Your Bed or Mine? (16 page)

“So you are divorced?” Nora asked.

“Not exactly,” Zada said.

“Well what
exactly
is going on, Zada?” Nora demanded. “Stop talking in riddles!”

Zada said, “The judge won’t grant the divorce until we reach a property settlement.”

Nora looked around the kitchen. “So you’ve decided to do what? Divide everything right down the middle? Including Simon’s
dog food? Grain for grain?”

“Very funny, Mom,” Zada told her. “Rick and I have ninety days to reach a property settlement. Rick moved back in to …”

Sally gasped. “What did you say?” She looked at Nora, then back at Zada. “My ears must be playing tricks on me,” she said.
“
You?
The woman who swore she would
never
let any man move back in if he moved out, let
Rick
move back in?”

“Temporarily,”
Zada stressed.

Sally laughed. “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it. Right?”

Zada groped for an answer.

Sally reached out and grabbed Nora’s arm.

“Come on, Mom,” she said, pulling Nora out of the kitchen. “We know Zada’s safe now. Let’s give the lovebirds some privacy.”

“‘Lovebirds’?” Nora repeated. “Oh,” she said when she realized what Sally was implying.

Lovebirds?

Lovefreakingbirds!

“Sally, come back here!” Zada yelled.

Zada hurried down the hall after them.

Sally pushed Nora through the open front door.

“Sally!” Zada yelled again.

But Rick stepped out of nowhere, blocking her path.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, grinning at her.

“Yes,” Zada said. “I’m looking at it.”

She pushed Rick out of her way.

“Get in the car!” she heard Sally yell.

The boys stopped wrestling on the front lawn. They both sprinted for the driveway. Zada reached the minivan just as Sally
was backing up. Sally’s window slid down before she drove off.

“We’re really happy you took Rick back, Zada,” Sally called out, waving madly. “Call us in a few days when your second honeymoon
is over.”

Second honeymoon?

Second honeyfreakingmoon!

Zada was livid.

So livid, she pitched a mad stomping fit, right in the middle of her driveway. She’d never been any more angry, until she
glanced over her shoulder.

Rick was walking toward her, grinning from ear to ear.

“Just curious,” he said, fishing his keys out of his jeans pocket. “But was that some mystic tribal fertility dance you were
doing? You know, for our second honeymoon?”

Zada took a threatening step in his direction.

Rick threw his hands up and stepped back.

“Hey!” he said, still grinning. “I was only kidding.”

The look on her face must have scared him.

Rick’s grin disappeared.

“Not that you care,” he said, his expression serious now. “But I’m going to the training center, and I won’t be back until
late. We have a new class starting tomorrow morning. I need to help Scrappy get things ready.”

Zada didn’t answer.

She whirled around.

She stomped down the driveway.

And marched across the street.

Jen caught up with her as she reached Tish’s porch.

“Was that Sally’s minivan I just saw driving off?”

“No,” Zada said. “That was my worst nightmare driving off. Sally
and
Mom. Both of whom Rick happily invited into the kitchen-from-hell to see me, which humiliated me to no end. And then Sally,
of course, came to the immediate conclusion I had taken Rick back.”

“You poor thing,” Jen said as Tish opened her front door. “I’d kill myself if anyone saw my kitchen in such a mess.”

“You’d kill yourself if someone found a measly crumb on your kitchen counter,” Tish teased.

Her expression turned serious when she looked at Zada.

“What’s wrong?”

Zada looked back over her shoulder as the Hummer backed down the driveway. She pointed. “He’s what’s wrong!”

“Surprise, surprise,” Tish said, but she stepped aside.

Zada and Jen walked through the door.

“I’m so angry right now,” Zada said, “you may have to bail me out of jail for first-degree murder.”

They all three headed for Tish’s kitchen.

“Joe and the boys are at the clubhouse pool,” Tish said when Zada flopped down at the table. “Take a deep breath. Calm yourself
down. And tell us what happened.”

R
ick felt like a first-class jerk.

