The Sidelined Wife (More Than a Wife Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Peel

  “I like that. I like that a lot, Samantha Decker.”

  I found that I like him a lot, too.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  My mind mulled over what we could do together the following Saturday. Reed was already requesting that we grocery shop again on Monday. He proposed it be a weekly activity, which meant I would see him Mondays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. We couldn’t do more than acknowledge each other at the football games and Sunday dinners. But there was something comforting to his presence all the same. He made me feel less alone, wanted, even. That gaping hole left by Neil didn’t seem unfillable now. It wasn’t just Reed, though. It was me. I was finding myself among the ruin.

  I wanted the date I was planning with Reed to reflect me. The me I had forgotten for so long. I wanted to be the sweet girl he remembered from forever ago and the woman he saw now. Because he saw me the way I wanted to see me. In his eyes, I was witty and capable, strong but soft, and beautiful. It was as if he didn’t see the emerging crow’s feet or the gray strand or two that were peeking through—my hair appointment was later this week to remedy the annoying matter. Granted, he didn’t know I had cellulite on my upper thighs, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t hold it against me, even if he did know. I should probably mention it to him, just in case. I hadn’t reached dimple level yet, but let’s be real, someday it would happen. I was trying to delay it with the help of Billy Blanks, but gravity was not my friend.

  Reed was a good reminder that I needed more fun in my life. It had been an aspect of my life long absent. And he was correct, we had no idea how long this would last, and we should enjoy it. I was sure he would move on someday soon. It was inevitable. Avery was right, I would probably end up with some professor, or maybe alone. I was becoming more okay with the latter prospect. The more I liked myself, the easier that thought became. Don’t get me wrong, I was loving the affection and someone to talk to. Not that I hadn’t had people to talk to before, but when there was a romantic aspect to your relationship, it added something to conversations. There was a connection there that couldn’t be duplicated in familial or platonic relationships.

  On Monday, while we grocery shopped near but far from each other, we conversed on the phone. I wanted his opinion on a proposal that had come my way earlier in the day from a woman who had found my blog and was apparently a fan.

  “What was the name of the organization again?” he asked.

  “Clearfield Women’s League.”

  “You’re a woman, that makes sense.”

  I clammed up and moved out of the way of the man perusing the cereal near me. I focused on the pancake mix while the guy took his sweet time. Reed disappeared for a minute. What a weird game of cat and mouse we were playing. Once the man left, I spoke again about my dilemma.

  “That’s about as far as I’m qualified. They want me to speak about empowering women and girls. I have no idea what I would say, and I haven’t spoken in front of a group since my sophomore speech class in high school. And if I remember correctly, I felt like puking before each assigned speech. I’m pretty sure I might follow through with that now.”

  Reed reappeared and paused on the opposite side of the cereal aisle from me. Even from afar, I could see his come-kiss-me grin. He had no idea how much I wanted to. I had these urges to make up for lost time. It was a lot of time to make up for, I’ll tell you.

  “Do it, Sam. You’ll be great.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do; you just need to. That’s what you do every time you fire off one of your silver-tongued posts. What did you say this morning? ‘Don’t wait to be taken out of the game. March right off the field, fire the coach, and start making your own calls.’”

  I grabbed a box of some sugar-filled cereal Cody loved while holding the phone to my ear and trying not to grin too much. “Something like that.”

  I had been lamenting this morning on my blog that I hadn’t taken more control of the situation earlier because I was too afraid to admit the truth. Deep down, I knew Neil was being unfaithful before he ever told me. I was too afraid to believe it. But I was learning that it was better to deal with the unpleasant truth than to live a lie. I would have saved myself a lot of heartache in the long run had I dealt with it up front, on my terms, not his. It would have made me the victor instead of the victim.

  “You’re that woman. The only difference is, instead of a keyboard, you have to use that beautiful mouth of yours that I wish was tangled up with mine right now.”

