A Woman Ignored (A Woman Lost Book 2)

by T. B. Markinson

  “Lizzie”—Sarah took my hand in hers—“I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe I should be flattered that you think I still have enough game for Jasmine.” I glanced down at my waistline. With everything going on, although I still took a bike ride each day, it was a short one, not my usual twenty miles. It was definitely showing.

  “I’m going to talk to Dr. Marcel,” Sarah said, gazing at me hopefully, as though she hoped I’d forgotten what just transpired.

  “Really? What do you intend to say: don’t accept graduate students who are attractive? I go to universities all of the time to give lectures. Do you think the entire audience is made up of old men in tweed jackets with elbow patches?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly how I picture it, plus a few old maids.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is that how you picture me?”

  “On the outside, no. But you can be a bit stuffy.”

  “I’m meeting Jasmine in two weeks—am I still stuffy?” I couldn’t help needling her a little.

  “We should have her over for dinner?”

  “After your performance today, I doubt she’ll want to see you again. Hell, she’ll probably cancel on me.” I poured hot water into the cups. Sarah didn’t ask for tea, but it was my peace offering.

  “Good. Mission accomplished,” Sarah pouted resolutely.

  “I was at Bed Bath & Beyond this morning, would you like to see what I bought?” I wanted to change the subject, knowing it would go nowhere. It was also possible that I wanted to make her feel worse about the situation.

  “You went shopping? And at Bed Bath & Beyond?” She pinned me with a skeptical scowl as she added milk to her tea.

  “Please don’t hint that I was having another liaison. You only get one false accusation per year.”

  She saluted me. “So, why were you there, then?”

  “I had an early lunch with Maddie, and she needed to pop in there for work. I really didn’t have a choice.”

  She nodded, understanding.

  I’m not the shopping type. Sarah bought all of my clothes for me during her weekend shopping sprees with her mom. Those two were born shoppers. Me, I despised it.

  “Can you stop judging me for one second and follow me?” I led her to our spare bedroom, which we’d planned to turn into a nursery. “Now, I know I probably should have waited for you, but I saw this and I thought it was adorable.” The zoo animal wall decals were propped against the far wall. “I haven’t put them on yet, but what do you think?”

  Sarah put her hand to her mouth. When she could finally speak, she said, “You picked this out‌…‌on your own? Or did Maddie?”

  “It was me. If you don’t like them, I saved the receipt.” I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice.

  “Like them‌…‌I love them!”

  I grinned. I’d made sure the animals weren’t blue or pink, since we didn’t know what sex our child would be, and Sarah was adamant about creating a gender-neutral environment. The giraffe, elephant, and hippo were lilac, purple, and aqua respectively. I was disappointed that the decals didn’t include an otter.

  “Oh, Lizzie. I’m so sorry.”

  “What do you mean? Won’t these work on our walls?” I lifted the packaging to read the instructions.

  “Not that. I’m sorry I was so rude to Jasmine. Here you were, shopping for the nursery earlier today.”

  I smiled and wrapped my arms around her. “You have nothing to worry about, Sarah. But, it does mean you have to take me to dinner to make up for it.”

  Even though we had a kitchen most chefs would love, we hardly ever cooked. I was home all day, but no one wanted to eat my cooking. Sarah was usually too tired from teaching and coaching to want to cook.

  She rested her head against my chest. “It’s a deal.” She pulled away from me. “But will you still find me attractive when I’m as large as a house?”

  “You’ll be even more beautiful.” I smiled. “Hey, Jasmine mentioned she needed a part-time job. Maybe she can be our nanny,” I teased, ducking away carefully so I wouldn’t spill my tea when she whacked me in the side.

  “Stop hitting me and take me to dinner.” I kissed Sarah’s forehead. “What happened at work today?”

  Her expression clouded over. “I’ll tell you over dinner. Okay if Maddie and Doug join us?”

