Ada gave a long-suffering groan before taking her husband’s arm and pulling him toward the door. “Do you really want to stand around and listen to the details of your son’s sex life? I’m as open-minded as the next person, but I’d still like to keep a few mysteries where my boys are concerned. Now, can we please go to Publix to wander around for a while?”
Clearly not bothered in the least by her chiding, Joe looked at first his son then Lydia. “Well, I guess we’ll let you kids have some privacy now.” Pointing at his son with a smirk, he added, “Good luck, whipper. You’re probably gonna need it.”
Lydia knew that her face must be in flames as his parents left. Dear Lord, the intimate details she’d spat out in front of them! And the manwhore part. That one was likely to haunt her forever—even if it was somewhat true. Okay, maybe he hadn’t been that bad, but all indications would point to the fact he had been a little fast and loose with the women. “So . . . they seem nice,” Lydia said lamely. The room was quiet for so long that finally Lydia couldn’t stand it any longer. “Okay, I’m sorry for saying all of that in front of them.”
Jake moved to the sink and wet some paper towels as he attempted to clean some of the sticky drink from his face and neck. “That’s my fault. I should have called you. Some of this could have been avoided if I had,” he stated calmly.
Now that her anger had died down, she was getting nervous and feeling the need to fill the silence. “I may have possibly taken the whole, um . . . sleeping around thing a tad too far as well. You did say that you usually didn’t have relationships, so I did have some basis for it.”
His stare pinned her in place as he said, “That’s correct. I haven’t been one for serious involvement with women in the past. But I also haven’t been a man who lowered my zipper anytime, anywhere. I do have some standards, Lydia.”
This was getting more uncomfortable by the minute, and frankly, after doing nothing but obsessing over her relationship and worrying about Casey, she was too burned out to go through it again. If he wanted to be mad at her, then so be it. Throwing her hands up in the air, she said, “You know what? I can’t do this right now. I’ve humiliated myself by throwing a hissy fit in front of my in-laws, which is completely unlike me. I’ve never had to force a man to have ‘the talk,’ but I seem to be doing that a lot as well. I’m turning into one of those needy, clingy women that I never understood.” Refusing to look at him, she rubbed her eyes before adding, “I’m tired, Jake. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. I’m going to go lie down and hope when I wake up, this will all have been some bad dream. Please apologize to your parents for everything.” With those parting words, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she was in the bedroom. She debated leaving and going to her apartment, but she didn’t have the energy. So instead, she curled up in the middle of the big bed and allowed her body to relax. Her last thought as she drifted off was that Jake hadn’t come after her. It looked as if she’d left the last pieces of her marriage, along with her dignity, in the kitchen.
* * *
Jacob scratched his head and tried to process what had just happened. To say he’d been a bit blown away by first the margarita on his head, then the verbal slap down, would be an understatement. His wife, it seemed, was full of surprises. Of course, that was probably to be expected when you didn’t actually spend much time learning about each other before the actual nuptials.
Naturally, he’d been a little discomfited to have his sexual past ridiculed right there in front of his parents. He couldn’t imagine many men who wanted their mother to hear them called “whipper zipper.” It also bothered him that Lydia thought so poorly of the choices he’d made. But he guessed he couldn’t toss all the blame on her. They’d rushed into marriage for all of the wrong reasons and then sort of fell into a relationship. There hadn’t been more than a handful of meaningful discussions between them concerning their past. Although, possibly, he was the one who hadn’t felt the need to confide in her. Lydia had spoken in great detail about her love for Brett and those years of her life. She’d also given him insight into what it had been like for her since he’d passed away.
Other than talking about his daughter and some of the issues he had experienced with Chris, he hadn’t been as forthcoming and that was on him. He certainly couldn’t blame it on the fact that she wasn’t interested because he knew she was. It mostly came down to the lame excuse that men tended to avoid uncomfortable subjects and that included their past history of dating and sex with other women.
He’d planned to talk to Lydia tonight and tell her how he felt. He hadn’t been expecting the big scene in the kitchen, though, so he’d been temporarily thrown off. He knew one thing, though. He couldn’t let her go to bed another night thinking he was a jerk who didn’t care about her. So squaring his shoulders, he prepared to go talk to his wife. His wet clothes were still clinging to him, and he hoped that if she felt the urge to toss something over his head this time, it was at least just water. This sticky stuff was damned uncomfortable.
Chapter Fifteen
Jacob found her curled around his pillow in the middle of their bed. He took that as a good sign. At least she didn’t have it in a stranglehold or, even worse, kicked to the floor. He liked to think it showed that a part of her still wanted to be near him, even in sleep. He flipped on the nearby lamp and took a seat beside her. Then he simply stared for a moment. His wife was truly a beautiful woman. He’d told her that before, but he didn’t think she believed it. She wasn’t a vain woman. She didn’t wake up and run directly to the bathroom to put on her makeup. Instead, she usually stumbled to the coffeepot with her hair sticking up adorably. She’d grunt at him in passing as he filled his own cup. Neither of them was that big on verbal communication before they’d had their caffeine fix. On the weekends, when they had more time, Jacob liked waking them both up in more pleasurable ways—no cup required.
Somehow, without his really being aware of it, she had woven herself into the very fabric of his life. It was only now as he stood there watching her sleep that he realized he wouldn’t ever want to wake up to a day that didn’t include her. And it was past time that he told her that.