Mr. And Mrs. Wrong

“I want us to go for marriage counseling.”

“Ah, hell, no. You can forget about that.”

“Jack, please. The least you can do is consider it. Don’t be pigheaded.”

“I’m not airing our problems in front of some stranger. I categorically refuse.”

She swore under her breath. “Fine. Then you come up with something. You never go along with anything I suggest.”

“If we’d dated longer or taken the time for a real engagement, we’d probably have worked out the things we’re fighting about now. Do you agree with that?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“So is there any rule that says we can’t start over again? That makes a hell of a lot more sense to me than going to some guy we don’t know and whining about how we don’t have anything in common.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

“That we pretend we’re not married and do it right this time. We go out. We try stuff we haven’t tried before and take an interest in each other’s hobbies. We get to know each other better.”

He’d caught her interest. Her mouth had started a slight upward turn. “As in a real courtship?” she asked.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it. Dates. Movies. Picnics. All the things couples do when they meet and start to fall in love, but that we didn’t do the first time around.”

“We spent all our time together in bed.”

“I know, and it was a mistake. But to prove my sincerity, I’ll even go fishing with you.”

“You’re joking. You hate the thought of baiting a hook.”

“You can do that part for me. And in return, I’ll teach you how to play golf.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste, then faked a smile. “Golf. Sounds…wonderful.”

“You don’t have to like it or even pretend to like it, but you do have to try it. That’ll be our new rule. We don’t discount anything, even if it doesn’t sound fun or it’s not what we’d normally do. If the other person enjoys it, we give it a shot.”

“Would you still keep the apartment?”

“For the time being.”

“Oh.” Her mouth fell a bit.

“That’s the sensible thing to do. Where we live is the biggest problem between us, and we’re not going to resolve it easily. We know that already. But we can make a commitment while we’re courting and try to mutually work out a solution.”

“Without fighting, I hope.”

“Definitely without fighting. No fighting will be allowed.”

“We could even pretend to get engaged after a few months, couldn’t we?”

“Absolutely. You could plan a real wedding this time.”

Her eyes lit up. “With a long dress and a church ceremony and everything?”

“If that would make you happy. Invitations. Reception. Flowers. The works.”

“Oh, Jack!”

“So what do you say?”

Her delight suddenly turned to obvious distress. Her whole body seemed to sag. “But we can’t. Oh, God, it would’ve been perfect, but we can’t do it. It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!” Pain leaped into her eyes. “Why couldn’t you have come up with this idea four months ago, instead of moving out and starting all your stupid games? Ooh, I could just kill you!”

“What the hell…” Why was she suddenly furious at him?

“We can’t have a courtship now!”

“Why not?”

“Because, Mr. ‘I forgot my basketball,’ I’m going to have a baby!”

THE WORD FLOORED suddenly made sense to Lucky as she watched Jack sway and his knees buckle. “Oh, no!” She grabbed him, but he was too heavy for her to keep upright. Muscle and bone seemed to melt and slide downward. All she could do was hold on around his middle and guide him as he sat down hard on the carpet.

He prided himself on being tough, but at the moment he looked more like a vulnerable little boy who’d gotten the shock of his life. Her anger fizzled, or maybe her love for him was stronger than her anger. She was equally responsible for this little problem, and it hadn’t been fair to put all the blame on him. And, too, this was supposed to be one of the happiest moments in a couple’s life, and she had spoiled it for him, for both of them. She’d never forgive herself for that.

“I’m so sorry.” She knelt and tried to help him regain his equilibrium. “I didn’t plan to tell you like this. I was heartless to blurt it out in anger. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… I didn’t expect… How did this happen? The pill’s supposed to be nearly one-hundred percent effective.”

“Nearly being the problem. My doctor said that in clinical trials, the type I was taking works ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, but in the real world, the failure rate is more like five to eight percent. Even missing one pill, or varying the time you take them each day, can cause disaster.”

“Did you skip one by mistake?”

“No, I’m positive I didn’t, but apparently certain other medications can also reduce their effectiveness.”

