Lambert's Code Page 4

  He huffed. “You’re jealous of sports? I’ve always played sports. We met on the high school football field.”

  “Don’t make me sound petty and stupid, Ethan. You know what I mean. You play or watch sports seven days a week. If it’s not sports, it’s work.”

  “And what about you? Music doesn’t consume you?”

  “No, not like sports consumes you.”

  “Having a child consumed—”

  She gasped. He stopped, a contorted expression on his face.

  “Is that what you think? Really?”

  He regarded her with his hands buried in his pockets. “It got to be a little consuming, I guess, at times, to be honest.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? I thought we were making the decisions together, Ethan.” She trembled with the reality of their conversation.

  “I couldn’t stand to—”

  Snickers billowed from the classroom. Julie whirled around to find the door wide open, her class of sixth graders absorbing every word.

  Horrified, she commanded, “Back to your seats.” She shut the door with a bang and whipped around to Ethan. “Now see what you’ve done?”

  “Don’t blame me. You’re the one with all the secrets. I suppose Sophia knows.”

  “She does not.” Julie crossed her arms. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Later? What time would be convenient for you?” Ethan walked away.

  “Please, don’t go away mad. I planned to tell you today.” Julie stepped toward him, touching his sleeve with the tips of her fingers.

  Ethan faced his wife. “I’m not mad. I’m hurt and confused, Julie. You had all night to tell me.”

  She felt her heart lock down and couldn’t form an answer.

  He continued, “All you needed to say was, ‘Ethan, we need to talk about something serious.’ Instead, you get me in an argument about buying a new car.”

  She let her gaze fall on him. “I couldn’t make myself say the words, ‘I’m barren.’ ”

  Ethan sighed as he walked toward her and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.”

  Julie rested her chin on his shoulder and cried a little, but most of her tears had already been shed.

  “I’d better get back to class.” She backed away. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I thought we could go out tonight, the Italian Hills.” He brushed her hair away from her face.

  “Oh, Eth, that place is—”

  “Jules?” He tugged on her hand, his brown eyes pleading.

  “No, I can’t. I just can’t.”

  ❧

  Ethan shut the door to his office and whirled his desk chair around. He snatched up the production reports, his thoughts a million miles away.

  Crash! Ethan peered over the desk’s edge. Perfect, just perfect. His favorite coffee mug lay shattered on the hardwood floor.

  As he swept up the last shard, Will rapped lightly on the door’s glass window. Ethan motioned for him to come in.

  “Everything okay in here?”

  “In here, yes. With my wife, no.” The residue of his conversation with Julie coated his emotions—frustration mingled with ire, compassion with sadness.

  “Ah, I see.” Will’s voice contained the proper amount of understanding, but Ethan knew he would not probe further.

  Lambert’s Furniture was a place of business, not a counseling center. Will ran a family-oriented company, but he wouldn’t take business time to untangle Ethan’s marriage knots.

  “Did you e-mail me those warehouse construction estimates?” Will asked.

  Ethan meant to do that after their nine o’clock meeting, but the prospect of meeting with Dr. Patterson, and an issue with the new product line, distracted him.

  “On their way right now.” Ethan fished through his in-box for the contractor estimates.

  “Okay, thanks.” Will shut the door behind him as he exited. Ethan found the e-mails and forwarded them to Will’s address.

  Julie, what’s happening to us?

  He found it hard to concentrate on his afternoon tasks. Normally, the day-to-day routine calmed him, even on his worst days. He liked the feeling that some things never changed.

  But the confrontation with Julie caused him to cringe. He shouldn’t have infused the situation with his anger and embarrassed her in front of her students. He’d only added insult to injury.

  “Lord, forgive me.” With decisive motion, Ethan dialed his wife’s cell. She would be in class, but he planned on leaving a humble message.

  “Julie, I’m sorry I went to the school upset and angry. Please, let’s go to the Italian Hills. We can have a nice romantic dinner and talk, okay? Bye, babe.”

