by Ford, Julie
“Great. I see you’re going with the ‘she made me do it’ excuse.”
Glaring at his brother, John asked, “What am I gonna do?”
“You’re going to convince her to wait until after the election, pretend like everything’s fine for now—nobody has to know.” Andy was serious at last.
“She already said that she’d wait if I move out.”
“Great, no worries then. You got a place to stay?”
“No, I haven’t thought about that,” John said, utterly bemused. “I’ve got a perfectly good home that I bought and paid for.”
“I’ve got more news for you—you had an affair. Jocelyn’s going to take your home and everything else she wants.”
John shook his head. “Jocelyn’s not like that,” he whispered.
“I know you don’t want to move back in with Momma,” Andy said. “You can have my condo—stay as long as you want.”
“Condo?”
“You know—the one I bought when I was…” Andy moved his fist back and forth, a devious look on his face. “With that sexy little intern a few years back. I tell you what, she was somethin’ else.” Andy leaned his head back, a faraway look in his eye. “It still comes in handy every now and then, so I held on to it.”
John looked at his brother, chagrinned now, seeing a little too much of himself.
Andy fished through his bag and produced a set of keys. Choosing one, he removed it and handed the key over to John. “You know where it is. Knock yourself out.”
John’s heart was in the pit of his stomach as he reached over and plucked the key from Andy’s fingers.
“Come on, John, its not all that bad.”
“How’s that, exactly?”
“It was gonna happen sooner or later.” When John looked at his brother bewildered, Andy said, “It’s not like you ever loved her. She was bound to catch on sometime. Right?”
John didn’t answer; he just stared through watery eyes back at the key, turning it over and over in his hand. Didn’t I?
“Oh, and don’t say anything about this to Patrick. I think he kinda has a thing for Jocelyn.” Andy laughed. “We don’t need her using Patrick and trying to settle some score with you—you know what I’m saying?”
What the hell’s happening? John asked himself, feeling like he’d been sucker punched. Trisha. He thought about how guilty he’d felt after the first time he slept with her. How he’d come home determined to make things right with Josie, to have that fourth child and complete their family. But the baby didn’t happen, and Josie seemed almost…relieved. Why didn’t she want his child? Then, after the incident at the fundraiser, he’d just given up—turned to Trisha—she was sober at least and always seemed to say the right things.
What have I done?
Chapter 11
Spinning slowly in her leather office chair, Josie watched as the warm brown walls, mahogany bookshelves, pictures that need hanging, and packed boxes slowly drifted past. She stopped momentarily to stare through the narrow slits of the wooden mini blinds, out into the gray day, at the dormant grass and leafless branches left bare by the winter season. A metaphor, she thought, for what her life had become since throwing John out. Her world, like this season, was quietly waiting for life to re-emerge.
She’d followed her mother’s advice, asking for a divorce. Now, Carol had no more counsel, just repressed anger left from her years with the Judge directed toward her daughter’s husband.
Then, she’d left the island, finished with John and ready, anxious even, to move on. But move on to what? A life as a single, working mother, raising three children alone? What about John’s life had changed? Nothing…nothing except his address.
Why is John allowed to continue to live his dreams while I’m left holding the “bag”? And like an itch that became more intense each time she’d scratched it, everyday her anger toward him grew.
“Anger’s toxic,” Barbara had told her. “It’s like a drug—giving you a false sense of power.”
“How long am I going to be angry?”
“Don’t let it cloud your perspective, Josie. If you do, you’ll never see what’s really important, never move on.”
She didn’t want to end up a bitter, lonely divorcee. But what did she want her life to look like once the vehemence subsided?
The phone on her desk sent out a low buzz. “This is Josie,” she answered.
John’s brutish voice spat from the phone: “Jocelyn, what happened to the pool?”
“I dunno,” she said. She hadn’t had time to look at the pool.
“It’s green. You have to take care of it. You can’t just let it go.”