  My blushing self was going to have to head over to the frozen food section. I gave him a quick grin from across the way. “I would be amenable to that.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  I turned my cart around to walk the other way because I was just as tempted.

  “That side is as tempting as the front.”

  Definitely in need of the frozen food aisle. I smiled into my phone.

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “Kiss you? Or speak at the Women’s League luncheon?”

  “Both.”

  “Yes to the kissing, but not tonight. Maybe to speaking.”

  “We need to start shopping in Michigan where no one knows us.” I could hear his cart following behind me.

  “I don’t think I could justify a several-hours-long grocery trip to Cody. Saturday isn’t that far away.”

  “Says you. By the way, what do you have planned?”

  “I have two ideas in mind, depending on the weather and how much time we’ll have. I was thinking we could go apple picking or bike riding. But I would have to get a bike this week, and I’m not sure I’ll have the time.”

  “Why don’t we go pick apples, and afterward we can hit a bike shop— out of town, of course. Then next weekend we’ll take that bike ride. I wouldn’t mind crossing the state line with you again.”

  “Isn’t that homecoming weekend?”

  “Hell, you’re right. This is the downside to clandestining.”

  “Is that a word?” I laughed into my phone.

  “It is now. You know, you could come with me to chaperone the dance if you were willing to date me out in the open.” His tone was testing the waters.

  I paused. “We can’t do that to Cody.” Especially for something that more than likely wouldn’t last.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “I guess we will figure out some other ways to see each other that week.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Me too. Now meet me in the candy aisle.”

  “Craving something sweet?”

  “I’m craving something.”

  “And what’s that?” I knew I was rusty at this dating thing, but I was proud of the flirty comeback.

  “Head to the candy aisle and you’ll find out.”

  I went one direction and he went the other. I was the first one to arrive, and it didn’t take long to find what I was searching for. I stood, at a loss for words, staring at where the prices were listed on the shelves of several different types of candy. Little white notes with red ink were placed near the prices. The first one I noticed was I “mint” to tell you how much I like you.

  Reed appeared with his cart. He was slyly looking at the chips opposite the candy.

  “I like you too,” I whispered in my phone.

  “I had a feeling.”

  Next was the Milky Way candy bars. Nothing could be better than you and me under the Milky Way.

  “When did you do all this?”

  “I can’t reveal my secrets.”

  I was perfectly okay with that.

  My eyes fell on the Hot Tamales. Whether you believe it or not, you are hot. I laughed and put my phone away. I wanted to enjoy this unhindered, and for some reason my phone was a distraction.

  Being with you is better than PayDay.

  I can’t wait until our lips are tangled up like a Twizzler.

  Your kisses are sweeter than Hershey’s.

  I love when my Butterfingers
run through your hair.

  I took each card as I went, intent on keeping them, smiling and trying not to giggle to myself. I could only imagine what I looked like to our fellow shoppers. But I honestly didn’t care what they thought. This was one of the most thoughtful things ever done for me. I found myself saying that each time we were together.

  As indifferently as possible, I glanced his way and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” he mouthed back. In his eyes I could see that it was.

  In my heart I felt it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Wow, sis, you’ve outdone yourself with this pie.” James talked with his mouth half-full. “You need to get this recipe, honey.” He held his fork out with a nice-sized bite of pie on it for Avery. They were sharing a piece. Weirdos were training for another marathon and watching their empty calorie intake.

  Avery took the bite and a dreamy sigh escaped her. “Oh my gosh, I might need a piece of my own.”

  “Are these apples from Baker’s Orchard?” Ma asked. That was the orchard near the office.

  “No.”

  Not sure why, but Ma gave me a shrewd look as if she knew how I had, or should I say, who I had acquired the apples with. “Grocery store?”

  My eyes hit my plate. “No.” Why did it matter?

  “Where, Samantha Marie?”

  Was I in trouble? All eyes were suddenly on me. Everyone was still sitting around the table since the Bears were playing on Monday night. The timing was awful.

