by Ford, Julie
“Is it working?” John asked, with a devious smile. “You can buy a new dress and shoes.” Letting out a sigh, he dropped the folly and reiterated. “I really want you there; you’re my wife and…” He didn’t finish.
Still suspicious that he was playing her for a fool, Josie said, “Well, in that case how can I refuse?” while planning to buy the most expensive dress and shoes she could find.
Chapter 14
Careful not to muss the most amazing up-do Josie had ever seen, she eased her new dress over her head. It hadn’t been the most expensive dress she’d considered, but when she’d slipped it on and saw the way the smooth chocolate fabric swept the floor and how the empire waist, cap sleeves, and beading accentuated her figure, she’d known this was the one.
Reaching to the side, she experienced trouble pulling up the zipper and turning to her reflection in the closet mirror, she saw that the dress had somehow become too snug around the bosom.
Spinning from side to side in confusion, she pressed her breasts down, attempting to tuck them in.
“It didn’t fit this tight in the store less than a week ago,” she puzzled. But it was too late to change to another dress, and besides, she didn’t want to wear anything else. As she took one last look, her gaze was drawn from her reflection to rest on John’s side of the closet. Her heart sank as she took in the void. It was practically empty now; only odds and ends remained. Josie sighed, gazing, forlorn, at the emptiness.
“Momma, do you like this color?” Beth called from the bathroom counter where she’d perched herself, “helping” Josie get ready for the big night.
“Wow, we’re going to have to take this down a notch,” Josie said, when her eyes met Beth’s in the mirror. She tried not to laugh on seeing that Beth had also smeared her expensive Chanel eye shadow across her lids, in a bright sparkling blue.
Pressing a tissue to her preschooler’s lips, Josie advised, “A lady always blots so her lipstick doesn’t end up all over her teeth.” Her cell rang and she knew it was work. Brian and Sandra never took a day off, not even Saturday night. On the other end, Sandra—not Brian since he was mad at Josie for playing the dutiful wife this evening—had a few questions that couldn’t wait.
* * * *
“Daddy, Daddy, don’t I look perty?” Beth sang as she skipped down the hall and out into the family room. Checking his watch, John looked up, and then hid his shock at seeing his little angel looking unusually wicked.
“Wow, baby girl, you sure do,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “Where’s your momma? We’re going to be late.”
“On the phone with work,” Beth said, pouting and rolling her eyes. John’s face fell—he was sure it was Josie’s daily contact with Brian that had thwarted his efforts at reconciliation. What is Josie’s relationship with Brian? Is she sleeping with him?
Pensively, Beth looked into her daddy’s eyes and knew to add, “Sandra.”
“File every motion you can think of. Cover ’em up in paper work,” Josie said as she hurried past John. His jaw dropped open as he took in her dress, her breasts moving gently beneath the thin fabric and spilling over seductively along the sparkling trim. Her hair was in soft sexy spirals, pulled up and glittering with rhinestones. A few tendrils fell loose to tease her neck. It had been hard enough to keep his hands off her the last month or so—now he worried that tonight, maintaining a comfortable distance would be next to impossible.
Josie was still intent on the phone call. “…Then make some up. Honestly, Sandra, do I know? Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” Josie didn’t even say goodbye; she just snapped the phone shut and cast it away, letting it disappear onto the couch.
* * * *
An old Antebellum mansion served as the backdrop for the formal. Josie stood in the ballroom surrounded by hundreds of other women in beautiful dresses being escorted by men in handsome tuxedos. Balloons clung to the white and gold ornate ceiling above a grand balcony that circled the entire room. A few minutes ago, John was called up to the podium to await the start of the awards ceremony. All in all the evening hadn’t been overly tortuous. Keeping a hand on Josie’s waist the entire night, John had kept her close, introducing her proudly to politicians—most of whom she couldn’t have cared less about meeting—friends and colleagues.