  He hung up, feeling better but unable to escape his rest-lessness. He stared out the window for a minute, thinking, watching the narrow rays of the sun moving westward.

  Then he knew what he wanted to do. He shot a quick e-mail to Will.

  Gone for the rest of the day. Call my cell if you need me. See you in the morning. Ethan

  Ten minutes later, he walked under the shadows of the covered bridge, whispering prayers to his heavenly Father like the wind whispering under the eaves.

  ❧

  Julie followed the Italian Hills maître d’ to a candlelit table under the western window where snow powdered the windowsill.

  Ethan held her chair as she sat down. “Isn’t this great, babe? Fantastic food, romantic atmosphere, you and me.”

  Julie smiled at him, attempting to appreciate his efforts to smooth a healing balm over the wound of the day. Think of something nice to say. “They do have good food.” She regarded her husband as he scanned the menu. He looked like a kid poring over a Christmas toy catalog.

  She resolved to enjoy herself, or at least pretend to for Ethan’s sake. He was trying to fix things between them after all.

  But the Italian Hills’ amorous atmosphere made her feel like an alien. How could she wander down the dreamy path of romance when her heart still lingered in the valley of the shadow of death?

  Oh Lord. . .

  “Are you having the usual?” Ethan peeked over his menu, the flame of the candle flickering in his brown eyes.

  Julie glanced at the entrée section. Items that used to make her mouth water now made her stomach churn. “I’m not terribly hungry.”

  “Not hungry for portabella pasta?” He motioned at the waiter passing by. “Could we get some bread here?”

  The young man answered with a slight bow. “I’ll get your server.”

  “Mercy, Ethan. Are you that hungry? Wait for our server to come over.”

  “Yes, I’m that hungry,” he retorted.

  Silence lingered as they decided their order. When the server brought their bread and took their drink order, Ethan commented, “You look beautiful, Julie.”

  “Thank you.” Ethan was charming yet sincere; Julie wondered how he managed to find the weakness in her emotional barriers time and time again.

  He looked equally as handsome in his white mock turtleneck and navy slacks, but she couldn’t form the words. He knew, didn’t he, after all these years?

  “So how’re we doing tonight?” Ethan leaned over the table toward her.

  “We are fine.”

  He took her hand in his. “I’m really sorry about today, babe. I was out of line.”

  She bowed her head. “I’m sorry, too, Ethan. I wanted to tell you, but just—”

  “I understand. It’s okay.”

  “Oh, Ethan, what are we going to do? All my life, I’ve—”

  “Ethan. Julie. Hi.” Julie swerved to see Ethan’s cousin, Elizabeth Donovan, and her husband, Kavan, approaching.

  “Good evening, you two.” Ethan stood to greet them, glancing down at Julie with a what-do-we-do-now face.

  “Would you like to join them?” the maître d’ asked, a server already moving another two-top table over.

  “That would be lovely. Do you mind?” Elizabeth smiled at them.
“We’ve been wanting to get together with you two.”

  “Same here,” Ethan said halfheartedly.

  But not tonight, Julie thought. How could they chitchat with Elizabeth and Kavan when they had so much to discuss? Would it be rude to ask them to sit someplace else? Surely they would understand.

  But the table was set, Elizabeth and Kavan were seated, and the server headed for the kitchen with their drink order.

  Ethan touched her leg with his foot under the table to get her attention. His eyes pleaded with her. She smiled with a nod.

  They never should have gone out to dinner. She hated the feeling of I told you so, but he’d insisted, forgetting that a Lambert in White Birch, New Hampshire, was like a magnet.

  Everywhere a Lambert goes, another Lambert is sure to show.

  So they had company for dinner. It took every ounce of Julie’s energy to engage in small talk with Elizabeth while Kavan and Ethan discussed something she couldn’t quite hear. Any other day, any other time, they would have treasured Elizabeth and Kavan’s company, but tonight, oh, not tonight. The casual conversation only added to the heaviness of her soul.

  In short order, their server set down a round of iced teas and a basket of hot bread. Ethan buttered a hot slice and asked Kavan, “So what brings you and Elizabeth here night?”

