Author's Note:
You guys really know how to push my buttons. Here you go, super-obsessed—voilà, the next chapter. Thank you so much, all you unwavering fans out there, for reading and leaving those wonderful reviews. They are a part of what keep me going with these little stories of mine.
Rest assured, even though the update frequency has slowed down a lot on this story, I am going to finish it. I've said that before, and I will. It's just that my job is sometimes putting a strain on my (creative) energies, plus it's keeping me super-busy in May with a lot of business trips that keep me away from the computer and the time and means to continue this story. I wish I had more free time to devote to fan fiction right now. And I really hope things will slow down somewhat in June. Bear with me. But keep prodding for updates, that usually helps.
Thanks go out again to Sisterdebmac for beta-reading and helpful comments. I don't need to say how much I'm looking forward to meeting you in person, do I? And GermanJoan: Congratulations on finishing the letter! Good work! Now if you could only continue those stories of yours... (nag nag nag) And on the off-chance of Tote (or namewithheld) reading this: Where are you, gal? The Dorquettes are missing you like crazy! I need another one of your stories. SOON!
Chapter 9 – Familiar Places
Joan heard the key turning in the front door. She knew it could only be Adam since Elya had called earlier, saying she would stay with a friend after school. Hesitantly, Joan crossed the living room to stand in the doorway that led into the hall. She tried to assess her husband's mood, to see if she had a shot at apologizing for this morning.
He gave her a quick and sad but condescending look after he had taken off his shoes and hung his jacket on the coat rack. He wordlessly walked past her and went straight upstairs.
Joan wanted to cry with frustration, angry tears threatened to form in her eyes. What could she do to make it up to Adam? She couldn't stand him being mad at her, couldn't stand lying in bed with him when he was quietly seething and brooding not two feet away.
She went back into the kitchen to busy herself with finishing making dinner. Adam would probably be hungry, maybe she could bait him into talking by having dinner with her.
She opened the oven door to take a look at the lasagna that she had put in there half an hour ago. The cheese was getting brown and the sauce was making bubbles, just the way it should be. This was her dad's infamous recipe, something she hadn't made for such a long time. But she hadn't forgotten it. The smell that wafted up to her nose made her mouth water and she took the casserole out of the oven with padded kitchen gloves to put it on the counter.
Taking two plates out of the cupboard, she placed them next to the casserole and went upstairs. She found Adam in the study, typing something on the computer, his face reflecting the white-ish glow of the computer screen.
She stood in the door and addressed him. "Dinner's ready," she said plainly, hoping it would prompt him to look at her and join her downstairs.
She could see his jaw clench before he coldly said, "I already ate," without looking at her.
"I made lasagna," Joan said very quietly.
There was a pregnant pause before Adam repeated, "I said I already ate."
"Adam, please," she pleaded, but he just angrily kept typing away, staring at the computer screen.
Joan lingered in the door another two seconds and then went back downstairs. This was worse than she had expected, had hoped for. She scooped a slice of lasagna onto one plate and put the other one back in the cupboard, sitting down at the dinner table on her own, listlessly eating the Italian dish. It didn't taste quite so good anymore.
About halfway through, she lost her appetite, couldn't stop thinking about the wounded and angry expression on Adam's face. She had to do something about this. She got up with resolve, threw the half-eaten slice of lasagna into the trash and went upstairs again. She knew what she was gonna do, now she only needed to make Adam come with her.
This time she didn't stop in the doorway, she entered the study and stood next to the desk chair. "Adam," she said with urgency to her voice.
He still didn't look at her. "Adam," she addressed him again.
"What? What do you want?" he angrily spat at her.
Joan dropped to her knees for lack of another chair she could sit down upon to level with him. She swiveled the desk chair around so that Adam would be facing her.
His eyes finally locked with hers, but his gaze was cold, determined. "I need you to come with me," she boldly said.
"To where?" he asked, his voice still anything but friendly or cooperative.
"You'll see."
Adam was about to swivel the chair back to the screen, but Joan stopped it with her hands that were gripping the armrests. "Please," she whispered desperately, trying to convey her despair with her gaze. She was losing him, he wasn't backing down.