“Sinus infection,” he said, figuring it out.

“Uh-huh. I had that bad one in the spring. I received a shot and a prescription for antibiotics. If I’d known…”

“Hey, it doesn’t matter. Whatever the cause, I’m glad. Hell, I’m thrilled.” He grinned stupidly. “I’m going to be a father!”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while, but the right moment never came up.” This definitely wasn’t it, either. From the first day of their marriage he’d talked about having children. This news had to mean everything to him, and she’d hurled it at him like a stew pot.

“How long?” he asked. “I mean, when will it be here?”

“Early January. I’m a little over two months pregnant.”

“Is the baby okay? Are you okay?”

“We’re both fine. My blood pressure’s a tad high, but the doctor says it’s nothing to worry about as long as I try and stay relaxed. She actually wants me to gain a minimum of thirty pounds during the pregnancy because I’m too thin.”

“Damn, Lucky, you scared me. For a minute I thought you were going to tell me you wanted to call our marriage quits.”

“I can’t pretend that I haven’t seriously thought about it.”

He stared at her, even more dumbstruck than before. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not. I love you. Don’t ever doubt that. But we’ve had major problems from the beginning because we’re so different. Now with a baby coming, those problems will only get worse.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Yes, they will. You know they will.”

He seemed to catch his breath, and was able to stand. Pulling her close, he slid his arms around her. “Sweetheart…” He rubbed her back with soothing motions. “This is exactly what we need. We’ll be a family now. I can’t think of anything better….”

“And I can’t think of anything worse. Babies don’t repair bad marriages. They kill them.”

He pulled his head back so he could look at her, but still kept his hands loosely on her waist. “We don’t have a bad marriage, only a temporary bad spell. There’s a big difference.”

“I hope you’re right, and not only for the baby’s sake but for ours. I refuse to allow this child to grow up listening to us constantly quarrel. I’d rather separate permanently than have that happen.”

“That sounds like Leigh talking, not you.”

“Leigh has nothing to do with this.”

“Then why are you wanting to divorce me?”

“I don’t want to divorce you. I’m only trying to be realistic about our problems and do what’s best for our child.”

“Well, divorce sure as hell isn’t the answer.”

“Then tell me what is.”

“Being together.” He rubbed his fingers lightly against her belly. “That little baby in there needs us to be a family, Lucky. I need it, too.”

Her heart went out to him. “Oh, Jack…”

“Don’t give up on us.”

“I don’t want to, but…” She sighed, feeling so uncertain, so confused. They fought over the same issues again and again, and emotionally she simply couldn’t take it anymore. “I wish…we really could start over, like you suggested. Wiping the slate clean might have given us the second chance we needed.”

“We can still do it.”

She shook her head sadly. “It’s a little late for romance, don’t you think?”

“No, it’s a great time. Perfect.”

“Oh, sure. In a few months my belly button will stick out like it’s deformed, and I probably won’t be able to find my feet. You won’t want to even look at me, much less touch me. Stretch marks and romance aren’t a very good combination.”

“You’ll be beautiful with your sticking-out belly button. I can’t wait to see that. And I’ll always want to touch you, Lucky, stretch marks or not. Hell, I think about it all the time.”

“I’m about to get very fat. You realize that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you’ll finally have some boobs.”

His effort to produce a smile from her worked. She chuckled despite her gloom. “You’re horrible.” She moved in closer and played with the front of his shirt and the leather of his shoulder holster, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath them. “I thought you liked my flat chest and skinny legs,” she murmured.

“I love them. I love every part of you, from that spaced-out brain to those long, knobby toes.” He slid his hands down and over her butt. “I especially love the lower parts.”

“Oh, there you go again, trying to charm me out of my pants.”

He grinned with devilment.

She really should scold him, but Lord, he was cute when he was playful like this. And that smile… Seeing it always made her fall in love with him all over again.

“Stop worrying so much,” he suggested. “I promise you things will be better. I’ll even give more thought to marriage counseling if that’ll ease your mind. Okay?”