From somewhere in the crowd, Josie heard a familiar voice calling her name. Amy! Searching the throngs of faces, she finally caught a glimpse of Amy pushing her way through. They met with a hug, giggling like grade school girls who’d just reunited after a long summer. Both busy working mothers, they hadn’t had time to have lunch, shop, or golf since returning from the Caribbean.
“Look at you—that dress is amazing,” Josie said, eyeing Amy’s floor-length deep blue and silver beaded gown.
“Me? What about you? Brown’s very chic. And that neckline—I bet John can’t keep his eyes off you,” Amy said. Then her smile dropped as she looked across the room. “Have you seen Trisha?”
“No, but I talked to Denton,” Josie said, following Amy’s gaze. “He can’t believe I am letting John take all the credit for the whole bus thing. But I don’t really care.”
Josie stopped talking when Amy leaned close and spoke in a hushed voice. “Patrick thinks Trisha’s the one who’s been leaking things about you to the press.” She glared at Trisha who was dressed in a black shimmering dress cut down to her navel, and hanging onto some rich banker. One of the Belles took the stand, introducing John, while Amy continued, saying, “He wants John to fire her, but he won’t.” Josie started to say something, but Amy just kept talking. “John’s afraid she’ll do something irrational.”
“Why would she try to derail his campaign now?”
“Because John’s spending so much time at home, and Patrick said he hardly gives her the time of day anymore. I mean, think about it—the information leaked wasn’t enough to really hurt the campaign, just enough to annoy John where you’re concerned.”
Josie was still confused. Why would Trisha want to sabotage the campaign or me when she was about to get everything she wanted? That is, after John wins, and we divorce. But then it occurred to Josie that maybe John hadn’t said anything to any of them about the divorce.
“I know what he did with Trisha was inexcusable and all, but I think he really loves you,” Amy said with a supportive smile. “I’m glad to see you’re giving him a second chance.”
“But—” was all Josie got out before the room erupted with applause.
Behind the podium, John accepted his plaque and spoke into the microphone. “I’d like to thank all the Belles for considering me for such a distinguished award. But I can’t in good conscience accept it.” John paused while gasps were heard around the room. “You see, my wife, Jocelyn, is the one who…who went into that bus first. She’s the one who didn’t hesitate, the one who breathed life into a dying man.” Scanning the crowd, he spied Josie. “Baby, why don’t you come on up here?”
Josie’s eyes grew round.
Amy whispered in her ear, “See, I told you,” and pushed Josie forward.
“Also, Dr. Denton Andrews, Amy, and Patrick Roberts, my brother who isn’t here tonight.” Andy was home with Lydia after her implant surgery. “Y’all come up too.”
The room became unnaturally quiet while everyone made their way tentatively to the podium. When Josie got to John and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her affectionately on the cheek, the crowd began clapping and cheering. And, just like that, John’s hero status was elevated to saint.
A bright flash and Josie could finally release her insincere smile. How many more pictures do I have to endure? She groaned. Then the band started up again playing a familiar tune—“You’ve Got A Friend”—and her palms started to sweat.
“Come on, let’s dance.” John pulled her out to the dance floor. Before she had a chance to protest, he’d enveloped her in his arms. His fingers gently caressed the small of her back while his gaze locked with hers. As if no time had passed—exce
pt that she was three pounds heavier. Okay, five. Eight—Josie found herself looking into John’s emerald eyes, and at the same seductive expression he’d worn more than a decade ago. Afraid that he might try to kiss her, and that she’d be powerless to resist him again, Josie turned away, resting her cheek on his shoulder instead. But looking away didn’t help. Swaying easily to the music, Josie felt her body melting into John’s as he accepted hers, until she couldn’t tell where her body stopped and his started.
“We can still make our marriage work, you know,” he said, as the song started to wind down.
“Marriage?” Josie questioned, peeling herself back to look up at him. “Let’s see.” She counted off on her fingers. “We have no communication, no friendship, and no trust. Doesn’t sound like there’s much marriage left to save.”
