The Woman He Married

by Ford, Julie

  * * * *

  Heading southeast on Highway 280 toward Talladega, Brian and Josie got temporarily caught up in traffic—no big surprise. Before the interstate was completed, Highway 280 was the main thoroughfare through Birmingham. Although Josie was a child when the interstate stopped just south of Birmingham, picking up again just north of the city, she knew the Governor at the time, George Wallace—arguably, not a proponent of civil rights—wasn’t crazy about the city of Birmingham and its largely black voting base. Allegedly, in retaliation for Birmingham’s lack of support during the election, Wallace “taught the city a lesson” by withholding the State funds needed to complete the interstate through the city. It wasn’t until the 1980s, long after Wallace’s governorship was over, that the interstate was complete. The Bible says vengeance belongs to God. In the south, vengeance belongs to whoever has the most power, or is in possession of the largest shotgun—sometimes both.

  Brian’s new Toyota Hybrid was nice, but Josie knew he could have afforded something much more expensive if he’d wanted. Although he worked pro-bono at times, his reputation had brought him many high-priced clients, and Josie thought that, in reality, he probably made more money than John—a partner in one of the most prestigious law firms in Alabama.

  Josie pretended to look over potential interview questions for the mother of young Slidell Henry while subtly watching Brian as he drove. Last week Brian announced, at their weekly staff meeting, that he and Josie would be heading out alone to conduct the interview. Sandra desperately wanted to be included. When Brian had refused to let her come, she’d spent the rest of the day pouting.

  Sandra was young, idealistic, opinionated, driven, and ready to take on the world. There was something Josie didn’t like about her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It could have been that Sandra had the most obvious crush on Brian, but it was probably because she reminded Josie too much of herself at that age. Truth be told, Sandra was the spitting image of a young Josie McClain.

  It seemed like ages since Josie had been alone with Brian, and although he appeared to be graying at the temples, and deep lines were beginning to form around his eyes, Josie felt her heartbeat soften with the familiar comfort of his presence. Resisting the urge to reach over and touch her finger to the cleft on his chin like she used to when they were together, she turned back to her notes.

  “It’s nice to have the old Josie back,” Brian commented when they were finally free of traffic.

  “The old Josie? I didn’t realize that she was gone,” Josie said, with a wry smile.

  “You know what I mean.” Brian rolled his eyes.

  Josie wrinkled her brow in mock annoyance. “No, I am not sure that I do. Explain.”

  “Remember when I came out here—before I moved back, and I ran into you and Gina at the Cracker Barrel?”

  Still pretending to be irritated, Josie held back her smile. “Ran into us?”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to see you. And Gina, she…you know.” Getting back on track, Brian said, “Anyway, there you were all covered in children.” He looked at her with raised brows, like the idea of Josie with kids was ludicrous.

  “Then Bobbie threw that nerf ball and hit you right in the face.” Josie giggled.

  “Beth was fussing about something with her shoes. I don’t remember.” He shook his head in continued disbelief. “When the kids finally got settled down and started eating…” He paused, turning pensive. “It was like a part of you was missing—like you weren’t Josie anymore.”

  Thinking back to when Beth was two, Bobbie just getting out of kindergarten, John growing less interested in her and more distant than ever, Josie remembered how her life felt as if it belonged to everyone except herself. All those endless hours sloshing on a sea of monotony, looking to a horizon she could never reach. Drinking almost nightly to fill the void. Those weren’t happy days for her.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what having three kids and a minivan does to a person.” Josie tried to joke, but Brian wasn’t laughing as they both fell silent.

  They were off the main highway now. Josie kept an eye on the road, trying to shake the angst she felt swelling between them while hoping, at the same time, they wouldn’t get lost. With no rhyme or reason, the back roads of Alabama snake around, stop and then start back up again; no road or highway truly ran north, south, east, or west. It wasn’t uncommon to start out heading, say, north, and then before you knew it, the road changed directions heading… Well, there’s no telling.

