“It’s a cool name,” Sam said. He sat down to his waffle, digging in with an appetite that she had never seen on a school Monday. When Sam had cleaned his plate, he rinsed and stashed it, then ran off to get his school things. Wendy watched in total amazement, which continued all through the drive to school, until she dropped him off.
Still pondering this mystery, she coaxed her clunker off to the bakery, hoping Sam’s good spirits would last.
As soon as she got in the door, she found Linette waiting. That was unusual. Wendy rarely saw her. The boss usually came in super early to get the day’s baking going, and then left before the store opened. She always came back when Wendy’s shift was over.
“Is everything all right?” Wendy asked.
Linette’s anxious expression didn’t change. “I was going to askyouthat.”
They both glanced around the empty prep room, but of course no one was in it except them. They could hear the cheerful chatter of Linette’s other employee out front as she dealt with the busy morning crowd.
Linette said, “I heard your car in the alley on Friday night. No one else did,” she added in haste, and Wendy wondered what Linette had seen in her face. “I’m used to keeping an ear cocked toward the alley. Kids,” she added.
Wendy gave a nod of understanding: parental vigilance. Because they were single parents, vigilance was 24/7.
“Trust me, if I’d had any idea that Bill Champlain was going to read that awful trash about ‘Cindy the Slob’—” Linette made air quotes as she scowled, “—on Friday, I would have begged you to stay far away. He truly hasn’t had any Cindy scenes for weeks, except a line or two when that horrible Stryker character growls manly threats into his phone. A line or two of self-importance and put-upon-ness—is that even a word?—and then it’s all shoot-em-up with an endless supply of Russian mobsters.”
Wendy laughed a little raggedly. “It sounds like the same book he was writing before I left him.” And then years of habit came out with, “And I’m sorry.”
“Why shouldyoube?” Linette said briskly.
Wendy said, “Apology for him, about him, anything to do with him, is a habit I’m trying to learn to break. I guess I’m sorry you have to listen to it?”
Linette tipped her head. “I wish I could predict he’ll never sell that book, but there’s at least one man in our group who really looks forward to Bill’s pages. Anyway, my point is, I feel terrible for talking you into coming, and thenthathappened. Who could believe it? If you were getting buckets of alimony, would you be working here?”
“I don’t get any,” Wendy said. “His lawyer, paid for by his parents, made sure of that. And he cheats on the child supports in every way he can.”
Linette snorted. “Now that sounds like Bill’s style. Anyway, I heard you drive away, and I was afraid you were cursing my name. Though you’d be perfectly justified.”
“You didn’t know,” Wendy said.
“That’s true.” Linette did a quick check of some rising dough, then sighed. “The thing is, I still wish you’d join the group.”
Wendy shuddered—and then felt badly when she saw Linette look away. “I’m sorry, Linette,” she said. “It’s not you. Or the group. It’s easier to stay entirely away, since the divorce, for a lot of reasons. The truth is, Bill is never going to forgive me for leaving him. And he makes that clear every time we have to interact. I dread running into him in a social situation—especially the thought of the fallout spilling onto our son, who is totally innocent. So it’s better if I remain a semi-hermit.”
“But that’s so unfair,” Linette exclaimed.
“In his eyes, I did promise to love and honor him for the rest of my days, and though ‘obey’ is no longer in the vows, he heard it in spirit. And I broke that promise.”
“Didn’t he break his first, by turning into…that?”
“But he didn’t. Really. He was always pretty much that way.”
Linette eyed her. “Tell me to butt out, and I’ll totally understand. But I don’t get it. If he’s always been like that, why did you marry him?”
Wendy laughed unsteadily. “I didn’t get it, either, until I had a ton of therapy. But old habits die hard, and I still hear that voice inside telling me it’s all my fault, I’m a disappointment, I should have tried harder.”
Linette blinked, then said, “I still don’t understand. Maybe this is why I can’t write romance, though I love reading them. I was lucky. Tom and I were friends, and it just sort of slowly changed from him and I into a ‘we’. No grand passion or anything, but we never had a bad day until he was gone. Maybe if I’d had a grand passion…”
“But I didn’t have a grand passion.” Wendy thought of the profound disappointment that had been her sex life, and a ragged laugh escaped her. “Not even.”
Linette moved suddenly, bustling out to the front room. That was abrupt, Wendy thought, laughing at herself as she put her things in the cubby and reached for her apron.
But then Linette was back, kicking the door shut between the prep room and the store. She set two coffees down, and said, “We’re about the same age. It seems to me that though a person can run into Bill in the unlikeliest places, always loud and pushy and argumentative, I’ve never seen you around town. All I knew was what Godiva told me, that you are a great cook, and a writer, but you need encouragement. And it sounds like you could use a friend. What the heck happened?”
“Shouldn’t I be working?”
“The morning rush has eased up out front. Consider this Baker Street’s version of HR. But you don’t have to talk,” Linette added quickly.
