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“MOUSE, I’M HOME.”
At the sound of her husband’s voice, she straightened her hair, wiped her cheeks one more time, and glanced in the bedroom mirror to see just how big of a wreck she was. With faltering steps, she made her way down the hall, trying to drown her nerves with an overdose of confidence and cheer. “Hi. Did you have a good time?”
He kicked off his boots. “It was fine. Nothing all that spectacular. Just handing out boxes.”
She smiled. “Ready for dinner? I thought I’d heat up some chili.”
“That sounds good. But first, I want to talk to you about something.” He frowned, and she did her best to swallow down her heart which had leapt up and lodged itself in her throat.
“Talk about what?” Did he hear the way her voice squeaked?
He took her palm and led her into the living room. “Come in here. This is important.”
“Ok.” She wished she could pull her hand away so he wouldn’t notice how sweaty it was. He didn’t give her a chance but kept on holding it even after they were seated on the couch.
“I talked with Nancy while we were out delivering boxes.”
“Oh?” For the second time that day, all the air around her vanished. She was dizzy. Could he tell how close she was to passing out?
“She said she saw you out at Baxter Loop.”
“Yeah.” Well, it was a good thing she had resisted the urge to tell Nancy everything. That woman was as big a gossip as everyone else in this town.
Was she really surprised?
Greg sighed. “I don’t know what it is the two of you talked about, and maybe it’s none of my business anyway, but she said something that really jumped out at me. She said it’s hard being the pastor’s wife at a church like Orchard Grove, but you were doing a really good job. And I realized that I’ve been taking you for granted. With the nursery and the pageant and my busy schedule and you feeling pressured into doing music when you don’t want to ...”
She tried to interrupt, but he stopped her. “Let me finish. I’m sorry that I’ve been complaining so much about things like the house and stuff like that. And I’m sorry for just assuming that you’ll be willing to work in the nursery or play your violin or lead pageant rehearsals or any of those other things. And as far as what Nancy said ...”
Katrina held her breath. Here it came. He knew about Miles. He had to.
“She thinks I should use my Christmas bonus — I mean our Christmas bonus — to take you to Leavenworth, and she knows of a nice B&B there run by a Christian couple, and before you argue, I already called and made the arrangements. There’s too much going on between now and the Christmas Eve service, but we’re leaving on the twenty-sixth and spending two nights there, and I even booked us the honeymoon suite. The lady I talked to said there’s a big Jacuzzi bath. I want you to know how much I love you and how sorry I am to let work stress come between us like I have. What’s the matter? What did I do wrong? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
She ignored the tears that streaked down her cheeks. She had to do this. She’d rehearsed this dozens of times. She just hadn’t expected to have this conversation after her husband showed her so much kindness.
Kindness that, as he would soon find out, was completely undeserved.
She took a deep breath. She could do this. “Before you say anything else, there’s something I need to tell you, but it’s really hard and awkward and embarrassing for me, so I wrote it all out. I’m going to give you what I wrote and then I’m going to go into the bedroom, and I want you to read this letter and then wait half an hour before you come and talk to me. I know I’m making it sound really weird, but I don’t want to be in the same room as you when you read it, and I want you to promise to wait a full thirty minutes until you come in. Is that ok?” She pulled the wad of stationary out of her pocket and held it out to him.
“What’s gotten into you, Mouse?” He stared at the papers as if they were poisonous.
“That’s another thing.” She hadn’t meant to make a big deal about this on top of everything else, but now that she’d found her voice, she wouldn’t be silenced again. “My name’s not Mouse. If you really need a nickname, you can call me Kat.”
She stood up, praying to God that her legs might miraculously still support her weight. “I’m going in the bedroom now. I’ll talk to you in half an hour.”