First, for sending Nora and Sally into the kitchen.

Second, for teasing Zada about Sally’s assumption.

He knew Zada gave Sally a hard time about her husband. He knew Sally was loving rubbing Zada’s nose in the fact she had let
him move back in.

But the hurt look on Zada’s face had said it all.

He’d crossed the line, embarrassing her in front of her mother and sister.

The realization that he’d hurt Zada by walking out—far more than he’d ever made her angry—hit Rick like being mowed down by
a two-ton truck.

He started to turn the Hummer around and go back to apologize. But he knew Zada would never listen. Not right now. Not when
she was still so angry at him.

He’d apologize when he got back from the center.

Tell her he was sorry. Ask her to forgive him for being such an ass.

And for being insensitive.

And self-centered.

And most of all, immature.

He hated to admit it, but after the comments his own buddies had been making over the last couple of days, he’d started to
realize maybe he wasn’t the easiest guy to live with, after all.

Zada had a combative personality, sure.

But so did he.

Which only added more fuel to the raging fire that kept them apart—that burning desire they both had to constantly prove each
other wrong.

But was his expectation of marriage really that far-fetched? Was it really so unreasonable to want to be the king of your
own castle? To have a wife who loved you in spite of all your flaws?

Charlie had flaws, but he and Jen got along.

Joe and Tish had their differences, and still made it.

Was the magic phrase really the key to married bliss?

His father had never used the magic phrase.

He was positive of it.

And his parents had recently celebrated their fortieth anniversary!

Rick pulled his cell phone from his pocket. First, Nora and Sally showing up, and now thinking about his parents, reminded
Rick he also hadn’t called them to let them know what was going on. At least he didn’t have to worry about his parents showing
up the way Nora and Sally had just done. They would never think of showing up on anyone’s doorstep without calling first.
But then, the relationship Zada had with her mother and her sister had always been a mystery to him.

Rick shook his head.

The three of them were always in a squabble about something, yelling at each other one minute, all hugs and smiles the next.
Funny thing was, he also knew they loved each other dearly.

Zada treats me like she treats her mother and sister.

And maybe that was part of the problem.

They’d come from such different family lifestyles. Zada’s life had always been nothing but chaos. He was used to life being
neat and orderly.

Rick hit the speed dial for his parents’ number.

His father had recently retired from the military. For the past year, his parents had been living the good life in Phoenix,
Arizona—a place where his father could play golf year round, and the climate kept his mother’s asthma at bay. Maybe after
the divorce was final, he’d fly out and pay them a visit.

Rick smiled when he heard his mother’s sweet voice.

“Hi, Mother,” he said. “I should have called you Friday after I went to court, but things have been pretty hectic around here.”

Mary Clark said, “I knew you’d call when you were ready to talk about it, Rick. I’m so sorry you and Zada couldn’t work things
out. You know your father and I adore her.”

Rick hesitated before he said, “The divorce isn’t final yet, Mother.”

“You mean there’s a chance you’re going to reconsider?”

Rick heard the hope in her voice. False hope was something he didn’t want to give her.

“No,” Rick said. “I don’t think there’s any chance of a reconciliation. There are still some problems with the property settlement.
But we’re trying to work those problems out.”

He grimaced at her sigh of disappointment.

“I just wanted to let you know to call me on my cell phone if you need me,” Rick said. “I gave up the apartment. That number’s
already been disconnected.” Rick avoided his mother asking where he was staying with another question. “Is Pop around?”

His mother laughed. “Oh, he’s around, all right. We’re having the patio extended. Your father’s out back barking orders to
the poor contractor who didn’t realize what he was getting into when he agreed to do the job to a drill sergeant’s military
standard of satisfaction.”

Barking orders.

Rick grimaced again.

“I’ve come to realize I’m a lot like Pop,” Rick admitted to his mother. “Too much like him, if you want to know the truth
about it. And since Zada isn’t anything like you, I guess our marriage was pretty much doomed from the start.”