Not knowing what else to do, she gripped his hands. She could feel he wanted to pull them away, but she held on tightly. "Adam, please. I need you."
His shoulders slumped and Adam pulled his hands out from under Joan's as she released her tight hold on them. "Oh, you need me, do you?" he told her cynically. "Where were you when I needed you? Forgive me when I won't jump to your tune just because you say you need me to."
Joan's eyes filled with tears, she couldn't hold them back much longer. She sank back to sit on her heels, still in a kneeling position. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Adam, I ... I want to make things right. We've been apart so long, and now that we're back together, we're not. We're further apart than we were before. And I can't stand that."
Her breath hitched with a suppressed sob. The words tumbled from her lips without rhyme or reason. "Yes, I slept with someone else, someone I didn't love. But I wanted it to be you, I never wanted anyone else. That's the truth. But I couldn't have you. I didn't mean to sleep with that guy. It was a mistake. I felt ashamed afterwards, dirty. Like I had just betrayed you. I mean, that's exactly what I did, right?
"I tried so hard to convince myself that it would be okay because you wouldn't know, wouldn't know what I did because you were thousands of miles away. And if I could just forget about it, pretend it never happened, it would be okay. But it did happen. It's not like I went out there with the desire to just fuck someone because I needed to get laid," Joan couldn't help but use such strong language, she wanted to get her point across. "It was one of those things that you don't even think about until afterwards, when you realize that you just made this humongous mistake."
She could now feel Adam's eyes on her, but she couldn't bear to look into them, for fear she would find them filled with anything other than understanding, forgiveness. Looking at her lap, she went on, "God, Adam, how did it go that far? I just missed you so much, loved you so much. But it was like it would never happen, like I would never be back with you. So what possible harm could it have done that I made this one transgression? Except it wasn't like that, it wasn't like that at all. It wasn't just one transgression. It was never just anything. And I only realized that much too late."
Joan angrily wiped at her tears, still not meeting Adam's eyes. She got up, another sob constricting her throat as she did. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, and after a moment, she added, "I love you."
She left the room, more tears streaming down her cheeks. She stumbled out of the study and into the bedroom where she sank down with her back to the side of the bed, sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up. She couldn't help but let the tears flow freely now, sobs shaking her body.
She didn't know how long she sat there. She had stopped crying a while ago when she sensed a shadow falling over her. She slowly looked up and saw Adam standing in the doorway, blocking out the light from the corridor. His eyes were as soft as his voice when he asked hesitantly. "So, where did you want to go?"
She felt strangely numb, her eyelids scratching her corneas as she blinked. Did that mean ...? "A special place, our special place." she said sadly. Did it matter anymore?
Adam looked confused, not sure what she meant. "Do you still want to go?" he carefully asked.
Did she? Joan didn't know. But if this was their shot at making things right, wasn't it her duty to take it? Wouldn't she have to?
"Yes," she told him.
She got up and went downstairs, Adam following her.
The drive was quiet, neither of them dared start a conversation. The silence grew heavy, the noise of the motor became almost too loud to bear. Joan could feel every bump in the dirt road they were now on like a punch to the knot in her stomach that had never quite dissipated.
She stole a glance at Adam, who was looking out the passenger side window. She was sure he had recognized where they were going a while ago, now that they were almost there. Joan pulled into the parking lot where only a few other cars were parked.
The sun was low in the sky by now, it would be setting before long, but its rays were warming her face as she got out of the car at the same time Adam did.
He quickly took in the landscape, then said to her, "Mercer Creek."
"Yeah," Joan said, and it sounded like a sigh. "We used to come here all the time, do you remember?"
He slowly nodded. "Yeah, we had some of our most important conversations here." Lowering his voice a notch, he added, "This was where we decided to try again after ... you know ... Bonnie."
Yes, Joan thought, He knows exactly why I wanted to go here.
"Déjà vu?" Joan carefully asked and looked at Adam.
His gaze was on the horizon, squinting his eyes against the sun in the distance. He drew in a deep breath and held it before he let it out again. "Jane, I ... I don't know."
He had called her Jane. That was a start, she thought. She lightly touched his arm. "Let's walk."
