The American Wife. Kristina McMorris

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СКАЧАТЬ warmth of his fingers on her face revived the memory of that day. He’d been there when she came home from visiting her father, another one-sided exchange. Lane had been in town for the weekend, relaxing on their couch while TJ finished up at the ball field. She’d walked in to find a fresh envelope from the Juilliard School of Music. Even though she’d predicted their decision—a surety after her poor audition—reading the actual form rejection had struck her with a reality that ripped through the seams of her soul. The reality of lost dreams, a lost life she had taken for granted.

      Until then, she had been proud of how dignified she’d been about it all. The perfect portrayal of strength in the face of disaster. But with the weight of that letter in her hands, dignity became too much to carry. When her strength buckled, Lane was the person who’d caught her. She literally cried on his shoulder, soaked his shirt with pent-up grief. He held her close and safe, stroked her hair. And once their lips joined, more than passion flowed through her; it was the peace of finding someone whose heart felt tailor-made to match hers alone.

      Now, with Lane’s hand on her cheek, her skin melting into his palm, she felt the same overwhelming emotion. The family she’d been raised in was gone, but she and Lane could start a family of their own. The kind she’d always dreamed of. Together, they could be happy.

      “Yes,” she answered.

      “Yes?” A request for clarity.

      “Yes.” She smiled. “I’ll marry you.”

      Recognition settled in his eyes and a grin across his face. He jumped to his feet and drew her up into his arms. Their hearts were pumping at the same rapid pace. “Oh, Maddie, I love you so much,” he said against her temple.

      “I love you too,” she whispered. She had conveyed the sentiment plenty of times, on notes she’d snuck into his pockets, or in letters she’d mailed to Stanford. Yet only now did she become aware of how much she meant the words.

      He leaned back and gazed at her, his eyes glinting with joy. Then he placed his curled fingers under her chin to bring her in for a kiss. Their mouths were a few inches apart when a voice cracked through the moment.

      “On

san,” Emma yelled. “I found one!”

      In an instant, they stood a respectable distance apart, though Maddie couldn’t say who had created the gap. How could she have forgotten where they were? That Emma, too, could have been watching?

      “Look!” The girl ran toward them, holding up something round and white. “It’s a whole sand dollar. And it’s not broken or chipped or anything. It’s a sign of good luck, right?”

      Lane gave Maddie a brief glance and grinned again. “Definitely.”

      “Did you know there’s five doves inside?” Emma asked Maddie. “And the North Star is in the middle, and an Easter lily’s around it?”

      Unable to speak, Maddie nodded.

      “Wow.” Emma studied the shell. “I can’t wait to show Papa. He’s gonna love it. Can we go home and show him? Can we?”

      Lane looked at his watch, then sighed. “I guess we’d better go. My train …”

      “Of course,” Maddie said, regaining her voice.

      He turned to his sister. “Hey, Em. Race you to the snack stand?” He didn’t have to ask twice. She automatically assumed a runner’s starting pose. “Ready?” he called out. “Set … go!”

      Unlike Emma, Lane didn’t dash away. He stepped back toward Maddie and, picking up from where he left off, he leaned in and placed his lips on hers. Although she closed her eyes, she saw a vision of strangers walking past, pointing, whispering their disapproval. And when the kiss ended, she couldn’t help feeling relieved.

      “See you next Saturday?” he asked.

      She prodded herself to nod.

      “You promise?”

      “Cross my heart,” she said lightly, pushing out a smile.

      He touched her check once more, then jogged off to catch up to his sister. After the two faded into the crowd, Maddie lowered herself onto the log. A chill from the wind prickled her neck. She crossed her arms and stared out into the endless ocean that stretched straight up into the clouds.

      Remembering Emma’s balloon, she panned the sky for what had become a tiny red dot. When it vanished from sight, she wondered how much pressure she, too, could take before bursting into nothing.

      

9

      “Got any idea what you’re lookin’ for?”

      TJ turned from the hardware store’s shelves to find his sister’s friend Jo. Her tone made clear she doubted he could find the right part on his own. Just the kind of conversation he needed after the lecture from his coach.

      “I got it handled.” He swung his attention back to the bins of gaskets, the same ones he’d been staring at for the past five minutes. The smells of kerosene and turpentine were making him light-headed, compounding his frustration.

      “Problem with the sink?”

      He edged out a nod.

      “Kitchen or bathroom?”

      “Kitchen,” he muttered, picking up a random gasket to study the thing. He was hoping she’d take her cue to move on to another customer roving her family’s store.

      But she didn’t. She continued to watch him, hands in the pockets of her gray work uniform. Her lips bowed in amusement. “You know, I could save you a whole lotta time if you let me help.”

      Was there a skywriter over his head today announcing he needed charity?

      He snapped his eyes to hers. “I said I got it.”

      Pink spread over her cheeks, a look of surprise, then aggravation. “Suit yourself.” She pivoted sharply on the heel of her loafer. By the time she exited the aisle, TJ saw himself for the jerk he’d been.

      “Shit.” He flung the gasket into the bin. Abandoning his sports bag on the cement floor, he trudged after her, ready to smooth the waters with the I’m-just-tired-and-have-a-lot-on-my-mind spiel. Sure it was only half the story, but no one needed to hear more. He rounded the corner and bumped a display of paint cans. The pyramid held its ground. Jo’s loose ponytail in his sights, he trailed toward the cashier’s table in front. He was about to call Jo’s name when a voice from the side stopped him cold.

      “TJ,” was all she needed to say and he knew it was Cindy Newman.

      The harsh fluorescent lights did nothing to take away from her stunning face, her knockout figure. The girl was known to pass as Veronica Lake any day of the week, and today was no exception. Her golden hair draped long and styled, her sundress snug around the curves. Her full lips shimmered in the same СКАЧАТЬ