Suddenly aware that John was at the house, Josie felt her nostrils flare with the building heat of her irritation. “Well, hire a pool boy,” she said coolly, trying to hold her temper.
“I’m not hiring someone to do something that I’m perfectly capable of doing myself.”
What was John doing at their—no her—house anyway? He didn’t deserve to be there. He’d lost his right to be there, or to have a say. “You don’t live there anymore!” Josie didn’t want to hold her anger. She wanted to let it out. “Maybe I need the pool boy for more than just the pool,” Josie said, sardonically.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jocelyn.”
“I can assure you I’m being perfectly serious. Take care of the pool and then get the hell out.” Josie allowed her indignation to mesh with her sarcasm. “Is there anything else?”
With a sigh, John continued, “My sisters are coming in from Atlanta this weekend and Momma’s having everyone over.”
A temporary sense of jubilance crept in when Josie realized she no longer had to endure social gatherings with John’s self-righteous, closed-minded family. “Fine, I’ll drop the kids off.”
“You need to stay. They’ll be expecting you to be there.”
“Your family’s never held anything but contempt for me and you know it.” He’d seen the way they treated her and ignored it. Her anger seethed. “Enduring a day of disdainful glances and derogatory comments from your momma and sisters is Trish’s responsibility now—I’m done!” She slammed the receiver back into its carriage.
Only, hanging up on John wasn’t good enough, so she plucked an unsuspecting pencil from the holder and snapped it in two. “Bastard!” She broke another. Josie breathed hard and deep as her still-sore ribs cried for her to end the rage. “Why did he have to cheat? Why wasn’t I good enough?” Josie’s belligerence melted to despair as the humiliation of being cast aside for another woman resurfaced. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked herself over and over.
After wallowing in self-pity a moment longer, Josie took the broken pencils and flung them across her office into the back of the door just as someone from the other side edged it cautiously open. Poking his head around the corner, Brian leaned in and said, “This a bad time?” Reaching down, he picked up a broken piece of pencil.
Josie straightened, smoothing her russet curls away from her flushed face. “No, come on in.”
“How you holdin’ up?” he asked, crossing the area rug warming the hard wood floor beneath. His smile was easy but his eyes watchful. With his shirtsleeves rolled up twice and tie loosened as usual, he moved a heavy box effortlessly and eased casually into one of her chairs.
“Fine.” Josie’s voice cracked.
“Right.” Brian raised one brow doubtfully. “You forget that I know you. In every sense of the word.”
Josie’s eyes narrowed. “Is sex all you men think about?” she asked, concluding that he was no different from John. Dogs, all of them, just looking for the next bitch to screw.
“Pretty much.” He looked to the ceiling. “And food, and football—in that order,” he said, pursing his lips deviously.
Josie decided to unleash her anger on Brian sitting conveniently at her disposal.
“And, physical appearance, that’s more important than brains, or let’s say, any semblance of a moral comp
ass?”
“Josie, you are the most sexy, interesting woman I’ve ever known.” Shaking his head while brushing his hands absently over his trousers, he said, “The man’s a damn fool.” His balmy chocolate eyes twinkled from across her desk. She felt her resolve soften a notch or two.
She took a deep breath to calm her anger while studying Brian’s face. Damn, he’s cute. She’d been wrong. He was nothing like John.
“Shouldn’t you buy me dinner before engaging in such talk?” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.
“When you’re ready, you’ll let me know, and I’ll buy you that dinner.” After holding her gaze for a steamy moment, he pushed up from the chair and changed the subject. “But for now, we have a staff meeting and after that I’m going to help you hang these pictures and unpack these boxes. It’s time you settled in.”
As he spoke, Josie watched his lips, remembering how they felt pressed against hers. She’d always loved the way he moved, casual but confident, his strong hands capable of gentle touch.
“Oh, and no more phone calls from estranged husbands or I’ll go broke buying pencils.” Smiling, he placed the broken remnants of Josie’s tantrum on her desk with finality.
