“You’ll want to make changes,” he said. “To make this into a baby’s room. I’ll give you the name of my decorator. If you’d rather design it yourself, I have a handyman who will move furniture, paint, hang curtains, whatever. All that information is in my study.”
He left, apparently wanting to give her that stuff now. Noelle lingered for a second. A baby’s room. She tried to imagine the space filled with a crib and changing table, but nothing about this situation seemed real.
She found Dev in his study. He offered her a list of phone numbers, including his personal cell, work cell, private line, the decorator and anyone else he thought she might want to get in touch with.
There was also a leather box filled with an assortment of items. He went through them quickly.
“ATM card, checkbook. Extra key to my car. House key, alarm code. Everything is marked.”
“You’ve been busy,” she said, feeling her head start to spin. “All I had to do was pack up a few clothes.”
“This is your home now, Noelle.”
Was it? Technically, but she didn’t think she would feel totally comfortable in the beautiful space for a long time.
“So you’re saying I can put my feet up on the coffee table?” she asked.
“You can take a hammer to it, if you’d like.”
She winced. “Not my style, although I appreciate the offer.”
They smiled at each other. Okay, sure, this was weird and awkward, but Dev was doing his best to make things pleasant and easy. He’d been nothing but thoughtful from the moment he’d found out about the baby.
“You’re a really good guy,” she said. “Why aren’t you married?”
He grinned. “Actually, I am, Mrs. Hunter.”
“What? Oh. Me.”
“Forgotten already?”
She glanced down at her ring. Mrs. Hunter. Was that her? “Sort of.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
She nodded and started to say something, but the words got lost as she realized how much she wanted to step closer to him. Right now she could do with a good hug and one specifically from Dev. She wanted him to hold her next to him and tell her everything was going to be all right. She wanted to borrow strength from him and listen to his heartbeat and maybe have him…
What? What did she want? She swallowed as the truth uncoiled inside of her.
She wanted him to kiss her.
The thought was so unexpected, she actually took a step back. Kissing? There was no kissing in their relationship. Oh, sure. Slight, friendship-style kisses on the cheek. But not mouth to mouth, breath mingling, tongues touching, I-want-to-melt-into-you kissing. That was not allowed.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said in a squeak, then cleared her throat. “Thanks for all of this.” She motioned to the box. “I’ll, um, try not to go wild at the sales.”
“I’m not worried.” He hesitated, then said, “There’s something else you need to see. Under the circumstances…” He seemed at a loss for words, which was so not Dev. “Jimmy lived here, in the pool house. I’m having it redone into a game room, but before the workmen show up, I thought you might want to look around and see if there’s anything you’d like to keep for yourself or the baby. I’ve already taken a few things for myself.”
Jimmy. She hadn’t thought about him in days. He was the reason all this had happened and yet he’d practically vanished from her mind.
Guilt battled with her more practical nature. If she’d let him go so easily, apparently what she had felt wasn’t love. So what did love feel like and how would she know when it was real?
“If this is a bad time,” he began.
“No, it’s fine. I appreciate the offer.”
She followed him outside. The pool house was a big open room with full bath at one end. A sofa sat in front of a large television. A bed had been pushed against the far wall.
Noelle looked at the sports posters on the walls and a few trophies on a shelf. She waited for a flood of emotion, but there wasn’t one. Just sadness for a young man who had died too early.
Several small model cars sat on a window sill. When she crossed to them, Dev said, “He always loved cars. By the time he was ten, he knew more about them than me.”
She picked up two cars, then fingered an Angels baseball cap before adding it to her collection. There weren’t any personal pictures and she didn’t think what looked like a year’s worth of Car and Driver would be considered significant. Then she spotted the yearbooks.
“You don’t want these for yourself?” she asked.
Dev shook his head.
She flipped through one and saw dozens of messages from friends. “I’ll keep these, too,” she said. “What people write often gives insight into a person. Jimmy’s son or daughter might like that.”
“Okay. I have a lot of pictures I was going to sort through. Once I figure out when they were taken, I’ll put them in order.”
“That would be nice.”
They returned to the house.
“I thought we’d order dinner in tonight,” he said. “Give you a chance to settle in.”
She nodded. “I’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow and cook dinner. Any requests?”
“You don’t have to cook.”
“I actually like cooking.” She put the items from Jimmy’s room on the kitchen counter. “My mom made sure we all knew what we were doing. I don’t get very fancy, but everything is eatable.”
“Then you pick. I can’t remember my last home-cooked meal, so I won’t be fussy.”
Interesting, she thought. So the slinky, exotic women didn’t cook. No doubt they had other talents.
“What time do you usually get home?”
“About six.”
“Then I’ll plan dinner for six-thirty.”
This was so strange—having this very domestic conversation with the man who had been, until recently, her boss.
“I’ll leave you to unpack, then,” he said. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Dev retreated to his den. He had to find this as strange as she did. They were both being so polite. Would it get easier with time? Would they ever feel comfortable together?
Once again she thought that this was not the marriage she’d always imagined. However, it was the one she had. Instead of focusing on what she wanted to be different, maybe it was time to think about how lucky she was to be married to Dev and do what she could to make their two years together fun for both of them.
Noelle had decided on what her mother claimed was every man’s favorite—meatloaf and mashed potatoes—for her first home-cooked meal. She wasn’t sure of Dev’s vegetable preference, so she did a medley, along with a salad. There was strawberry shortcake for dessert and an assortment of ice-cream flavors in the freezer, in case he didn’t like the shortcake.
She’d shopped early, then had spent the rest of the morning getting to know Dev’s neighborhood and finding things like the closest dry cleaner and drugstore. After that, she’d been on her own. Alone. Completely alone.
She