  “Why’d you come back, anyway?” Josie asked, bothered that he’d spoiled her good mood by conjuring up unhappy memories.

  Brian’s smile was warm, but somber. “Do you want me to tell you the truth? Or should I lie, and say it had nothing to do with you?”

  “Good ole Brian. Always looking for someone to save.”

  “Well, no offense, Baby, but you looked like you needed saving.”

  “So, what… I’m like your little “pet” project or something?”

  “Something like that.” Brian winced through his smile, easing the tension in the car.

  Mischievously, Josie reached over and flicked him on the ear.

  “Ouch! You don’t have to get violent! I’m drivin’ here.” He tensed up his right shoulder, playfully moving closer to his door.

  Josie smiled at him appreciatively. “I’m glad you came back.”

  Riding another half mile in silence, they passed acres of rolling hills, dotted with cattle and horses, lined with barbed wire fences, intermittent forests of thick pines, oak trees, vines, and ivy waiting to reemerge with vivid green once spring came. Alabama is truly a beautiful place, Josie thought.

  Brian broke the stillness with a question. “If I would have asked…first. Would you have married me?”

  His question surprised Josie and she took a moment to think. She loved Brian…was insane for John, but she’d never wanted to get married. So, why did she jump into marriage so quickly? Truthfully, she had no idea.

  Chuckling ironically, she said, “Probably. I guess I wasn’t as committed to my ‘no marriage’ policy as I thought I was.” When Brian stayed quiet, Josie said, “Do you think we would have had kids?”

  Brian smiled. “If we would have slowed down long enough, maybe. Kids were never part of our master plan.”

  “That’s true.” Josie leaned her head back onto the headrest, watching the scenery go by. She couldn’t imagine not having her children. What if she hadn’t married John? Her life hadn’t turned out as expected, but it must be true what “they” say: the best things in life are often the things that weren’t planned for. The blessings we didn’t have the sense to even wish for.

  Reaching over, Brian touched Josie’s bare ring finger. The sensation of his touch drifted smoothly up her arm, causing her heart to flutter.

  “I haven’t really worn it in months. Maybe deep down I’ve known for a while my marriage was over.”

  Releasing her finger, Brian slid his hand under Josie’s so their palms were touching. The subtleness of his warm skin pressing lightly against hers sent Josie’s senses reeling, and she had the sudden urge to climb over onto his lap and… Get a grip, Josie. Not even three weeks after John moved out, and she was already shamelessly lusting after another man.

  A knowing smile teased Brian’s lips as he threaded his fingers with hers, gripping her hand tightly. With her hand securely encased in his, Josie leaned her head back again and watched Brian steer the car, feeling contented, just like old times.

  * * * *

  Typical of rural Alabama, Slidell’s hometown was dotted with small wooden churches overshadowed by one large, red-brick Baptist church on the main road. Fast-food restaurants and modern supermarkets clashed with little mom-and-pop-shops, interfering with the quaintness of the town. In the city center stood the pillared town hall next to a library.

  As they passed the small middle school, Josie instructed Brian to turn on the next street. Then, they needed to turn right at the bl
ue house just beyond the burnt-out doublewide. Past the Sumiton Ranch—another doublewide with a few horses and a rusting tractor—they turned after the First Church of Christ, and headed down the dirt road. About a quarter mile around the bend sat the Henry home.

  Situated in the middle of a field like it fell out of the sky and simply landed there, Slidell’s home was an old frame house. Attached to the side was a large drum for heating oil. A few old sedans sat neglected out front. After parking the car, Brian popped the trunk and retrieved a heavy cardboard box.

  “Romance novels,” Brian said.

  “Where did you get all those books?” Josie asked. “Or, are they yours? Is there something you’re not telling me?” she teased him.

  Brian sent his eyes for a roll. “A friend of mine down at the library has been saving the ones the library doesn’t want anymore.” He gave her a clever smile. “Although the Bible is all she says she needs, Ms. Henry loves a good romance, and she’s read every single one from the library in town.”

