by Susan Sands
Cammie referred to the situation with her husband, Grey, and their very complicated history. They’d fought tooth and nail to be together after a past filled with angst and regret.
“Yes, well, I had to swallow a ton of pride and admit to some things about myself I wasn’t proud of, and so did Grey. We learned a lot about ourselves, both good and really awful.”
“You’ve never been awful,” he said.
“You don’t think so, huh? Well, life and its situations make us say and take some pretty questionable actions. So, you’ve just learned some uncomfortable things about yourself that you’re not proud of. Okay. Move forward differently. Make amends where you feel you should. No one hates you.”
Ben’s heart lightened just a little at Cammie’s words. He had the love and support of his family, at least. But he did have some amends to make.
Sabine made the call once she’d arrived home from work. Mom had gone grocery shopping, or so her note on the fridge said.
“Richard? It’s Sabine.” Silence.
“Just a moment.” His deep voice was clipped. Sabine heard a heavy thud, then a click, like a door shutting and bolt being thrown. A deep inhale, then exhale. “Sabine. I’m glad you finally called. Where are you?”
“Richard, it doesn’t matter.” She took a deep breath. She hadn’t expected to react to his voice with shaking hands and such timidity. “We need to discuss a divorce. Soon.”
“No. No divorce. It’s bad enough the position you’ve put me in. I’ve made ridiculous excuses to the constituents. I need you to come home.”
“I am home. I don’t live with you anymore. You humiliated me and assured that I could never trust you again. I guess I never could.” She had loved Richard. He’d been her first love.
“I love you, Sabine—”
“No. Stop. You can’t say that. The moment you consorted with other women, you lost the opportunity to ever say that again. So, just don’t, okay? When I left, I wasn’t strong enough to fight you and all the politics. I am now. I want a divorce. I want it now, and I want it quietly.”
“You sound like you hold all the cards, Sabine. I have a feeling you don’t want to be brought back into the circus. But I can’t let you go that easily.”
“Why, Richard? It’s not like you need me. You’ve done just fine since I left.” She assumed he had, at least. Sabine had tried hard not to keep up. The less she knew, the cleaner and more separate she’d felt. Richard’s actions had left her coated with an inexplicable nastiness she’d worked hard to physically and emotionally distance herself from.
“How would you know? I wanted children. Someone to carry on my family line. Our children. You’ve deprived me of that. Your father would have enjoyed that.”
“How do my father’s wishes enter into this? You can’t want to be associated with him since his conviction. That can’t help you get reelected.”
Richard sighed a heavy sigh. “It’s not his public support I need, but his connections that aren’t seen by anyone else. Sabine, you of all people know how valuable that is in state politics. Plus, divorce carries such a nasty stigma for a male politician.”
“So do hookers,” she said, no noticeable emotion in her tone.
“Well, that hasn’t gotten out, and hopefully it won’t. Your father made certain it didn’t, and last I heard, he was against your divorcing me.”
“He’s on my side now. I have a life to live, and it’s not as a politician’s wife in Louisiana. I won’t be shamed and made a fool of anymore.”
“Sweetheart, nobody knows about that.”
“Do not call me sweetheart. What happened to you, Richard? That’s not the man you were when we met.” She worked to keep the shrill out of her voice.
“You never were made of the stuff to take it on, were you? It takes a Teflon coating, you know? Letting things slide right off is easier.”
Sabine shook her head in disbelief. This was the man she’d loved and married. “No, I’m not coated with Teflon, for sure, which is why I want a clean break—a no-fault divorce.”
“Maybe we can arrange a deal. I’ll need to think about the details, but it will definitely include your public endorsement. Reelection is right around the corner, you know.”
“Public endorsement?”
“You know, something like you getting up on stage and introducing me at the governor’s ball, and saying how we’re still the best of friends, and you endorse me a hundred percent—yadda, yadda, yadda...”
“Those things get a lot of regional press.” Alabama was only two states away, and the governor’s ball drew politicians and professionals from several Southern states.
