Holding Hands by Judith Arnold

Author:Judith Arnold
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: judith arnold novella romance romantic getaway cape cod dog sexy romantic

Chapter Four

THE POWER HADN’T RETURNED by the time they were done eating. They groped through their bags for their toiletries. Meredith hadn’t packed a nightgown—she’d been planning to wear the teddy to bed—and she donned a sweatshirt, which had the benefit of being warm and dry, necessary in the drafty dampness of the cabin. Scott never wore pajamas, and he slid beneath the covers clad in his boxer briefs and a cotton T-shirt.

How sexy, Meredith thought bitterly as she settled her head against the pillow. The most romantic thing they’d done that evening was to brush their teeth side by side at the sink in the bathroom, sharing the flashlight. While she’d been spitting minty foam into the basin, Scott had pointed out that she wouldn’t be able to recharge her phone. She in turn had pointed out that he wouldn’t be able to recharge his laptop, an observation that had left him brooding.

Laptop or no, he had no trouble falling asleep. He’d risen before dawn that morning, as usual, so she wasn’t surprised that he could lapse into a deep slumber within minutes of lowering his head to the pillow.

She couldn’t. She lay awake in the unfamiliar bed, listening to the wind wail outside, listening to the clatter of rain pelting the roof. Listening to the steady rhythm of Scott’s breathing and wondering if he had any idea of how unhappy and frightened she was.

She thought about her friend Leslie, who’d told her a year ago that she and her husband were divorcing. “Why?” Meredith had asked. “Did that bastard cheat on you?”

Leslie had laughed. “Nothing so dramatic. We just realized it was over. We weren’t growing anymore. We weren’t enjoying being married. Our marriage was in a coma, on a respirator. No longer breathing for itself. It could have gone on like that forever, but we decided to pull the plug and let it rest in peace.” Leslie was a nurse. She defined her world using medical metaphors.

Meredith thought about her mother, whose fifty-year marriage had ended in widowhood. Her mother had been a traditional wife, tending the house, raising the kids and making sure a hot meal was waiting for her husband as soon as he walked through the door at the end of a workday. He’d handled the bills, he’d chosen the vacation destinations, he’d doted on her mother and lavished her with gifts and called her his favorite little lady, and they’d both been content to fulfill their assigned roles.

Meredith thought about her sister, whose marriage was much like their mother’s had been. Suzanne never questioned whether a marriage should be something more than the routine rituals of a day. She’d confessed to Meredith once, after they’d both drunk a bit too much wine, that she was relieved the passion had gone out of their marriage. “I never liked sex that much,” she’d confided. “I just hope Steve never gets it in his head to ask the doctor for a Viagra prescription. As far as I’m concerned, things are perfect the way they are.

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