Where My Heart Belongs (24 page)

Sunny began to cry fresh tears. “You can . . . say that . . . again.”

Kathy thought the storm appeared to be moving near them. She hoped she could get Sunny to calm enough to move this conversation home. “Sunny, I really want to work things out with you. I know that it’s just as much my responsibility as yours to overcome the past. And I want you to know that I’m trying.”

“I appreciate that.” Sunny buried her face in her hands and seemed to fight to control her tears.

“Can you tell me what’s brought all this on? Was it what I said at breakfast this morning?”

“No,” Sunny said, raising her face. “I . . . no . . . it wasn’t that.” She met Kathy’s gaze. “I miss my daughter. I miss Lucy.”

Kathy knew she would have to proceed carefully. “Where is she?”

“California. With her father.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Because Brian told me to leave and never come back.”

Kathy frowned. “But why? Why would he do that?”

“Because like most everyone else in my life, I’ve disappointed him. He believed something of me that wasn’t true.”

Kathy said nothing for a moment, then gently touched Sunny’s shoulder. “Please tell me about it.”

Sunny seemed resigned. She closed her eyes. “It started around Thanksgiving last year.”

Sunny felt pretty good about the upcoming holidays. It was a few days before Thanksgiving, and she hoped she might convince Brian to take a little vacation. Just the three of them. Lucy was almost three and quite easy to travel with. Sunny had been looking into accommodations in Mexico, thinking they could fly down on a Thursday and be back on Sunday night. She was hopeful that if she suggested just the short getaway, Brian would allow for it. And if not—if this was simply too soon to give him time to change his schedule—then she had in mind to suggest a little longer trip at Christmastime.

She heard him come into the house through the garage and squared her shoulders. It was never easy to convince him to take time off, but she felt it was absolutely necessary this time. He had promised after Lucy’s birth that he wouldn’t work so much, but he’d never honored that pledge.

“Hi . . . you look tired,” Sunny said as he came into the kitchen. She leaned back against the counter. “Rough day?”

“You could say that.” He reached for a glass and went immediately to the refrigerator. Opening the door, he pulled out a carton of orange juice. He poured himself a glass and drank a good portion before adding, “Everybody was in a bad mood. You’d think with the holidays coming up and the fact that we closed the office for Thursday and Friday, they’d be a little happier.”

Sunny thought this the perfect time to bring up her ideas. “Speaking of which, I was checking online and found some great deals to Mexico. Just tiny trips—no more than three or four days. I thought maybe we could take Lucy and go. You know, get a little sun and fun.”

“The sun’s bad for your skin and you know it,” he countered.

She laughed. “Well, I didn’t say we wouldn’t go without our hats and sunscreen.” She came to him and put her arms around his neck even though he held the glass of orange juice.

“It won’t work. I have too much paper work I’ve been putting off. I planned to use this time to get caught up.”

Sunny tried not to show her disappointment. She let go of her husband and backed up a few steps. “How about at Christmastime then. We could do something special. Maybe take a week.”

“How do you think we pay for all of this?” he questioned. “I have to work, Sunny. Money doesn’t just fall off trees.”

“I know that, Brian, but neither does good health. You’re wearing yourself out. Besides, you promised me. You promised you’d spend more time at home with Lucy and me.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, well you promised me more kids. I don’t see you trying to get pregnant.”

This had been an ongoing argument with them since Lucy turned a year old. Brian wanted a son. In fact, he wanted several sons. Sunny wasn’t opposed to more kids, but she felt it unfair to bring them into a home where their father was never around.

“Brian, I’ve tried to talk to you about this. You’re never home. I feel like this is the first time I’ve seen you in weeks. Even when you’re here you’re so worn out you don’t know which end is up. You go for a swim or lift weights, take a shower and read, and then go to bed. I’m not sure when we’d make another baby even if I thought it was a good idea.”

He slammed the glass down on the counter. “Maybe I’d be home more if I thought there was something to be here for.” He stormed out, not even bothering to look back.

Sunny found his attitude confusing. She’d done nothing but baby and pamper him since they married. She tried always to be considerate of his schedule. Maybe she’d been too considerate.