Maybe spring’s coming early this year, she hoped.
* * * *
Standing in front of the refrigerator, Josie studied the calendar, trying to decide which days she needed her mother to pick Beth up from pre-K, and what days she’d be able to do it. She rubbed her moist palms together and took a few cleansing breaths while feeling anxious but excited about spending the day with Brian. After changing her outfit a half dozen times before settling on a winter-white cashmere wrap sweater, single strand of pearls, black crepe skirt, tights, and heeled Mary Jane’s, Josie looked professional, but feminine.
She closed her eyes for just a second, circling her head around, trying to work out a stress kink while wishing she had another hour, maybe two more, to sleep. Although Josie had been going to bed alone for at least a year now, somehow knowing John was gone, and not expected to come creeping in at some point, made the bed feel massive and empty. Since he’d left, Josie’d spent too many nights being kicked in the back by her little angel girl.
The pantry was becoming sparse, the laundry and dust piling up. Josie hoped that in time her life would come together and she would miraculously become that elusive twenty-first century woman who looked fabulous every second of the day while working, raising children, and keeping a perfect home. It had been just over two weeks since they’d come back from the Caribbean and living life as a single, working mother was already starting to wear on her.
Looking at the front of the refrigerator, swarming with pictures and drawings, Josie decided to take a few moments to de-clutter. As she snatched items long overdue for removal, she hesitated when reaching for a newspaper clipping about how John had saved twenty people from a burning bus. The whole event had taken on a life of its own since they’d gotten home. A few days after the trip, Bobbie had come home with this article, proud as pie that his father was a “hero.” Then, Josie heard Jack on the phone with Ashley, telling her how John “saved his momma from a burning bus.”
Although she couldn’t conceive of how John had allowed the facts to get so distorted, Josie had been a pretty good sport about the whole thing. Except that one time when she’d hung up on the producer of a local nightly news program after he’d asked her if she’d like to be interviewed live, with John, telling all of Birmingham how he had saved her life, along with all the others. She scoffed at the memory. What’s next, the Nobel Peace Prize? As she plucked the article off and added it to the other papers destined for the “round file”, Josie’s heart stopped momentarily when a flyer, trimmed in gold with Roy’s Holiday Sale written in swirling calligraphy, showcasing the bracelet, fell into her hand. Josie’s eyes gazed woefully at the image of the bracelet. Running her fingers lightly over the page, she felt pangs of disappointment as she remembered how excited she’d been after leaving Roy’s store that day.
When she finally tore her gaze away from the ad, she looked up with a start and dropped the paper to the floor.
“Good Lord, John! What are you doing here?” she asked, reaching down to pick up the flier. “How did you get in?”
“It’s good to see you too, Babe,” John said coolly. “You left the garage door open.” Dressed in an olive-colored suit, his dress shirt disheveled and his eyes drooping and dull, he looked tired and… She stared into his face—Downright miserable. Resting on the floor, next to his leg, was a suitcase.
“You can’t just come waltzing in here whenever you feel like it, John,” Josie said. “And what’s with the suitcase?”
“First of all, I wrote a mortgage check the other day and that means I can come here whenever I want. And I need a place to stay for a little while,” he said, probably not as forcefully as he would have liked.
Josie tried to brush him off. “Why can’t you go back to wherever it was you’ve been staying up until now?” She didn’t need this today, or any day.
“Andy’s condo flooded. It’s going to take a couple weeks to clean everything up,” John said, shifting his anxious gaze.
“Andy has a condo?” Josie asked.
“Yeah.”
“Andy has a condo no one knows about?” When John looked away again, Josie figured it out. “Oh, I see! Infidelity runs in your family. That would have been good to know eleven years ago.”
With a hard sigh, John said, “I need to stay here a while.”
“Go to your momma’s.”
