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Jaine knew one person whose chain she hoped to pull. If some of what she had said was aired, Sam would probably take it as a personal challenge. She certainly hoped he did—because that was exactly how she had meant it.
fourteen
Okay,” Marci said when they had been served their coffee and given their orders at the diner where they had all stopped for breakfast, “tell us about Galan.”
“Nothing much to tell,” T.J. replied, shrugging. “He was at home yesterday when I got home. He began with a demand that I give up my friends—three in particular, and guess who they are. I countered with a demand that he give up one of his friends for each one of mine I had to give up. Then—I guess it was feminine intuition, because all of a sudden I wondered if he’d been so cold for the past two years because of another woman.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Luna demanded indignantly. “Doesn’t he have any idea how lucky he is to have you?”
T.J. smiled. “Thanks for the vote. I’m not giving up, you know. We might be able to work this out, but I’m not going to let it destroy me if we don’t. I did some heavy thinking last night, and this isn’t all Galan’s fault. I’m not Mrs. Perfect any more than he’s Mr. Perfect.”
“You haven’t been seeing another man,” Jaine said pointedly.
“I didn’t say we were equally at fault. If he’s interested in keeping our marriage going, he has a lot of making up to do. But I have some things to make up to him, too.”
“Like what?” Marci asked.
“Oh … I haven’t exactly let myself go, but neither have I made any special effort to attract him. I’ve also been caving in to everything he says in an effort to please him, and let’s face it, on the surface that sounds good for him, but if he wants an equal partner, then it must be maddening. I bounce ideas off you guys the way I used to do with him, but now it’s as if I keep all the interesting parts of myself away from him. I give him the cook and housekeeper instead of the lover and partner, and that isn’t good for a marriage. No wonder he got bored.”
“Do you know how typical that is?” Jaine said, her tone shaded with indignation. “Whatever happens, women take the blame for it.” She stirred her coffee, glaring into the cup. “I know, I know, sometimes we need to. I hate being wrong, damn it.”
“That’s a quarter,” said three voices.
She dug in her purse for the change, but came up with only forty-six cents. She laid a dollar on the table instead. “One of you can make change for the other two. I need to stock up on change again. Sam wiped me out.”
There was a long pause, with three pairs of eyes trained on her. Finally Luna said delicately, “Sam? Who’s Sam?”
“You know. Sam. My neighbor.”
Marci pursed her lips. “Would this be the same neighbor who turned out to be a cop but whom you’ve described at various times as a jerk, a drunk, a drug dealer, a bottom-feeding son of a bitch, a hulk who hasn’t seen a razor or a shower in this millennium—”
“Okay, okay,” Jaine said. “Yeah, it’s the same guy.”
“And you’re now on a first-name basis with him?” T.J. asked, amazed.
Jaine’s face heated. “Kind of.”
“Oh my god.” Luna’s eyes were huge. “She’s blushing.”
“This is scary,” Marci said, and the three pairs of eyes blinked in astonishment.
Jaine squirmed in the booth, feeling her face get even hotter. “It isn’t my fault,” she blurted defensively. “He has a red truck. A four-wheel drive.”
“I can see where that would make a big difference,” T.J. said, studying the ceiling.
“So he isn’t that big a jerk,” Jaine muttered. “So what? Actually, he is a jerk, but he has his good points.”
“And the best one is in his pants, right?” quipped Marci, who, like a honey badger, always went straight for the groin.
Luna displayed a shocking lack of decorum by making a whooping sound and saying, “Dive! Dive! Dive!” just like in a submarine war movie.
“Stop it!” Jaine hissed. “I haven’t done that!”
“Oh-ho!” T.J. leaned closer. “Just what have you done?”
“Exactly one kiss, smarty and that’s all.”
“One kiss does not a blush make,” Marci said, grinning. “Especially not on your face.”