  I nodded. “Wow, Doug is like her shadow these days. She never spent that much time with Peter.”

  “She really likes him. After being with your brother, who was never around, I think she likes being in a real relationship.”

  “Or she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. Are all of you women so mistrustful?”

  Sarah didn’t dignify that comment with a response. “Go shower. You look like hell.”

  I laughed. “First you accuse me of having an affair. Now you’re telling me I look like hell. You need to make up your mind, missy.”

  Sarah shucked her skirt and tugged her shirt over her head. She shook her head, tousling her hair, eyes lowered. I eyed her crimson bra and panties.

  I started to speak, but her lips were on mine in a shot. Her tongue darted into my mouth, while she peeled my shirt up, pushing away from me briefly to get it off completely. Not wanting to make love to her in the future nursery, I led her to our bedroom, leaving a trail of bras and panties behind us.

  We fell on the bed, naked, Sarah’s urgency apparent. I eased inside her as she again smothered my mouth with hers. I wasn’t sure whether it was her earlier fear, or whether something else had happened, but I sensed Sarah needed to feel sexy, needed me to make love to her. And I was more than willing.

  * * *

  “It’s unlike you to be late.” Maddie’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile as Sarah and I slid into the booth across from her.

  “Hello, troublemaker,” I said. I turned to Doug and nodded. He reciprocated.

  “Lizzie, you look like hell.” Maddie’s voice was full of piss and vinegar, but her eyes showed concern.

  “Funny, someone else told me that recently.” I winked at Sarah. I wanted to add before seducing me, but I thought it best to keep that to myself. Maddie was never shy about embarrassing me. Both Sarah and I had showered before leaving the house, but I imagined I could still smell her on my fingers. I brushed my fingertips over my lips, in hope of catching her scent, smiling at the memory.

  The waitress appeared to announce the nightly special: steak with blue cheese crumbles. It won me over instantly. Sarah ordered a Caesar salad, which was totally not her norm. I threw her an odd look, but said nothing.

  “So, what’s this news?” Maddie pounced, as soon as the waitress flipped her notebook shut and padded away on tiny feet. I wondered how the woman stayed erect on such silly looking feet.

  I should have known Sarah had called Maddie about whatever the heck happened to her today before she got home. It was highly unusual for her to be so rude to anyone. I still couldn’t believe the way she had acted towards Jasmine. As a peace offering, I resolved to call the poor girl in a few days’ time and check on her progress in tracking down some of the sources I had suggested.

  Sarah sat up straight in her chair and placed both hands on the table. Her posture told me that the news she was about to break was beyond upsetting. “You remember my coworker Jen, who works in the front office?”

  Maddie and I nodded. Doug cocked his head in expectation.

  “She’s bursting out to here”—Sarah indicated extreme pregnancy—“well, she went home early the other day because she wasn’t feeling well.” She leaned over the table and whispered, “She surprised her husband—fucking another woman on their couch!”

  Maddie covered her mouth. Doug’s jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to punch the husband right in the kisser.

  “Can you imagine being seven months pregnant and discovering your husband is having an affair?” Sarah collapsed back into her seat as though she’d been slugged in the face.

/>   “So that’s why you accused me of sleeping with Jasmine!” I slapped the table.

  Sarah looked away guiltily.

  “Who’s Jasmine?” Maddie said sourly, staring at me as though she was considering taking me out back and using me as a punching bag. Doug straightened in his seat, too, unsure whether he should wait for my response or be the knight in shining armor.

  “Hey now, don’t jump to any conclusions like someone else I know.” I jerked my head in Sarah’s direction. “I’m innocent, I tell you.”

  Maddie groaned.

  “What is that groan supposed to mean?” I was getting pissed all over again.

  “Come on, Lizzie. You tried to sleep with me.”

  And there it was: the elephant in the room that the three of us always avoided. It was the first time any one of us had mentioned it so blatantly in a group setting since it happened. Of course, Sarah and I talked about it in therapy‌…‌well, we danced around it, at least.

