Page 33 of Thick and Thin

Edna’s warm brown eyes twinkled. “How about we freeze a little for you to take home next week?”

Grinning, I nodded my head, swallowing another bite—and then I grew wistful again. If we’d stuck with the original plan and I’d been here for ten years, I probably could have asked Edna to teach me some of her culinary secrets. After all, she hadn’t started out planning to be a cook, but she’d somehow shifted into that position with ease. What impressed me most was how she’d not only learned to cook all the more exotic tastes Sinclair had grown up enjoying, but she knew how to make food that better suited my palate. In short, she was a genius.

After I thanked her, we didn’t stay silent for long. Soon, Edna said, “Mr. Whittier told me you won’t be with us much longer.”

I could see on her face all the questions—what had changed? She wanted to know what had happened to reduce my “sentence” from ten years to less than half of one.

But I wasn’t going to tell her anything that would diminish Sinclair in her eyes—meaning I wouldn’t tell her anything about the repairs at the college—and I also didn’t want to divulge my deeper relationship with the man, especially because that would be ending when I left.

Maybe it already had. For all I knew, beginning now, we’d be partners in business only.

Because I didn’t even know if Edna was aware that he’d driven to Winchester on Saturday, I decided to keep it as brief and ambiguous as possible. “I believe,” I began but stopped myself right before I called him by his first name, “Mr. Whittier understands now just how sick my father really is and knows that my rightful place is with him. But we agreed that I would finish my work in the dungeon to finish paying my debt.”

“Ah…my Sinny can be such a generous man when he wants to be.”

I nodded, trying to find a way to change the subject…but, if the truth were to be told, I could have listened to her talk about Sinclair all day.

And I awaited his arrival with bated breath.

Chapter 13

I spent the afternoon evaluating the tasks left in the dungeon, coming up with a timeline for finishing up my work down there—and I couldn’t see how I could possibly be done until January…and that wasn’t even accounting for the time I’d be away. Now that Sinclair and I had reached this understanding, I was also going to ask to spend some time with my father during the holidays as well.

But I wasn’t going to hit him with any of that all at once.

Instead, even though I’d seen him on Saturday and we’d talked during my week away, I had missed him terribly—and I’d mourned the loss of our relationship more than once for different reasons. And, even though it had only been a matter of days, it felt like I hadn’t been in his bed in ages.

That, I knew, was probably behind us and so I was still sad—and yet I yearned to bask in the sunlight of his face. For I knew Sinclair Whittier now, far better than I suspected most people did. He had let me in enough that I could see the scars of his heart, how rejection and loneliness had shaped him, twisted him, but deep inside he was layered…not only loving but capable of receiving love.

Of deserving love.

What was inside was a part of himself that few knew or saw—perhaps Edna was the only other person on the planet who knew that about the man. He’d even hidden his real self from his family.

And that fact, in another way, made me even sadder…that few knew the real person beneath the walls he’d erected.

On some level, though, I suspected that our encounter had changed him—and maybe that would open him up to being able to love and be loved by someone else someday. Even though the thought filled me with anguish, on another level it comforted me…even as I knew I would never love another man, no matter how long I lived.

I went up to my room after working and took a quick shower before touching up my makeup and hair and donning an outfit that had been in my closet at home that I hadn’t worn since February: a black turtleneck and slim gray skirt with knee-high boots. It was the sort of clothing that belonged in my world but felt like it could also fit in a place of business. I’d bought it my senior year in high school for a presentation I had to give for my capstone project and wore to college classes on occasion. That and my blazer were the clothes that always made me feel more professional—and, since it seemed as though Sinclair and I were returning to our previous relationship, it felt like the right thing to wear.

But I pulled my hair up so I would also look pretty.

When I arrived in the dining room, he wasn’t there yet. I sat down, but I felt nervous, on edge. For a moment, I considered popping in the kitchen to ask Edna if she needed help, but I suspected I’d just get in the way. Instead, I stood and crossed the room to look outside. I’d only been gone a week and yet the changes outside were dramatic. The leaves on the tree in the yard that I could see from the dining room had turned a bright yellow, as if shocked that the evenings were growing cooler. And, although it wasn’t dark out yet, it was evident that the days were growing shorter. The flowers that had been in bloom earlier in the year had disappeared, and all the plants seemed to be fading to a lighter green in preparation for the colder weather ahead.

I didn’t hear Sinclair enter the room at first until he cleared his throat. When I turned, he was walking toward me—but his face reflected what was in my heart: a mixture of joy at being together again tinged with the knowledge that none of this would last.

But it didn’t stop him from pulling me into an embrace…which I reciprocated, even while wondering what Edna would think if she walked in. When he pulled back, he said, “It’s good to have you back.”

I wanted him to kiss me. Having him so close, feeling his strong arms around me, smelling the cologne he wore that reminded me of touching his bare skin, seeing his blue eyes so close that they were my entire world made me want to pretend that nothing else in the world existed.

But, when we moved to our usual chairs, I was reminded that there was plenty else I needed to worry about.

Although he didn’t say it, I knew this was his first time eating in the dining room since I’d left. I would never accuse the two sisters cleaning crew of not being good at their jobs, but I could see the thinnest line of dust right up against the table runner next to my water goblet. My heart nearly broke as I imagined him eating a lonely dinner every night at the kitchen table.

Before I’d come along, he either hadn’t minded or hadn’t noticed the aloneness—and, perhaps, he filled it with random women from time to time. I’d be foolish to think he didn’t, remembering the evidence of one female in particular and discussion of another.

Edna came in with her cart, delivering beautiful salads for each of us—and I felt a pang of guilt. I’d only served my father two salads the entire time I’d been home. Granted, his appetite just wasn’t as good as I would have liked, but I should have tried to get him to eat more raw vegetables. Because he was eating more (evidenced by his earlier text message assuring me he’d eaten lunch), I’d be sure to throw more vegetables into the foods I made for him next time.

I pushed it out of my mind as Edna spoke. “It sure is nice to have you back, Lise.”

---