Husband by Choice

And while the pantry was there for anyone to take what they needed, Jenna had left money in the donation box from her stash of cash after the other two had left the room. Too many women needed the free facilities offered at the shelter—those who had no money whatsoever because their abusers controlled all of their income. And while The Lemonade Stand had enough to go around, she wasn’t going to take from someone who was more in need.

Now she wished she’d never agreed to the dinner. How on earth she was going to keep up appearances, or be of any benefit to the two women sharing her space who were hurting so badly, she had no idea.

Jenna was strong. Capable. Tonight she just felt broken.

She’d slipped through the buses as soon as Caleb started toward her that afternoon. She’d run as fast as she could without drawing undue attention to herself. And as she’d rounded a corner, heading toward a bus stop she knew of on the next block, she’d tripped and fallen. She was fine. Picked herself up. But not before a police officer had seen. Stopped her and asked if she was all right.

She’d tripped because she hadn’t seen the uneven crack in the sidewalk. Because she hadn’t been able to see much of anything through her tears....

She’d been a fool to go.

And couldn’t afford to be a fool twice.

* * *

“YOU NEED TO EAT, son.” Max sat at the kitchen table with Caleb on Sunday evening. He’d only been able to convince the toddler to sit at the table when he’d moved the booster seat to Meri’s chair.

“Mama,” Caleb said, his eyes big and moist as he glanced at Max. It was the only word the little boy had said since leaving the beach.

“You love hamburgers and French fries,” Max said, pointing to the opened paper wrappings spread in front of Caleb. He had his own disposable container in front of him. And took a bite of a sandwich he didn’t want, chewing on the cardboard-tasting substance, to convince his son that it was the thing to do.

And wondering when Chantel would call. Another day had passed. With Meri still out there.

“After you eat, we’ll go get ice cream,” he said, pulling the words from the pool of desperation settling in his midsection. He’d been an active dad from the moment of Caleb’s conception—eagerly sharing in every part of raising him that he could, from bringing him into the world to midnight feedings, first bath, first everythings....

He’d thought himself fully capable of every aspect of parenting.

He’d never realized how much Meri had done without him even being aware. He’d never realized quite how much her nurturing had filled up their son—and him, too....

He jumped when his cell phone rang, eager for news about his wife.

And then he saw who the caller was.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, answering because he knew she’d worry if he didn’t. “How was your week?”

He patiently half listened as she told him about her doctor’s visit, about his father’s refusal to slow down, and about a country-and-western show they’d seen at the clubhouse of their San Diego resort community the night before.

“How are Meri and Caleb?” she finally got around to asking the question he’d been dreading. He’d been debating what to tell his elderly parents, who’d taken Jill’s death hard. Because they took anything and everything hard if it had to do with their only son—a late-in-life baby that they’d never expected to have.

“They’re fine,” he said. “Busy as always.” And what in the hell was he going to do if she asked to speak with Meri?

“Did you go to the beach today?”

“Yes.”

Caleb was quietly eating his French fries now. Wonder of wonders. So Max continued, “We built a castle and then found things in the sand to serve as fish for the moat.”

“Any new words this week?”

Not unless you considered hearing Mama screeched over and over again with heartache. “No.”

“Dad and I would sure love to see you,” she said next. “It’s been a couple of weeks since you came down and kids grow up so fast....”

“We’ll talk it over and set a date,” he said, hating the lie, and the desperation pushing him into it. If he told his folks Meri was gone, it would be an official part of their family memories.

He wasn’t ready for that.

Or for the myriad questions her disappearance would raise. He didn’t have any answers to give them.