Keeper of the Light

There were four skylights in the cathedral ceiling above them and they let in a welcome pool of clear white sunlight.

“Thanks.” He walked over to the dining area and began straightening the already neat piles of paper on the dining room table, the table she had long considered her own. He seemed flustered at having her there, and she felt as though she’d walked in on him with another woman. In a way, she had.

“I’m interrupting your work,” she said. His portable computer was also on the table, and it was apparent he’d been in the throes of something when she arrived.

“No, that’s all right. I’m ready for a break. Have a seat.”

She lowered herself into one of the familiar dining room chairs.

“I’ve got some iced tea. Or would you rather have wine?”

“Tea would be great,” she said. She watched him disappear into the kitchen, knowing she was keeping things from him as well. She could hardly tell him she’d had lunch with Alec, and she certainly wouldn’t ask him if he’d known Annie went to Boston College. She could imagine his reaction if that was something he hadn’t known. He’d torment himself over what might have been. She didn’t want to feed his fantasy of Annie any further.

He returned to the dining room and set her iced tea on the table, but he didn’t sit down, and he had brought nothing to drink for himself. He stood near the computer, hands in his pockets.

“Have a cookie.” Olivia gestured toward the plate.

Paul lifted the foil and raised a cookie to his mouth. “No arsenic in them I hope.” He smiled, and for a moment she was struck by his hazel eyes, by the warmth his smile gave them. Seeing that charm in his face made her realize how long it had been since she’d felt any affection at all from him. She wished she knew how to seduce. She had never learned—had steadfastly avoided learning—those skills.

She forced her eyes back to the table. “What are you working on?”

Paul glanced at one of the stacks of paper. “I joined the Save the Kiss River Lighthouse Committee. We’re putting together an educational brochure to generate interest in saving the lighthouse.”

He had always had a weird fascination with that lighthouse. The day they arrived in the Outer Banks, before they had even gotten all the boxes in the house, he went to see it. Olivia stayed home and unpacked, a little annoyed at being left to do the work by herself and disconcerted by the fact that he hadn’t invited her to come along. That day had been the beginning of the end.

“It was bizarre, Olivia,” he said now. “I walked into this meeting and who should be the chairman of the committee but Annie’s husband.” He looked at her and she knew he was checking to see if this was a safe topic. She could not be sure of her own expression. Alec was chairman of the lighthouse committee? Paul was working shoulder to shoulder with him? She thought quickly. Should she tell Paul that she knew Alec? Then she’d have to tell him about the stained glass lessons, the two lunch dates. She felt herself getting wrapped more tightly in the web of lies.

“I wanted to get up and leave,” he continued, waving the cookie in the air, “but I was trapped. I’d practically begged to be allowed to join, but the last thing I expected was to find Alec O’…” He stopped and grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear any more of my Annie crap.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “You can talk about her. I know you need to. I know there isn’t anyone else you can talk to about her.” He probably felt the way she had earlier that afternoon when she’d bent Alec’s ear about him. She finally understood Paul’s need to spill it all out.

He sat down across the table from her, staring at her, and his eyes had reddened. “Why would you do that?” he asked. “Why would you sit here and let me ramble on about someone who destroyed your marriage?”

“Because I still love and care about you.”

He turned his face away from her. “I can’t talk about her to you anymore. It was never fair of me to do that.”

Olivia stood up and walked over to his chair. She knelt next to him, resting her hand on top of his, but he stiffened and drew his hand away.

“Don’t,” he said.

She sat back on the carpet. “Do you remember when we used to take those long walks together early in the morning?”

He frowned at her. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“It’s one of my favorite memories, walking with you through Rock Creek Park, holding hands. Buying bagels with cream cheese and scallions at Joe’s little deli and…”

“And your beeper going off half the time.”

She leaned back against the wall, defeated. “Did it seem like that often?”

“At least.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known what it would cost me, I would have done something about it.” She had thought he’d admired her for her diligence. A workaholic, he used to call her, although he had always made it sound like a term of endearment rather than a complaint. Certainly he understood the forces that had made her that way. He understood them better than anyone. Even in high school and college, she’d intentionally lost herself in work, leaving herself no time for a social life. Work had kept her safe from the flirting she had never been able to master, the casual sex that was entirely out of the question. By the time she met Paul and discovered she felt safe with him, her work pattern was firmly in place and there seemed to be no reason to change it. Now she could see her mistake. She’d taken him for granted. She had given Paul so little of herself that he needed to turn to a fantasy to feel whole, and he’d found the fantasy superior to his marriage.

“It’s my fault.” She rested her head on her arms. “It’s my fault everything fell apart. I miss you so much, Paul. I would do anything if you’d come back. I’d quit my job. I’d work as a waitress. I’d shell shrimp. Shuck oysters. Just weekdays. No evenings or weekends.”

She heard him laugh and when she looked up he had taken off his glasses. His eyes were still rimmed with red,