Big Girls Don’t Cry (Dundee, Idaho #6)(41)
Author: Brenda Novak

While waiting for his reply, she paced the kitchen, her mind racing. How would Isaac answer her? Would he tell her that Keith was calling Liz? That Keith was still lying to her?

A moment later, a box appeared on the screen from [email protected]. Isaac wanted to instant message.

She froze in front of her computer but didn’t sit down. An IM made the conversation more immediate. Did she really want to “talk” to Isaac Russell? A few e-mails were one thing. Active back-and-forth communication was another. Responding to him might encourage further participation in her life. And she couldn’t tolerate that.

But what if Keith was playing her for a fool? Again.

Perching on the edge of her seat, she continued to stare at the invitation. Maybe Elizabeth had kicked Keith out. Maybe he’d had nowhere to go and that was why he’d returned to Dundee so quickly.

Reenie shook her head. The important thing was that Keith and Liz had split. Did she really want to know if the situation was exactly as Keith had represented it? She was thinking of reconciling with him, of trying again for the sake of her girls.

Isaac could easily tell her something that would blow that to hell and back. Maybe that was what he intended to do.

On the other hand, how could she be thinking of getting back with Keith and not know the full truth?

The insidious doubt she felt edged closer, making her angry. She wanted to overcome the suspicion, to trust again. But it was no use; she couldn’t.

“Damn,” she muttered and clicked Yes on the screen.

Isaac’s first sentence appeared. What are you doing up so late?

Thinking I must be crazy to accept this message, she typed.

Why?

I’m trying to forget that you and your sister exist.

Classic denial?

Why not?

Funny…you struck me as a realist.

Ah, he’d already hit upon one of her biggest problems. She was a realist. But she was also a romantic. And the two sides of her couldn’t find common ground when it came to Keith’s betrayal. I’m surprised I didn’t strike you as an idiot, she wrote.

Why?

You have to ask?

You trusted the one man in your life you should’ve been able to trust.

For some reason, she didn’t want Liz’s brother, of all people, to be so sympathetic. Don’t be nice to me, she wrote.

Is that a typo?

No.

Didn’t think so. There was a long pause. What’s the matter? Afraid you might be tempted to like me?

It was her turn to hesitate. No, of course not, she thought. Well…maybe. She’d enjoyed having dinner with him. It wasn’t until she found out who he was that she’d crossed him off her list of possible friends. Not beyond my ability to resist, she responded.

I’m an innocent bystander, remember?

We’re on opposite teams, remember?

Keith’s fault. Not mine.

So why are you e-mailing me? she typed. Are you on some kind of recon mission for your sister?

No.

She waited, but he didn’t qualify or explain. Hello?

Just wondering…

What?

Whether you took Keith back.

She tapped her lip as she read his response. So you can help your sister plan her next move?

Not necessarily. But if she asked me…

You’d tell her.

Probably. I’m her brother.

Reenie couldn’t fault him for his response. At least he was being straightforward with her. You really think your sister’s special.

Yes.

That was quick…Is she very pretty?

Reenie cursed herself the second she’d sent that response. But curiosity about the woman who’d borne Keith two children had been eating at her ever since she’d learned the truth. What had her husband seen in Liz? Was she so beautiful that he couldn’t help himself? So incredibly sweet and good that he was drawn to her despite the fact that he had a family?

Reenie knew she was searching for a way to excuse what Keith had done. If Liz was irresistible, maybe Keith wasn’t totally responsible. Any man would have done the same.

Very, came his answer.

Does she look like you?

A little.

Then she was probably pretty indeed. Certainly Isaac was more handsome than most men.

Jealousy hit hard, momentarily overriding Reenie’s curiosity, doubt, fear, everything else. Closing her eyes, she shook her head, fighting to tamp down the hatefulness it evoked.

She was stupid to make herself so vulnerable, she decided. She needed to remain calm, make good decisions, hold herself together for her children. She did not need to talk to Isaac Russell.

Opening her eyes so she could sign off, she saw that he’d already written something else, something that gave her pause: But she’s no prettier than you.

A moment earlier, she’d thought he might be trying to hurt her, to strengthen his sister’s hand by ruining her self-confidence. But if that were the case, why would he pay her such a compliment?

You’re being nice again, she accused, still trying to figure him out.

Not really. You’re beautiful—not easy to like. <G>

She laughed in spite of herself. The kind of news you gave me tends to bring out the worst in a person.

Agreed.

I’m usually very likable.

We’ll see…

Apprehension swept down Reenie’s spine. What’s that supposed to mean?

Did you get back with Keith? he asked.

Isaac knew something she didn’t; she could tell. Why? Is he calling Liz, too, trying to convince her to forgive him?

My question first.

So he wanted to trade. Fine. It was no secret that Keith wasn’t living at home. We’re not together.

Is it over, then?

She thought of the divorce papers, which were probably already in the mail; she also thought of her promise to try counseling. Maybe.

Fortunately, he didn’t press her for a more definitive answer, because she couldn’t give him one.

Your turn, she prompted.

He hasn’t called Liz.

At all?

Not once.

Then…I’m confused. What’s up?

Nothing. I’ve gotta go—dead tired. See you around, he said, and signed off.

Reenie frowned at the log box that contained the last of their conversation. “See you around” as in “take it easy”? Or “see you around” as in “see you someday soon”?

A LIGHT LAYER OF SNOW had fallen during the night. When Reenie drove the kids to school, the roads were slushy, the fields covered with a thin, white veil. She huddled into her thick sweatshirt while waiting for the heater to warm the chilly van.