Three Sisters. Сьюзен Мэллери

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      “It’s gonna be great. It’s in the mountains and there’s horses, but the best part is I get to help write a real play and then we perform it and everything.”

      “Wow. I want to go, too.”

      “I’m very excited,” Gabby confessed.

      “I’m getting that.” Andi pulled her stethoscope out of her pocket. “Do you ride horses?”

      “I’m gonna learn.”

      She started the exam, working slowly, making sure Gabby was still talking about camp rather than worrying about whether or not anything was going to hurt. When mother and daughter left the room, she made a few notes on the chart and then sighed. This was going to be a good day.

      * * *

      Monday night Deanna loaded the last two pictures onto the family’s Facebook page, then scanned her latest entry. It was an update on how the girls were doing in school. She was less concerned about spelling and grammar than tone. She didn’t want anyone reading the words to guess there was something wrong.

      Keeping up the facade of “Gee, of course I’m fine. Why do you ask?” was exhausting. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. She spent most nights lying awake in the large bed, wondering how everything had gotten so messed up and trying to figure out why she was the bad guy.

      If she were like her mother, she would understand Madison’s resentment and Colin’s horrible accusations. But she wasn’t. Her house was clean, she prepared meals, gave them positive attention. No one found her drunk, unconscious in her own vomit. She’d never once raised a hand to her children, let alone beaten them. They didn’t flinch when she walked by.

      But they didn’t adore her—not the way they adored their father. They didn’t run to her or light up when she walked into a room, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why not.

      She tried telling herself it was because Colin was gone so much. He was less accessible than her. But she wasn’t sure she could believe that reasoning. So it had to be something else. If only she knew what.

      She rubbed her temples, wishing her eyes didn’t burn so much.

      “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

      Deanna looked up and saw Colin walking into the study. They’d barely spoken since his verbal attack in the park on Friday, and she sure didn’t want to speak to him now. But there were logistics to be worked out.

      “When will you be back?” she asked.

      “Thursday.” He closed the study door behind him and walked toward the desk. “Have you thought about what we talked about last week?”

      She stood so she could glare directly at him and not have to look up. “We didn’t talk. You told me everything I’m doing wrong and then you left. That’s not a conversation.”

      He studied her. “You’re right. So let’s talk now.”

      “I’ve spent my life taking care of you and the girls and all I get is accusations and bitterness.”

      “You’re expecting gratitude?”

      Of course. She’d been a damn good mother and an excellent wife. Not that any of them appreciated her. “I don’t want to be your punching bag.”

      He raised his eyebrows. “That’s extreme.”

      “What would you call it? You say those things, and then you turn my children from me.” Her throat tightened, but she refused to show weakness. “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything left to give.”

      “Then we have a problem, because I do want more. I want to be a part of things.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

      “What does that mean?”

      “That means you lighten up a little. There are dozens of rules for everything the girls or I do. You want to be in complete control of where we go, what we wear, what we eat.”

      “I cook dinner and make lunch. That’s not control.” The unfairness stung. “I keep a calendar of activities so I know who has to be driven where. Why are you twisting everything I do?”

      She wanted to tell him if he was so unhappy, he could leave. Only she wasn’t ready for that. To be left.

      “You’re making me sound like a monster and I’m not.”

      His expression tightened. “Tonight at dinner, Audrey asked for a second helping of lasagna and you told her no.”

      “She’d had enough.”

      “How do you know? She told me later that she’d dropped her sandwich on the floor in the cafeteria, and one of the teachers had thrown it out. She didn’t have any money, so she couldn’t buy lunch. Your daughter had eaten only an apple for lunch and was starving.”

      Deanna felt herself flush. “She should have said something.”

      “And risk you yelling at her? It was easier to go hungry.”

      “I don’t yell.” She didn’t yell. She spoke firmly and reasonably.

      “You scare her. Hell, you scare me.”

      “I wish that were true.”

      He shook his head. “I know you mean well, Deanna, but you’re not easy. I was raised to think that as our children’s mother, you knew best. I don’t believe that anymore. I think there are issues from your past that—”

      She slapped her hands on the desk and glared at him. “You leave my mother out of this, you hear me?”

      He raised both arms in a gesture of surrender. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about it? We won’t. Here’s what I know. I’m spending more than half my life on the road. I’m missing my children growing up. I’m not here for them and I want to be. I understand that I make more money on the road, but we’re going to have to learn to get by on less. I want to be here. I want to go to games and performances. I want to take them to their various play dates. I want to meet their friends.”

      Leaving her with what? Deanna wondered. He was trying to push her out of her own life.

      “The second thing I want is to understand what you think of me. Of us.” His mouth twisted slightly. “I doubt you still love me and I’m not sure you even like me. I suspect you’re a lot more fond of our lifestyle than our marriage.” He shrugged. “I’d like to be wrong, but I don’t think so.”

      He glanced past her, then returned his gaze to her face. “Was it ever about me or was I a means to an end?”

      The insults burned to her bones, while fear held her in an icy grip.

      “How dare you?” she said, her voice low and angry.

      “Right. How dare I? It’s only my marriage, too.”

      She wanted to throw something. To hit him and hurt him the СКАЧАТЬ