Maid for the South Pole

Part 7

SEVEN

Jean climbed stiffly out of the taxi. Long flights had taken their toll on his body. He took care not to favour either leg as he shouldered his backpack and wheeled his duffle up the driveway to his house. The lawn looked like it was overdue for a mow – he'd take care of that tomorrow, once Dairine let him out of bed.

He dug his keys out and unlocked the door, grateful that the landlord hadn't changed the locks while he was away. He'd done that once while Jean was meeting with his research supervisor in Seattle, and he'd had to sit on the porch all day, waiting for Dairine's shift to finish so she could come home and let him in.

The smell of cooking hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd forgotten how good Dairine was in the kitchen. That smell meant she was home. A grin lit his face as he headed for the kitchen.

"You're home early," Dairine said over her shoulder as she stirred something on the stove.

"I thought I'd surprise you," he replied, closing the distance between them so he could kiss her.

Dairine spun on the spot, looking horrified. "J-Jean? What are you doing here?"

Jean stopped short, trying to tell if she was joking or not. "I'm your husband. I live here."

"No, you b****y don't! We're divorced!" she hissed.

Divorced? Jean couldn't seem to make his tongue say the word, and his mouth wouldn't close, either. "Since when?" he said hoarsely.

"Since more than a year ago! I told you if you go to the South Pole, I didn't want to see or hear from you again. You left, so I filed for divorce. I told them to send your copy to the university, seeing as I didn't know where you were."

"But I thought you wanted...children. You and me, we were going to start a family. Every day I was in Antarctica, I was counting down the days until I could come home to you." Jean stared at her in anguish. "I promised to give you a baby."

His gaze dropped to her belly, always so flat in his memory. It was anything but flat now. She looked like she'd swallowed a weather balloon.

"Is that...are you...whose is...when's it due?" He couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence while his heart crunched into fragments inside his chest.

"Ed and I are having twins, and they're due next month, if my obstetrician doesn't insist on delivering them early," Dairine said reluctantly.

Edward. That pasty-faced IT guy in her office who looked like he'd never spent five minutes outside in the sun in his life. Jean had seen Ed eyeing Dairine off at work parties, but Dairine had never taken any notice of him.

"Did he get you drunk at the work party, and that's when you slept with him? Is he going to be around to help you when they're born, or are you going to be a single mother with twins?" Jean bit out.

Dairine's hand delivered a stinging slap to his cheek. "Don't you talk about my husband like that! We celebrated out first anniversary a few weeks ago, Ed and me. He's everything a husband should be. He comes home at night. Takes care of me. And he's giving me a family, something you never managed to do."

Guilty as charged, but there were extenuating circumstances. "I was away so we could build a future together, once I got back. I'm here now, Dairine. Please don't do this."

"I already have," she said tartly. "Get out, Jean. You shouldn't be here. If you're looking for your stuff, I sent it back east to your folks' place. There's nothing for you here." Her expression told him what her words couldn't: there truly was nothing for him here.

Without another word, Jean turned on his heel and strode out of the house. It wasn't home any more.