Newlywed Games by Mary Davis Page B

everything around it. It had a life all its own, just needing someone to prune and pluck it lovingly.
    There were a few poplar trees at the edge of the woods—she could tell by their distinctive white bark. A willow tree rested next to the rushing stream, the pine trees made an effective fence, and some scrub oak that could make anyplace look haunted. She’d have to wait until the leaves came out to figure out what the other trees were.
    Wait? What are you talking about? You’ll never see this yard in its spring or summer splendor.
    There were no leaves yet for the gentle breeze to rustle, but she could feel it on her sun-warmed face as she closed her eyes and listened. The rushing of water and birds returning from their winter vacation filled the air. But no traffic noise.
    Hands settled down on her shoulders, causing her to jump. She felt silly for starting at Bruce’s touch, but she hadn’t expected him. She was in her own world.
    “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
    “You didn’t scare me; I was just surprised. I forgot I wasn’t here alone.”
    “You like it here, don’t you?”
    Meghann nodded, inspired by her surroundings.“Who wouldn’t? It’s perfect. Lucky would love to have all this room to run.”
    “You want to have a look inside?” he asked. “Your mom talked the repairman into letting us in.”
    She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t. What was the point? But her answer jumped past her lips: “I’d love to!”
    Once inside the kitchen where Meghann’s mother was waiting while examining the cabinets and appliances, the house took on a new charm. She wondered who the original occupants had been.
    “I like this house,” her mother said, closing the dishwasher. “They don’t make houses like this anymore. This is just what you have always wanted.”
    “I like it, too.” Bruce reached out to take Meghann’s hand. Once again his touch warmed her. If only it were real…if only he wanted to hold her hand, to be close to her…if only his affection and smiles weren’t all a part of the act.
    She nonchalantly disengaged her hand from his and admired the kitchen cabinet’s workmanship. If she were going to survive the next three weeks with her heart intact, she needed to keep as much distance between them as possible.
    “It’s nice,” she said cautiously.
    Bruce scrutinized her. “Nice? Just nice? What could you possibly find at fault? Not enough bedrooms? Kitchen too small? What do you want in a house, Meg?”
    He was siding with her mother. Why would he push for her opinion on a house? This house or any house?
    “It’s just so big. We don’t need a house this large.” A quiet voice inside her was nudging her to tell the truth. “In fact…we don’t need a house at all.” With that said, she bit her bottom lip.
    “But you said neither one of your current places was adequate to accommodate both your lives,” her mother said.
    “What is it you are proposing, dear?” Bruce said with great interest.
    “I’m just trying to be honest here.” She swallowed nervously, drilling him with a steely glare.
    “Now is probably not the best time.”
    Meg’s eyes widened at the pointed comment. “There is no time like the present,” she shot back.
    “Then, by all means, go on.” Bruce crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on the counter in resignation.
    “Maybe you two could decide later,” her mother said and took hold of the counter for balance. “I suddenly feel spent, like someone pulled the drain plug and all my energy swooshed out.” She moved her hands in sweeping motion.
    Meghann turned a startled look at her mother. She did look exhausted. Guilt swept Meg at the sight of her mother’s white face. She’d been so caught up in her subtle debate with Bruce that she hadn’t noticed how weary her mother was—and she’d missed her opportunity to tell the truth yet again.
    She wondered why that last part didn’t bother her as much as it should. “I’m sorry, Mom.