I nod, pleased he remembered.
The conversation drifts to other topics—what we did after high school, my job, my husband’s job. I learn that Sue Anne works part-time as a speech therapist. We didn’t really know each other in high school, but we have an easy rapport. It’s like catching up with an old friend.
“What happened with you and Sue Anne?” I find myself asking. Too late, I realize I’ve overstepped the bounds of casual acquaintance. “I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to ask.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure it out myself.” He turns on the blinker for a right turn.
“What did you come up with?”
“I think our marriage died by degrees, you know? We took each other for granted and quit really being a couple. We focused on other things. And then... well, a guy she met through work started giving her a lot of attention, and it was a fast downward slide from there.”
It’s hard to imagine Brett Ross being thrown over for another man. “I’m sorry.”
He lifts his shoulders. “The hardest part was Petey.”
“How old is he?”
Brett turns onto a busy four-lane road. “Just turned six.”
“How long were you married?”
“Eight years.”
“That’s all? But you dated in high school!”
“We broke up a few times before we got engaged. How about you?”
“Three years.”
“Ah! You’re still in the honeymoon phase.”
I force a smile. “I don’t think I’d call it that.”
He keeps his eyes on the road. “Well, moving is a big stress factor.”
“So is infertility.”
He looks at me, his eyes sympathetic. “That’s a rough one.”
My face heats. “I don’t know why I just blurted that out. I don’t usually talk about it. Please—don’t repeat it to anyone we went to school with.”
“I wouldn’t. But just for the record, I don’t regularly hang out with anyone from school anymore.” He looks at me again. “And you know what? I don’t usually talk about what ended my marriage, either. I haven’t even told my parents that Sue Anne cheated on me.”
“Oh, God—parents are the worst, aren’t they? I’d rather slit my wrists than tell mine something disappointing.”
“Amen to that. Sue Anne and I had been separated three months and the divorce was filed and nearly over, and I hadn’t even told them we’d split up. They thought I was staying in a house I was flipping because there was a problem with vandals. Then my brother saw Sue Anne at a restaurant with this other guy.” He grins. “It’s kind of comical, actually. My brother marched over to their table and confronted them. He was shocked when Sue Anne told him our divorce would be final in another couple of weeks.” We drove in silence for a few moments. “My brother came to see me, mad as hell. ‘What do you think family is for?’ he said.”
“That sounds like my sister this morning,” I say. “I finally told her a little about a... a situation I’m having, and she was furious I hadn’t confided in her earlier.”
The conversation shifts to college and his football career, and before I know it, he turns the Porsche in to a driveway. I’m startled; I haven’t been paying attention at all to where we were driving.
“Okay,” he says. “Here’s the first house. What do you think?”
It’s a nondescript beige brick ranch. I make a face. “It looks like someone’s grandmother lives here.”
He laughs. “Yeah, it does. But by the time you get through renovating, it’ll be fabulous.”
“Whoa.” I hold up my hands. “Renovating?”
