Barbara Dunlop: Marriage, Manhattan Style

Elizabeth watched him leave. The door swung shut behind him. The silence closed in around her. And the horrible feeling that she had made a terrible mistake by leaving him pounded relentlessly through her brain.

She didn’t move until Lucas cried from the nursery.

Then she dug deep and found a smile for the baby, changed him, gave him his bottle and a handful of dry cereal. Together they built a block tower on the living room floor and watched a cartoon movie.

Rena took weekends off, so Elizabeth cleaned up after Lucas. By the time she gave him a bath, tucked him in, did his small load of laundry, and made up his bottles for the morning, she was dead on her feet.

After changing into a nightgown she settled down with a comforter on the sofa. Despite Reed’s protests, she would sleep out here. It was less lonely than the bed.

She stared at the city light pattern on the high ceiling, telling herself she’d had no choice but to separate from Reed. Sharing such a minuscule portion of his life was worse than sharing none of it at all.

When his key turned in the lock, she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep.

She knew the exact second he spotted her. His footsteps froze, and he took a sharp breath. Then he moved to the side of the sofa.

“Elizabeth?”

She didn’t answer.

“I know you’re awake.”

How could he possibly know that?

She heard him crouch down beside her.

Astonishingly, there was a trace of humor in his voice. “When you’re asleep, you snore.”

Her eyes opened. “I do not.”

“It’s very quiet, and very ladylike, but you definitely snore.”

“You are lying.”

He gazed the length of her body under the comforter. “What are you doing, Elizabeth?”

“Sleeping.”

“My wife’s not sleeping on the couch.”

She struggled up onto her elbows. “Well, you’re way too tall. I barely fit.”

They both stared at each other in defiance.

“We have to share the bed,” he finally stated.

“We can’t share the bed.”

“It’s a big bed. I’ll stay on my side, you stay on yours.”

She gave her head an adamant shake. “That’s crazy.”

“Is there anything about this situation that’s not crazy?”

She couldn’t come up with an immediate answer.

His arms swept under her shoulders and knees.

“Reed!”

He lifted her. “You need your sleep. I need mine. And there’s only one way to get it.” He started for the bedroom.

His arms felt too good around her. His body felt too good against her. She had to fight to keep from melting into his strength. Twenty feet, ten, five, finally.

He stopped at the edge of the bed. He didn’t immediately put her down, but stared into her eyes for a long moment, making her want all the things she couldn’t have.

“Sleep well,” he finally murmured then laid her gently down on the comforter.

Within seconds, he’d disappeared into the en suite. The fan began to whirr, and the water drummed against the floor of the shower.

Elizabeth buried her head firmly in her pillow and sobbed in utter frustration.

Elizabeth awoke to silence. She’d slept deeply, and it took her a second to figure out why she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. But then she remembered. Reed was leaving, and the pain came flooding back in force.

Morning sunshine fought its way through the bedroom curtains, confusing her. Lucas usually woke her up by seven. Lucas. Her gaze flew to the bedside clock, and she discovered it was nearly ten.

What was the matter with Lucas?

She sprang out of bed and jogged down the hall in her wrinkled nightgown.

His crib was empty. Panic clawed at her throat. But then she heard it. The gurgling sound of his voice. And then Reed’s voice.

“The trick,” Reed intoned, “is to make sure your foundation is solid. That means we use the red blocks first.”

Lucas cooed in apparent agreement.

Elizabeth made her way down the hall. She stood in the doorway for a minute, watching the colorful tower go up before Reed spotted her.

“Good morning,” he said, no inflection in his voice.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

He usually headed into the office first thing.

“You were tired,” he said, keeping his attention focused on Lucas and the blocks.

“I could have-”

“You were tired.” There was a snap in his voice this time, and his annoyed gaze met hers.

She cleared her throat. “I can take it from here.”

“No problem,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to go into the office today.”

Elizabeth blinked, trying to make the words compute.

“I’ve invited my parents for dinner.”

Raw panic hit her system. “You did what?” Anton and Jacqueline here? In the middle of this? Her gaze flew around the slightly messy room.

“I invited my parents for dinner,” he repeated.

“Why?” she wailed. “Rena’s off. Did you call a caterer?” She rushed toward the kitchen. Was the Alençon tablecloth ironed? Did they have fresh candles? What about a centerpiece?

“I told them we’d send out for pizza.”

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, turning to stare at Reed. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” She really wasn’t in the mood.

“No joke. They want to meet Lucas.”

“You are planning to serve Anton and Jacqueline Wellington take-out pizza?” They were the reigning king and queen of New York society.

“I did warn them.”

“You can’t do this. I’ll be mortified. They’ll think I’m the worst hostess in the world. They already don’t like me.” Not that it mattered. They weren’t going to be her in-laws much longer.

Reed came to his feet. “You worry too much.”

“No. I don’t worry nearly enough.”

“I’ll grab a six-pack to go with it.”

“You absolutely will not. I’ll going down to Pinetta’s to pick up some filets. Do we still have that black labeled merlot in the wine rack?” Where was her purse?

Reed grasped her arm to stop her. “You’re in your nightgown.”

Elizabeth glanced down. She took a breath. “I’ll change first…of course.”

“You’re not changing.” He gave his head a shake. “I mean, you’re not rushing out for filets. I told them pizza, and we’re serving pizza.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Was he punishing her for leaving him? She searched his expression. “Do you hate me that much?”

He instantly let go of her arm, his gaze fixing on the wall behind her. “I don’t hate you, Elizabeth.” He seemed to gather his thoughts. “You’re busy. You’re exhausted. And you’re upset. I’ve chosen this moment to take a stand against my father. If he wants to visit Lucas on short notice, he can do so while noshing on take-out pizza and sipping a beer.”

The fight went out of Elizabeth. “So this is about you and your father? Not about punishing me?”

Reed’s eyes narrowed. “ Punishing you?”

She swallowed. “For leaving you.”

He stared down at her while Lucas clattered blocks in the background, and a muscle ticked to life near his temple. “I would never, ever do a single thing to harm you. You are my wife, and I will protect you until you force me to stop. Understand?”

Her chest tightened painfully, and Elizabeth felt teary all over again. “Yes,” she whispered. “We can serve pizza.”

Reed could tell that Elizabeth was nervous.

He’d relented and allowed Elizabeth to order a centerpiece and use a tablecloth. And he would admit that it was entertaining to watch his mother tackle a slice of pizza on Wedgewood China with sterling silverware. She had pronounced it delicious. Elizabeth obviously hadn’t believed her.