Three weeks later, as Christmas and Lucy’s birthday drew near, Sunny found herself facing another argument. She’d cornered Brian as he got ready for work. She was determined to get his promise that he’d be a part of Lucy’s third birthday.

“It’s just one day. Christmas and your daughter’s birthday. Everyone takes Christmas off.”

“Doctors can’t. People are still sick and injured. You know how it is, Sunny. Some of the worst accidents we’ve seen have happened around the holidays. I can’t make big plans because I promised to be on call in case there are emergencies. Lucy is a baby. She doesn’t care what day we celebrate her birthday.”

“Fine. Then tell me which day you’ll take off, and I’ll plan her party around that.”

Brian finished knotting his tie and shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way and you know it. Look, Sunny, my patients need me.”

“Your family does too,” Sunny replied, her voice edging on hysteria. “You don’t even care that we need you. You don’t care how often we want to spend time with you. I’ve thought about making appointments for Lucy and me, just so we’d get at least fifteen minutes of your undivided attention.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a drama queen. Why can’t you be happy with what you have? Go shopping—put Lucy in day care and get a job. I don’t care. Just find something to do that doesn’t involve me.”

“But I got married to you because I wanted to be involved with you,” Sunny countered. Tears began to fall, and she knew Brian would despise her for them. He thought tears were a woman’s game to control men. He said his mother had always used tears to manipulate his father— before she got religion.

“Look, I’m not going to fight anymore about this. I can’t take time off and you need to accept it.”

“Then you need to accept that there will be no more children. I won’t bring another baby into this house.”

“Are you threatening me?” Brian asked, crossing the room in three steps. Sunny cowered instinctively, which seemed to take him by surprise. Then he grew angry. “I’ve never touched you in anger. Why do you dodge away from me like I’m about to hit you? You know better.”

“Then why stomp across the room like some kind of force to be reckoned with?” Sunny straightened and wiped at her tears.

He shook his head and waved her off as a complete irritation. “You’re a child, Sunny. Grow up and realize that you can’t run the world or me. If you want to take a trip, take one, but leave me out of it.”

Sunny followed him from the room, her anger sufficiently stirred. “Maybe I will take a trip. A nice long trip— just me and Lucy.”

“Leave Lucy out of this,” he said over his shoulder as they went down the stairs.

“Why should I? I’m the only parent she knows.” Sunny was thankful her mother-in-law had kept Lucy overnight for some extended time together. She wouldn’t have to witness their angry words.

“Lucy knows I love her, unlike you. You’re so insecure, you have to be constantly fed a line of praise and compliments.” He cursed and went from table to table in the foyer as he searched for something. Probably his car keys.

Sunny smarted from the insult but knew there was some truth to the matter. She fought to keep from crying, but it was impossible with him acting this way.

“You know, I figured you’d be difficult. Drug addicts always are.”

“I’ve recovered,” she protested.

“Once an addict, always an addict. You’re weak, Sunny. It’s why you ran away from home. It’s why you ended up married to a wife beater. You draw tragedy to you like ants to ice cream. I despise it and you know it.”

“Stop throwing the past in my face. You have your problems too,” Sunny said, her voice breaking. “I . . . I’m . . . doing the best I can. I thought you cared about my needs.”

“Maybe I’d care more if there weren’t so many of them.” He finally located the things he’d been looking for and headed for the attached garage.

Sunny couldn’t help herself. She followed after him like a lost puppy—a kicked-in-the-ribs, lost puppy.

“Look, stop smothering me and putting demands on me that I can’t fulfill. I’m not going to put up with this. I’ll divorce you before I put up with much more.”

His declaration stopped Sunny in her steps. Brian continued to the garage, however. She heard his Jag roar to life, then listened as he peeled out of the garage and down the drive.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Sunny sank to the kitchen floor. Why did he have to be so mean? How could he possibly say the things he had said if he loved her?

No more than ten minutes had passed when the doorbell rang. Sunny rose slowly from the floor but figured to ignore it. She had no desire to see anyone. Then she worried that it might be Nancy bringing Lucy home. Something might be wrong. Composing herself as best she could, Sunny went to the door and answered it as it rang a third time.

