by Ford, Julie
“I’m not the one who slept with Trisha!”
* * * *
The next morning, Josie staggered into the kitchen, exhausted. After her clash with John she’d tossed and turned the entire night, dreaming that she was snuggled up next to him while warm water gently fell down over them and he softly caressed her, kissing her tenderly and promising that they’d shower together more often. Only, it wasn’t like a dream with all the usual bizarre subplots, but more like a very pleasant memory.
She rubbed her blurry eyes as she reached into the cupboard for her favorite mug before noticing it sitting on the counter in front of her. Leaning out of the top, a single white Magnolia greeted her merrily. On the counter just behind, a fresh pot of hot coffee had just finished brewing. Plucking the flower from her mug, she twirled the stem between her thumb and forefinger. Josie couldn’t imagine who would have put her favorite flower… John? Out in the garage, she saw that his car was already gone for the day. A smile pulled at her lips as she held the flower to her nose before tucking it behind her ear.
The flower floated beautifully in her hair the entire day.
* * * *
White wispy clouds hid the mid-March sun as Josie looked up and attempted to warm her face, trying to muster the energy needed to finish the golf tournament. Only a day or two into spring, and Josie could feel the humidity knocking lazily at the recesses of the changing season. Winter was short-lived in central Alabama.
The last two weeks had been interesting to say the least.
“I’ve loved you for almost half my life. I don’t expect that’ll be changing anytime soon,” Brian had said. Josie felt a flutter in her chest as her lips turned up involuntarily, remembering how he’d all but ignored her for a few days after the karate incident. However, as usual, he couldn’t stay mad at her for long.
Working fulltime had been grueling with Brian’s involvement in not only legal matters, but also civic projects as well, including a new community center over in west Birmingham, and a multi-cultural center for migrant workers.
Although he hadn’t tried to kiss her again, and probably wouldn’t until John moved out for good, he was warming a bit more everyday. Just as well, Josie thought. Waiting until things were settled with John would be best for everyone.
Josie twisted her upper body from side to side, trying to work out a cramp as she and Gina waited their turn on the ninth hole.
“You feeling all right?” Gina asked, the worry apparent in her voice.
“Yeah—I’m tired and getting winded easily for some reason,” Josie said. Just over six weeks since she started to work fulltime and she worried that she’d never build up enough stamina to be super mom, ace lawyer, and whatever else. Her back hurt, her concentration was distracted, and walking the course had made her uncharacteristically winded. Even so, she and Gina were playing well and managing to maintain a steady six and seven stroke lead.
Scuffing the grass with her foot, Gina casually said, “So, you never told me what happened when you and John went home after the karate thing…when Brian threatened him.”
Josie waved her hand dismissively. She’d been brushing Gina off, not wanting to discuss the fight—but knowing Gina would keep trying, she gave in and said, “Oh, we had a big fight. But things have been better since then. He leaves work early at least three days a week to help out, has the carpool, karate, dance and basketball schedules down pat, and he especially seems to be enjoying taking Beth to dance.” She let out a chuckle before continuing.
“Apparently, now that he understands his ‘target’ audience, he’s better able to really put on the charm.” She explained to Gina how she saw one of the other moms at the Winn Dixie the other day who said, “Your husband’s truly an inspiration…he should give seminars to other men about how to be a better husband.” Josie rolled her eyes while Gina let out a little snort.
“Then, I heard John on the phone with Patrick, telling him there’s a whole demographic out there, consisting of women they’ve been underestimating. And could he come up with some concepts for a new ad directed primarily toward voters of the ‘female persuasion’?” Josie laughed. “I can just see it now, a TV ad with John officially taking the bench in nothing but a Speedo.”
“As much as I hate to say it, that would probably be effective,” Gina said. “But what happened after karate?”
“Oh, he had the nerve to suggest that all our problems are somehow my fault too. I didn’t sleep with Trisha,” Josie replied, briefly feeling irritated. Then she thought about how eager and patient John had been with Bobbie and his homework. Wonderful—except for the day Josie came home to find that John and Bobbie had built a large volcano for the science fair. For some inconceivable reason the monstrosity was in the dining room—and Beth couldn’t resist pushing the button. To Josie’s dismay, hot “lava” and mud spewed relentlessly all over her silk drapes.
“Well, you know what they say: ‘No marriage breaks up because of the actions of only one person,’” Gina said, pretending to be indifferent.
Josie called out, “Lord, have mercy! I think the ground’s going to open up and swallow us whole. Gina’s agreeing with John!”
“Well, before you start looking for flying pigs, just know I’d never agree with that man. I heard it on Dr. Phil.” Gina spit out her words before taking on a more sober tone. “Still, something to think about.”
“You’re the one who said I needed to face my problems and confront John.”
“Yeah, confront him—not divorce him.”
“But you hate him.”
“Right, but you love him. I just wanted you to be happy. Despite what most Southerners think, denial is not happiness.” She looked Josie directly in the eye. “Take it from me, after years of divorce mediation, I can tell you that ending a marriage rarely makes anyone happy, especially when there are children involved.”
