He heard the crash behind him and whirled around to find the coffee mug shattered across the kitchen floor and Sharon looking at her husband as if viewing a ghost.
Chapter 19
Too many people offer God prayers with claw marks all over them.
—Mrs. Miracle
Sharon couldn’t have been more surprised if Elvis himself had showed up at the front door. Certainly the last person she’d expected to see was her own husband. She’d have thought he’d rather pluck chickens than chase after her. Not that he was exactly chasing her.
They stood a room apart, staring at one another, each waiting for the other to speak first. Neither seemed willing to be the first to breach the gap.
“I came to talk to my wife,” Jerry announced stiffly to Seth.
“Talk…fine. I’m sure you two would like some privacy.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Sharon said, preferring that her son-in-law stay in the room. If Jerry assumed they could neatly sweep everything under the carpet, he’d made a wasted trip.
“The hell it isn’t,” Jerry argued. “I didn’t come all this way to be left standing on the porch twiddling my thumbs.”
To Sharon’s way of thinking, that was exactly where he deserved to be. The man had put her through hell. By the time she’d arrived in Seattle she could barely function emotionally. Her husband and her best friend!
“Why don’t you two sit down here in the living room and sort matters out,” Seth suggested, and gestured toward the sofa. “I’ll clean up the spilled coffee and give you some space—I mean, peace.”
Jerry didn’t wait for Sharon to agree, but moved from the entry into the living room, hauling two suitcases with him. She was grateful to see him, if for no other reason than to have the clothes he’d brought along.
“Sharon?” Jerry waited for her.
It was either cause a scene or accept the only civil option available to her. Reluctantly she walked into the other room, sitting as far away from Jerry as possible.
The silence was thick and uncomfortable. She’d be damned before she’d speak first. An eternity passed, and the only sound came from Seth in the kitchen; soon that faded and disappeared.
“You forgot your medication,” Jerry said, and removed the brown drugstore bottle from his jacket pocket.
She supposed she should be grateful that he didn’t mention her luggage.
“I thought you might need your hormones.”
She didn’t know what it was that concerned Jerry about her pills. It was almost as though he feared she’d wake up with a beard one morning if she forgot to take them.
“Thank you,” she said, attempting to remain courteous without revealing how absolutely delighted she was to see him. She didn’t want to be, but she couldn’t keep her heart from banging against her chest. For forty years she’d loved this man, and despite their many differences she couldn’t stop.
That made her decision to divorce him all the more difficult, all the more painful. They’d grown apart and weren’t the same people any longer.
“About me and Maggie,” Jerry said, the words falling awkwardly from his lips. “It’s not what you…it’s not the way it looked.”
Sharon bided her time. She’d figured that out for herself. It’d taken her the better part of two days, but she knew in the deepest part of her soul that Jerry wouldn’t cheat on her. Furthermore, she trusted Maggie, who was happily married.
“We’d been having so many problems lately,” Jerry said, and cleared his throat. “I asked Maggie’s opinion.”
“About what?”
His face reddened slightly. “I thought you might need the dosage on your hormones upped or something.”
“You think what?”
“She understands you better than I do,” he shouted, his eyes boring into her accusingly. “I can’t ever talk to you anymore. I have to go to your friends to find out what you’re thinking. For all intents and purposes we’re living separate lives, and doing it in the same house. Something’s got to change.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Six months ago she would never have believed she and Jerry would consider such a drastic measure as divorce, but it appeared to be the only feasible solution to their troubles.
Jerry lowered his head and seemed to find it necessary to clean beneath his fingernails. He leveled his gaze at her and asked, “You believe me about Maggie, don’t you?”
Once her head had cleared, she’d suspected it was innocent. Perhaps because she so desperately wanted to believe her husband and her best friend wouldn’t betray her.