  “Weatherby Orchards.” I quickly shoved a bite of pie in my mouth, hoping to deter any more questions.

  I swore I could feel Reed’s glance from down the table. The same Reed who helped pick the apples and kept me warm on the chilly fall day yesterday, with hot chocolate and other means. Means I was beginning to crave.

  I felt sixteen again, wishing I was alone with him right now. I could still feel his warm breath against my neck and the shivers it caused. But that had nothing on the way his lips felt on mine. We spent so long getting lost in each other at the orchard, we didn’t have time to buy a bike. I didn’t regret it one bit. I would do it all over again, from watching Reed from below on the ladder—what a sight it was—to the way he kept pulling me behind the trees to kiss me thoroughly. We are talking pushing me up against the trees, messing up my hair, making me think of things I shouldn’t be kind of kissing. I needed to stop thinking about it now or I was going to have to excuse myself from the table to throw some ice cubes down my sweater.

  But all that had nothing on the easy, no-pressure conversation. He was happy to listen to me gush about Cody and blather on about how stressed I was about my upcoming speech at the Women’s League luncheon. He didn’t even mind when I talked about how hurt and angry I was that Neil had yet to show up to one of Cody’s games. Their team was still undefeated, and Cody threw for his first touchdown Friday night. The kid was still on cloud nine. Reed had just listened.

  And I loved listening to him talk about his students and players. I could tell he genuinely cared for them. So much so, he went to school every morning early to tutor those that needed extra help. There was never a silent moment between us, except when we were speaking a language that required no verbalization, unless you count those gasps I couldn’t help but letting out. I think Reed was now making it his mission to make sure I did that often. I wouldn’t complain about it at all.

  “Weatherby Orchards? Why so far?” Ma’s suspicion brought me back to the present. Too bad, I was enjoying reliving yesterday. Unfortunately, her suspicious tone had the added effect of making everyone at the table, except my son and nephews, look my way with scrutinizing gazes. Reed joined in. He had to, or it would have looked suspect, though I swore his lip twitched.

  Thankfully, I had an excuse ready to go. This probably wasn’t good. If Cody every found out, how could I ever tell him not to sneak around? Or worse, what if he already was and he was so good at it that he hadn’t been caught yet? Yet was the operative word. I would find out eventually. I hoped. I was at least thankful Cody knew I had gone to pick apples. It was hard to miss the baskets of them on our island.

  I gave Ma my best smile. “They have Granny Smith apples, which make the best pies, in my opinion.”

  “I won’t argue with that.” Dad took another large bite of pie.

  I hoped it would end with that, but where there was Mimsy, there would always be a show. She eyed her glass of water before her cataract eyes hit me. “Samantha Marie, you’re blushing. Perhaps you decided to partake of some forbidden fruit while picking mankind’s downfall.”

  Did she really just say that? By the snickers around the table I would say yes, yes she did.

  A deep sigh escaped while I tried not to roll my eyes at my grandmother. “Mimsy, there is no evidence that Adam and Eve ate an apple. For all we know, that was symbolic.”

  “And what was it symbolic for? Sex, I tell you.” She was itching to get her hands on her glass of water.

  Her great grandsons ran out of the room with their pie, laughing as they went.

  “Are you having sex?” Ma was now in a panic. Her fork dropped and clanged against her plate. “You promised me you weren’t.” She was practically on the verge of tears.

  How did we get here? It was apple pie, for crying out loud. All eyes were on me, except Reed. He was shoveling pie in his mouth at record speeds. And James had a hard time focusing because his body was shaking so hard trying to hold in his laugh. My sisters-in-law gave me we-are-so-sorry smiles, but better you than us.

  Dad surprised me and tried to come to my rescue. “Sarah, lay off her, she’s a grown woman; we can’t tell her what to do.” I knew he meant that, but in his father eyes, I could see he was hoping I wasn’t partaking, as Mimsy called it.