That lightened her mood considerably. “Okay.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy. Now, I think what we both need more than anything is to celebrate our news. We could go out, but you look tired, so you head on home and I’ll stop at the grocery store when I get off. You can put your feet up and I’ll come over and cook.”

“That sounds wonderful, but I can’t. I’m not through working and I have an assignment tonight.”

“Lucky, you were out before six o’clock this morning.”

“And I’ve been up since four, but I’m committed to taking photos at the Lions’ Club dinner. I won’t be home until after ten. I plan to hit the mattress one minute later.”

“You don’t need to be working those kinds of hours.”

“I agree and I’d rather spend tonight with you, but I promised Leigh and it’s too late to back out. How about we celebrate tomorrow? I’m off the next two days and I told her I absolutely wouldn’t work unless the town started to burn. Which, with the way my luck usually runs, is a possibility, so don’t light any matches.”

“I need to come in for a few hours in the morning and work on this Bagwell case—try to clear up some loose ends—but I should be through by lunch. We can do it after that.”

“I thought the death was a simple accident.”

“It probably is.”

“Probably?” She cocked her head. “Did you find something suspicious?”

“No, nothing unusual.”

“Then why do you still have loose ends? I figured this would be a down-and-dirty investigation.”

He gave her that look, the one that said she knew better than to ask.

“Oh, come on, Jack. I found the guy.”

“That doesn’t mean he belongs to you.”

“I know, but I feel somehow responsible for him. I want to follow through with this.”

“That’s my job. I don’t want you sniffing around in any more of my cases. Understood? I worry enough about you as it is. Don’t make things harder on me.”

“But maybe I can help. I know people you don’t. And his daughter, Carolyn, went to school with Shannon. I bet she’d talk to me.”

“I’ve already talked to her.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Nothing you need to know. About tomorrow…maybe we should make it a family celebration. Have you told your parents about the baby?”

Reluctantly she allowed him to change the subject. “Not yet.”

“Then we’ll get them and your grandmother out to your place and share the news. Ask Leigh to come, and call and see if Shannon and Bill are free. I’ll get Cal to help me move my stuff, and then I’ll grill hamburgers for everyone.”

Lucky’s heart sank. “You’re moving back in?”

“Well…yeah, unless you want to reconsider moving to the apartment.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then I guess I’m moving back in.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. We’d better keep things the way they are and not make any drastic changes. Let’s ease back into living together.”

“Wait a minute, what gives? Five minutes ago you wanted me to come home.”

“And five minutes ago you said no because you weren’t ready. Jack, I do want you home, more than anything on earth, but for the right reason. Let’s not jump from one mistake into an even bigger one.”

“I can’t think of any better reason than having a baby.”

“How about…you love your wife and want to be with her?”

“That, too.”

“Please be sure. This is such a major decision.”

“I am sure. Look…I can’t pretend I’m thrilled about living in that cramped cabin again, but if that’s what it takes to be with you during this pregnancy, then I’ll manage until we can come up with a solution. I’ve lived in worse places.”

“When you stayed with your cousin?”

“Who?”

“Your cousin. You said last night that you lived in the back of your cousin’s store while you worked for him.”

“Oh, yeah, I stayed there for a while after high school. It was pretty awful. No shower. No kitchen.”

She frowned. Hadn’t he said it’d been after his parents died? He’d been sixteen, not out of high school. And the way he’d told it before…he’d gone into the army right out of school.

An uneasiness settled over her, the same uneasiness she felt each time his past came up. Nothing he said about his early years ever seemed to mesh. But why?

CHAPTER FOUR

ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Lucky guided her small fishing boat into an isolated slough, turned off the motor and let it drift. Dusk was when she was most likely to see the panthers she’d been watching the past several weeks, but she hoped at least one would appear earlier.

She took a drink from her water bottle and wiped off the sweat that had formed under the brim of her Kiss A Bug cap. Jack and Cal were probably at the cabin by now, moving Jack’s clothes. The rest of her family would arrive soon.