“Be serious, Jocelyn.” When Josie gave him a don’t-I-look-serious stare, he said, “She doesn’t know anything about…any of this yet.”
Of course she didn’t. If John told his mother, he would either have to lie about the reason he needed a place to stay, or tell his mom the truth. Josie wondered what excuse he’d given for her not showing up at the last family gathering. Coward!
“Well, you are not coming back here. We had an agreement.”
“We didn’t agree on any such thing. Blackmail’s more like it.”
“Whatever.”
“Come on! What’s the worst that can happen?” With his hands on the counter, he leaned closer, and said, “I’ll stay in the pool house.”
“No!”
“You’re being ridiculous—I can help out.” Removing his hands from the counter, John waved them around. “You’re working now. I’ll help with the kids…pick ’em up—whatever you—”
“Daddy, Daddy!” Beth came running down the hall yelling. Jack and Bobbie were right on her heels. She slammed into his legs, knocking him back.
Reaching down, he picked her up and spun her around. “I’ve missed you, baby girl.”
“I’ve missed you too, Daddy.” She squeezed her little arms tight around his neck.
Jack and Bobbie wrapped their arms around him too. “You missed my game, and I scored fifteen points,” Jack said.
Yeah right, like he’s ever come before. Josie rolled her eyes.
“I’m testing for my blue belt in two weeks—that’s one under black,” Bobbie said.
John probably doesn’t even know what that means. Josie interrupted. “All right, it’s time to go. Get all your things together, including everything you’re bound to remember when we’re pulling down the drive, and let’s go.”
When John set Beth down, and gave Josie a try-and-say-no-now look, she felt that unrelenting need to make him suffer boiling to surface. Her first reaction was to say, “Too bad, you made your bed; now can you can lie in it.” But as she watched Beth follow her brothers down the hall to gather their things, looking back to make sure John was still there, she knew that hurting John would only make her feel better temporarily. Her vengeful heart warmed with the love in her daughter’s innocent eyes.
So, for the kids, she heard herself saying, “Lord, I must be crazy or something.” Pointing a finger in his direction, she laid down the law. “You’re staying in the pool
house. And don’t even think about bringing that woman around here.”
“I wouldn’t. You should know better than that,” John said before adding weakly, “and that’s not going to be a problem anyway.”
Why wouldn’t that be a problem? Josie wondered, and then decided she didn’t care. “Two weeks, and then you’re gone. Understand?” She couldn’t believe she was agreeing to this.
“Sure, but I’m going to need a key.” John eyed his wife skeptically. “For some reason mine doesn’t work anymore.”
Josie bit her lip to hide her embarrassment. Although it seemed like a good idea at the time, she felt slightly ridiculous now. Re-keying the house was probably…well, overreacting. Josie set down Roy’s ad, reached into one of the kitchen drawers, and pulled out a key. Avoiding his gaze, she placed it on the counter and slid it over to him.
Instead of picking up the key John reached over and turned the flier around so he could see it. Sighing, he said, “Just so you know, I didn’t buy that bracelet for Trisha.”
Josie eyed him a moment, wondering if she’d heard him right. “But Roy said you did.”
“Trisha saw the flier in my stuff.” John lifted a shoulder. “I don’t even know how it got there.”
I put it there, you moron!
“Denton told her to buy herself something nice for their anniversary, and she asked me to pick it up for her.”
Josie thought somehow this information should make her feel better. Only now, Trisha showing up with her bracelet seemed considerably more sick and twisted than what she’d originally thought. Instead of John buying it as a gift for his mistress, John had bought it as a gift for his mistresses’ husband to give as an anniversary gift—to his wife…whom John was… Good Lord, what a crazy mixed-up life.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as they regarded one another through ambiguous eyes. The re-emergence of the kids, clad with jackets and backpacks, broke the stillness. As she took up her laptop and purse, her anxiety about riding with Brian was replaced by the dread of having John back at home. Josie ushered her children out the door, leaving John standing alone in their empty kitchen.