C.J. Carmichael - Small-Town Girl

Nothing.

Russell couldn’t be serious.

“If you and Ben want to go visit your folks, that would be fine with me.”

“I’m not talking about a visit.” Russell pushed away from his chair and strode to the window. “I know I should have discussed this with you, but…I’ve—I’ve tendered my resignation at the university.”

“You’ve quit?” If he’d slapped her on the face, she couldn’t have been more stunned.

“Our family needs something different, Julie. Something slow paced and more meaningful. This city is sucking it out of us.”

“Sucking what out of us?” He wasn’t making any sense. Vancouver was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Russell had worked hard to become a full professor at UBC. And her job at West Coast Homes was a dream come true for her.

“The happiness, the spontaneity, the…the joy.”

This was too much. She got out of her chair and gave it a hard shove over the tile floor. Then she advanced on Russell, her voice angry but very quiet. “How the hell are we supposed to be feeling any joy right now? Our son was in a coma for five days. He almost died.”

“Well, thanks for the news flash. Now here’s an update for you. Our son is alive. But did you see his face at the dinner table tonight? He’s floundering, Julie. We’ve got to save him.”

She covered her mouth. Yes, poor Ben was floundering. Trust the English professor to come up with just the perfect word.

“And you think moving to Chatsworth is going to help?” She knew she sounded scornful, but how couldn’t she? Russell’s idea was preposterous.

“I do. And so do my parents.”

Oh, no. Now he was dragging in Betty and Larry Matthew, two of the very biggest reasons she’d rather move to the Arctic Circle than to Chatsworth, Saskatchewan.

“You’ve talked to your parents about this?”

“Actually, they brought up the idea. Apparently the woman who used to teach grade five at the elementary school is moving—her husband wants to go to law school in Saskatoon. They’ve put their house up for sale. It’s small, but it’s lakefront, and it’s only blocks from the school.”

This was sinking in. Russell had quit his job. He’d found a new job, a new house. “You mean this. You really want to move to Chatsworth.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, Julie. I realize you love your career…but this way you could afford to stay home for a while.”

She’d never wanted to stay home. When they’d discussed having Ben they’d both agreed on a nanny for the first five years, then day care once he started school full-time. “What about the cottage?”

“We can keep the place in Saltspring. Come back for holidays.”

But this wasn’t how their life was supposed to be! They’d planned everything before they’d married. Worked out every detail. And in ten years it had come together for them. They had it all, exactly what they’d wanted.

“We need to enjoy each other more. Family has to be our focus now, Julie.”

And it wasn’t before?

In her stomach, she felt the familiar burning of guilt. If only… Were there any more bitter words in the English language?

She wanted her life back, exactly as it had been. But maybe she didn’t deserve that. She knew Russell didn’t blame her for Ben’s accident. Such a thing would never even occur to him.

But maybe it should. It had to her.

And Ben? Did he blame her, too? Julie couldn’t answer that one. Because Ben suffered from retrograde amnesia. Their son couldn’t remember anything that had happened the day of the accident. Probably he never would.

LYING ON HIS SIDE of the king-size bed with Julie at least a foot away, Russell recalled the last time he’d made love to his wife. The Friday before Ben’s accident.

The April night had been warm and Ben had had plans to camp out in Jeff’s backyard. With a rare evening to themselves, he and Julie had strolled down to the ocean and back, then he’d made pasta and they’d shared a bottle of wine out on their new deck.

Later, in the dark, he’d brought out an old quilt and spread it along the portion of the deck screened by lattice and honeysuckle.

“Russell…?” He’d loved the way she’d said his name, softening and smoothing the two syllables with her English accent. Her speaking voice was the first thing he’d fallen in love with.

“Come here.” He’d kissed her and slowly seduced her out of all her clothing.

“What if…”

He’d silenced her nervousness with another kiss. “No one can see us.”

In the moonlight, Julie’s skin had glowed. She had the proverbial peaches-and-cream English complexion. Hair color that she termed “dirty blond” and he considered “honey.” Long limbs and a slender waist—

Russell forced himself to stop remembering and stifled a groan. Why torture himself with old memories, when the flesh-and-blood woman lay at his side?

Shifting to his left, he tried to gauge whether Julie slept. Her back to him, she remained perfectly still, her breathing too quiet for him to hear. He watched for several minutes, hoping she would roll over, throw out an arm, give him some opening that would allow him to slide closer to her.

She didn’t move.

The digital alarm clock on Julie’s night table soldiered on. Eleven-fifteen became eleven-thirty. Finally, Russell sighed and shifted to his back, arms folded behind his head.

“Still awake?”

Russell flipped back to his left side. “Oh, yeah.”

She faced him now, covers drawn to her chin. “Did you really quit the university?”

She wanted to talk. Well, what had he expected? Their conversation earlier that evening hadn’t been exactly conducive to romance.

“I really did.”

“You didn’t think we should—oh, never mind.” She brushed her hair back from her face. In the dim glow from the streetlights outside he could see her arch her clearly defined, elegant eyebrows.

“What if I don’t want to move to Chatsworth? What if I refuse?”

“I don’t know.” This idea of his had seemed so obviously the right thing to do for his family he’d almost convinced himself Julie wouldn’t object. He’d been kidding himself, of course. He knew how she felt about small towns, especially the one he’d grown up in.

“I don’t think you’re being very fair to me,” Julie added.

“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But I wish you’d at least consider the idea.”

She propped her head up on her hand. “You haven’t given me much choice. You’ve already quit your job.”

“Yes.” He should have told Julie first. But nothing she could have said would have changed his mind. He wanted more time with his son. “Since the day Ben was born, he’s fit into our lives so smoothly. Aside from those few months at the beginning—” they’d each taken two months off from work “—we’ve barely had to adjust our lifestyle to accommodate him.

“Look at us. We both have jobs we love. Ben’s been in before-and-after-school care right from the start. You still run three times a week. I play squash—”

“We’re not the only working parents in the world. And isn’t it healthy for us to have interests outside the house?”

“That’s not the point.” He flung off his covers, suddenly hot. “Ben hasn’t asked much of us. He’s been a great kid, a happy kid. But now he needs us. Now—for a few years, at least—it’s time for him to be the focus.”

“And he isn’t now?”

“We’ve put our lives on hold since the accident. And yes, we’ve devoted most of our energy to him. But already we’re starting to slip back into our routines….”