Free Contingency (Covenant of Trust) by Paula Wiseman

divorce you,” he called after her. “You’re being dramatic to make a point.”
    She whipped around and they stood inches apart in the narrow hallway. “And you’re being a patronizing jerk. Again.”
    “ You’re only hearing the ‘no’.”
    “ The no? You’re not going to ‘let’ me stay home? You’re going to drag me to work?”
    “ Just stop for five seconds. You’re not listening to the reason behind it. I want the best, the very best for you ...”
    “ No, Chuck, you want to do things your way.” She jabbed at him, almost touching his chest. “If it’d been your idea for me to stay home, it would’ve been the greatest solution to childcare this century.”
    “ That’s not true!”
    “ Did your mother stay home?”
    “ Yes, but ...”
    “ Then why are you bucking this? Your mother is extremely gifted. Why was she not a failure for staying home?”
    “ I did not say you’d be a failure.” He took a deep breath and dropped his head. You can’t negotiate when emotions take over. He had to be calm. He had to be the rational one. “Bobbi, Mom’s situation is different. She lost two babies before I was born, and another one after me. It messed with her, I think.”
    “ Then you should be able to grasp where I’m coming from.” She’d quit yelling at him. His way worked. “I lost my mother when I was twelve, and I may as well have lost my dad then, too. I don’t want my son to grow up without me.”
    He drew her close, as close as her belly would allow, and kissed her. He wouldn’t push it today, but this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
     
     
     
     

Confrontation
     
    Saturday, July 30
     
    Bobbi punched in numbers on her calculator, double-checking the checkbook entries. Since the clock in the study slid past noon, she battled to stay focused on paying bills and budgeting for August. She regretted not giving Chuck a definite time to show up. He could come any minute now, or not at all.
    She reached for her mug and finished her fourth cup of the strong Turkish coffee she brewed this morning. The caffeine hadn’t bothered her for years and the warmth always soothed and relaxed her.
    Pushing the empty mug out of the way, she pulled the payment book for Chuck’s BMW from her stack. She hated that car. Things hadn’t been the same between them since he bought it. Was Chuck cheating then? Did Tracy have a thing for BMWs? If she was the reason he bought the car, was he also buying her things? God, please tell me I haven’t spent eighteen years managing our finances so Chuck could keep a mistress.
    She made a couple of changes to the budget sheet and recalculated. The house would be paid off next summer, but if they divorced ... If she started shifting more money there now, that might be enough to pay off the mortgage by the time everything was finalized.
    The doorbell rang. Bobbi caught sight of Chuck’s car in the driveway. He’s here. God help us all.
    *******
    Chuck stood on his own front porch wavering between walking in or ringing the doorbell. Starting the meeting well was critical. No, this was his wife—it was a conversation, not a meeting. Even so, if he lost his temper the way he did Thursday night, he stood a zero chance of reconciling with Bobbi. She wanted to talk, so let her run things, and that meant not assuming any rights. He wiped his palm on his slacks and rang the bell.
    Joel opened the front door and broke into a huge grin. He threw his arms around Chuck and squeezed. “I love you, Dad.”
    Chuck kissed the top of the boy’s head. “I love you, too. I needed to hear that.”
    “Mom’s in the kitchen, but Brad doesn’t want to talk to you,” Joel said as he passed his dad to go outside.
    “You’re not going to stick around?”
    “I don’t want to hear you yell.”
    “Who said we were going to yell? Mom didn’t say that, did she?”
    “No, Brad did.”
    “Well, Brad’s wrong.”
    “What else is new?” Joel grabbed his bike and pedaled