Looking back, she couldn’t remember ever telling Jack he could move back in, but discussing it with him wasn’t worth the stress that would undoubtedly create. Peace and calm were what she and the baby needed right now, and the river provided it. She always felt better after a few hours with her old friend.

Most people only saw the main body of the Black Warrior and its headwaters, the Locust, Mulberry and Sipsey rivers, but its heart lay in places like this, the hidden ones, where the water seemed bottomless and the adjoining land appeared virtually untouched since prehistoric times.

The area wasn’t completely virgin, but she liked to think it was. Settlers, her ancestors among them, had planted cotton and corn in the low areas, harvested trees from the forests and dug coal from the banks and shoals. Before them, the Creek and Choctaw Indians inhabited these lands, and the river, or Apotaka Hache as the Choctaw called it, had been a border between the nations.

Before the modern Indians, the land was home to mound-building people in whose culture women, fertility and the river all played major roles. Lucky sometimes dug up their flint points or pottery shards when she planted her small garden.

She’d explored extensively the river and its forks, but it would take several lifetimes to see everything. The state, federal government and the University of Alabama all owned thousands of acres of trees and swampland she’d never walked. Probably few had in modern times. A surveyor or two, perhaps, or an occasional logger or pulpwood harvester.

This was her home, but more than that, it was a vital part of who she was. Take her outside the county and nothing about her was special. But here, on the river, she could name each insect, fish and bird. Here, she felt connected to her past and the generations of Mathisons who had come before her.

Her tie to the river was strong and unbreakable, something Jack could never understand. Giving it up wasn’t an option. She’d wither if she had to live in town again. And to leave Potock altogether, as he’d suggested more than once during their arguments, would surely kill her.

Maneuvering the boat closer to the bank into the shade of the trees, she stretched out on her stomach so she could watch the insects zigzagging across the surface of the water and observe the acrobatic dragonflies. Birds rustled in the underbrush. The water lapped gently against the side of the metal boat, almost lulling her to sleep.

Far off but coming closer, the heavy crunch of leaves intruded on the stillness. Something large was moving through the woods.

As quietly as she could, she sat up and brought the camera to her eye. She’d probably get only two or three shots of the panther before the sound of the autowinder scared him off. Each shot had to count. Except…this couldn’t be an animal; it was making too much noise. Only a human thrashed around like that.

The land sloped to the water down a hill tangled with plant growth. On her way out of the cabin, Lucky had grabbed her old Canon with its zoom lens, and she used it to focus on the faintly discernible path made by the tread of deer.

A man emerged with his head down, unaware of her presence, and went straight to the water. He crouched as if to take a drink, but instead, sank his bare arms in the water to the elbows. He brought them up, then slapped the surface several times, letting out a squeal each time.

Lucky continued to watch, feeling a bit anxious at the peculiarity of it. He seemed to be almost…playing.

Suddenly he sensed her and jerked up his head. Her viewfinder framed a face that represented every nightmare she’d had since the age of nine.

Terrell Wade.

She sucked in a breath. Fear kept her frozen, unable to move. She’d known the autistic man was back in Potock. Leigh had written a story at the time of his relocation.

He wasn’t supposed to be out unsupervised. The idea of him wandering around by the river and only a couple of miles from her cabin sent a chill running along Lucy’s backbone.

No more than fifteen feet separated them. If he took a few steps to his right, he’d be close enough to the bow of her boat to get in.

She lowered her camera bit by bit so as not to startle him, until it hung heavily by the strap around her neck. If he made a move, she wanted to be able to grab something to defend herself. She might have time to get the motor cranked if he came at her, but maybe not.

For what seemed an eternity, he did nothing but stare back from his catlike position. That in itself was enough to unnerve her. She’d never seen his eyes before. She couldn’t recall him ever holding his head high enough that anyone could see his eyes. He’d always kept his face down when you came near, as if ashamed or afraid.

Did he remember what she’d done to him?

