Like Dandelion Dust by Karen Kingsbury Read Free Book Online Page A

talk. If he heard about the boy from Brent or Bubba, Rip would never forgive her. She took the glasses of juice to the table. “Thought you’d like a real breakfast on your first morning out.”
    “That’s my baby. The perfect homemaker.” He grabbed the frying pan and scraped the eggs into an empty serving dish. “Can’t believe I still know my way around the place.”
    Wendy looked back at the frying pan. Images of other men she’d entertained in this very kitchen flashed in her mind. If Rip found out about them, there’d be no reasoning with him. She already planned to deny any talk of cheating. But the boy . . .
    Rip was saying something, and she tried to focus. “. . . when I woke up, and sure enough—I checked the classifieds first thing, and there it was! Manager Wanted, Cleveland Regal Cinemas!” He slid his chair up to the table and raised his hands. “Everything’s falling into place.”
    Manager of a movie house? Rip had never held any manager jobs before, and him just out of prison? Wendy tried not to let her doubt show. It was possible, right? With Rip’s charm and all? She smiled. “That’s wonderful, Rip.” She took a sip of orange juice. “You can call about it after breakfast.”
    “That wasn’t the only one.” He took a large scoop of eggs and slapped it on his plate. “They got a whole list of jobs in auto work. Right up my alley, and . . .”
    Wendy stopped paying attention. She took some eggs, but after one bite she lost her appetite. In half a day she’d learned much about her husband’s transformation. He’d found religion, or so he said, gotten himself into some sort of counseling, and taken classes for something the prison people called “rage management.”
    The training was about to be tested.
    “Rip . . .” She looked up and met his eyes. His mouth hung open and he looked surprised. He was probably still talking. “Oh . . . sorry.” She set her fork down. Her hand was shaking. “Go ahead.”
    Rip hesitated. “That’s okay, baby.” He flashed a quick grin. “Must be important.” He set down his piece of toast. “What’s on your mind?”
    “Well,” she remembered to smile, but she could feel it stop far short of her eyes. She breathed out. Her stomach hurt. It felt like someone was turning a wrench on her insides, making them tighter with every tick of the clock. “There’s something you need to know.” Her voice grew soft, timid. “Something I wanted to tell you first thing when you got out.”
    Rip grew stone-still. His smile was still stuck on his face, but his eyes changed. Fear and curiosity, the hint of anger, and then a deliberate patience. Each emotion took turns with him. Even so, the only obvious sign that something wasn’t right was the way he held his glass of juice. He was squeezing it so tight his knuckles were white. Same way they were whenever Rip was about to hurl something across the room. “You, uh,” he gave a short laugh and set his juice glass down. “You cheatin’ on me, Wendy?”
    “No! Rip it’s nothing like that, nothing at all.” She stumbled over her words. “There’s no one else, I promise.” Not for six months, anyway. She swallowed. He hadn’t asked her to go on, but she had no choice. “That’s not it.” She picked up her fork and poked her sausage. Her eyes stayed on his. “Remember back when you first got sent away?”
    “Yeah. Worst day of my life.” Rip looked more relaxed. She wasn’t seeing someone else, so what was there to worry about, right? He took another swig of juice. “What about it?”
    “Okay, well—” She set her fork down again. Why was the room so stuffy? She stood, crossed the kitchen and slid open the window over the sink. “There. That’s better.” A few steps and she was back at the table.
    Rip was taking another piece of toast from the serving plate. He took a bite and started to chew. “So what about it?” He chuckled. “Used to be I couldn’t shut ya up. Now what—cat