Page 129 of Mistletoe and Mischief

“Actually, no. The puppy was for Teri’s sister.”

“What did you want to say about the Polgars?” Kent asked.

“I... I was remembering how it was with us when the girls were little.”

“We talked about that earlier.”

“We did,” she agreed. “Those early Christmases, the basement apartment, those silly gingerbread decorations I sewed.”

“What you’re really saying is that you wonder what happened to us.”

So Kent was the one brave enough to lay it on the table, the subject neither of them had been willing to broach until now.

Beth suppressed the urge to say it was too late. All of a sudden, she didn’t want to dig up the past anymore, a past that was full of hurts and slights committed on both sides. If they dug too deep, she didn’t know what they might uncover. Anyway, what was the point? They weren’t together anymore. He had a new life and so did she.

Another part of her, the more rational part, recognized that unless she knew why her relationship with Kent had dissolved, history might repeat itself. If she did fall in love with Ted, she could revert to the same pattern that had destroyed her marriage to Kent.

“I don’t think we can or should assign blame,” Kent said, sitting up. He leaned forward and extended his arms, cupping his coffee between his hands. “So... I guess we should figure out what went wrong.”

Beth swallowed hard, unsure where to start. She couldn’t.

“Do you want to go first?” he asked. Kent, too, apparently found it difficult.

“No. You go.”

“All right.” He took a breath. “Once the girls got their driver’s licenses, they didn’t seem to need me anymore. They had their own lives. And that’s the way it should be.”

“A father’s more than a chauffeur,” she said with the glimmer of a smile. “But I know what you mean. They were becoming adults, so our role as parents changed.”

He nodded. “And you had your career, while I had mine.”

“At some point, without even being aware of it, we lost sight of what’s important,” Beth said. “And then it became a matter of pride, as if the most vital thing was proving how little we needed each other.”

He nodded again.

“You stopped attending college social functions with me, and I retaliated by not attending your business dinners.”

He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, but I found them boring.”

“They were.” She’d be the first to admit it.

“You always made them fun, though—in a slightly scandalous way,” he said, grinning. “I got all the gossip. We’d stand in a corner and you’d tell me the most inappropriate stories.”

“And you’d embarrass me by laughing at the most inappropriate times,” she reminded him, and had trouble not breaking into giggles right then.

They looked at each other in silence.

“We both got absorbed in our lives, apart from each other,” he finally said.

“We became strangers who happened to be married.”

“I can’t think of a single defining incident, an event that triggered the end of our marriage. Can you?”

“Not really.” It was more an accumulation of grudges, of minor slights and careless acts. Oh, there were plenty of small decisions Beth had made through the years. Decisions that seemed inconsequential, insignificant. For some reason she thought of the morning Kent had asked her to drop off a letter at the post office. It was on her way to the college, while he was driving in the opposite direction. She told him she couldn’t because she was running late. Really, how much time would it have taken? A minute? Two? Kent hadn’t complained. He’d dropped off the letter himself.

Then there was the night she’d phoned and asked Kent to pick up bread and milk on his way home from work and he forgot. Such a little thing, but it had annoyed her no end.

At some stage she must have decided to ask nothing more of Kent. Was that when the pettiness began? When they turned to a silent battle of wills? How ridiculous they’d been. How silly and selfish and juvenile. No wonder their marriage had crumbled into pieces....

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