Did he even recognize her as the child who had condemned him?

He cocked his head, then sprang upright. Lucky jumped just as quickly and lunged forward, but her sudden movement upset the boat and set it rocking. For a heartbeat she held on to the paddle and her balance, but then she lost both. The paddle flew out of her hand into the water and the lens of her camera bounced up and smacked her above the left eye, nearly knocking her out.

What people said about seeing stars was true. They sparkled for a second in front of her, then gave way to pain. Blood clouded her vision.

The boat drifted. She scrambled for the motor, pushed the primer button and pulled the cord, but it didn’t crank. Desperately she hit the button again. A second and third pull of the cord produced no results.

Terrell moved, coming along the bank as she feared.

Ten feet away.

He had something in his hand.

Five feet away.

He stepped into the boat and reached out toward her.

Once, when Lucky was small, she’d picked up a pretty black-and-red-striped ant that had promptly stung her hand. She’d screamed so loud that her granddaddy had said she’d blistered his eardrums.

The scream she let out this time was louder.

WITH CAL’S HELP, Jack hauled over what personal items he needed for the next few days and set about replacing the old fan in the living room with something that actually stirred the air. He’d bought a second unit to install in the bedroom.

When he was growing up, he’d promised himself he’d never live in another dump, that when he had a house of his own, it would be a nice house, nothing too fancy, but sturdily built and roomy enough to raise kids the way they should be raised.

He never again wanted to wonder if the water was hot or the refrigerator had food. He’d had his fill of peeling paint, cast-off furniture and paper-thin walls.

He looked around and shook his head. Well, this dump, at least, was clean. No rats trying to take a bite out of him in the middle of the night. No bugs except the ones Lucky caught to photograph.

Snakes…now, that was something he’d have to talk to her about. Snakes inside were unacceptable from now on, along with any kind of animal, dead or alive, except for her dog.

With some work, he could make the cabin more livable. New plasterboard for the walls and fresh paint would help. New tin for the roof and exterior would go a long way toward making it look better.

He sincerely hoped they’d be gone before the cold weather came. He could tolerate cold, and winters here were mild compared to what he’d experienced in Pittsburgh, but he’d found out the hard way that the dampness penetrated everything on the river. The few months he’d spent with Lucky in the cabin last winter had been miserable for him.

The rent at his apartment was paid through the end of next month, so he’d decided to keep most of his clothes there and move the rest only when he had no other choice.

The cabin had an attached storage room with a rack for hangers, but Lucky had fishing poles, life jackets and God knows what else crammed in there. She’d have to clean out her junk again to make space for him to put his good shirts and suits.

“This clunker’s been here a lot of years,” Cal said from the stepladder. He loosened the last screw on the fan and together they brought it down and set it on the floor. “I was only a kid when Dad and my granddaddy put it up.”

“Did your dad grow up here?”

“Sure did. Him and my uncle Steve. My grandmother hated the place, but Granddaddy’s people had lived here for generations, so he wouldn’t budge.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Yeah,” Cal said with a nod, “pretty much the same story as you and Lucky.”

Jack stepped back and the dog let out a yelp. He knelt and petted her. “Sorry, Beanie, but you’ve got to stay out from under my feet.” She looked up at him with big eyes that said he was forgiven, thumping her tail against the floor.

Her breed was indecipherable. She had the face of a hound, but her body seemed an amalgamation of hound and terrier. Black, shaggy hair covered all of her except her muzzle, which had turned gray with age.

Usually her hair drooped and covered her eyes, making him wonder how she could possibly see. Since today was a special occasion, he’d pinned it back with a pink bow-shaped barrette, an old one of Lucky’s from when her hair was long.

The dog wasn’t pretty, but she was the first pet he’d ever owned, and he liked the experience. Well, technically she belonged to Lucky, but Beanie didn’t understand that.

“The more time that dog spends with you, the more worthless she becomes,” Cal said. “Could she get any fatter?”

Beanie thumped her tail again, knowing they were talking about her. She seemed to smile.