know. It happens. Hang in there.”
“I don’t feel like going to a café or bar, but if you’d like a glass of wine and some...” She looked in her basket. “Some cheese and grapes?”
“I don’t want to complicate your life at such a touchy time. But I sure wouldn’t mind a glass of wine. The only person I’ve had to talk to about all of this is a priest.” He grinned. “We should do this. We have war stories to share.”
“That sounds miserable.”
“It’s going to be perfectly nice. You’ll see you’re not the only one and you won’t tell me anything you’re not ready to talk about. Lauren, it would be nice if it was simple and amicable. I’ve heard that happens sometimes. But if you ask me, it’s damn rare. I thought I could just be strong, be a big guy and weather it, but I’m having a rough ride like most people do. You know what’s good, though?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“It won’t last forever. In my case, Pamela will find someone to take her mind off me. She usually does.”
She thought about this for a second, the idea of having him over. She wished she had her mom to talk to, but Honey had been bitter in some ways, having been abandoned herself. Not only had her young husband walked out on her and left her with two babies to support alone, but Brad had never fooled her. She knew he was a bastard from day one. At least there was Beth, who could be sympathetic and supportive, but Beth had a storybook marriage. Very human and earthy, married to a cop and with money always tight, but at the end of the day, she was secure in her marriage. There was only Ruby. And Ruby’s husband was recovering from a stroke.
“I need to get some plastic cups and plates,” she said.
“Great. Then I’ll follow you.” He lifted his basket. It contained only milk, bread and eggs. “Can I borrow your refrigerator?”
“Sure.”
For the first time since deciding to leave Brad she did not feel utterly alone. It would be good to have a friend who understood what it was like to end a marriage.
* * *
Beau followed Lauren to a neighborhood he knew and to a house that was easily as nice as his, but he’d bought his as a fixer-upper before he even met Pamela. Lauren unlocked the door for them and went straight to the kitchen, turning on the overhead lights. She set out the wine and cheese and some plastic plates and cups on the counter. “I don’t even have a coffee table,” she said. The house was vacant but for a single couch.
“I’m a guy,” he said. “I can put my drink on the floor and the plate on my knees. And I won’t spill.”
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Would you open the wine while I bring in some bags from the car?”
He held out his hand for her key fob. “I’ll open the wine and bring in the bags. Where are they?”
“Trunk. And thanks. I feel like I’ve just finished a marathon.”
“I know the feeling.”
He opened the wine then made fast work of bringing in the bags. She sat on the sofa—the kind of fancy, curved sofa in a light beige he wouldn’t have dared buy for his living room with two boys growing up. “You have more furniture coming?” he asked politely.
“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “A full complement, most of it in the next two to three days. Tables, chairs, television, bedroom furniture, guest room furniture. I’m taking some time off. I did that to meet deliveries but now I’m so glad I have the days off. I’m emotionally drained.”
“How’d your husband take it?” Beau asked.
“As though he’d been expecting it for years but didn’t think I’d ever have the guts to really do it. And then he warned me—he’d make me regret it. He didn’t say he loved me and couldn’t live without me, which wouldn’t have worked in any case. He said I was humiliating him.”
Beau winced. He recovered and said, “Look, I’m sorry to pry, but is there any chance he’d become violent?”
“Physically?” she asked. “And hurt his hands?”
“Is he the kind of man who could cause you physical harm? Disable your car? Set your house on fire? Anything?”
She stiffened, instantly at alert. “He’s so good at abusing me without lifting a finger, those things never occurred to me. He’s more likely to try to keep me from