“We can only hope.”
Sabine’s stomach threatened to retch. Someone might recognize her. If that happened, then all this was for nothing. The life she’d been building here in Alabama would implode. Her patients—She would be exposed as a liar and fraud.
“You still there?” Richard nudged.
“I don’t want to make public appearances.”
“You abandoned me and our marriage. I tried to be a loving husband and give you time to grieve and heal. But I need you to do this, and if you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone, where you are, knows exactly who you are and what you’ve done—and who your father is. So far, I haven’t bothered you out of some misguided belief that you’d return to your senses and come home. Clearly, it’s time to talk turkey, Sabine. I’ll sit down and figure out terms and let you know.”
Sabine was shaking from head to toe now. “Why? Why would you do this?”
“Because you’re my wife, and your place is with me. I think the law will agree. Oh, and because I love you, of course.” The line went dead.
Sabine stood, her phone still dangling from her fingers when Mom found her some time later. “Sabine, honey, are you alright?”
“Huh?” Sabine took a moment to refocus. “No. I—just spoke to Richard. Nothing’s fine.”
“Sit down.”
Sabine sat.
“What did he say?”
Sabine relayed their conversation word for word. She was too stunned to do otherwise.
Mom frowned. “Well, at least we know what we’re up against now. He’s shown all his cards.”
“What?”
“You didn’t blackmail him? You could, you know. And you have the leverage with your father. Without his support, Richard can take a hard fall from grace.”
“Yes, but he’ll take me down with him.”
Sabine thought about her mother’s words. It all seemed so skeezy, but Richard had brought them down to this level, so that was where they would begin. Now, she’d have to employ the same kind of character-degrading values needed to survive and emerge the victor from the political sludge. While she’d been in the public arena, Sabine had done her best work for women, children, education, and any cause she could improve by using her influence and position as a state senator’s wife.
She wasn’t ashamed of the good work she’d done, only what surrounded by political agendas, money, and power did to those who were corrupted by it. Like her father and husband. They had started out as good men with the best intentions.
Were they just weak? Would a better man have avoided such temptation? Or was it an infectious disease where no one elected to office was immune, and eventually everyone succumbed to some degree? She simply knew that whomever she became involved with moving forward wouldn’t be in that arena. Period.
Ben called the office instead of her cell phone. This was business. He needed someone to talk to who understood the situation. Who better than Sabine? She might not respect him or his behavior, but at least she would have all the facts.
He got the office voice mail, which wasn’t surprising, since it was after five, so he left a message with the pertinent information. Name, callback number. No, he wasn’t considering suicide.
Then, he headed home. As he’d locked up his office, he spotted Jeff, who gave a brisk nod. Jeff must’ve found out fro
m Hailey about their meeting, because he hadn’t been quite as rude lately. Not warm and fuzzy, but not as overtly hostile.
That was one heavy burden lightened, but Ben was still struggling mightily with the guilt of idiocy and past self-delusion. His whistling, everything-right-with-the-world self-confidence was shattered. He wanted it back. No, he wanted something less foolish. It had been an illusion.
As he drove through town, the idea of being alone tonight squeezed at him like a crushing weight. He spotted several cars at the Buzzer, the local sports bar. It had been a while since he’d hung out with the guys. Before he thought better of it, Ben pulled his truck beside an older model blue Ford with rusted spots. He recognized the truck as belonging to an old high school buddy, Roland. Lord, he hoped he hadn’t slept with or dated any of Roland’s exes. Roland might forgive him since Ben had helped him get community service instead of jail time after his second DUI. Of course, seeing Roland’s truck parked at the bar didn’t bode well.
Ben looked down at his attire and realized he might appear just a little fancy for the venue. He untucked his shirt and pulled off the tie. Not enough. He grabbed the old red Alabama T-shirt out of his gym bag. He pulled on the pair of boots on the floorboard of his truck. Too bad about the dress pants. He’d been in court today.