  Friend, what friend? Josie felt a subtle pang of jealousy as she wondered if this librarian was one of Brian’s many “friends” who were really lovers. Since his second marriage failed, Brian had sort of sworn off relationships.

  Three concrete steps led up to a small front porch. Once inside the kitchen, Josie could see the floor of the entire home was laid with linoleum. The furnishings were humble, but the house was warm, immaculate, and smelled like the most wonderful chicken and dumplings. Josie instantly felt at home.

  Settled onto the couch with glasses of iced tea, Josie and Brian spent the afternoon talking with Slidell’s mother about the trial, jury selection, and how her son was faring at the county lock-up. Brian pulled a few strings and had Slidell moved into solitary, away from the general population where he would be safe from the atrocities that often occur in jail. Ms. Henry told them stories about growing up poor and black in ShelbyCounty during the sixties and seventies, and raising six children almost on her own. Six! A God-fearing woman, Ms. Henry had been a widow now for ten years and gave Brian a hard time for being divorced twice. Josie wondered how she felt about divorcing cheating husbands, but decided not to bring it up.

  Ms. Henry was a heavyset woman with eyes capable of looking right into a person’s soul. Probably not educated beyond the eighth grade, she appeared to have more common sense and understood the world better than most of the educated people Josie knew.

  “Sly’s a good boy; he wouldn’t hurt nobody,” she said. “I just don’t see how somethin’ like this could happen. I didn’t raise no killers or drug dealers.”

  Josie believed her, one hundred percent. She felt a sense of awe watching Brian converse easily with Ms. Henry, a woman with whom he had nothing in common, culturally, socially, or economically. Sure Brian had his high-priced, paying clients, but helping people like Sly and Ms. Henry was what Brian lived for. Contentment welled inside as Josie realized that by Brian allowing her to be a part of this case, he had given her a sense of fulfillment again—at last.

  * * * *

  When Josie got home she clicked on the evening news and saw John in front of campaign headquarters, being asked how he felt about his wife defending an accused murderer.

  John had responded with the standard, “Every American is innocent until proven guilty and has the right to proper counsel.” Then for emphasis he’d added, “I trust my wife wholly. If she didn’t feel this case had merit, I don’t believe she would be involved.”

  So she ventured out to the guest house to thank him and found John sitting on the bed surrounded by papers and legal documents. He’d cut down on his hours at the firm during the election, but still maintained a few clients.

  Josie stood in the doorway. “I just wanted to say thanks for your support, for saying you believed in me today.” She smiled awkwardly, feeling uneasy being in the guesthouse, alone with John. The last time they were out here, just the two of them, they were…naked.

  “I hope this Brian McAlister is as good as everyone says, or I’m going to have some explaining to do—to the voters that is,” John said in no uncertain terms.

  Josie stayed quiet, considering what he’d just said. Here she was assuming John was being supportive. Now, it was apparent he was simply portraying an image—playing the loyal husband.

  Her smile faded. Sarcasm replaced her ill ease. “Great, no pressure then,” she said, crossing her arms defensively.

  She thought about how encouraging Brian had been since coming back to Birmingham, urging her to take the bar and start back to work—bringing her in on this important case. How John continued to only think of himself.

  “What?” John said, clearly unaware he had said anything offensive.

  “Nothing. I’m sorry to have bothered you,” Josie said, turning to leave, feeling like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”

  “Wait! Jocelyn—”

  Josie slid the door shut and headed back to the house. What did I ever see in that man?

  * * * *

  A little more than a week after her drive with Brian, the trial date arrived. Dressed in her Calvin Klein navy suit, off-white satin fitted blouse, sheer hose, and three inch navy sling-backs, Josie made her way into the kitchen for coffee and a bite of breakfast before rousing the kids.

  Sitting at the counter, in a crisp white shirt and tie, John drank his coffee while concentrating on the screen of Josie’s laptop.

  “What are you doing in my kitchen?” she asked. “I swear you’re here more now than you ever were when I wanted you here,” she said, pouring coffee into her favorite mug inscribed with, “If I learn any more, I’ll be a threat to national security.”