“I was beginning to think nobody was home.” It was Rick Anniston, Brian’s partner. That is, if
partner
could even be used to describe the relationship those two shared.

Rick frowned. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

Sunny pulled back and shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She tightened the sash on her robe. “Brian’s already left.”

“Seriously, Sunny. What’s going on?”

“We fought. That’s all.”

“I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it.” He flashed her a smile.

“I appreciate that, but you can’t fix this. It’s the same old thing. Brian won’t take any time off to be with Lucy and me. I called him on it and he blew up.” She shrugged. “It’s that simple.”

“I’m sorry, Sunny. I guess we’re both suffering from Brian’s drive to be all things to all men. I’ve been turning to spiritual renewal for my peace of mind. Maybe you should consider the same.”

“I was raised religious,” Sunny said. “I didn’t care for the hypocrisy. I certainly don’t need to listen to one more speech about how bad I am.”

“He said that?” Rick took a step toward her. “He said you were bad?”

“He threw my past in my face and accused me of things.” Sunny began to cry again. “It’s all so unfair. I love him so much, and he treats me like dirt. I don’t understand. In the beginning he really seemed to care. I guess I’m just a trophy wife to him.” Blinded by tears, she turned to find a tissue, but instead found Rick’s strong arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Sunny. You’re a good woman and he should never have hurt you like that.”

Sunny resisted his touch, then gave in. It had been so long since anyone had held her—just hugged her or offered words of encouragement. Now Rick was here, and he seemed to know all the right things to say.

Mindless of wetting his suit with her tears, Sunny let her emotions drain. Neither one said a word. Rick simply held her and let her cry. There seemed to be something almost paternal in his touch. She thought of her father and cried all the harder.

“I should have known something like this was going on.”

Brian’s angry words caused both Rick and Sunny to jump. Neither one had heard him come back. Sunny raised her tearstained face to her husband. His rage was clear. He called her a string of ugly names, then grabbed her arm and pushed her to one side and faced Rick.

“Is this how you repay me for the support I’ve given you? For allowing you to come into my clinic and practice under my reputation and name in this community?”

“You don’t allow me to do much of anything in your practice,” Rick declared. “You’ve misjudged this situation, just as you generally misjudge everything. Sunny’s done nothing wrong. I came here a few minutes ago and found her crying. I didn’t come for some illicit affair.”

“Then why are you here?” Brian’s face grew beet red. “Why are you here with her dressed like that?” Sunny pulled at her robe self-consciously.

Rick reached into his pocket. “I came to give you this. It’s my resignation. I had my lawyer draw up papers. You can buy out my investment. I’ve decided to join another group.”

“Get out of here. I should have known you’d pull something like this. You never were worth trusting—that’s why I didn’t turn over my patients to you.”

“I was completely trustworthy, Brian. Just like your wife.”

“I said get out here. Both of you. I want you both out of my house.”

“This is my house too,” Sunny shot back. She took a step forward then halted at the look Brian threw her.

“Not anymore. I want you out of here. Go get dressed and pack your things.”

“You can’t just throw her out,” Rick protested. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

Brian threw a swing and narrowly missed connecting with Rick’s nose. “If you don’t go on your own, I’ll put you out myself.”

“Don’t fight. Please,” Sunny said, her mind a blur of unanswered questions. “I’ll get some things and leave. I just don’t want you to fight.” Desperation made her voice thick, and she knew something had happened that day that could never be fixed. Never be overcome. It was the end of the fairy tale, and no one was living happily ever after.

T
WENTY

A LOUD CRASH OF THUNDER brought Sunny into the present. She looked at the ugly sky and shook her head. “Guess we’d better head home, huh?”

Kathy looked up as if seeing it for the first time. “I was so engrossed in your story that I lost track of the weather. I think you’re right. We’d better get out of here.”

They hurried for their cars and headed back out the way they’d come in. The greenish sky swirled with thick billowing clouds. Sunny knew from her childhood that this usually meant hail—probably wind too. And sure enough, just as they reached the farm, the sky started chucking pea-size hail. The orange and yellow marigolds that lined the walkway were already drooping from the barrage.