“I’ll do what I can,” he assured her.
“Soon?”
“Soon,” he promised.
Even if it stirred up a particularly nasty hornet’s nest.
* * *
When she reached The Corner Spa at the corner of Main and Palmetto, Karen paused. She was beginning to regret that she hadn’t followed Dana Sue’s advice and taken a slow walk around the park to calm herself down again before arriving here to confront her husband. Even she knew it was probably a terrible idea to do it, not only when he was at work, but when she was still completely furious about being left in the dark. Nothing was likely to be resolved if she started out yelling, which is what seemed likely.
“Karen? Is everything okay?”
She turned at the softly spoken query from her former neighbor, Frances Wingate, a woman now nearing ninety who still had plenty of spunk, even if her age was slowing her down a bit. Despite her own lousy mood, Karen’s expression brightened just seeing the woman who was like a mother to her in so many ways.
“Frances, how are you? And what are you doing here?”
Frances regarded her with a perplexed expression. “I’m taking Elliott’s exercise class for seniors. Didn’t he tell you?”
Karen heaved a frustrated sigh. “Apparently there’s quite a lot my husband hasn’t been sharing with me recently.”
“Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound good,” Frances said. “Why don’t we go to Wharton’s and have a chat? It’s been ages since we’ve had a chance to catch up. Something tells me you’d be much better off talking to me than going inside to see Elliott when you’re obviously upset.”
Knowing that Frances was absolutely right, Karen gave her a grateful look. “Do you have the time?”
“For you I can always make time,” Frances said, linking her arm through Karen’s. “Now, did you drive or shall we walk?”
“I didn’t bring my car,” Karen told her.
“Then walking it is,” Frances said without a moment’s hesitation. “Good thing I wore my favorite sneakers, isn’t it?”
Karen glanced down at her bright turquoise shoes and smiled. “Quite a fashion statement,” she teased.
“That’s me, all right. The ultimate fashionista of the senior set.”
When they reached Wharton’s and ordered sweet tea for Frances and a soda for Karen, Frances looked into her eyes. “Okay now, tell me what has you so out of sorts this afternoon and what it has to do with Elliott.”
To her dismay, Karen’s eyes filled with unexpected tears. “I think my marriage is in real trouble, Frances.”
Genuine shock registered on her friend’s face. “Nonsense! That man adores you. We chat after class every week, and you and the kids are all he talks about. He’s as infatuated now as he was on the day you met. I’m as sure of that as it’s possible to be.”
“Then why doesn’t he tell me anything?” Karen lamented. “I didn’t know he was seeing you every week. And earlier I found out that he’s planning to open some sort of gym for the men in town. We don’t have the money for him to take that kind of risk, even if he has business partners. Why would he take on something like that without even talking it over with me?”
She gave Frances a resigned look. “People warned me about these macho Hispanic men. I know it’s a stereotype, but you know what I mean, the ones who just do whatever they want and expect their wives to go along with it. Elliott’s father was like that, but I never thought Elliott, of all people, would be. He was such a thoughtful, considerate sweetheart when we were dating.”
“Are you so sure he’s keeping you in the dark deliberately?” Frances inquired reasonably. “There could be a lot of explanations for why he hasn’t mentioned these things. With two children and two jobs, you’re both incredibly busy. Your schedules don’t always mesh that perfectly, so time together must be at a premium.”
“That’s true,” Karen admitted. She often worked late at night, while he left for the spa early in the morning. They were sometimes like ships passing in the night. Their schedules weren’t great for real communication.
“And when you do have time off, what do you do?” Frances persisted.
“We help the kids with their homework or drive them to all these endless activities they’re involved in, then fall into bed exhausted.”
Frances nodded. “I rest my case. There’s not much time in there for the kind of heart-to-heart talks young couples need to have, especially when they’re still adjusting to being married.”
Karen gave her a wry look. “We’ve been together awhile, Frances.”
“But you’ve only been married and living together for a couple of years. It took time for your annulment to come through. Dating is very different from being married and establishing a routine. It takes time to get in a rhythm that works, one that gives you the time alone you need to communicate effectively. I imagine Elliott’s as anxious for that as you are.”
There was something in her voice that gave Karen pause. “Has he said something to you? Please tell me you weren’t in on this whole gym project, too. Was I the only person in town he hadn’t told?”
“Stop working yourself into a frenzy,” Frances said, though her cheeks turned pink as she said it. “Elliott and I did have a chat earlier, but he didn’t mention a thing about any gym. Just now was the first I’ve heard about that. He told me that he’s been putting off talking to you about something important because you’re both so busy. He never got into the specifics with me.”
“I see,” Karen said stiffly, not entirely relieved by the explanation or by the idea that more people had been talking behind her back.
“Don’t you dare make more of that than is called for,” Frances scolded. “I asked him why he was so distracted in class today. He hemmed and hawed and finally admitted he’d been keeping something from you. I told him there was no good excuse for not communicating with a spouse.” She gave Karen a pointed look. “Notice I said communicating, not yelling. Real communication involves listening, as well as talking.”
Karen smiled weakly, duly chastised. “I hear you. But how on earth do we find the time to really sit down and have those heart-to-heart talks we used to have when we were dating? Right now we need all the hours at work we can
