Lisa Dyson - A Perfect Homecoming

Both had agreed they wouldn’t spend money they didn’t have. So when they discovered their siblings had pooled their money to give them a honeymoon as a wedding present, they were ecstatic.

The trip had been idyllic. No work, no worries, only each other. Swimming and snorkeling during the day, dinner alfresco on their private balcony in the evening and making love whenever the mood struck.

If only they had been able to avoid the devastation and heartbreak that followed.

“Kyle?” Ashleigh’s whisper interrupted his reverie. He immediately released her, dropping his hands to his sides as if burned.

“Sorry.” He stepped back and searched for something more to say. He rubbed his palms against the outside of his thighs to erase the tactile memory of her. “I was going to ask Paula which casserole she’d like for dinner. Maybe you should see if there’s one you prefer.”

Ashleigh replied by bobbing her head as she walked past him into the kitchen.

Fool! How could he have allowed her to see him so vulnerable?

He strode to Paula’s room and rapped louder than he should have on the doorjamb.

Paula’s head jerked in his direction. “Is everything okay?” She set aside the magazine she’d been flipping through.

“Yes.” He paused. “No.” Another pause. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah.” Paula’s eyebrows rose. “Ashleigh strikes again.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He racked his brain to remember the choices for dinner and finally recited the list. “Do you have a preference?”

“Enchiladas sound good.” She patted her abdomen and referred to her baby. “Bam-Bam likes spicy food. Too bad I can’t have a margarita with it, but Jean said she made some corn bread. I think it’s in a pan on the counter and there should be a salad in the fridge, too.”

“Sounds good.”

Kyle returned to the kitchen where Ashleigh was turning on the oven.

“I was just preheating to three-fifty,” she said. “I didn’t know which one we were cooking.”

He took the enchilada casserole from the counter and put it into the oven, setting a timer according to the written instructions. He found the corn bread and pulled out the salad. A noise behind him was a reminder that Ashleigh was still in the kitchen.

She’d gotten out plates, silverware and napkins, butter for the corn bread and dressing for the salad. Now she sat at the table, hands folded.

“Kyle?” Her tone was soft.

He gave her his attention, saying nothing.

“At the hospital today,” she began, visibly swallowing. “I heard some talk about a lawsuit. Are you in trouble?”

His jaw clenched so tight he was in danger of cracking a tooth. “I’d rather not discuss it.” He turned his back to her.

* * *

ASHLEIGH KNEW WHAT that meant. He didn’t want to discuss the lawsuit with her.

After a moment of staring at his back in disbelief, she straightened her spine and rose slowly. She carefully pushed her chair in and left the kitchen, gathering every ounce of self-respect she could muster. She needed a moment alone to pull herself together—just one moment.

She headed to the powder room located off the living room. She entered, closed the door and leaned her forehead against the natural finish of the oak door. Slow, deep breaths finally calmed her.

What kind of trouble was Kyle in? Was it bad?

Maybe she could help him. She didn’t know how, but he could have at least told her what was going on. They’d been married for three years, together since high school. Fifteen years total. Didn’t that count for something?

They’d been through so much together.

Hadn’t she been the one he’d come to when he didn’t get accepted into his first choice of college? And she’d gone directly to him when her father was diagnosed with prostate cancer the spring of their sophomore year in college.

He’d dropped everything, including studying for a major exam, to come to her when she’d called in tears. He’d held her through the night, breaking the dorm curfew rules and not caring when her roommate came in. She’d woken in his arms, both of them fully clothed, and she’d realized for the first time how much he truly meant it when he told her he loved her.

When had they stopped coming to each other? Had it been after the miscarriages? Or had it begun before that?

They’d led busy lives as physicians, but they always made time to catch up with each other—an occasional lunch, a late-night glass of wine in bed.

Kyle couldn’t have been more supportive during her first miscarriage. By the third, he’d made several contacts around the world with infertility experts.

At the same time, Ashleigh couldn’t handle the pressure. She was failing to produce a child and didn’t know how to deal with it. Kyle had always been the one she turned to, but now he spent all of his free time looking for answers.

Ashleigh washed her hands, taking extra time to run her wrists under the cool water. She dried off and braced herself to face whatever came next. Then she slipped out of the bathroom and went directly to her briefcase near the front door.

She took refuge in the living room, using the Mission oak coffee table to spread out her files.

From the sounds of it, Kyle was upstairs—likely helping the boys move some of Ryan’s things into Mark’s room. Several minutes later, Mark came down to retrieve Ashleigh’s suitcase, insisting he could get it upstairs himself.

“Ugh,” Mark grunted. Her suitcase probably weighed as much as he did.

Ashleigh grimaced as her luggage hit the wall halfway up the stairs.

“Let me give you a hand.” Kyle came to his aid before Ashleigh could rise from the sofa.

“I got it,” Mark insisted, breathless.

Shortly after, the house became quiet as Ashleigh stared blindly at her client folders, unable to make sense of her notes.

She leaned her head back on the tweed sofa and closed her eyes. The sound of voices carried from Paula’s room. It sounded like Kyle and Paula were talking.

“She’s going to find out,” Paula was saying. “Whether you tell her or she hears it from someone else, there are no secrets in this town.”

“She just arrived today.” Kyle was clearly frustrated. “I thought there’d be more time.”

At first Ashleigh assumed they were talking about the lawsuit he refused to discuss, but then she wondered if there was something else. Was he involved with someone?

She was suddenly light-headed. Was someone sharing his life, his bed? Maybe even his heart? Her throat closed and her breath nearly choked her.

“Why don’t you tell her?” Paula was saying. “Then it’s all out in the open.”

Ashleigh strained to listen. She never eavesdropped and now she’d done it twice in the same day.

“I don’t want her in the middle of it.” His words made Ashleigh’s heart clench. “She made her choices and they didn’t include me. She has her own life and so do I.”

He had no clue about her solitary life back in Richmond. Her clients, mostly hospital boards and large nonprofit corporations, were her main providers of interpersonal communication. She didn’t date, didn’t want to date since that could result in a relationship and she couldn’t do a relationship.

What would she lead with? This can’t go anywhere because I’m unable to bear children. Where did that piece of information fit? Right before dessert on the first date seemed a little presumptuous. After the third date? The eighth?

There was way too much to consider.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a social life. She had a few casual friends she hiked with and this past winter they’d skied a few times. She’d even gone to dinner with a former medical school classmate when she was in San Francisco last fall on business. Unfortunately, he’d gotten the wrong idea, leaving her to explain how she wasn’t looking for a relationship, not even a one-night stand.