“We’re still attracted to each other,” he said with a coy smile. Josie raised her eyebrows in jest and he changed his tactic. “And we have three pretty amazing children who deserve to have both parents living under the same roof.”
Josie had been considering the children herself, a lot lately. How could she tell them she didn’t want their father to live with them anymore? Was it fair to them to end her marriage with out even trying to work things out, especially when John seemed so willing to do so? But she knew that taking John back wasn’t a decision she could come to right now. Especially after the way he humbly set the record straight about the bus accident and then, standing this close to him, encased in his arms, his stare boring into hers and this song—everything seemed oddly staged.
John stared down at Josie, clearly waiting for a reply. But before she had a chance to answer, the song ended and as if on cue, Trisha appeared at John’s side.
“Excuse me, John. I need you to come with me for a moment.” She tapped on his shoulder. “It’ll just take a sec,” she added, with a wrinkle of her nose. John released Josie and Trisha scanned her dress. “Wow, Jocelyn you look great! Have you had some work done?”
Josie’s eyes hardened to thin angry slits.
John stepped in front of her. “Easy, Darlin’, now’s not the time.” He steadied Josie with a stern look.
Trish gave Josie a look of triumph as she reiterated, “It’ll only take a tiny sec and then he’s all yours again. I promise.” She hooked her arm with his.
John looked down at their interlocking arms and blew out a sigh. “I’ll be right back,” he said, “and don’t go far; we still have a conversation to finish.”
Josie felt her anger mount as she watched her husband disappear into the crowd with his mistress.
Amy touched her shoulder. “What did Trisha want?”
Prepared to spout a plethora of unladylike obscenities, Josie’s vehemence gave way to a sudden onset of lightheadedness and she grabbed onto Amy’s arm for support.
“Are you all right?”
“All of a sudden I don’t feel so good.” Beads of perspiration were forming on Josie’s brow and her breathing had become shallow.
“Do you need something to drink, or eat?”
“No!” Josie protested. The thought of food made her stomach turn. “Maybe I just need to splash some cold water on my face.”
Following a little pink sign with a silhouette of a woman, they turned a corner entering a secluded hallway and ran into something they hadn’t expected. With a gasp, they both stepped back.
In the middle of the corridor, a man leaned against a woman, his hands bracing against the wall, the woman holding tight to his lapels as her leg snaked around his hip. Josie released a shriek but pulled it quickly back.
John broke away from Trisha’s lips and turned his stunned eyes to Josie. “What are you doing up here? Are you following me?”
Josie felt the blood drain from her face before rising back red hot as she spit, “We came up here to use the ladies room and instead we got a show.”
Trisha’s face pulsated with the same self-satisfied smirk she’d worn that night at the beach.
Josie felt humiliated all over again. “Don’t let us interrupt. Just as I suspected—nothing much has changed.” Holding back the tears of disappointment gathering in the corners of her eyes, Josie shot John a scathing stare before taking hold of Amy and turning to escape.
“Jocelyn!” John called after her. “Stop! This isn’t what it looks like.” Catching her by the arm, he spun her around. “Hold up just a minute.”
Josie yanked her arm away.
“It wasn’t me, it was her,” he said, pointing at Trisha, who pulled an insincere pout.
Josie would have liked nothing more than to relieve Trisha of that smug expression on her face, but her mother had raised her better. Insults or physical violence would only reduce her to Trisha’s level—a position Josie hoped never to inhabit.
“I’m not a complete fool, John!” she shouted while regarding Trisha with disdain. Amy tugged on her arm. She spurned Trisha’s gaze and turned to leave.
Her heart was racing and her legs were turning to mush beneath her as her shoes caught on the carpet. In the distance, she could hear John exclaiming, “You’re fired!” And Trisha protesting, “You can’t fire me!”
Then the sound of John’s feet hitting the floor, as he ran after her, fell in rhythm with the intense pounding of Josie’s heart.
