I hope you’re happy.” Max growled the words, his lips mashed together. His jaw muscle convulsed.
On another day, Claire would have melted in the heat of his anger. Not so now. She propped her hands on her hips. “Oh, I’m happy, all right. As a matter of fact, I’m happy as a lark because my daughter refuses to put up with the likes of her dad in a husband.”
“Whoa!” Tandy formed her hands into a T, palm atop fingertips. “Time-out, guys.”
Max swiveled his glare toward Tandy. “All due respect, butt out.”
The three of them stood in a circle around the kitchen table. Jenna had gone to bed with the sunset, and Claire had phoned Max to give him their daughter’s news. He had a right to know. To her surprise, he appeared on the condo’s doorstep forty minutes later.
Tandy said, “Hey, my house, my ground rules. There will be no attacking. If you want to tear each other apart instead of console and make a plan, go someplace else to do it. This is about Jenna, not you two.” Tandy glowered at him and then at Claire. “Got it?” She turned on her heel and walked from the kitchen, pausing only long enough to pull shut the sliding door between rooms.
Claire pulled a chair from the small table and sat. She really asked too much of her friend. It was time to find her own place.
“Geesh.” Max sat across from her. The scowl had not quite left his face. “Sometimes I have no question as to why Trevor checked out of his marriage to her.”
A wave of heat surged through her. “Now you’re attacking my friend?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “In all candor, I’m probably attacking you.” He lowered his hand. “You’re starting to resemble her. Bold and brassy. It’s not becoming. It’s not the Claire I know.”
“Let’s see. The opposite of bold and brassy would be . . . hmm . . . timid and mousey and dependent and controllable.”
“Claire—”
“Admit it. You want me to wear beige and—”
“Wear beige?”
“Metaphorically speaking. Be nondescript. And kowtow.”
“You’ve never been timid or mousey, and if you’ve kowtowed, it’s your own fault, and I didn’t notice. The point is, we always agreed to present a united front with the kids.”
“United behind your opinion. Okay, it’s my fault I kowtowed. I hereby officially quit.”
“Fine.”
“Fine. For starters, I cannot unite with you behind your opinion concerning Jenna and Kevin. He enlisted. He did not tell her he was going to do that. He did not even mention he had any desire to do that. Now, in a heartbeat, she’s facing months and months of separation and the very real possibility of him getting injured or killed. What do you expect her to do? Sing the national anthem?”
“He’s a Marine, through and through. It’s his duty. He was still in uniform when they got married. She should have known him better.”
“He could have mentioned his plans to her!”
“How could he? Apparently he didn’t know them himself!”
Claire slumped against the back of the chair. No, it seemed he hadn’t known them. He’d gone with buddies to visit the Wounded Warrior facility at Camp Pendleton, to offer support to servicemen recovering there from war injuries. According to Jenna, the visit did a number on him and his friends. They proceeded to a bar to take the edge off with a few beers. To reconcile, Jenna said, that world with their own. It didn’t happen. He and one of the others reenlisted that afternoon. He swore he wasn’t lit at the time.
“Claire, her moving out is not going to change his decision.”
“Maybe not, but she will prove to herself that she’s not a doormat. That her opinion counts. That all of his put-downs, especially about her teaching, and his disregard for her feelings are unacceptable.”
Max blinked. “Is that what it’s doing for you?”
She met his somber gaze. “Yes, I think it is.”
He opened his mouth and closed it, as if deciding against speaking.
She offered a guess. “No, it’s not finished with me yet. I still stumble over the memory of your subtle put-downs and disregard. The second-fiddle position.”
“I didn’t mean to . . .” He blew out a breath.
She waited a long moment, giving him time to finish the half apology. He didn’t.
“Max, I know you didn’t mean to, but you did.”
He stood abruptly. “This isn’t about us. It’s about Jenna. And I think you’re wrong. You were wrong to teach this attitude to her. Walking out never solves a thing.”
With that he went to the door, pushed it open, and walked out of the kitchen. A moment later she heard the front door open and shut. Everything went quiet. Evidently he’d walked out of the condo.
“Yeah, well, you’re wrong, Max. Walking out solves one thing right now: we don’t have to talk to each other anymore.”
Bile rose in her throat.
Oh, what had she turned into? An ugly, foul-mouthed shrew. A horrid woman who felt only anger while her daughter cried herself to sleep and her husband walked out.
Self-loathing flowed through Claire, bending her in two until her forehead lay against the table.