It would have to do. He locked up his truck and headed inside. The interior was dim, lit along the walls with neon beer signs. The smell of boiled peanuts mixed with various forms of alcohol hit at the same time he felt the crunch of the peanut shells beneath his boots.
“That’s quite a getup you’ve got working there,” the bartender observed.
“Yeah. Best I could do straight from work.”
“What can I get you?”
“Bud.” Ben didn’t recognize the guy behind the bar with the long, dark hair tied back into a man bun. “Where’s Joe?”
“Joe’s got gout. He’s taking some time off. So, you’ve got me. Name’s Ace.” He tapped his very muscular chest as if daring Ben to defy him.
“Ben. Ben Laroux. Nice to meet you.” Ben stuck out his hand, like he always did.
He and Ace shook, but before Ben could even pull back his hand, he was squeezed from behind in a colossal bear hug.
“Ben, my man. What’s with the fancy Nancy outfit?” Bubba Joe Hebert finally let Ben go before he passed out from lack of oxygen.
Bubba had played center on Ministry’s offensive line back in the day and never let anyone forget it. He and Junior, Ben’s brother-in-law, were brothers.
“What’s up, Bubba?” Didn’t every small town have a Bubba, and a Junior, or three for that matter?
“Dude, haven’t seen you in here in a coon’s age. How’s it hangin’?” Bubba said.
“Yeah, we thought you was too slick and shit to hang with us, big lawyer man,” Roland chimed in.
Ben looked over to where Roland, who looked as if he’d already had a few beers, waited for a response. “Well, Roland, I was slick enough to get your ass community service and parole last year when you got that second DUI over in Cheneyville, wasn’t I?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude. I didn’t mean no offense. Just giving you the business. We just hardly see you around here anymore.”
Ben slapped his two classmates on the back. “I’m reassessing my priorities today, gentlemen. Next round’s on me. As long as y’all don’t drive yourselves home.”
They nodded and grinned a little drunkenly. Which meant Ben would be arranging a ride home for them all.
The third beer slid down smoother than the second. It had been ages since Ben had over-imbibed. Or been even the slightest irresponsible. Oh, wait, he’d take that back. Hailey. And the other women. That had been stupidly irresponsible.
Just as beer number four was cued up and ready to go, he got a whiff of perfume. And heard a female voice, and then her laugh. Lisa.
Ben whipped his head around in the direction where he’d heard her. She was two tables away, but there were several people between them. She was laughing at something, her blonde hair shining down her back. Steve stood beside her, his arm draped casually across her shoulders.
Should he go over; say hi? No. He was almost drunk, and certainly not at his best to have any sort of coherent conversation. Then, without warning, Lisa turned and met his gaze. Her eyes lit up, then, she waved. She waved as if nothing had ever gone on between them. As if she hadn’t stolen his future happiness by cheating on him with his best friend and breaking his heart. She’d ruined him for other relationships.
And she’d waved? All this time he’d believed he was okay. But seeing them happy together wasn’t okay. Or maybe it just was unexpected. He was having a hard time taking in air.
Ben slapped two twenties on the bar and stormed out, knocking over his barstool in the process. “Make sure those two have a ride home.” He motioned toward Roland and Bubba.
Ace shot him a look that said, I’m a bartender, so I’ve been exposed to a lot of weird shit, so I’ll just take the money and handle it. “Sure man. No problem.”
Ben busted out of there, gasping for air, and made his way toward his truck. But he knew he couldn’t drive—too many beers.
Pulling out his phone, he fumbled, trying to get to his contacts. “Hello?”
“Hello? Who is this?” Shit, who had he called?
“Well, shit,” he muttered, staring at his phone.
“Sorry?” a female voice answered.
“I was trying to call my sister,” Ben said.
“Are you okay?” Sabine asked.
“Okay? Uh, I don’t know. I guess I’m okay.” He was borderline wasted after four beers. What a lightweight. He was slurry, even.
“Ben, where are you?” Sabine sounded worried.
