Part 22 (1/2)
”Logan, if you'd only-”
”Just tell me. Have I got it right?”
She pulled back to her side of the sofa, shock giving way to anger-anger that tightened her stomach and brought a hot flush to her cheeks. ”Yes,” she said, her tone as flat as his. ”You've got it right.”
”I suppose you knew about this the other night,” he accused, ”when you came up with that crack about yourL.A.opening to put Helen and Fiona in their places. You knew then, didn't you, and you never said a word to me?”
The anger inside her burned hotter. She kept her voice low with great effort. ”No, Logan. I didn't know.
Ihoped . But I didn't know any of this until Belinda called this afternoon.”
That stopped him. For a few seconds, anyway. But he wasn't about to let the fact that he'd judged her unfairly slow him down for long. He shook his head-in disgust, or disbelief, or some distressing combination of the two. ”You could have talked to me before you made your plans.”
Stay cool, she told herself. It's not going to help if you start yelling at him.
”I know,” she said, each word precise, strictly controlled. ”I probably should have talked to you first. But I got excited. I agreed to meet her right away. And then I didn't want to call you and try to discuss it while you were taking care of patients. It just seemed wiser to go ahead and make my plans, and then explain everything when you got home.”
He made a low sound in his throat, a sound that dismissed her,a sound that disregarded everything she'd said. ”This is totally irresponsible of you. Rosie is barely two months old. And you are nursing. You can't leave her for long.”
Lacey kept her mouth shut. Rosie often went as long as four hours between feedings. And there was such a thing as a breast pump, after all. But she knew her husband wouldn't hear her if she told him those things. No point in wasting her breath.
He sneered, ”I've never met this-what did you say her name was?”
She sighed. ”AdeleLevenson .”
”How do I know that this AdeleLevenson is someone reliable?”
That really grated. She couldn't keep quiet, couldn't hold back the sarcasm. ”Well, I don't know,Logan. How about because I say so and I'm your wife-and youtrust me?”
He looked away, picked up his brandy gla.s.s, gulped down a too-big sip. She sat, waiting, watching him regroup,knowing just how his mind worked.
He'd come on way too strong, and he was realizing that now, remembering what he was. Areasonable man.
”Listen,” he said at last, gently now. ”You've got to look at this logically. It's just not a good time for something like this. You have a two-month-old baby. And responsibilities here. I thought you told me that on Sat.u.r.day, you were helping Fiona out at one of her charity events.”
She had to suppress a groan of disbelief. ”Oh,Logan. Do youhear yourself? You're saying I should turn down the most important career opportunity that's ever come my way because I promised Fiona I'd help out at a rummage sale.”
Now he looked wounded. ”The rummage sale is something that you agreed to do.”
”Yes, I did. But I'll call Fiona first thing tomorrow. I'm sure she'll understand. Everything-all of this-can be worked out. As I said, I have friends inL.A.who will help me with Rosie. And we have Mrs. Hopper. She's a jewel and you know she'll take good care of you while we're away, unless-” she tried one more time ”-you decide to come with me?”
”I can't get away now. It's impossible.”
”All right, then you'll stay home. But as I just said, we can work it out. It'll be a challenge, yes. But not an insurmountable one.”
He had that intractable look on his face, an expression she'd always disliked-and never more so than now. ”It's not good for Rosie,” he said again. ”You can't just run off and leave her with your flighty artistic friends.”
She held on to her patience-by a thread. ”Logan. Just because a person is an artist doesn't necessarily mean they're flighty. Or irresponsible.”
”I don't know these friends of yours.”
She closed her eyes, dragged in a breath. ”We're going in circles.”
”I don't want you to do this.”
”I got that. Loud and clear. And my question is, why?”
”I've told you. For a number of reasons.”
”Yes, you have. A number of trumped-up, fake, completely meaningless reasons.”
”Meaningless? I'd hardly call it meaningless that I want my wife at home with me, and I want to know that my daughter is being well cared-for.”
”Oh, come on. I'll be gone for five days. And Rosie, as I've said about ten times now, will be fine.”
”It's not a good idea.”
Oh, how she longed to start shouting. But somehow she managed to hold her anger and frustration in check. She leaned closer to him. ”Why won't you tell me what's really going on here? Please. I want to understand.”
He sat back, reached for his brandy again. ”I've told you my concerns. They're completely reasonable.”
”Reasonable,” she repeated.
”Yes,” he said, ”reasonable.”
”You know, it wouldn't be hard at all for me to learn to hate that word.”
He emptied the gla.s.s and then set it down a little too hard. ”I don't want to discuss it further. Call that dealer and tell her you're not coming.”
Her mouth dropped open. ”What did you say?”
”You heard me.”
”Tell me this isn't happening. Tell me this is some nightmare I've stumbled into, that in a moment or two, I'm going to wake up.”
”Just call that d.a.m.n dealer.”
”No.”