Moving in front of her, he blocked her retreat. “Jocelyn, you have to believe me! I don’t know what happened just now, but I want nothing to do with that woman.”
Josie didn’t know what shocked her more, the fact that John had come after her, or that he expected her to believe him. “I know what I saw; now get out of my way. I just want to get home to my children.” She felt as though her empty stomach wanted to purge her soul of the repugnance she felt after catching her husband kissing another woman.
“The kids aren’t at home,” he said. “They’re at my momma’s.”
“Why, are they—”
“I wanted—hoped—that we could spend some time together. Just the two of us.” Eyes pleading, he asked, “Please Jocelyn, you’ve got to believe me. Before I knew what was happening, she just grabbed my jacket, started…” He let out a sigh and looked truly repentant. “Just let me say a few goodbyes, and I’ll take you straight home. I promise.”
* * * *
Josie breathed a sigh of relief after stepping into the security of her own kitchen. Right on her heels, John ducked around her and over to the refrigerator. She wanted him out, but before she could say so, John pulled out a bottle of champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries.
“What’s that?” Josie asked, unable to believe he was still trying.
“It was supposed to be our celebration. Come on, Jocelyn, have a drink and let’s talk. Just talk, I promise.” He waved the strawberries under her nose. “They’re dark chocolate, your favorite.” His green eyes sparkled playfully—irresistibly.
Reason told her not to trust him while the steady beating of her heart wanted to give him a chance. Her feet and back started to ache and she knew she was too exhausted to hold her anger. “I don’t suppose you have a hotdog with mustard and dill pickle relish, do you?” Josie said flatly although her stomach was completely serious.
Kicking off her shoes, Josie tucked her feet beneath her as she settled onto the couch. John ceremoniously popped the cork and poured her a bubbling glass. The bubbles tickled her nose playfully—the champagne was like a little piece of heaven in her mouth.
After pouring himself a glass, John settled onto the couch facing Josie. “I was hoping that we could start over. Get to know each other again.”
Josie bit down on a strawberry and considered his suggestion. “You say that like we ever knew each other in the first place.” The smooth dark chocolate mixing with the tartness of the berry elevated Josie’s mood considerably.
He smiled. “We…I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Jocelyn, but marrying you and having those babies weren’t two of them.” He sipped his champagne. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Josi
e didn’t know what to say. I’ve never heard him talk like this before, or have I? Somewhere in the recesses of her mind a cool Caribbean breeze blew and she thought maybe he’d said these words before. But that was neither here nor there. Do I even want to have this conversation with John? What about Brian?
“Tell me everything,” John said. “I want to know about all your adventures, where you’ve been, what you want from life.”
Josie regarded John’s enthusiasm a moment as he waited patiently. Still unsure of where this was going, she decided to play along, tell one story. “You mean like the time Brian and I had to dress like migrant workers and sneak across the boarder to avoid being captured by the Federales?” When John looked confused, she explained, “The Mexican police.”
“Do I even want to know why you were running from the Mexican police?”
“Well, that’s the interesting part…” she began with a devilish smile.
Josie lost track of the time as they talked for hours about everything from living in China to how John had wanted to be president when he grew up—no big surprise there—and used to ask if he could go to elementary school dressed in a three-piece suit. Josie told him she wanted to travel more and use her skills as a lawyer to help people.
As the hours wore on, an affable smile grew on her lips as she watched the man she fell madly for all those years ago resurfacing before her eyes. The champagne and easy conversation calmed Josie’s nerves and she relaxed into the soft couch. As the night’s tension tried to work its way out of her neck she began twisting her head from side to side.
“Come on, turn around, let me rub your neck,” John said, scooting forward.
Knowing full well she shouldn’t, Josie turned her back to him and then melted when she felt his strong hands moving across the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders. After a few quiet minutes, John leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Did I say that you look beautiful tonight?”