Together by Christmas

“Yeah, I’m talking about Bernie. My goddamn wife of twelve years. Not that she seems to care how long we’ve been together or even that we have a daughter and a house and a life invested in each other.”

“Would you mind backtracking a minute here? I had no idea you and Bernie were having problems. What’s been going on?”

“Nothing’s been going on,” Chad said, his words heartfelt. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She never used to be so emotional. She says I’m not giving her enough attention—well, how is kicking me out of the house going to solve that?”

“Oh, Chad…”

“She says I’m spending all my time at work or with my buddies. But she never complained before. It’s not as if she doesn’t have friends…not to mention the nicest house in town and a luxury car. I’ve provided well for that woman. Last birthday I bought her one of those bracelets with the diamonds all around—”

“A tennis bracelet?”

“Yeah, that’s what the salesperson called it. But I might as well have bought her a bloody blender for all the points it earned me.”

She’d had no idea Chad and Bernie’s marriage was so precarious. From occasional comments of Chad’s, Miranda had surmised they weren’t the closest of couples. But they’d muddled through the years.

On reflection, she wasn’t that surprised they’d hit a snag. They’d married out of high school and Bernie had been pregnant at the time. Not the ideal prescription for wedded bliss.

Not that she was one to judge. After all, at thirty-two she still had no experience with marriage.

Glancing around, she noticed an open suitcase by the window. Some dirty dishes on the coffee table. On the floor, beside the sofa, lay a pillow and some blankets.

“So you’ve been staying here.”

“Hey, I have a pullout sofa bed, and a big-screen TV and a vending machine in the main room—all the comforts of home.” He managed a smile. A weak one.

She supposed he could camp out here as long as necessary. The convenient sofa bed reminded her of the bridge club talk.

“You haven’t done anything stupid, have you?”

He took a moment to digest her question, then protested. “Like sleep with someone else? Come on, Randy. You should know me better than that. ’Course I haven’t.”

But he’d probably had opportunities. Women were always interested in Chad. He hadn’t lost any of the looks or charm that had made him so popular in high school.

“There has to be something. Wives don’t kick their husbands out for no reason.” Another wild thought. “Bernie hasn’t found someone else?”

“God, no. I’m telling you, it isn’t anything like that—her falling in love with another guy or me crawling into bed with some woman. And don’t tell me it could be happening without me knowing, because in a town of five hundred people these things get around.”

Miranda believed him. Since about grade seven, when the girls had first starting taking note of the boys, Bernie had been devoted to Chad.

“This is awful, Chad. I wish I could help….”

“Having someone to talk to helps. You’ve always been that person for me, hey, Randy? Such a good pal. Too bad you and me weren’t the ones who fell in love back in grade twelve.”

Who says I didn’t fall in love with you, Chad? “Yeah, well, that’s probably why we’re still such good friends.”

“Right.”

She reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder, then noticed a framed collage on the wall next to him. The photographs, taken from years ago, included a snapshot of her and Chad on the night of their high school graduation. Not that they’d been dates. No, they’d each gone with someone else. She couldn’t remember either of the names at the moment.

On his desk stood more recent photos. One of Bernie, Chad and a cute little girl with a gap-toothed smile. Vicky was almost a teenager now.

“How’s your daughter taking this?”

“Oh, she’s a real trouper.” Chad straightened his back. “Bernie explained the situation to her. Married couples needing a little downtime, stuff like that.”

“Is that what this is, Chad? A little downtime?”

“I don’t know, Randy. Christ, I don’t know.” He sniffed, closer to tears than she’d ever seen him. “I don’t want my daughter to become another statistic. The victim of a broken home….”

“Surely it won’t come to that.”

He took a deep breath. Plucked at a loose thread in the cushion that separated them. “Bernie’s got me on a schedule. I see Vicky every other weekend, and Wednesdays I pick her up from piano lessons, then take her out for dinner. To the café.”

“She’s twelve now, right?”

“Yeah, she’s grown up fast. Just wait till you see her.”

“I have seen her. Ten minutes ago at Lucky’s. She’s lovely, Chad. But what about Bernie? Have you been talking to her?”

“Hardly. Just a minute here and there in passing.” He dropped his head into his hands, and Miranda patted his back sympathetically.

“Have you thought of marriage counseling?”

Incredulous, Chad stiffened and turned to her. “You’re kidding, right? Do you know what the guys would say when they found out? Hell, all Vicky’s friends would tease her at school….”

“Everyone knows you and Bernie aren’t living together, Chad. If you went to counseling, at least they could see that you’re trying to work things out. More important, Bernie would know you were serious about fixing things.”

“But that’s just the point. Nothing’s broken, so what is there to fix?”

Miranda struggled for patience. “Chad, don’t be a fool. You know damn well your marriage is in trouble.”

“Okay,” he admitted. “But counseling won’t help. Bernie’s made up her mind.”

Miranda felt as if her heart had stopped beating. “She wants a divorce?”

“No…” Chad waved a hand impatiently. “She’s got a list of three things she wants changed. She won’t let me move back in until I agree to all of them.”

“Three things. That doesn’t sound too bad. Why don’t you just concede the points and go home?”

Chad gave her a half smile, then shrugged. “Randy, one of them is that I have to stop being friends with you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“OUR FRIENDSHIP’S ALWAYS been completely aboveboard.” Miranda jumped up from the sofa. She hadn’t realized Bernie was aware she and Chad kept in touch. Not that it had been a secret or anything. She merely found it more convenient to send e-mails and make phone calls to Chad at his office.

“My wife knows that, Randy,” Chad assured her. “She’s just being unreasonable, trying to keep me on a short leash. But she’s always been jealous of you.”

The one-sided competition hadn’t been fostered by Miranda. Still, she’d been conscious—how could she not be—that Bernie had constantly compared the two of them. Miranda’s better marks at school had annoyed her. In sports, Bernie had always aimed to beat Miranda.