doesn’t think the same way I do, but unless you feel it, really feel it, you’ve got no business making a promise to another human being. The ‘work’ it’s supposed to be to keep a relationship strong will fail if you don’t have the foundation to be in that relationship in the first place, be it the strength of your feeling for them, or the strength of character to do right by them.”