Josie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “So, I’m wrong in leaving my cheating husband. I should stay with a man I don’t trust, who doesn’t love me, for the kids?”
“I’m saying that first you avoided your problems by not confronting him. Now you’re avoiding your problems by divorcing him.” Gina clicked her tongue. “Same amount of avoidance, different subject, but no resolution.” She stayed quiet for a moment before adding, “And yes, what better reason is there for working things out than for your children?”
Josie had no response to that. She hated it when Gina made so much sense, especially when her insight required intense self-examination on Josie’s part. But Josie had already done some soul-searching since that night. While there was no excuse for John’s affair, she knew that if she had it to do over again, she’d do some things different. Starting with not letting him bully her, and then not drinking to dull the pain.
“Speak of the devil—is that John over there with Dash?” Gina said, squinting against the sun. They walked over to the two men.
“What the hell’s he up to now?” Josie muttered as she edged her way carefully to the back of the tee box and over to her husband. “What are you doing here? Are the kids okay?”
John smiled warmly back at her. “They’re fine. They’re with my momma.”
“I thought you said they were fine?” Josie deadpanned.
“Very funny. I just wanted to watch you play,” he said, smiling affectionately. “Ease up on the back swing, save your energy for the follow through, and try your number two driver on this hole,” he said with a wink.
“Who are you?” Josie wanted to say but instead she simply looked him up and down before turning away without commenting.
Playing the supportive husband, John stayed at the tournament until the end. Then, he gave Josie a spontaneous hug and peck on the cheek when she and Gina were awarded with the winner’s trophy for the second year in a row.
“I’m proud of you, babe,” he whispered, holding onto her as long as possible before she finally wriggled free.
What’s gotten into him? she wondered
as she watched John make small talk with some of the tournament officials. Josie didn’t trust his sudden interest in her endeavors and subsequent displays of public affection. Is he spying on me to make sure I’m not with Brian? Maybe he’s just keeping up appearances until the election? Or, could he genuinely be interested in an event that doesn’t revolve around him?
* * * *
Out in the parking lot, Josie climbed into the van and closed the door. John had left a little while ago, leaving her and Gina to enjoy the festivities. It was dark and Josie couldn’t wait to get home, take a warm bath, and climb into bed. Checking the rearview mirror before backing up, she saw a woman staggering through the parking lot.
“Looks like someone had a few too many,” Josie muttered, “better you than me.”
After watching the woman a moment longer, alarms sounded painfully in Josie’s head when she realized the intoxicated female was no woman at all, but a wayward teenage girl being pursued by two young men, up to something nefarious, no doubt.
Ugh. Josie turned off the engine and descended back out of the van. When the teen boys saw her approaching they instinctually stiffened and assumed angelic expressions.
“What’s going on here?” Josie questioned authoritatively, suddenly noticing that the boys stood over six feet at the very least, compared to her five foot six petite frame. She wished she’d thought to call for…‘back up’.
“Nothing, we were just having a little fun,” answered a rather handsome blond, curly-headed boy in a letterman’s jacket. He let go of the girl and she fell to the curb. Josie had seen him before but couldn’t place who his parents were.
Watching the poor thing go down hard, Josie rolled her eyes. “Where are her parents?”
“She came with me,” the blond boy said.
The girl looked up through hazed eyes, asking, “What’s goin’ on, I thought we were gonna…” Her voice died away.
Josie recognized the girl’s face immediately. The teen was none other than Lori Watson’s daughter. Sighing, Josie wondered if her life could possibly get any more complicated.
“All right. You boys help me get her into my van, and maybe I won’t tell your parents what you’ve been up to.”
Shooting nervous glances back and forth, the boys hefted up their drunken friend, dragging her, as she protested malevolently, over to the van.
* * * *
About half way to Lori’s house, the girl started moaning and rolling her head back and forth on the seat. “I’m gonna be sick,” she slurred.
Oh great, Josie thought as she hit the power-down button for the passenger window. “Do it outside—” Before she could finish her words, the girl turned her head and vomited all over the side of the van. “Just keep your head out the window please. The fresh air’ll do you good.” The phrase, no good deed goes unpunished, kept playing through her head while it appeared that, somehow, this van was cursed.
After pulling up to the girl’s house, Josie held her breath so she wouldn’t heave while she opened the passenger door, unbuckled the girl, and helped her slide out and onto the driveway. Supporting the teen as best she could, Josie towed the girl up to the front door and rang the bell.
The stare from Lori’s eyes was as cold as usual when it met Josie’s. But as Josie struggled to steady the teen she watched as Lori’s face tightened into humiliation when she started to understand the reason for her visit.
Lori instructed her husband to take their drunken daughter up to bed, then she turned to Josie. Fists clenched and eyes blazing, she asked, “I’m sure you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Not exactly.” Josie thought about the half-digested food that was now dripping from her passenger door. “I have a daughter, too, you know. I’d hope you’d do the same for me if…heaven forbid.”