“What do you mean Zada isn’t anything like me?”

“Your personalities,” Rick said. “Zada’s in my face every second, Mother. That’s our problem. You’ve always accepted Pop’s
take-charge personality and lived with him in spite of it. Zada doesn’t have that capability.”

Mary laughed. “Where did you ever get the impression I accept your father’s take-charge personality? I put your father in
his place on a daily basis.”

Rick was stunned.

“But, but …” he stuttered. “I’ve never seen you and Pop have an argument in my life.”

“Well, of course, we never argued in front of you,” Mary said. “Claude Clark might wear the pants in this family, Rick, but
don’t you ever doubt that I tell him which pair to wear.”

My father?

Fondly known as Claude the Conqueror?

Taking orders?

Rick went from stunned to downright angry.

“Well, I hate to point this out, Mother,” Rick said sharply, “but if you and Pop
had
argued in front of me every now and then, I might have had a more realistic idea of what to expect in my marriage.”

He heard her gasp.

Uh-oh.

“Now you listen to me, Richard Avery Clark,” she said, proving she could be every bit as feisty as she claimed.

Richard Avery Clark?

You haven’t called me that since I was a kid.

“If you’d been present for every knockdown drag-out fight your father and I had when you were growing up, and still have in
case you’re wondering, you’d be complaining our
arguing
was responsible for your marriage not working out.”

“Now, Mother,” Rick said. “I was only saying …”

“Oh, grow up!” Mary snipped. “Take responsibility for your own actions like an adult. And don’t call me back until you’re
ready to apologize!”

Rick looked at his cell phone when the line went dead.

He couldn’t believe it.

His mother had
never
talked to him like that.

Never!

Rick started to call her back, then thought better of it. He’d call his mother back and apologize later, after he apologized
to Zada.

Dammit!

There was just no winning with the women in his life!

“Go ahead and have a good cry, sweetie,” Tish said, after Zada finished a rundown of the humiliating visit from her mother
and her sister.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Zada said. “Tears are nothing but a big waste of time and energy.”

Jen looked at her funny. “I think you’re serious.”

Zada sent Jen a puzzled look back. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“Because,” Jen said. “It’s a woman’s nature to cry. Tears are all tied up in our emotions. We cry when we’re happy. We cry
when we’re sad. We cry when we’re hurt or embarrassed. Sometimes we cry for no other reason than the fact that we’re long
overdue for a good, hard cry.”

“You maybe,” Zada said. “Not me.”

“You never cry?” Tish asked.

Zada shook her head. “No. I don’t.”

Jen and Tish exchanged worried looks.

Tish said, “Through this whole divorce? You’ve never cried once?”

Again, Zada shook her head.

Tish and Jen kept staring at her.

“I swear,” Zada said laughing. “I can’t even remember the last time I cried.”

“Try,” Jen said.

What?

Maybe it was the whole situation: Her losing face with her mother and Sally. Her being so angry at Rick. Maybe even her feeling
threatened by Alicia. Whatever the reason, painful memories surfaced.

This time, Zada couldn’t hold them back.

Her, holding Sally’s four-year-old hand, both of them crying as her mother followed her father to the car, begging him not
to leave. Her father, finally taking her mother by the shoulders and shoving her out of his way so he could get into his car.

Her, standing by her mother’s bed, tears streaming down her six-year-old face, begging her mother to get up. Sally sitting
on the floor, crying because their mother had been in bed for two days and she was scared and hungry.

Her, going to the wall phone in the kitchen. Pushing a kitchen chair up to the wall so she could reach the phone. Going down
the list of numbers on the bulletin board by the phone like her mother had taught her to do in case of an emergency.

Her, calling her father at work. Begging him to come home. Telling him her mother was sick. Him, saying he would come. Her
watching out the front window for hours. Him never coming.

Her, finally drying her tears. Vowing she would never cry again. Leading Sally back to the kitchen. Fixing both of them another
peanut butter sandwich.

The mental filmstrip ended.

Zada burst into tears.