Desert Gift by Sally John Read Free Book Online

at one full of small print, front and back. “Here’s a situation: ‘On your radio program an expert said that sometimes we get blindsided in a relationship. You said that was impossible if we stay open. My husband and I stayed open for sixteen years, through thick and thin.’” Danielle turned the card over. “‘Last week he moved out. No warning. No explanation. So why don’t you just—?’” Danielle cleared her throat and looked up. “Obviously this woman is in a great deal of pain. Dear, whoever you are, I hope that you’ll talk to one of our counselors here. They—”
    “Why don’t I just what?” The words burning in Jill’s chest jumped into complete sentences and found their way out. “Why don’t I just keep my big mouth shut? Great advice. I totally agree.” She looked out over the women, trying to find Gretchen, but saw only wavy lines as if the air itself churned as much as she did. “Four days ago I would have said we can’t stop the birds from flying over our heads, but we can most certainly prevent them from building a nest in our hair.”
    “Jill—”
    “I would have said, honey, if you’d kept your eyes and ears open, if you’d dotted all your i’s and crossed all your t’s, then you would not be in this predicament.” Her voice rose into tremor territory. “If you’d taken ownership of your relationship, he wouldn’t have left. He couldn’t have. He would have had no reason to. But now?” She paused, caught a breath, and lowered her voice. “Now I say that’s a bunch of cow manure. Pardon my French. And I am truly sorry for feeding you such false hope.”
    The women’s faces still floated before her. She heard their heavy silence.
    She turned and tried to bring Danielle into focus.
    “Jill, I’m sure you’ll agree there is always hope when we invite God into a situation. I do apologize for not censoring that card. In this class we are all about being real and this dear woman is—”
    “Being real? Try this one on for being real, Danielle: the way-cute Midwesterner wants a divorce.” She blew out a breath. How was it that she hadn’t told anyone close to her except Gretchen and now she could announce it to the world?
    A speechless Danielle stared, her mouth half-open.
    “It’s true. After all I’ve done, the birds have built a nest in my hair. You might want to reconsider recommending that book.” Anger engulfed her, an onslaught of rage that nauseated her. She had to get out of there.
    Gretchen touched her elbow.
    Jill grabbed her friend’s hand and stumbled along beside her, down from the platform, down from the top of the hill.

Chapter 6
    Chicago
    Sunday morning Jack sat in his basement nook, a home office Jill had created for him, a space located between the laundry and family rooms. He rarely worked in it, really didn’t need it, but had grown to appreciate it.
    From her undying determination to do things correctly— “A doctor should have his own professional space in the house, not a corner in the dining room!” —came a place of solitude. In recent months he had rediscovered that aspect and sought it out often. With Connor seldom at home, the dryer thumped only occasionally and there were no male teen voices booming around the pool table or at video games.
    Jack stared at the e-mail on his laptop, reading it for the umpteenth time since he’d first seen it on Thursday, the day Jill left. It was from their son, copied to both his and Jill’s addresses.
    Hey, Mom and Dad. Well, you’re probably in sunny SoCal by now. Just wanted to let you know Prof Isola is taking us to Prague. I’ve told you what a fanatic she is. Free time? E-mail? Phone calls? Not on my watch! So I’m OOT for about ten days. Later.
    “OOT” was Connor’s shorthand for “out of touch,” a phrase he made frequent use of. Jack figured it was code for “love you guys, but hey, I’m twenty-three, in Europe, got better things to do than chitchat.”
    Jack smiled. Connor was