“The bar. The Buzzer. Need to leave.”
“I’m on my way home. I’ll swing by. Are you outside?”
“Yup. Right by my truck.”
“Don’t you dare try and drive. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
“I won’t. Scout’s honor.”
“I’ve heard that before. Almost there.”
“Yup.”
Sabine’s heart thumped too fast in her chest. He’d drunk dialed her office number. After hours, her calls were automatically forwarded to her cell. The ring was different, so she could identify it. But, why her? He didn’t seem like much of a drinker. In fact, from what she’d surmised, he hardly ever drank much more than a beer at a time. Something was off; she could feel it.
As she rounded the corner at the red light, she caught sight of him, sitting on his tailgate. His head was bowed, and he almost looked ridiculous in his suit pants, cowboy boots, and ancient Alabama T-shirt that hugged his muscular torso. Almost.
He’d caught sight of her, and his expression changed from dejected to what appeared to be relieved. Then, just as she rolled down the window to call out to him, a gorgeous blonde woman approached, distracting his attention from Sabine.
Sabine wished she’d never witnessed the play of emotions that crossed his face in that moment. The pain in his eyes made her want to weep—and it made her want to kill this woman who’d obviously hurt him so badly.
It was as if this blonde flipped a switch in Ben, animating him to a deeper level—certainly one Sabine hadn’t known existed until now. He’d changed, right there in front of Sabine.
Sabine wanted to watch. Like the voyeur therapist she was, she was fascinated by the drama playing out between these two humans who’d clearly shared a past filled with deep emotions and drama. It was fascinating—and private—she realized.
So, Sabine pulled the car into a parking space a few slots away, hoping to get some idea what was happening. So, sue her, she still was curious.
Besides, he’d called her, whether he’d meant to or not. So, she had every right to be here and to check on him. But she would wait a few minutes and give the two some privacy. Sabine cut the engine and rolled down her windows. And waited.
She could hear them talking s
oftly, but there was a breeze, so their voices carried. The woman’s tone was soothing and sad. This must be Lisa. The Lisa Cammie had mentioned. Ben’s voice sounded rough, angry, and belligerent. Sabine hadn’t ever heard smooth-talking Ben sound so out of control before. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or, maybe it was raw emotion. Indecision warred within her. Something deep inside told her Ben, without the alcohol wouldn’t want to lose his cool, or his pride with this woman, or any woman.
So, Sabine made a decision that might cost her dearly. She first put on lipstick and fluffed her hair. And fixed her cleavage. Suddenly, she was glad she’d worn the high heels today.
“Hey, you. I got your message. You ready to go?” Sabine didn’t normally flaunt her God-given looks. But she hadn’t been born a woman for nothing.
Ben’s head snapped up and his eyes connected with Sabine’s. She sent him a message in that gaze. Save your pride, man, and get in the car with me.
He got the message. His miserable, bleary eyes cleared as if she’d slapped him silly. “Oh, hey there. Lisa, this is Sabine. I don’t think you’ve met.”
The blonde woman’s eye opened just a fraction wider, and then, to her credit, she smiled at Sabine. A big, wide, friendly grin. “I’m Lisa. I haven’t seen Ben in ages, and I hoped we’d have a chance to catch up.”
Okay, Sabine hadn’t expected this. Jealousy, maybe, or competitive female response of some sort. But overt, honest friendliness. No wonder Ben was over the moon about this girl. She was perfect. Sabine might have a little girl crush developing.
Ben came over to where Sabine stood and placed an arm around her shoulders. Another surprise. She instinctively leaned into his armpit. He smelled like deodorant, bar, and sweat. It was a little warm out this evening.
He managed to smile tightly at Lisa and said, “Maybe later. Sabine and I have plans later this evening. I hadn’t planned on more than one beer, but I ran into Roland and Bubba and, well, Sabine was on her way home anyway.” He shrugged, then grinned down at Sabine with such familiarity and appreciation, she felt it all the way through her woman parts.