Read Online A Perfect Marriage by Laurey Bright - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laurey Bright
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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progress from one stage to the other?"
"Maybe. I don't know, though. We'd need to go into what's involved. And I don't want him to feel we're pushing him into anything:'
"Well, if you think it's best, of course he can stay . .. for a while. You're not seeing it as a permanent solution, are you?"
Celine shook her head. "Not if you wouldn't like it." "I wouldn't!"
She looked away from him, and wiped her hands on a paper towel.
"Look," he said, going to her and touching her shoulder, "I'm sorry, I know he's your dad. But I just don't think it would work."
"I thought you liked him."
"Of course I like him! It isn't that. But-1 guess I'm used to just the two of us being in the house. I find it a bit ... unsettling."
She turned her head to give him a pained smile. "It's just as well we don't have children, then, isn't it?"
"You know that would be quite different!"
Celine shrugged. "Anyway, half the time you're working late, and even when you are here, most nights you're shut away in your study. It's not as though we're together that much."
Nettled, he retorted, "Well, you know, when I'm home you're just as likely to be out at your bridge or badminton, or your night class or your book club. Although I notice you've stayed around for your father more than usual."
Celine threw down the crumpled paper towel on the bench. "What am I supposed to do, wait around every night twiddling my thumbs in case you come home and want my company? I thought you were pleased that I had interests of my own. You said so!"
"That was years ago, when I was still a struggling junior partner." He had been at least relieved that Celine was self sufficient enough to find plenty to do when he was busy forging his career. "We ought to have more time for each other now," he said.
"I see. Now that you have time for me, I'm supposed to give up my own interests to cater to your whims!"
"I don't mean that!" Max flushed angrily.
"What do you mean, then?" Her chin was thrust forward, her eyes bright with annoyance.
He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, controlling his temper. "We seem to have lost the point," he said finally. "Of course your father's welcome to stay as long as he needs to. But not forever, I'm sorry."
Celine swallowed her own anger. "Thank you. I understand. You're entitled to say how you feel."
Offering an olive branch, he said, "Would you like me to set the table?" They had been eating most meals in the dining room since Ted had been with them, because the cosy kitchen table was only big enough for two to sit there in comfort.
"Thanks, I've already done it." Celine picked up the basket of lettuce and shook it over the sink. "You go on up and get changed. Dinner will be about twenty minutes."
I suppose, Max thought, resigned, I can buy another newspaper to bring home.
Max and Celine spent a weekend helping Ted to pack up the furniture and effects that he wanted to keep. Some went into storage, and Celine and Ted stayed to dispose of the rest. Dora's family took charge of her personal belongings and clothes.
When they returned after emptying the house and leaving it in the hands of an estate agent, Ted looked gaunt and grim, and Max felt intensely sorry for him. "It's really taken it out of the poor old fellow," he said to Celine.
"Yes. It's been hard for him." She put her hands on her back at the waist and flexed her shoulders.
"Are you all right?" It hadn't been exactly easy for her, either, Max thought.
"Mmm, just a bit stiff." She'd spent days packing things into labelled boxes and clearing cupboards and drawers, not to mention the final clean-up.
He came to stand behind her, massaging her shoulders. "Better?" he asked after a while.
"A bit. Thanks." She stretched and said, "I think I'll have a nice, long, hot soak and go to bed." "Good idea. I'll see you later."
She smiled at him and went on upstairs.
Her hair felt dusty and gritty, and she fancied it smelled of the sulphur that permeated the air of
"Maybe. I don't know, though. We'd need to go into what's involved. And I don't want him to feel we're pushing him into anything:'
"Well, if you think it's best, of course he can stay . .. for a while. You're not seeing it as a permanent solution, are you?"
Celine shook her head. "Not if you wouldn't like it." "I wouldn't!"
She looked away from him, and wiped her hands on a paper towel.
"Look," he said, going to her and touching her shoulder, "I'm sorry, I know he's your dad. But I just don't think it would work."
"I thought you liked him."
"Of course I like him! It isn't that. But-1 guess I'm used to just the two of us being in the house. I find it a bit ... unsettling."
She turned her head to give him a pained smile. "It's just as well we don't have children, then, isn't it?"
"You know that would be quite different!"
Celine shrugged. "Anyway, half the time you're working late, and even when you are here, most nights you're shut away in your study. It's not as though we're together that much."
Nettled, he retorted, "Well, you know, when I'm home you're just as likely to be out at your bridge or badminton, or your night class or your book club. Although I notice you've stayed around for your father more than usual."
Celine threw down the crumpled paper towel on the bench. "What am I supposed to do, wait around every night twiddling my thumbs in case you come home and want my company? I thought you were pleased that I had interests of my own. You said so!"
"That was years ago, when I was still a struggling junior partner." He had been at least relieved that Celine was self sufficient enough to find plenty to do when he was busy forging his career. "We ought to have more time for each other now," he said.
"I see. Now that you have time for me, I'm supposed to give up my own interests to cater to your whims!"
"I don't mean that!" Max flushed angrily.
"What do you mean, then?" Her chin was thrust forward, her eyes bright with annoyance.
He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, controlling his temper. "We seem to have lost the point," he said finally. "Of course your father's welcome to stay as long as he needs to. But not forever, I'm sorry."
Celine swallowed her own anger. "Thank you. I understand. You're entitled to say how you feel."
Offering an olive branch, he said, "Would you like me to set the table?" They had been eating most meals in the dining room since Ted had been with them, because the cosy kitchen table was only big enough for two to sit there in comfort.
"Thanks, I've already done it." Celine picked up the basket of lettuce and shook it over the sink. "You go on up and get changed. Dinner will be about twenty minutes."
I suppose, Max thought, resigned, I can buy another newspaper to bring home.
Max and Celine spent a weekend helping Ted to pack up the furniture and effects that he wanted to keep. Some went into storage, and Celine and Ted stayed to dispose of the rest. Dora's family took charge of her personal belongings and clothes.
When they returned after emptying the house and leaving it in the hands of an estate agent, Ted looked gaunt and grim, and Max felt intensely sorry for him. "It's really taken it out of the poor old fellow," he said to Celine.
"Yes. It's been hard for him." She put her hands on her back at the waist and flexed her shoulders.
"Are you all right?" It hadn't been exactly easy for her, either, Max thought.
"Mmm, just a bit stiff." She'd spent days packing things into labelled boxes and clearing cupboards and drawers, not to mention the final clean-up.
He came to stand behind her, massaging her shoulders. "Better?" he asked after a while.
"A bit. Thanks." She stretched and said, "I think I'll have a nice, long, hot soak and go to bed." "Good idea. I'll see you later."
She smiled at him and went on upstairs.
Her hair felt dusty and gritty, and she fancied it smelled of the sulphur that permeated the air of
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