A Marriage Takes Two by Janet Lane-Walters Page B

he’d hoped to see. If Carrie and Chad became pals, what he had to tell his son would be easier, unless he couldn’t convince Carrie to stay. “Time to hit the bed.”
    “Okay.” Chad charged upstairs.
    Tony reached for Carrie and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks.”
    She stiffened and he released her. That wasn’t the message she’d meant to convey, but the embrace had startled her.
    “We had a good time for tonight, but I’m exhausted,” she said.
    “No painting, right?”
    “You’ve got that straight. I’d forgotten how much energy kids have, and how fast they move. Not to mention, I finished the foyer, taped in the...library and did the windows.” She failed to mention the wall she’d painted in the room she’d chosen.
    “Chad’s more energetic than most kids. I’m free for whatever you want to do tomorrow.”
    She wished that was the truth. “Guess we’ll do my room.”
    “Haven’t you started there yet?”
    “Hey, I’m not superwoman. If it’s not finished, I’ll stay in the guest room. On Thursday, I’ll finish in the library. Chad helped with the windows.”
    “Without making a mess?”
    “Oh ye of little faith.” She laughed. “Actually, the floor needed to be mopped. It’s ready to wax.”
    “When?”
    “Thursday.”
    “By the end of the week, you won’t be able to move.”
    “You’re right, but think of how great the house is beginning to look.”
    He nodded in agreement. Since buying the house, the only room to see changes had been the kitchen. Hazel had insisted on new cabinets, appliances, floor, and wall coverings.
    “You’re right, but this is a big house. You can’t do everything in a month.”
    “I’m going to try...Oh, before Chad gets in bed, I have to measure him.”
    Tony frowned. Somewhere during the conversation, he’d missed something subtle and important. He couldn’t ask. She’d always been like a bulldog guarding a bone when it came to keeping a secret. He followed her upstairs. Was that paint he smelled?  He shrugged and decided it was from the foyer.
     
    * * *
     
    On Wednesday, she and Tony painted the room she wouldn’t be using, and finished painting in the library. By Thursday afternoon, and her stint in the room she planned to use, she thought her shoulder muscles had been permanently damaged, but all was in order.
    Friday morning, she left the house at sunrise, and drove to the apartment to let the movers in. Then she ran down the street to the surgical supply house. There, she bought stockinet to use at the elbows and knees of Chad’s costume. Once the furniture and boxes had been loaded, she grabbed the stack of accumulated mail and headed for West Virginia.
    By two thirty, the last of her possessions had been placed in the rooms she’d chosen. She stood in her bedroom and hoped her choice would tell Tony of her intentions without the need for words that would sound too much like a plea. What had gone wrong between them? Their ease of conversation had vanished at the altar.
    She walked downstairs and entered the library. The sheer curtains from the apartment’s living room allowed the afternoon sunlight to brighten the space. Boxes littered the gleaming oak floor. She opened one of the boxes.
    “Carrie,” Chad called.
    “In here.” She rose. “Your snack’s on the table. Do your homework and then we’ll make your costume.”
    “Don’t have homework. Never on the weekend.”
    He waited at the door for her. “This looks nice with your furniture. What a big television...You need a costume, too.”
    “Why?”
    “Even big people have to wear them, but they can’t win a prize. I want you to come.”
    “Are you sure? I could stay home and unpack.”
    “Don’t you want to be with Dad and me?”
    “I do, but I already ruined your Wednesday when your dad stayed home to paint.”
    “That was okay. Maybe he’ll take me somewhere tonight.” Sadness filled his eyes. “Mom never wanted to be with Dad and me. She liked to go to big