Adam didn't say anything but started walking alongside Joan down the path that followed the creek. The only sound that accompanied their footsteps for the first few minutes was the low babble of the water to their left. They were both trying to come up with ways to get out of this mess they had landed themselves in.
"Jane," Adam finally said. She stopped walking and Adam did too. Their gazes met and he went on, "I love you too, I always have. But you're not exactly making it easy." He lifted his hands to underline his words. "I mean, we've been through so much, and now that I have you back, however long that may last, it just ... it felt so perfect at first. I had hoped it would happen for the longest time, and then ... then I find out you were sleeping with someone else while I was waiting for you."
He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, looking down at the grassy path they were walking on. "It was like it popped this whole pink bubble, you know?"
"Yeah." Joan licked her bottom lip which had gone all rough and dry from the gentle but steady breeze.
Adam lifted his head and looked at Joan. "I just don't know what to do now. I mean, back when I slept with ... with Bonnie," it was still hard for him to say her name, even now, "all I ever wanted was for you to forgive me. It was like nothing else mattered, like I would be okay if you just didn't hate me anymore. But it's different now, and I know now that it's not quite that easy."
Joan could feel tears threatening to form again, so she quickly looked away, studying a crow that had landed in the field just a few yards away and was pecking at the ground to find food or supplies for a nest.
She heard Adam's voice going on, ever so soft and gentle, just like the breeze that was tugging at their hair. "I don't hate you—not like you hated me. But you telling me, me now knowing, that changes a few things. I'm not quite sure what exactly, but ... but I don't know if I can just go back and pretend it didn't happen."
Joan spun around and faced Adam. "And I didn't ask that of you. I never asked that of you."
"I know," he replied. "But you did ask for my forgiveness, right?"
Did she? Of course she did, who was she kidding. "Yeah, I guess I did," she quietly admitted.
"Oh Jane," he whispered as his intense and attentive gaze on her never wavered. He took a step closer and enveloped her in a gentle embrace. "What are we gonna do?"
"I don't know," she whispered into his shoulder. "Try the best we can?" she suggested hesitantly.
He nodded and pushed her away to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, which Joan silently accepted, relished. She leaned in again and they stood with their foreheads against each other for a moment before they separated again.
They continued walking next to each other in silence for a while. Joan felt strangely elated and hopeful. She hadn't lost Adam after all, not completely. She had a chance to win him back, to make them one again.
In the distance, the sun was sinking lower in the sky, its color changing from yellow to orange before it disappeared behind the horizon as Joan and Adam came to their old place, the opening where the toppled over old tree trunk still lay, now overgrown with green and yellow lichen. "God, is this thing still here?" Joan remarked more than asked.
"Come on," Adam said and, taking Joan's hand, walked to the log, sitting down in the grass, leaning his back against it. As he did, he gently guided her to sit in front of him between his spread legs. Joan did without hesitation and lightly leaned her back against Adam's torso.
When he shifted his position slightly, he could feel the goose bumps on Joan's upper arms. Now that the sun was gone, the temperature had dropped a few degrees. "Come here," he said as his arms came around her and he drew her closer to share some of his body warmth with her.
She leaned her head back into the crook of his neck and they sat like that for a while until the melody of a ringing cell phone ripped them from their reverie. Adam quickly fumbled around in his jeans pocket before he pulled out his cell and answered it. "Elya?"
Joan's hand went to her mouth. She had completely forgotten about the fact that Elya would come home eventually and find the house empty without even a note or any other indication of where her parents were.
"Hey, hey, hey," she heard Adam say. "Calm down. Everything's fine. Your mother and I ... took a little hike."
There was a pause, but Joan couldn't hear Elya's response. "Don't worry, we'll be home in a while," Adam told their daughter before he hung up. "We just completely forgot our daughter," he said to Joan with a guilty sigh. "How could we forget our daughter?"
"I guess we were just a little too wrapped up in our own problems," Joan replied.
"That's no excuse," Adam said earnestly.
"No, it isn't, and we need to stop making them." She touched Adam's arm and stroked it gently. "Can we try to do that? To not make any more excuses?"
"No more excuses," he repeated in agreement.
Joan got up and held out a hand to her husband to pull him up from his sitting position. "Come on, it's time that we headed back."