Wife On Approval

Paige thought she saw a flicker of annoyance cross Austin’s face.

Jennifer’s announcement was interesting, Paige thought, in several ways. Because the child had taken her father’s statement seriously enough to repeat. Because he’d said it in the first place. Because it so obviously indicated that he intended to avoid Paige. And most of all, because he was clearly put out at his daughter for bringing the matter up.

“Again?” Sabrina asked.

“We’ve already met,” Paige said. She tried to make it sound casual. “I was just leaving the apartment this evening when Mr. Weaver and Jennifer arrived.” She offered a hand to the child. “Will you shake hands? I wouldn’t dream of patting you on the head, you see.”

Jennifer giggled. “She tried again when we were leaving to come over here. It’s because my daddy is—”

“Very tired from a long drive,” Austin said smoothly. “And it’s time for us to go. Thank Ms. Saunders again for your room, Jennifer.”

“It’s nice,” the child said dutifully. “I didn’t want to leave my other one, you know, because my mother planned it all for me before she died.”

I don’t have a forwarding address, Austin had said. Paige had thought he was simply being irreverent. Only in retrospect did she hear pain under the flippant words.

Paige closed her eyes and heard in her brain the echo of every catty comment she’d made in that short conversation with him this afternoon. The relationship obviously wasn’t successful…. People do crazy things after a divorce…. Your bad choices aren’t my responsibility…. At least I learned my lesson….

Her head ached at the memory of every one of those statements—all unfounded, all judgmental, all wrong. Dead wrong.

Why had she never even considered the possibility that Jennifer’s mother had died? Why had she so blithely assumed that relationship, too, must have ended in divorce?

Because, Paige accused herself, he divorced you—and you wanted to believe that he couldn’t commit himself to another woman any more than he could to you.

She’d been determined to believe him incapable of forming a lasting bond with any woman. Even though she’d been faced with the fact that he’d devoted himself to his daughter—evidence that he was capable of loyalty—Paige had chosen to consider it unimportant. She’d told herself that to a man, his own little girl was a whole lot different than an adult woman.

She tried to catch his eye, but Austin had focused all his attention on Sabrina, sparing only a nod to Paige before turning toward the door.

“It’s time for me to be going, too,” Paige heard herself say.

Austin paused, a hesitation so brief and so quickly masked that she found herself wondering if she’d imagined it. But as he held the door for her, she saw a speculative glimmer in his eyes.

She didn’t know if she was more annoyed with herself for making a probably rash move, or with him for reading unwarranted meaning into it.

“I do hope I haven’t left you with a wrong impression,” she said tartly as they stepped off the concrete porch and onto the uneven gravel of the driveway. “I certainly wouldn’t want to put myself in the same category as the super at Aspen Towers, coming up with one reason after another to cling to you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For assuming…” She realized too late that she had an extra—and very interested—listener, and tried to be oblique for the sake of the eavesdropping child. “It never occurred to me…I mean, that it might not have been divorce. Why didn’t you bother to correct me, Austin?”

Austin shrugged. “I suppose because it didn’t matter.”

He obviously wasn’t saying that his wife’s death didn’t matter. So, since it was perfectly clear what he was thinking, Paige told herself irritably, he might as well have just come straight out and said it. Because it doesn’t matter what you think of me.

She felt awkward. “Of course not,” she said quietly.

“As long as…I mean, before it comes up again…perhaps we should talk about how to deal with the past.”

“Our shared past, you mean? Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that? You seem to have made your choice already this evening when you referred to me as Mr. Weaver.”

“Oh. I suppose so, yes.” She paused beside her van, fumbling with her keys. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

Austin walked on toward the Jaguar parked just behind her van, then turned to face her once more. “I don’t suppose it’s any of my business,” he said finally, “but why haven’t you told them? Your partners, at least?”

Paige didn’t look at him. “Because it wasn’t important for them to know.”

“Really?” He opened the back door of the car for Jennifer and closed it behind her. “That’s very interesting.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Just this.” He took a few steps toward her and leaned against the front fender of his car, arms folded across his chest. “If the fact that we were once married isn’t important, Paige, then why on earth are you choosing to make a state secret of it?”

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN Paige came in the back door of the little bungalow, pausing to hang the minivan’s keys on the hook in the entryway, her mother was in the kitchen, stirring a saucepan of soup on the range.

The flickering light of a muted television set reflected off the chrome frame of Eileen’s wheelchair as she turned to face her daughter. “You were in such a hurry to take out the garbage this morning, Paige, that you forgot and left the milk on the top shelf of the refrigerator again. You know I can’t reach all the way up there to get it.”

Hello, darling. Did you have a good day? You look worried.

I am, Mother. Austin Weaver showed up in my life again. You remember Austin? The man I thought I loved?

Paige smothered a twinge of regret at the thought of a conversation that would probably never happen. It was hard sometimes for her to remember the woman Eileen had once been, before the debilitating effects of her illness had made her so negative, so hard to please.

“I’m sorry to have caused you the inconvenience, Mother.” Of course, Paige thought, considering the state of mind she’d been in this morning—knowing she would be spending the day among Austin’s possessions and in Austin’s new home—it was a wonder she hadn’t put the garbage in the refrigerator and the milk on the curb.

“Because of your thoughtlessness, I had to eat my cereal dry.”

“I’m sure Linda next door would have been happy to help.”

“You know how much I hate asking for favors from anyone.” Eileen cleared her throat and went on with a determined note in her voice. “At any rate, it’s done now, and there’s no point in dwelling on it. You were obviously too eager to get away from here even to notice what you were doing. I can’t help wondering, though, what you had on your mind this morning that was so important to you.”

So much more important than I am. She didn’t say it, but the hint was apparent in Eileen’s tone.

Paige picked up a stack of pink message slips from the desk in the corner of the kitchen. “I knew it was going to be a busy day, that’s all.”

“It must have been. You’re quite late.”

“I stopped to try on my dress for Sabrina’s wedding.” Eileen shook her head. “I wish you weren’t going to be part of that circus.”

“She’s one of my two best friends in the world, Mother. And despite the sheer number of guests who’ll be attending, she’s planning a simple and very tasteful wedding. There will be no elephants, no lion-tamers, no cotton candy, and no sequined top hats—I promise.”

Elaine sniffed. “I notice you didn’t bring the dress home. Does that mean you don’t want me to see it till it’s too late to object?”

“No, it just means I forgot it.” Paige flipped through the bits of paper. Most were requests from Rent-A-Wife clients for errands to be run or small jobs to be completed. There shouldn’t be anything urgent in this stack; if someone had called with a time-critical job, Eileen would have passed on the message to one of the partners immediately.

Eileen’s gaze sharpened. “Forgot it? I suppose she chose it at that lingerie place she likes so well. No doubt you’d be better covered in a swimsuit.”

Paige began sorting the messages into stacks. “Thanks for taking such good care of the phone calls today, Mom.”