  I gave him a thank-you smile.

  Ma did not like that at all. She conjured up the worst evil eye in the history of vile looks. The temperature in the room dropped to Siberian Tundra levels. “Joseph, so help me, I’ll sell your ice boat on eBay.”

  That was an idle threat. I didn’t think Ma knew how to do that. I still had to help her order things on Amazon.

  “We’re having a house built!” blessed, wonderful Peter shouted.

  Every head whipped his and Delanie’s way. It was the first time ever I saw Delanie look irritated with her husband. She had obviously wanted to keep that a secret by the look of her scarlet tinged cheeks and clenched fists. Peter kissed her head as if to say sorry. I mouthed my thanks to the pair. I felt horrible and grateful all at once. At least no one at the table considered purchasing a home a sin.

  Scratch that. I should have realized if apple picking was cause for concern, so was building a house, at least where Ma was concerned. While the rest of us were bombarding them with normal questions like where, when, who’s the builder, and why didn’t you say anything before, Ma studied the pair. I could see her blood pressure rising. It was almost enough for me to falsely admit I was having sex to protect Delanie from the wrath building up in Ma.

  “Ma, I’ll help you with the dishes.” I stood and picked up my plate with a half-eaten piece of pie on it, hoping she would follow me. I figured it was better not to blurt out that I was breaking my mother’s top commandment, especially since the man I was secretly dating was sitting at the table. He may wonder if I was dating other men and why I wasn’t sleeping with him. Not like he had asked me to or that we had ever discussed any sort of relationship status. A fact I was grateful for, I might add. It was one of the reasons I liked dating Reed, he seemed to be in it only for fun. He wasn’t putting any pressure on me, nor I on him. We never discussed our future or what it was we were doing together. We just had a great time no matter what it was we were doing, even if it was talking on the phone. He was exactly what I needed.

  Ma wasn’t falling for it. She didn’t even acknowledge me. I sat right back down, bracing for the cyclone that was about ready to blow. The final straw came when Peter reluctantly admitted where the
y were moving.

  He reached under the table, I assume to hold Delanie’s hand. At first I found it odd, but it made more sense when he said, “Bridgefield Estates.”

  A hush fell over the table. Everyone but Mimsy seemed to know where that was. I knew because it wasn’t all that far from my house. I frequently drove by the gated community with the gorgeous houses on my way home from the office. The question on everyone’s mind was . . . well, Ma went ahead and voiced it.

  “I knew it. I knew it.” Ma’s penetrating glare at Delanie blew the vile look she had given Dad moments earlier out of the water. “I just knew you were into something illegal. How else could you afford to live in such a community?” Ma held onto the table like it was all that was keeping her from going ballistic.

  No one else thought Delanie was into anything illegal; Peter would have never married her if she had been. But we were all wondering how they could afford to build a house in a community where, according to the signs outside of Bridgefield Estates, the starting price was $750,000. We all basically knew how much money we each made, except for Delanie. We assumed, or I had, that it couldn’t be much since they’d been living in a small apartment ever since they moved here. And there was nothing in Delanie’s appearance or clothing to suggest she was rolling in dough—she always had a vintage boho look going for her. Nothing expensive. Maybe those diamond studs in her nose were the real thing. I assumed cubic zirconia.

  If we thought Ma was mad, she had nothing on Peter. He rose slowly and deliberately, like an ominous figure, and threw his napkin on the table. His green eyes bore into Ma’s.

  “I’ve had enough of you disrespecting my wife.”

  With those words, Delanie stood and took her husband’s hand and leaned into him. Her face was beaming up at him with pride and love. Her diamond nose ring seemed to sparkle brighter.

  Peter let go of her hand and securely wrapped his arm around her waist. “Delanie is the best person I know, and until you recognize that and apologize to her, we won’t be coming back.”

  Peter demanded with his eyes that Ma do exactly that. Immediately, if not sooner.