Long Road Home (The Barker Triplets 4)

“You look a bit peaked today and more than a little pale for my liking.”

“I didn’t sleep all that well, and this morning, I spent more time vomiting than anything else.” Bobbi was surprised to find she was hungry and picked up a biscuit. “I feel better now.”

“That’s good. You just eat and keep that baby fed.” Coral sat back. “Which reminds me, you really should see your doctor. The sooner the better. There’s a free clinic next parish over. I did that Google thing on the computer in the sunroom after Mackie helped me get on the darn thing.”

Bobbi was touched. “That was sweet, but I’m going to call my family doctor today and see what they say. If I can get in tomorrow or the next day, then I’ll take a quick trip home and be back before you know it.”

“What will you tell your husband?”

Her eyes slid from Coral’s direct gaze. “I’ll think of something.” Truthfully, after the wonderful night she’d had, Bobbi was more confused than ever. They’d had a great meal, listened to a band that should be on the radio, as far as Bobbi was concerned, and when they’d come back, Shane had paused outside her door, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I remember the rules.”

Her stomach had flipped over, and she’d been too close to inviting him in for her own good. But Shane hadn’t given her the opportunity. He’d taken a step back and, after one long, lingering look, disappeared inside his room. It wouldn’t take much for her to hop over that line to be with Shane and push aside all their problems, because being with him felt so damn good.

“I forgot how magical his smile is,” she murmured.

“What was that?”

Startled, Bobbi shook her head. “Nothing.”

Bobbi ate as much as she could and then settled back in her chair. Just like every other day she’d been here, the heat was something else. She supposed she’d gotten acclimated to it, because it didn’t seem to bother her as much.

“You and your husband seem to be getting on, I take it. He seemed to be in a good mood this morning when I got back from my walk with Marybeth.” Coral frowned. “Where does he go, exactly, and what does he do?”

Surprised, Bobbi turned to the woman. “He’s an artist.”

“I heard that, but what does that mean? Here in the South, an artist can mean a whole bunch of things. Why, the lady at the end of my street plants flowers in old toilets, plunks them on her front lawn, if you can believe it, and calls that art. And people pay good money for that stuff.” She looked up at the sky. “Lord, the world sure is a crazy place, and sorry for saying it.”

Bobbi giggled. “I’m sure Shane could make a toilet look like art, but that’s not what he does. He paints. Beautiful pieces. He’s had showings in major galleries all over the world and is supposed to have one in Paris in the fall, I think…but he’s been having trouble with it, so it’s partly why he came down here. He goes to some plantation that’s not far from here. An artist’s retreat, and he’s rented a private studio so he can work.”

“Your husband certainly is not what he appears to be.”

“Oh?” Bobbi arched a brow.

“When I first laid eyes on him, I thought he was nothing but trouble. The kind that most women should steer clear of.”

“He is nothing but trouble.” Again, his wicked smile flashed in Bobbi’s mind.

“He’s surprised me, is all. I thought artists were a refined sort of folk.” Coral chuckled. “And I just learned something new. Like everything else, I guess they come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and temperament.” She paused, stirring her morning tea. “I’m just glad you had a nice night.”

“We’ve had such a rough year, and last night was nice. Magical, even. Moss Growed Over was the perfect Southern flavor, and the food was amazing, the band was good, and Shane was…” She stumbled over her words. “God, it was like walking back in time to another life when love was enough, you know? When I could look into his eyes and know we were going to be okay because no matter what, we had each other.”

“Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?” Coral said lightly. “But you know that’s all mumbo jumbo and fairy-tale stuff. Love isn’t enough. It never is because the problem with love is that it grows and stretches thin and changes over time. Love is always evolving, and the trick is to know it. To know that you gotta work hard for what you want, because if that love is stretched too thin, why that little invisible string will snap clean off, and that’s when you’re in real trouble. You want to make sure you mend that string before it gets to that point. When a person realizes that, well, that’s when things start to fall into place. That’s when things get a little easier.”

Coral pushed her plate aside. “Do you know when the cracks started getting bigger? When all that love between the two of you got too thin and stretched and needed some patching?”

“It’s a bunch of things I guess, but one was more a problem for me, and I made it this monster in our marriage.”

“And what was that?” Coral gently prodded.

“I lost a baby when I was much younger.”

“Child, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Without getting into specifics, I’ve always known my chances to conceive were slim to none, but I thought about it constantly.” She looked down at her hands. “Maybe too much. It took over my life, I think to the point where it became almost an obsession. I’d been after Shane to adopt or for us to use a surrogate. But he didn’t want that. He said that we were enough. That if it was meant to be, it would happen on its own. He couldn’t understand why I wanted more, and after a while, it became this thing between us. A thing we didn’t talk about. A thing that burrowed beneath flesh and bone and only came out as a sharp word or nasty comment.”

She shook her head and shrugged. “I guess we took for granted that our love was enough, and as those barbs and nasty words got sharper and bigger, the anger that came with them did too. We started arguing about everything. But it was when we stopped arguing that I got scared. Shane was working in his studio night and day, and I… I was just existing, really. I enjoyed a good bottle of Pinot Grigio more than I did the company of my husband.”