A Thread So Thin by Marie Bostwick Read Free Book Online Page A

I’m not ready to marry him.
    When I was a little girl, my father used to love Frank Sinatra. Dad was a history professor at the college in our town. Sometimes, after he came home for the day, he’d put Sinatra’s “Love and Marriage” on the stereo as loud as it would go and invade Mom’s kitchen, demanding she dance with him. She always protested that she was too busy for his nonsense but in the end, she always gave in, dancing around the kitchen with Dad while the rice boiled over or the pork chops burned. A lot of perfectly good meals got ruined as a result of Dad’s antics, but I didn’t mind. It was nice to see them whirling around the linoleum floor, locked in an embrace. It gave me a sense of security and a belief that love and marriage did indeed go together, that if you had the first, the second would inevitably follow, and love was a bond that cemented people together for life.
    I believed that for a long time. I believed it when I fell in love and married Rob Dixon, and I continued to believe it through the ups and downs of twenty-four years of marriage. I believed it until the day my divorce papers were finalized.
    I don’t believe it anymore. I wish I still could.
    The last few years have been simultaneously wonderful and terrible for me.
    On the terrible side, I lost my husband, my home, and my health. On the wonderful side, I regained my health and found a new home and new friendships, the kind of friendships I never would have believed existed before I came to New Bern. I’ve recaptured the dreams of my youth, opening a successful business that brings me incredible satisfaction. And, most astounding of all, I’ve found love again.
    I love Charlie, I do. But I’m not ready to marry him.
    Life can be tough, and I’ve got the scars to prove it. Some of them are healed and some of them, like the scars of betrayal from my failed marriage, are still raw. I told Charlie that from the very first and he said he understood, that he was willing to wait as long as he had to. But after all this time, his patience is beginning to wear thin.
    Charlie started to speak, but I interrupted him.
    “And don’t go asking me to name all those fine qualities you possess, Charlie. I won’t do it,” I said breezily, deliberately trying to distract him. “Because, as we both know, humility is not on the list. I’m not going to say anything that will make that ego of yours any more bloated than it already is.” I forced a grin.
    Charlie’s eyes searched my face for a moment, wondering if he should call my bluff and demand an answer to the unasked question I was so bent on ignoring. The smile faded from my face.
    Don’t do it. Please, Charlie. Don’t ask me. Not today.
    He rubbed his fingers across the ridge of his jaw, the way he does when he’s decided to change the subject, and put his fork down next to his plate.
    “All right, then,” he said. “If you won’t tell me, then you won’t. But you’d think that, every now and again, you might throw a fellow a bone. Just to keep his spirits up.”
    “Well, if you insist,” I said with a smile, relieved to be treading on less serious ground. “In addition to the other qualities I mentioned…”
    He pushed back his chair and got up from the table. I did the same. “You mean my duck confit, the absence of bald spots on my handsome head, and my trim physique?” He sucked in his stomach.
    “Yes. In addition to that, you’re an adventurous soul. Always ready to try new things. Sports in particular.”
    “Ha!” He laughed loudly and genuinely, and the tension between us dissipated, at least for the moment.
    “Don’t you try that on with me, Evelyn. I know your game. Flattery will get you nowhere. I said I’ll go skiing with you, but don’t expect me to enjoy it, all right?”
    “All right.”
    Charlie dug some bills out of his wallet and left them on the table next to the check. I put on my gloves and stood by the door, waiting for him.
    “Sure you