“Well, it may be time for both of you to think it through again.” Maryanne motioned to the pool. “She’s never going to want a family as much as you do. At least not in the same timeframe, and neither of you is getting any younger.”
Carly chuckled at her mother-in-law’s blunt observation. She was right on all counts, as usual. She wanted kids, and she wanted them now. Thirty-two wasn’t too old for having children by any means, but she wanted to be able to enjoy them while she had the energy. But divorce would mean admitting that counseling can’t fix some relationships. Admitting that her own marriage was unsalvageable would be a personal and professional blow. She’d been very vocal about relationships requiring compromise in the past, and her career might not be able to withstand the contradictions of her getting a divorce.
Chapter Four
The street was bare as Wynn drove to the end of the cul-de-sac. Mr. Pritchard was sitting on the porch in his chair, as usual, next to the one his wife used to occupy. She waved at Mr. P, but he didn’t acknowledge her. The unseasonably hot, rainy weather had become a glorious incubator for the weeds that had overtaken the flowerbed. Until this past year, their yard had always been pristine, the most beautiful on the block, and due to Mrs. Pritchard’s help, Wynn’s had been a close second. Once Mrs. P had retired from her elementary-school teaching position, she’d kept the flowers and the lawn meticulously groomed.
Not having any children of their own, Mrs. P had adopted her students and the people who lived in the neighborhood as family. Wynn missed Mrs. P’s friendly face. On most days when she came home, she and her husband would be out front to greet her with a pitcher of iced tea or at least throw her a wave as she drove up. Mrs. P seemed to make a special effort to be outside just as she came home. Their conversations always brightened her day.
She’d declined a few of their invitations for dinner over the years, but the many she’d accepted had been filled with great food and plenty of laughter. She’d also had a standing dinner date with Mrs. P on Mr. P’s bowling night, something she’d always looked forward to. After Mrs. P died, life was a struggle for everyone in the neighborhood, including Wynn. She’d invited Mr. P for dinner several times, and he’d accepted once or twice but eventually began declining each of her invitations and slowly slipped into the shell he kept himself isolated in now. Mr. P just wasn’t the same without Mrs. P. None of them were, really.
She hit the clicker and pulled into the garage before she walked down the driveway to get the mail. Junk, junk, bills, and a letter from her neighbor next door. What the fuck was that about? Couldn’t he just walk over and talk to her? What was up with people these days? She was so not in the mood for this today.
Your yard service was here at the crack of dawn again. If you don’t tell them to come after ten, I’m going to call the city and complain.
Your favorite neighbor, Jack.
The service had a schedule, so she didn’t decide when they came, and the city knew that about every lawn service and didn’t care as long as no one complained. After folding the letter and placing it neatly back into the envelope, she glanced up to see Jack staring at her from his porch, his chocolate Labrador retriever by his side. Most days she tossed his letters into the trash without a response, but what the hell? Why not top off this mega-shitty day with an argument?
She paced back toward the house. “If you’d stop letting your seventy-pound dog use my yard as a bathroom, I’d be more likely to take care of the noise issue.” She stopped halfway up the driveway, narrowed her eyes, and raised an eyebrow. “What in the world do you feed that animal?”
Jack waved a hand in front of him. “She’s a big dog, and she likes to explore.”
“That’s why they make leashes.” Buttercup ran across the lawn and nudged her head under Wynn’s hand. She stared straight ahead at her jackass of a neighbor and did her best to ignore the dog. Damn it. She squatted down in front of the huge, lovable, chocolate Lab and rubbed her ears. Trying to avoid the numerous sloppy kisses Buttercup gave was useless. She’d have to wash her face immediately when she got in the house. The dog was sweet as could be, but her neighbor was an astronomical asshole. If the ears of her own black Lab, Shadow, didn’t perk up every time she saw Buttercup, she’d have called animal control long ago. Until this point, she’d found it easier to just pay the lawn service an additional fee to clean up the mess.
“She hates leashes. I got her from the animal shelter last year. She’s a puppy-mill rescue, was chained up all the time.”
Her stomach clenched. She hadn’t known that. She stared into the dog’s beautiful brown eyes. She’d give Buttercup a pass on her bathroom habits, but Jack was getting nothing from her.
She kissed Buttercup on the nose. “I’ll look into getting the schedule changed,” she said as she stood. That would go on the bottom of her to-do list.
The shrill of Jack’s whistle pierced her ears, and Buttercup started running to him. “Gotta go. Work is calling.” He pointed to the headset around his neck.
“Right. Work,” she said as she hurried to her porch. He’d already taken too much of her time. Time she could be spending with her niece and nephew.
Dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, with a headset hanging around his neck, the guy looked like a gamer. In his mid-thirties, bloodshot eyes, uncombed hair, rubbing the shadow of a beard on his chin, he scored high on the nerd-cred scale. Probably stayed up all night playing in game forums. She couldn’t help but wonder what his gamer name was—Househoney, Eightoclock shadow, or just plain Jackass. He seemed to be home all the time, and Wynn rarely saw his wife anymore. She was probably out making the dollars to support his gaming habit. With that scenario in mind, she didn’t intend to change the lawn schedule. Nine o’clock was plenty late for mowing on a weekday. He just needed to get his lazy ass out of bed and find a job.
* * *
Carly felt Maryanne gently shaking her arm. “Don’t you need to get ready for dinner, dear?”
She pried open her eyes. “What?”
“I thought you and Jordan were going out tonight. Isn’t it your anniversary?”
She bolted forward and rubbed her face. “Oh my gosh. Yes. It was sort of our first date. How long was I out?” She’d dozed in the lounger, letting the sun warm her like a blanket.
“Not very long.” Maryanne smiled. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you. She scrunched her forehead. “Did you have a rough day?”
She moved her legs to the side of the lounger as she tried to shake the sleepy haze. “Not rough, just different than I expected. Some couples aren’t meant to be together.”
Maryanne smiled slightly. “Exactly my point earlier.” She patted Carly’s leg. “Think about what I said.”
“I will.” She took in a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.” She stood, wrapped her towel around her, and walked toward the house.
Carly stopped in the kitchen to pour herself a glass of merlot before she continued through the hallway and into the bedroom to shower and get ready for dinner. She’d taken a couple sips of wine and had just set the wineglass on the bathroom counter when she heard the kids shouting outside. She glanced through the window of the bedroom and saw Wynn running to the pool and launching into the water with her dog, Shadow, soaring in after her. The kids quickly swam to her and grabbed hold, one hanging on each of her shoulders. Shadow circled them briefly before she swam to the steps and sat.