  “I got news for ya, babe, it’s still my kitchen too,” John said, keeping his attention on the screen.

  Holding back a yawn, Josie realized John was messing with something on her computer. “What are you doing?”

  “Reading your closing argument.” John still didn’t look up, but instead he started tapping some of the keys. “That’s better.” He sat back, admiring his work.

  “I was up all night last night working on that. It’s fine the way it is.” The trial was expected to last only a few days at most with the only witnesses being the station owner’s family. Although the bullet pulled out of the deceased was the same caliber as that used in the gun found in Slidell’s home, ballistic investigations were inconclusive. Knowing Josie was an excellent speechwriter, Brian had asked her to put together a closing argument.

  John said, “I know. You were up until two in the morning.”

  “You were watching me?”

  John smiled deviously. “I was just looking to see if you were going to put on another show.”

  A few nights back, Josie had gone out late to get the mail, and got caught in a random Alabama downpour. By the time she’d come back in, the electricity had gone out. Soaked, Josie removed her dripping blouse in the dark kitchen. Just as the lights came back on, John appeared with a flashlight. Watching his wife as she fumbled to cover herself up, he’d teased, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

  Josie had responded, “It’s not like you’re ever gonna again.”

  “Great, first you’re an adulterer—now you’re a voyeur?” Josie opened the refrigerator. “I really should have taken more time to get to know you before saying, ‘I do.’”

  John laughed. Looking up momentarily from the screen, he did a not so subtle double-take when he saw Josie in her sleek suit skirt and heels, leaning over to retrieve something from the bottom shelf.

  Pulling out the blueberry bagels, Josie stood up and caught his appraising glance. With a what-are-you-looking-at stare, she said, “You mess that up, and I will take you out.”

  “I believe you would, too,” he said with a chuckle. “This is actually pretty good. I’m impressed.”

  She closed the refrigerator and turned to face him. “Damn straight,” she said, taking a smug
swig from her steaming cup.

  The phone rang. Josie felt a little uneasy when John continued to watch her as she moved across the kitchen to answer.

  “Hello… Hey, Momma.”

  “Jocelyn, I’m not going to be able to pick up the kids today. I’ve been throwing-up all night and I still feel sick.”

  Josie’s face dropped. “But, Momma, I have a trial today and Beth has—”

  “Baby, there’s just no way—”

  “Well, how nauseated are you?” Josie’s brow tightened while she nervously bit her bottom lip. “Where am I supposed to find somebody else?”

  “I still have chills and I feel like hell.” She sighed. “What about Lydia?”

  “No, Momma, Lydia can’t. You’re supposed to drop the twins—”

  “Well, those little monsters aren’t even my kin, and—”

  “I know they aren’t your kin, but—”

  “Jocelyn, honey, I really can’t today. Besides, you don’t want me infecting your children, do you?”

  Josie thought about how Beth hadn’t been feeling well last night and had wanted to be held for two hours. “All right, I’ll see what I can do. Feel better.”

  After hanging up, she stared, bewildered, at the floor, her teeth cutting deep into her bottom lip.

  “I can see by the way you’re torturing that lip you have a problem,” John said.

  She looked at him. “Momma’s supposed to pick up the kids today for me, but…” Josie didn’t finish—she was trying to figure out who she could call.

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I ’spose,” Josie said. Preoccupied, she tried not to panic while racking her overtaxed psyche to come up with an alternate plan.

  “I can clear my afternoon,” John offered casually, focusing back on the laptop. “I can do it.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think you can—it’s a lot of back and forth and such. Beth has dress rehearsal for dance—”

  John shrugged. “How hard can it be?” He squinted at the screen and tapped a few more keys. “Just leave me a schedule.”

  How hard can it be? Josie thought, you have no idea. Then she thought again—He has no idea! A wicked smile tugged at her lips as she contemplated the ramifications of the decision she was about to make. I shouldn’t…should I? Oh yeah, I definitely should!