Chapter Two: The Unexpected Visitor

Elliot groaned as he turned onto his street and saw Kathy's station wagon parked in front of the house. He knew she'd been coming back periodically over the past year to collect stuff that she and the kids had wanted. At first, it had just been practical items, clothes, school supplies, things like that. Then it had been more personal belongings, Lizzie's dolls, Dickie's baseball glove, and it had made him sad that her scavenging was turning his home into an empty, sterile house. At least before, she had always managed to come and go while he was at work, the nosy neighbor delighting in informing him that, 'Yer wife came by again. Left with a couple of boxes of stuff.' Why did she have to be here tonight?

He considered cruising past the house, coming back later when she was gone, but as he drew closer, he decided he was tired and there was no way in hell she was going to drive him from his own home now that she'd left him there alone. Besides, with the amount of ice frozen on the streets, traveling any farther than necessary would be foolish and irresponsible. His heart sank as he realized that, at the very least, he had to invite her to spend the night for her own safety. After a moment's hesitation, he parked the car and got out, slamming the door a little harder than necessary, and climbed up the steps deciding as he went that chivalry was dead and he wouldn't be trading his bed for the couch just so she could be comfortable. He was about to put his key in the lock when the doorknob started turning.

"Hello," she greeted him casually.

"Uhhh . . . h-hi," he managed to stammer.

Kathy looked phenomenal in a slinky gold, off-the-shoulder, knee-length dress that showed off all her best features, her slender neck, the creamy white skin of her shoulders, her sexy legs, and her luscious curves. God, how he loved her curves! She got them from bearing him four beautiful children, and just knowing that made her the sexiest woman in the world in his eyes.

"Wha-," he cleared his throat and took a moment to catch his breath. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I, uh . . . I needed to talk to you," she replied uneasily.

She wore her dark blonde hair loose in a thick cascade over her left shoulder, a little longer than it had been the last time he had seen her, and the pearl and diamond earrings and pendant he had given her for, God, had it been their tenth wedding anniversary? He didn't remember which one, but he had felt so proud taking her out to Scarentino's. It had been the first time he'd had the money to buy her something nice that he knew she wanted, but more important than that, she was with him. Without wanting to, he let his glance flit to where her left hand rested on the doorframe and he felt his heart start to pound when he realized she still wore her all-important wedding ring.

Of course, she could just be waiting for him to sign the divorce papers. His excitement suddenly squashed, he squeezed past her into the house and said brusquely, "So, talk."

He heard her surprised little puff of air, but just kept walking toward the kitchen. He needed time to read the situation and figure out how he was going to play it. Because of his job, he saw little enough of his kids as it was, and there was no way he was going to let her screw him with some custody agreement that restricted when, where, and how often he could visit them. If that's what she was up to, she could go right straight to hell, but then, he really didn't think she would use the children to hurt him that way. She was too good of a mother for that. So, if that wasn't her agenda, what was?

"What is this?" he asked in surprise upon seeing the table set for dinner for two.

Kathy had laid out a rich, cream-colored, Irish linen tablecloth that one of her immigrant ancestors had brought over on the boat and usually only used on holidays. On it she'd set their good china, the silver her parents had given them for their wedding gift, and the candlesticks they had chosen together as their gift to each other on their first anniversary. He remembered wanting a camcorder, but agreeing to the candlesticks because all he really wanted was to make her happy.

"I thought we could talk over dinner," she replied. "When's the last time you ate a decent meal anyway? You look like you've lost some weight."

"The last time someone was home to cook it," he jibed, giving her the same grin he used when he knew a suspect was guilty but he had to pretend to be a friend in order to get a confession. "And yeah, about twelve pounds."

He heard her sigh and knew he was trying her patience, but he couldn't help himself. He was pissed off at her for leaving, for taking the kids, for stealing away bit by bit all the little things that had made his house a home, and for being here now, looking like that, reminding him of what he had lost.

"Well, why don't you go freshen up, and I'll finish making the salad and start cooking the steaks?"

"Baked potatoes on the side?" he asked, folding his arms and leaning against the counter.

She nodded.

"Tiramisu for dessert?"

"Yeah."

"My favorite meal," he observed. "What do you want?" He was working her like a perp, but he didn't care. He just wanted to know what was going on.

She looked down, bit her lip uncertainly, looked up, and said, "I want to talk. No pressure, no animosity, just . . . conversation."

It would have been so easy for Elliot to be mean, to deliberately say something to hurt her. Lord knew she'd hurt him enough. Then again, she'd only left because he'd become impossible to live with. How much had that hurt both of them? Of course, who wouldn't be difficult with her forever nagging him about the hours he worked, pestering him to spend more time with her and the kids, more time at home, bugging him about his relationship with his partner. She knew when she married him that he wanted to be a detective. She should have been able to handle the strain.

He shook his head. It didn't really matter who had started it, the important thing now was that they both continue behaving like adults for the children's sake.

Nodding, he moved off in the direction of the stairs. "I think there's a bottle of red wine in one of the cupboards."

"I found it already," she said. "It's chilling in the fridge."

As he showered, Elliot contemplated what he wanted to wear. Kathy was dressed to kill, ready for an elegant dinner or a seduction scene. He couldn't deny that at first sight, she had taken his breath away, and he was sure she had noticed his reaction. He wondered if she wanted him as much as he still wanted her.

There was a dark blue suit hanging in his closet, not quite navy, but even he knew it played up his eyes beautifully, and he knew how much she loved his eyes. She'd made him buy it a few years ago when she'd had to get a bridesmaid's dress to be in an old friend's wedding upstate. They'd left the kids with her mom, and once they'd gotten back to the hotel room after the reception, the suit had stayed on him about thirty seconds longer than she had stayed in her dress. Last time he'd worn it, it had been a little snug, but since he had lost some weight, whatever she was planning, that suit would help level the playing field