Someday Home by Lauraine Snelling Read Free Book Online Page B

motion. “No problem, it’ll be dissipated by then, and besides, you could drive. You can drive a stick shift, right?”
    “Not for a long time.” So far he’d not allowed her to drive his baby. In fact, she’d hardly ridden in it.
    They danced again while their table was being cleared, but for some strange reason, the feeling of closeness was no longer present. He danced more like it was a chore than a delight. Despite all the surface glamour, this evening was beginning to seem weirdly wrong. She wanted to mend her marriage and bring Jack back to the intimacy they knew once upon a time. What was happening here?
    Back at the table she caught him checking his watch. “Do you have somewhere you have to be?”
    “Oh no, no, not at all.” He smiled but it never reached his eyes. “Now, how about we share a dessert, unless you want a whole one. Their crème brûlée is really good.”
    She ignored the feeling of unease she kept getting. “Share, huh? Can we not afford to each have one?”
    “Of course we can,” he snapped, and signaled the waiter. “Two, please.”
    “Of the usual?”
    “Yes.”
    “Jack, I meant that as a joke. You know, how we used to joke about not overspending?” She reached for his hand, but instead of taking hers, he withdrew his.
    “Oh, well, I—I guess I overreacted. Sorry.”
    Sorry, my foot. You’re furious. What is going on here? She took another sip of wine to make nice. It didn’t taste any better than before.
    He poured the remainder of the bottle in his glass, only a small amount.
    “Look, why don’t you take mine? I really would rather have tea with my dessert.” She pushed her glass over toward him.
    “You sure?”
    “Oh, my, yes. I’ve had plenty.” And besides, since I’ll be driving, I will not take any chance on being forced into a sobriety test.
    Conversation lagged, with her trying to come up with a topic for conversation that couldn’t be answered with one sentence or one word. Jack was normally a real talker, especially at his most charming and after a glass or two of wine. Maybe after so much wine, he became taciturn. He rarely drank so heavily. She heaved a sigh of relief when the dessert arrived and put in her order for the hibiscus rose tea.
    “If this is as good as it looks…” She picked up her spoon and broke the burnt sugar crust to scoop out the rich velvety crème. Her eyes closed, the better to appreciate the texture and flavor. “Oh my.”
    “I knew you’d like it.”
    “Eating this is a decadent delight.” She savored another spoonful. “This is the best I’ve ever tasted. I’d come here just for the dessert. I so want this evening to be a memorable one. Just think, as of tonight, we have been married twenty-five years. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
    Jack took more than one sip from his wineglass, more like a big swallow. While he nodded, he did not answer.
    She licked the spoon, looking at him at the same time. Sultry was the effect she was hoping for. She huskied her voice. “Let’s do another twenty-five, what do you say?”
    Jack stared at her. No smile, no nod, no affirmation.
    The silence sent a chill through her. Something was absolutely wrong here.
    “Angela, I’ve been wanting to tell you this, but I couldn’t find a good time.” He drained the glass, set it down, and laid his palms flat on the table. “I need to find out who I am.”
    Find out who I am? That was so 1960s. The chill deepened.
    He cleared his throat, firmed up his voice. “This afternoon I filed for divorce.”

Chapter Five
    `
    A re you ready, Miss Rutherford?” the elderly Realtor asked quietly.
    Judith Rutherford stared at her home and swallowed. Ready? Never.
    They stood together on the sidewalk in front of the stately three-story old home. Rutherford House, listed on the historical sites in the town of Rutherford, Minnesota, was an icon of the area and family owned since 1893, when lumber baron August Rutherford built the house for his bride.