Unfinished Business

a quick flip-flop when she saw him. It always did. But she didn’t smile. Neither did he.
    “Oh. I didn’t hear you come in.”
    “I’m not surprised.” He reached down to pick up Lara and give her a quick swing. “What are you doing?”

    “Baby-sitting.” She rubbed more flour on her nose. “Joanie had to go into town, so I volunteered to watch Lara for a couple of hours.”
    “She’s a handful, isn’t she?”
    Vanessa blew out a weary breath. She couldn’t bear to think about the mess they had left in the living room. “She likes it in here.”
    He set the baby down, gave her padded bottom a light pat and sent her off to play with a small tower of canned goods. “Wait until she figures out how to rip the labels off. Got anything to drink?”
    “Lara’s got a bottle of apple juice.”
    “I wouldn’t want to deprive her.”
    “There’s a can of lemonade in the freezer.” She went back to chopping celery. “If you want it, you’ll have to make it yourself. My hands are full.”
    “So I see.” He opened the freezer. “What are you making?”
    “A mess.” She brought the knife down with a thunk. “I thought since my mother and Ham were due back soon it would be nice to have a casserole or something. Joanie’s already done so much, I wanted to try to—” She set the knife down in disgust. “I’m no good at this. I’m just no good at it. I’ve never cooked a meal in my life.” She whirled as Brady came to the sink to run cold water into a pitcher. “I’m a grown woman, and if it wasn’t for room service and prepackaged meals I’d starve to death.”
    “You make a great ham sandwich.”
    “I’m not joking, Brady.”
    With a wooden spoon, he began to stir the lemonade. “Maybe you should be.”
    “I came in here thinking I’d try to put myself into this little fantasy. What if I were a doctor’s wife?”

    He stopped stirring to look at her. “What if you were?”
    “What if he were coming home after taking appointments and doing hospital rounds all day? Wouldn’t I want to fix him a meal, something we could sit down to together, something we could talk over? Isn’t that something he would want? Expect?”
    “Why don’t you ask him?”
    “Damn it, Brady, don’t you see? I couldn’t make it work.”
    “All I see is that you’re having trouble putting—” He leaned forward to look at the disarray on the counter. “What is this?”
    Her mouth moved into a pout. “It’s supposed to be a tuna casserole.”
    “You’re having trouble putting a tuna casserole together. And, personally, I hope you never learn how to do it.”
    “That’s not the point.”
    Struck by tenderness, he brushed at a streak of flour on her cheek. “What is the point?”
    “It’s a little thing, maybe even a stupid thing. But if I can’t even do this—” she shoved and sent an onion scampering down the counter “—how can I work out the bigger ones?”
    “Do you think I want to marry you so that I can have a hot meal every night?”
    “No. Do you think I want to marry you and feel inept and useless?”
    Truly exasperated, he gestured toward the counter. “Because you don’t know what to do with a can of tuna?”
    “Because I don’t know how to be a wife.” When her voice rose, she struggled to calm it. Perhaps Lara was too young, and too interested in her pans and cans, to detect an argument, but Vanessa had lived through too many of her own. “And, as much as I care for you, I don’t know if I want to be. There’s one thing I do well, Brady, and that’s my music.”
    “No one’s asking you to give that up, Van.”

    “And when I go on tour? When I’m gone weeks at a time, when I have to devote endless hours to rehearsals and practicing? What kind of marriage would we have, Brady, in between performances?”
    “I don’t know.” He looked down at his niece, who was contentedly placing cans inside of pots. “I didn’t know you were seriously considering going on tour again.”
    “I have to consider it. It’s been a part of my life for too long not to.” Calmer now, she went back to dicing vegetables. “I’m a musician, Brady, the same way you’re a doctor. What I do doesn’t save lives, but it does enrich them.”
    He pushed an impatient hand through his dark hair. He was in the business of soothing doubts and fears, as much as he was in the business of healing bodies. Why couldn’t he soothe Vanessa’s?
    “I know what you do is important, Van. I admire