Through tapered eyes, Lori scrutinized Josie suspiciously before shutting the door ungratefully in her face.
Back at home, the spray from the hose chilled Josie’s bare legs as she washed her “good deed” from the side of the van. With the water, she sent the regurgitation down the drive as well. Holding her breath again to keep from vomiting, Josie thought about how Lori’s daughter was so young to be out drinking like that. What if I hadn’t been there? Children learn from their parents, don’t they? What have my children learned about drinking from watching me? She thought about her own behavior and shuddered again, now determined more than ever to set a better example from this day forward.
* * * *
Confident that a warm shower was only minutes away, Josie was surprised to hear music playing when she stepped into the house. The scent of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air. Donning oven mitts, John held warm bread wrapped in foil. “Hey, babe, you hungry?” he said, grinning proudly while kicking the oven closed with his heel.
On the counter, Beth was tossing the salad liberally, spilling a considerable amount onto the floor. “We made supper!” she exclaimed, both hands in the salad bowl. Josie cringed, hoping John had made sure she washed her hands first. In the breakfast nook, she could hear Jack and Bobbie arguing over which side of the plate the knife went on.
Josie thought she must have fallen asleep at the wheel, crashed, died, and somehow wound up in heaven. She pinched herself to be sure she was wrong. After washing up, she took her seat at the table and John set a plate down in front of her. She savored her t-bone steak as her famished body silently thanked John for cooking supper. At the other end of the table, he cut Beth’s meat into small pieces while teasing Jack—now onto his second romance of the fifth grade—about being a lady’s man. “A chip off the old block,” he said proudly. Josie thought about protesting, but her family seemed content at the moment, and she couldn’t bear to disturb the tranquility. How many years have I wished for a supper just like this one?
When the plates had been cleared, the kitchen straightened, and the kids were in bed, Josie watched John as he set the leftovers in the refrigerator and closed the door. She hated to admit it, but she’d really enjoyed having him around lately—feeling like a “real” family. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she rubbed her shoulders, remembering how it felt when he’d embraced her in the winner’s circle earlier today.
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” Josie said, exhausted from the day—from the conflicting emotions waging war inside her.
She was ready for a shower, but John wanted to talk.
“Next week the Belles of the Confederacy are having their annual formal and award ceremony,” he announced—like Josie should care. “Guess who they’re honoring as man of the year?” he continued with a sly grin. “Yours truly, and I need you to go with me.”
“Really?” Josie gave him a skeptical look. “And when did you become acquainted with the Belles?”
“The dance studio. Some of the moms are members of the board.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “They asked me since I’m a ‘hero’ and the perfect husband—at least they think so,” he said, his cheeks reddening. “But it’s really because their original nominee got into some kind of scandalous legal trouble.”
Josie felt her guard re-solidifying. “So that’s what this is all about?” Her words oozed contempt. “Buttering me up so I’ll go with you? The perfect husband couldn’t possibly show up without a wife.”
John’s shoulders fell. “Not exactly. I’m just glad you’re letting me help out around here. I like it, being home, spending time with the kids and all.”
“Like you couldn’t have helped out before?”
“You always wanted everything a certain way with the kids. It seemed like I never did anything right.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “After a while, I just stopped trying.”
Of course she wanted—no needed—his help. Josie’s first instinct was to blast him, and she took a moment to decide which “choice” words to call him first. But then, something in his eyes told her he truly had felt excluded all these years. Scanning the recesses of her memory, Josie
realized something for the first time…
“It was easier for me to just do it. Besides I didn’t know what I was doing myself. I didn’t know how to be a mom,” she said. Her voice trembled slightly with the recollection of how inept she’d felt as a young mother. She wondered how many women have criticized their husband’s efforts to lend a hand only to spend the rest of their marriage complaining that he didn’t help. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t need you.”
“Maybe I pushed you into motherhood before you were ready,” he said with obvious regret.
Now Josie was really suspicious. If he’s playing the martyr, he deserves an Academy Award. He can’t be for real. Can he? But, deep down, she knew he was right, whether he truly meant it or not. Her heart started to ache for what could have been, if she’d stood up for herself in the first place. She should have insisted that they wait to have children. How long am I going to keep blaming John, before accepting responsibility for my share of our problems?
“I should have said something… I should have told you how I felt, made sure you were listening, that you heard me.” Josie swallowed her pride, choking as it went down.
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“I don’t know. I just wanted you to be happy…for our marriage to work. I wan…” I wanted you to love me, she started to say, but the words got caught in her throat.
“Well, whether you were ready or not, you’ve done a great job.” Reaching his hand out to take hers, he stopped before touching her and Josie found herself wishing he hadn’t. “We have some pretty amazing kids,” he said.
Josie began to feel uncomfortable with the tone this conversation was taking. She was afraid that at any minute she might throw her arms around his neck, apologizing for…something. “Boy, you’re really turning ‘it’ on, aren’t you? You must really want me to go,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.