for saying too much. It was none of his business anymore what she did, but it felt good telling him anyway. It had always felt good telling him everything.
“That's great.” He seemed to hop from one foot to the other, watching her, not sure what to say to her. “Any big stars in it?”
“A few.”
He lit a cigarette. He had never smoked before. “We haven't heard from your attorney yet.”
“I haven't had time to take care of it.” But that wasn't entirely true. She had been free for several months, not that he could know that. “You will.”
“Oh.”
And then the children came thundering down. He took all four of the older ones to lunch, offering to drive them in his new car. A 1949 Ford. It still looked practically new and Ward glanced apologetically at her. “A Duesenberg it's not, but it gets me back and forth to work.” She resisted the urge to tell him she still took the bus. The station wagon had finally died the month before, leaving them with no transportation at all. “Would you like to come to lunch with us, Faye?”
She started to say no, but the children begged her so loudly that it was easier just to give in and go, and part of her was curious about him, where he had been, what he had done, where he was living now. She wondered if he was still involved with Maisie Abernathie, but she told herself she didn't care anymore, and almost convinced herself until she saw the way the waitress looked at him and then she felt herself flush. He was still a very handsome young man, and women certainly seemed to notice him, more than men ever noticed her. But then, she still wore her wedding band, and everywhere she went, she dragged five children along.
“They're wonderful.” He praised her on the way home, as the four children pushed and shoved each other on the back seat of the dark blue Ford. “You've done a good job with them.”
“It isn't as if you've been gone for ten years, for heaven's sake, Ward.”
“It feels like it sometimes.” He was silent for a little while and then glanced at her when they paused at a red light. “I sure miss all of you.”
She wanted to blurt out “We miss you too,” but she forced herself to say nothing at all, and was surprised when she felt his hand on hers. “I've never stopped regretting what I did, if that counts at all.” His voice was so low the children couldn't hear, and they were making such a ruckus they wouldn't have heard anyway. “And I've never done it again. I haven't gone out with another woman since I walked out of our house.” “Our house,” strange words from him, referring to that awful place, and what he said touched her heart as her eyes filled with tears, and she turned to look at him. “I love you, Faye.” They were the words she had longed to hear for four months and instinctively she reached out her arms to him. They were at the house by then and the children tumbled out of the car. Ward told them to go inside, and he would be there momentarily. “Babe … I love you more than you'll ever know.”
“I love you too.” Suddenly she began to sob, and pulled away to look at him with ravaged eyes. “It's been so awful without you, Ward …”
“It was just as terrible for me. I thought I'd die without you and the kids. Suddenly, I realized all we had, even without our old life and a big house …”
“We don't need all that.” She sniffed and smiled. “But we do need you.”
“Not as much as I need you, Faye Thayer.” He looked at her hesitantly. “Or is it Faye Price again?”
She laughed through her tears. “Not a chance!” And at the same time noticed that he was still wearing his wedding band too. And at that exact moment, Greg was calling to him from the house.
“I'm coming, son! Just a minute.” He shouted back. There was so much left to say, but Faye slid slowly out of the car.
“Go ahead. They've missed you too.”
“Not half as much as I've missed them,” and then, with a look of desperation in his eyes, as he reached out and grabbed her arm, “Faye, please … can we try again? I'll do anything you want. I stopped drinking as soon as I left.