Paul, she suspected, already knew that about her. And somehow, spending time with him had given her the chance to realize it as well.
But this weekend wasn’t simply about recognizing the mistakes she’d made in the past. It also had to do with the future and how she would live from this point on. Her past was played out; there was nothing she could do about that, but the future was still up for grabs, and she didn’t want to live the rest of her life feeling the way she had for the last three years.
She shaved her legs and soaked in the tub for another few minutes, long enough for most of the suds to vanish and the water to start cooling. She dried off and—knowing that Jean wouldn’t mind—reached for the lotion on the counter. She applied some to her legs and belly, then her breasts and arms, relishing the way it made her skin come to life.
Wrapping the towel around her, she went to her suitcase. Force of habit made her reach for jeans and a sweater, but after pulling them out, she set them aside. If I’m serious about changing the way I’m going to live, she thought, I may as well start now.
She hadn’t brought much else with her, certainly nothing fancy, but she did have a pair of black pants and a white blouse that Amanda had bought her for Christmas. She’d brought those along in the vague hope that she might head out one evening, and though she wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed as good a time as any to put them on.
She dried her hair with a blow dryer and curled it. Makeup came next: mascara and a dusting of blush, lipstick she’d bought at Belk’s a few months back but had seldom used. Leaning toward the mirror, she added a trace of eye shadow, just enough to accent the color of her eyes, as she’d done in the early years of her marriage.
When she was ready, she tugged at the blouse until it hung just right, smiling at what she saw. It had been far too long since she’d last looked like this.
She left the bedroom, and as she passed through the kitchen, she could smell the coffee. It was what she would normally drink on a day like this, especially since it was still the afternoon, but instead of pouring a cup, she retrieved the last bottle of wine in the refrigerator, then grabbed the corkscrew and a couple of glasses, feeling worldly, as if she were finally in control.
Carrying it all to the sitting room, she saw that Paul had started the fire, and it had somehow changed the room, as if anticipating the way she was feeling. Paul’s face was glowing in the flames, and though she was quiet, she knew he could sense her presence. He turned around to say something, but when he saw Adrienne, no words came out of his mouth. All he could do was stare at her.
“Too much?” she finally asked.
Paul shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “No… not at all. You look… beautiful.”
Adrienne gave a shy smile. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, a voice from long ago.
They continued to stare at each other until Adrienne finally lifted the bottle slightly. “Would you like some wine?” she asked. “I know you have coffee, but with the storm, I thought it might be nice.”
Paul cleared his throat. “That sounds great. Would you like me to open the bottle?”
“Unless you like bits of cork in your wine, you’d better. I never did get the hang of those things.”
When Paul rose from his chair, she handed the corkscrew to him. He opened the bottle with a series of quick movements, and Adrienne held both glasses as he poured. He set the bottle on the table and took his glass as they sat in the rockers. She noticed they were closer together than they had been the day before.
Adrienne took a sip of wine, then lowered the glass, pleased with everything: the way she looked and felt, the taste of the wine, the room itself. The flickering fire made shadows dance around them. Rain was sheeting itself against the walls.
“This is lovely,” she said. “I’m glad you made a fire.”
In the warming air, Paul caught a trace of the perfume she was wearing, and he shifted in his chair. “I was still cold after being outside,” he said. “It seems to take a little longer every year for me to warm up.”
“Even with all that exercise? And here I thought you were holding back the ravages of time.”
He laughed softly. “I wish.”
“You seem to be doing okay.”
“You don’t see me in the mornings.”
“But don’t you run then?”
“Before that, I mean. When I first get out of bed, I can barely move. I hobble like an old man. All that running has taken its toll over the years.”
As they moved their rockers back and forth, he could see the reflection of the fire flickering in her eyes.
“Have you heard from your kids today?” he asked, trying not to stare at Adrienne too obviously.
She nodded. “They called this morning while you were out. They’re getting ready for their ski trip, but wanted to touch base before they go. They’re heading to Snowshoe, West Virginia, this weekend. They’ve been looking forward to that for a couple of months now.”
“Sounds like they’ll have fun.”
“Yeah, Jack’s good for that. Whenever they go to visit, he always has fun things planned, as if life with him would be nothing but one big party.” She paused. “But that’s okay. He’s missing out on a lot of things, too, and I wouldn’t trade places with him. You can’t get these years back.”
“I know,” he murmured. “Believe me, I know.”
She winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that….”