  The young couple beamed at each other, holding back enormous grins, or so it seemed to Julie.

  “Well, we’re celebrating.” Elizabeth’s smile lit her face.

  “We could ask the same of you,” Kavan interjected, reaching for the butter plate. “What are you two doing here?”

  Julie peered into Ethan’s eyes as if to anchor her turbulent emotions.

  Ethan coughed and stumbled over his words, but finally said, “Nothing special, just a nice dinner.” He buttered another slice of bread, though the first one remained uneaten.

  Julie ached to change the topic away from her and Ethan. Didn’t Elizabeth say they were celebrating? Perhaps she got a raise or promotion at Creager.

  “How’s your job at Creager?” Julie asked Elizabeth with a hint of enthusiasm.

  “Great, actually.” Elizabeth sipped her tea. “I’m still in awe of how the Lord led me to that company. It’s way more fun than grad school.”

  “We make our plans, but the Lord directs our steps,” Ethan quoted from Proverbs.

  “The pay is better than grad school.” Kavan winked at his wife. “She makes a lot more than I do.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “That will all change soon, Kavan.”

  “I know, but let me relish having a rich wife for a moment.”

  Julie squirmed in her seat, feeling as if the world were closing in around her. She was about to excuse herself for the ladies’ room when the server brought their salads.

  Ethan prayed for the food, and when they echoed his amen, he asked, “So, Beth, what’s going to change soon? You’re not leaving your job, are you?”

  In her peripheral vision, Julie saw Elizabeth catch her husband’s gaze.

  “Should we tell them?” she whispered.

  Kavan grinned. “Some things are meant to be celebrated, honey.” He tapped his fork against the side of his tea glass. “We have an announcement.”

  “Let’s hear it, man.” Ethan clapped his cousin-in-law on the back.

  Julie’s stomach knotted. No, Ethan, let’s not hear it.

  Kavan motioned for Elizabeth to do the honors. “Well, we weren’t expecting this.” She tucked a strand of her curly brown hair behind her ear. “But. . .we’re expecting.”

  Kavan burst with laughter. “Elizabeth, pregnant. Can you believe it?” He toasted her with his glass of iced tea.

  Ethan coughed. “Congrat–Congratulations.” He wiped the edge of his lips with his napkin with a covert glance at Julie.

  Elizabeth reached across the table for Kavan’s hand. “My life has been all about change and hanging on to God this past year and a half, but this moves me to a whole new level.”

  “We weren’t planning on it so soon.” Kavan stopped as the server set down another round of iced teas.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Last month, the idea of being a mom freaked me out. But this month we decided, it’s happening. Let’s celebrate and tell people.” She laughed. “A baby. Our very own baby.”

  “Julie?” Ethan nudged his wife. “Isn’t this great?”

  Julie shook all over and deep in her inner being. “Excuse me.” She pushed away from the table and fled the restaurant.

  Six

  “Well, what did you want me to say? ‘Oh, that’s terrible? We can’t have kids, so why should you?’ ” Ethan paced the length of their bedroom, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his hip.

  “Of course not.” Julie lifted her face from the pillow. Black mascara covered her high cheekbones, and her green eyes were swollen.

  “Then what do you want from me?” Ethan faced her, his arms spread.

  She opened her mouth but lost her words to a deep, gut-wrenching sob.

  Ethan sighed. “Jules, you’ve got to stop crying. We’ll never get anywhere otherwise.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand on her leg.

  She jerked away from his touch. Ethan fell back on the bed. “Don’t be this way. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t know; are we?” Julie slid off the bed, unzipped her dress, and dropped it to the floor.

  Ethan could see her arms and hands trembling. All this, and they still had yet to discuss, heart to heart, the curveball life had just thrown them.

  He decided to take a different approach. “Do you want to talk to Dr. Patterson together? He recommended meeting with him.”

  “Why? It’s not going to change anything.” Julie ducked into the bathroom. Ethan heard the water running in the sink.

