Childless: A Novel by James Dobson, Kurt Bruner

sighed. “You’re right, of course,” he heard himself say. Then he cursed silently.
    Renee beamed. “You mean it?”
    He shrugged.
    She tugged him off the desk, kissing him again.
    Tyler glanced around the still-disorganized room. “I guess we should finish getting this room in order.”
    “Later,” Renee said. “I’ve got a surprise for you first.”
    *  *  *
    He tried to like it. Or rather, he tried pretending to like it, but it was no use. Leeks and asparagus hardly made for a hearty dinner. Where was the meat? Where was the protein? This meal quite possibly ranked as the worst ever.
    “So, you mentioned good news,” Renee said over dessert: apple slices with honey and cinnamon.
    “I did?”
    “On the phone.”
    “Oh, right.” He gladly set down his fork, shoving away his plate. “A new client.”
    Renee reached across the table with her fork and stabbed one of his apple pieces. “Another rich and jealous lover?”
    He took a sip of wine, shaking his head. “No, no. Not like that. This one’s different. Kind of a big deal, actually. Should be interesting. A bit of a mystery.”
    “Mystery sounds good.”
    “It is. Only…I don’t know. My client doesn’t want the police involved, and I’m a little uneasy.”
    “Police? Sounds serious.”
    “It is. I’ll probably stop by to see what Smitty thinks…just in case.”
    His eyes landed on a frame on the mantel cycling through a series of pictures. He saw himself standing proudly alongside his old partner, both dressed to the hilt in their formal uniforms. Tyler hated that picture—a constant reminder of the life he’d traded away. But Renee loved it because, in her words, it made him look “hot,” whatever that meant in reference to an almost-fifty-year-old guy. The rest of the photos held far less significance.
    Standing with Renee at some ski lodge.
    A solo shot of Renee making a cheesy smile, holding up a fish she’d caught during a tent camping trip they took together when they first met.
    Then came Renee’s family. Her father, his head mottled with age. Her mother, fragile and lean. Tyler had never really known his own father, and his mother had died before reaching such an advanced age. Ambushed at fifty-four by pancreatic cancer.
    “So, when are they coming?” he asked, still staring at the picture frame.
    “Hmm,” Renee mumbled while finishing the last bite of apple off his plate. She swallowed hard. “Well, as soon as possible. Tomorrow would be good, but…”
    She hesitated.
    “But what?”
    “Well. You know how much I hate the drive through the mountains alone and—”
    “Renee,” he said warily. “You do remember that I have work to do, right?”
    “I know, I know. But…it will only take a few hours. Can’t you come with me?”
    Tyler felt anger in his throat as the afterglow of their earlier romp dwindled back to annoyance. Renee seemed eager to fit Tyler into the mold of her father, a man who had spent forty-some years of marriage doing anything his wife asked at the drop of a hat and sacrificing his dreams and desires for an existence Tyler would have found smothering. He told himself he had no intention of spending his life catering to the whims of a needy woman and, God forbid, potential kids.
    He looked back toward Renee’s relatively youthful face smiling beside his own from the picture frame. Would she end up as gaunt and decrepit as her mother? Would he end up like her father, sidelined by life with no real reputation to speak of or even hobbies to enjoy? Would he be stuck eating leeks and asparagus for the rest of his life?
    “I…don’t want to.”
    “Oh.” Renee cast her gaze downward, then grabbed the dishes from the table and started toward the kitchen. “I understand. You’re busy. I’m sorry to bring it up. I can manage. Somehow.”
    “Renee, don’t be like that. I just got this case. It’s important.”
    The dishes clattered into the sink. “No, really. I get it. Sometimes things are