Winter had only talked to Michael Everett briefly in the past few weeks. They'd both made an effort, but it was clear right from the start that they'd never be a couple. Winter blamed herself. She loved Pierre, and because of that, she hadn't been truly open, truly receptive, to a new relationship. She couldn't be. Despite their differences, despite their constant bickering and their breakups, she was still in love with Pierre. The Sunday afternoon she'd spent with Michael, cooking him dinner, she hadn't been able to think about anything except the hours she and Pierre had spent in her kitchen. In retrospect she knew she'd been trying to replicate those times, but it hadn't worked. Michael wasn't Pierre. And she...well, she wasn't Hannah.
Nothing had changed between her and Pierre. She hadn't been in touch with him since their last confrontation, but he was never far from her thoughts. How was it that two people who loved each other so much could be so miserable together--and just as unhappy apart?
Neither of them had been able to accept defeat, and yet, sadly, there didn't seem to be a solution for them. People who were in love should bring out the best in each other, but it was the opposite with them. She detested the woman she became when she was with him.
Sitting in her small office at the French Cafe, she told herself it was time to make a decision. They couldn't go on like this. Either they ended it for good or they figured out how to make it work. Winter was willing to do whatever it took--if only she knew what. And how. The problem was that they both kept doing the same things, fighting over the same issues. She'd read somewhere that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over, but expecting a different result. That must mean they were both crazy.
Yes, it was time to decide. "Make it or break it" time. Pierre's e-mail message was simple and succinct, with no indication of his feelings.
Winter wasn't sure how to answer. They should meet. They should talk. They had to decide whether to try yet again or end it entirely.
Deep in thought, she didn't immediately hear Alix knock at the half-open office door. Alix knocked again, and Winter turned to see her standing there, holding a mug. She gestured her in. Alix's movements were cumbersome, reminding Winter that there were only a few weeks left before her due date. Winter was proud of Alix and Jordan, and she envied them, too. They'd survived the miscarriage last year without losing hope or faith. Now their first baby was about to be born.
Jordan had refinished a used crib and set it up in the nursery this past weekend. Alix had been knitting for weeks, as had everyone at A Good Yarn.
"Winter?" Alix said hesitantly. "I thought you could use this," she said, offering her the mug of coffee.
"How nice. Thanks." She reached out a hand for the mug and managed a half smile.
Alix lingered in the doorway. "Is everything all right?"
"Sure. What makes you think it isn't?" she asked with forced brightness.
"Well, for one thing, you've been sitting in here for the past thirty minutes, doing nothing but staring at that computer screen."
"Oh."
"Is the cafe not doing well?"
"Actually, revenue is up fifteen percent compared to last year at this time." The croissants had always been popular. And starting in May the cafe had added a ten-minute carryout lunch, which consisted of homemade soup and a freshly baked herb scone. That had proved to be highly successful; many office and retail employees ordered lunch and were then able to walk to the nearby park and eat there or meet friends. Winter planned to continue the quick lunch throughout the year.
"Is it Pierre?" Alix asked softly.
Reluctantly, Winter nodded. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I love him, but...but we can't seem to make our relationship work, no matter how hard we try."
Alix stepped into the office. "I don't know if you're aware that Jordan and I went through a rough patch when we were first married."
Winter didn't, but pretended she did.
"My own parents never provided a very positive example of how married people should communicate, and I'm afraid I wasn't always as good a wife as I wanted to be," Alix admitted sheepishly.
Winter remembered that Alix had made several costly mistakes at work before she'd become pregnant--mistakes like leaving out a key ingredient. Winter had talked with her, and Alix had taken their talk to heart and made an effort to improve. Winter had never once regretted keeping her on staff.
Alix gazed down at the floor. "I hate to tell you this, but I was the biggest shrew ever. I had a habit of not telling Jordan what I wanted, because I believed he should already know. He was my husband and, if he loved me, he should automatically be aware of my needs. Well, not surprisingly, that wasn't too effective."
Winter looked at her thoughtfully. Her own problems with Pierre came down to communication, too. Jordan was a minister, and she wondered if that accounted for his greater willingness--or perhaps ability--to work out the difficulties in his marriage.
"This pregnancy hasn't been easy, either, especially after we lost the first one. I'm still not confident about the kind of mother I'll be. All my fears seemed to coalesce into this continuous bad attitude toward Jordan. I can't believe he put up with me."
She smiled and glanced up. "Don't get me wrong. Jordan's no saint and he contributed to his share of arguments, but he never let things get out of hand. No matter how unreasonable I became."
"So what changed?" Most of this was news to Winter. Alix was a private person and if something bothered her she kept it to herself. Winter recognized that there was a reason Alix had chosen to bring up such a personal subject now.
"I realize I might not be a perfect mother, but I'm determined to be a good one. I love my baby. It's amazing to me that I can love him this much and he has yet to be born. Jordan feels the same. He's so excited. I wish you could see him. Every night he puts his hand on my belly and prays for the baby and then kisses him good-night."
"That's sweet." Winter knew Alix was confiding a part of herself she never had before. "You're telling me this because you think your experience can help Pierre and me?"
Alix pulled out a chair and sat down. "After the morning sickness passed, I felt dreadful about the way I'd treated Jordan. He put up with my moods and was gentle and caring through the worst of it." She grimaced in obvious embarrassment. "One morning after I threw up I blamed him for everything. I even called him a bunch of names and told him our love life was over. I didn't mean it and felt horrible about it after I got to work."
Winter stifled a laugh and leaned back in her chair.
"I called Jordan, but he was out with his father. After I finished here, I went over to my in-laws' house and Susan--my mother-in-law--and I had a long talk. Susan's become like a mother to me. She listened to everything. The advice she gave me might help you and Pierre, too."