  “He’s experienced, walked other couples through this. He understands the last few years have been difficult for us.”

  She leaned out the bathroom door, toothbrush in her hand. “So sorry to have been an inconvenience to you.”

  Ethan lowered his head. “Did I say that? I said us, Julie, us.”

  She shut the door.

  This is going nowhere fast. Ethan got up and changed his clothes.

  “Are you going to leave your dress and slip in the middle of the floor?” he asked his wife when she emerged from the bathroom.

  Julie picked up her clothes and dropped them on the bedside rocking chair. “Happy?” She crawled into bed with one eye on Ethan.

  “Julie, I’m not the bad guy here.” Ethan draped his shirt over a hanger.

  “Too bad you’ll never pass on your neat-freak genes to some poor unsuspecting child.”

  “Too bad you won’t be able to create another slob.” As soon as he spoke the words, Ethan regretted them.

  “Jules, I’m sorry.” But it was too late. She’d burrowed under the covers.

  ❧

  Julie woke with a start, shivering. For a moment or two, she felt lost in the cold darkness, unable to discern her surroundings. Her head and eyes ached. Squinting, she read the time from the bedside clock.

  Two o’clock in the morning.

  Then, like waking up from a peaceful sleep into a nightmare, she remembered the night before. Dinner at Italian Hills. Elizabeth and Kavan having a baby. The horrid exchange with Ethan. And the tears, the river of tears. She was so weary of tears.

  She scooted toward Ethan’s side of the bed, her hand outstretched. But the sheets and pillow were cold and empty.

  “Eth?”

  No response.

  She called again, louder. “Ethan?”

  Tossing the blankets aside, Julie scurried to the bathroom for her robe. A wintry chill hovered in the room.

  She eased down the stairs and made her way through the apartment by the dim glow of light that filtered through the drawn verticals. Pausing briefly, she peered out to see it snowing again.

  “Ethan?” She peeked around the den door. Ethan lay curled a
nd cold on the short sofa. “Oh, babe—”

  Fumbling for the closet door, Julie patted around the shelves for a spare blanket. From its scent, she could tell it was the one they used for fall picnics in Milo Park.

  She buried her face in the blanket and tried to remember the last time they’d actually picnicked together. Two years ago?

  Spreading the cover over her husband now, Julie thought it odd, yet wonderful, that the old blanket still carried the fragrance of Saturday afternoons in the park.

  Shivering, she wriggled onto the edge of the couch, fitting next to Ethan. He stirred and scooted over to make room for her. Curling his arm around her waist, he kissed her softly on the nape of her neck.

  In a moment or two, Julie drifted to sleep, Ethan’s warmth melting away the chill of the night.

  ❧

  Friday night, Ethan parked along the curb of Wiltshire Street beneath the bright lights of the Hanover home. He turned to Julie. “Let’s miss this one.”

  “We’d never hear the end of it.” She pulled on her door handle.

  “A hundred of their soirees and you’d think we’d get a reprieve from one.” Ethan caught her hand. “Say the word, and we leave.”

  “You say that every time.” She cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand.

  “I mean it every time.”

  Snow crunched under his feet as he stepped out of the car into the orange glow of the streetlights. Ethan followed the lights’ hue to the edge of the driveway where Julie waited.

  Without a word, she started up the steep drive, but Ethan stopped her with his touch on her coat sleeve. “Wait, Julie.”

  When she faced him, his heartbeat echoed in his ears. “You look amazing tonight.”

  Her smile challenged the moon’s glow. “Thank you.”

  He brushed her coat sleeve with his hand. “Let’s phone in our apology and go eat pizza. We can get a corner in the back, talk, kiss.”

  She smoothed her hand over his chest. “Give it a rest, Ethan. This routine is getting old.”

  “This routine is getting old.” He motioned toward the Hanover’s triple-story home, then drew her to him. Her scent made him think of beauty and kindness. “Think about it, Jules. Snobby society people, your mom suggesting you change your hair, your dad introducing you to violin players.” He made a face.