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bring Michelle back. “Not sure when she’ll be here,” he’d said. “And I told her no hurry. After all, she’s giving up the whole week so Michelle can stay here.” He scooped up a book he’d been reading and headed for the sofa in the family room. “So I just took the day off.”

I hadn’t wanted to contend that if he had told me he was taking a day, I would have, too. That we could have spent the day relaxing together. Stretched out on opposite sofas, reading or watching a movie on the VCR. I also didn’t intend to argue that Cindie hadn’t given up anything for anybody except herself. For whatever reason, she hadn’t wanted Michelle to come to Atlanta for the week and had chosen to drive down. Perhaps so she could let Westley know about the marriage and/or the baby … all of which she could have done on the phone.

I shrugged. I’d spent entirely too much time thinking and worrying about it since Saturday morning. Saturday morning and all Saturday afternoon and into the evening, a night which should have been the romantic new beginning I’d prayed for since Westley’s heart attack. Instead, I sat across from Westley over an intimate dinner at Henry’s debating with myself the issues of Cindie and what a new little brother or sister would mean for Michelle. Not that it mattered; despite the amorous setting of the restaurant, Westley’s mind seemed just as preoccupied, a fact that only worsened my concerns. Was he thinking the same I was but not wanting to let on? Protecting me in true Westley fashion?

But I didn’t need protecting. I needed the truth and I needed a crystal ball and I needed my husband pulling my body to his and I needed—

“Here you go,” Ro-Bay said, interrupting my thoughts. So much so, I jumped. “My, now. What’s got you on edge?”

I reached for the cup and saucer. With one look I could see that the coffee had been prepared exactly to my taste. Ro-Bay knew me about as well as anyone, and I smiled as I brought the cup to my lips, remembering our first encounter. I’d been so young then. So frightened. So... innocent. But no more. The innocence had been shattered and the woman who had initially invoked fear was now considered a friend.

I swallowed the first sip. “Ro-Bay? Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

Ignoring her, I pressed on. “Is it normal for a man and woman to grow apart from time to time? You know, in marriage?”

Ro-Bay crossed her arms and huffed. “How long you been married now? Just a smidge over ten years?”

“Mm-hm.” I placed the cup and saucer close enough to reach but far enough from the stacks of work awaiting me. “Westley says it’s the heart attack. The meds.” Heat rose in my cheeks and I pressed my fingertips against it. “I cannot believe I’m saying this.”

Ro-Bay found an occasional chair and pulled it to the opposite side of the desk. “Now, you listen. I not your mama and I sure not Miss Justine, but I’m a woman and I’ve been married a good long time. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you need to nip that thing right in the bud.”

I wanted to laugh but couldn’t find the strength. “Westley says his—his lack of—interest—is from the medication.”

“Well, if that’s so, my next question would be wondering how long he’s gonna be on it.”

I shook my head. “I’m hoping that at the six-month mark they’ll wean him off.” Wean. The same word Westley used. Like a baby from her mother’s breast.

Ro-Bay appeared to ponder my circumstance before she spoke. “Honey, you listen, now. Marriage is more than what happens between the sheets. And when you spoke those vows some ten years ago you said, ‘in sickness and in health.’”

“I know.”

“Well, this here is the sickness part. Happened to my husband, too—different reasons—and I don’t wonder but what it don’t happen to every man once in a while. But don’t you worry none. It took some time with mine, but it came back.” She chuckled. “And, when it did …” She laughed again. “You just keep on loving your man in all other ways and soon enough it’ll be set to rights.”

I folded my arms and rested them on the desktop. “It’s more than that, Ro-Bay. More than … sex. Westley seems so preoccupied. There’s … something. I don’t know what. Something between us and I can’t figure it out.”

“Another woman?”

“I don’t think so.”

“No, course not. That boy loves you.”

I gave a half smile. “If you say so.”

She stood. “Trust me on that one.” She returned the chair and headed for the door. “Now on to my mopping and waxing. Something sticky on the floor near the fridge and I bet I know who made the mess.”

This time my smile was genuine. “Have fun. And thanks for the coffee.”

I had worked a good hour, keeping my ears peeled for the sound of footsteps overhead or coming down the staircase, but hearing nothing but the tick-tock of the old cuckoo on one of the shelves. Then, as though I’d woken from a dream, I felt, rather than saw, Biff leaning against the jamb in that way he had of owning a room without entering it. “I heard you surprised your mother with a visit,” I said by way of hello, my stomach quivering enough that I feared he may hear the tremble.

He grinned at me—perfect white teeth showing off his handsome face, making him more attractive than a man his age had a right to be. And, certainly, more alluring than I should have good sense to note, despite my current circumstance. But I couldn’t help it; the man simply stirred something inside me … no matter that he was old enough to be my … uncle. “Rose Beth, no doubt.” He pretended to pout. “Can you believe she won’t let me in the kitchen

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