  Doug started to stand, and for a moment I thought he really was going to slug me. Maddie tugged on his arm, forcing him to sit down.

  “Thanks for that, Maddie. Much appreciated,” I smirked.

  “Can someone tell me what’s going on?” someone boomed.

  I jumped, unused to Doug’s voice sounding so manly.

  “It happened long ago,” Maddie explained.

  Doug’s jaw kept working. It didn’t satisfy him, I could see, and if I were in his shoes, I would want to know all the details as well.

  Sarah looked as if she wanted to melt into the cushions of the booth and disappear entirely.

  “I made a very stupid mistake—years ago—and I’ve been living with it ever since.”

  That got a rise out of Sarah. “Living with it! I never even mention it! I never throw it in your face.”

  I stared at her. “Until today…”

  Doug pinned Maddie with a look that said he wanted answers, right away. “Did you or did you not sleep with Lizzie? And was she dating Sarah at the time?”

  I admired his bravery, but his tone was not the way to handle Maddie.

  Maddie squared her shoulders, ready for battle. “Excuse me…” She jutted her chin out. “Who in the hell do you think you are?”

  “Hold on, everyone!” I snapped my fingers to get them all to look at me. “Let’s not drag past mistakes into the present.”

  “Shut up, Lizzie. I don’t want to hear any of your psychobabble—”

  “Hey, Lizzie has been making great strides in therapy,” Sarah came to my defense.

  “Really? Is that why you accused her of fucking someone today?” Maddie somehow managed to eye Sarah while still giving Doug a menacing glance. I wondered if doing that gave her a headache, or eyestrain at the very least.

  Diners at surrounding tables stopped talking and turned to stare at our table, some in mid-bite. One older woman left her fork dangling in front of her mouth, watching us intently as if we were a reality television show.

  Maddie cleared her throat and stared the woman down until she looked away.

  At that, the other patrons lost interest; out of fear, I guessed.

  I turned to Doug. “A few years ago, I was really lost. I know it sounds like a cliché, but I was a total mess. And I made a pass—just a pass—at Maddie. You’ll be happy to hear that Maddie slapped my face and told me what she thought of me. I now know that was my way of sabotaging my relationship with Sarah because I was scared to death of settling down. Sarah—” I turned to her, full of remorse—“left me. And it nearly killed me.” I could feel my eyes welling up. “Luckily, she was willing to give me another chance, and I will never mess up again.” I stared into Sarah’s eyes. “Never again.”

  “Then who’s Jasmine?” asked Maddie, not entirely convinced.

  “When Sarah came home today, there was a woman in our house.”

  Maddie scowled.

  “She’s a PhD student, working with my former mentor, who asked me to meet with her to help her locate sources for her dissertation. Sarah strutted in, saw me talking with a beautiful young woman, and assumed the worst.”

  Sarah smiled sheepishly. “In my defense, Jasmine is hot as shit.”

  I shrugged, conceding the point. “And she’s engaged. How did you not notice the huge diamond on her finger? It’s bigger than yours.” I pointed to Sarah’s ring finger.

  Maddie pulled her cell phone out of her back jeans pocket. “What’s her last name?”

  “No idea. Why?”

  “I’m looking her up.” Her crinkled brow said duh.

  “Can’t be too many PhD candidates named Jasmine on the school’s website.”

  Maddie snapped her fingers. “Good thinking!” Several seconds later, she uttered, “Whoa!”

  Doug whipped the phone away from her and held it in front of his face. He briefly flashed me a look that was all conquering hero.

  “You see!” declared Sarah.

  Doug and Maddie both nodded.

  “So, Maddie, if you came home and Doug was sitting down having tea with Jasmine, would your first thought be, ‘That bastard!’”

  Doug leaned closer to Maddie, eyebrows raised.

  “Here ya go,” the waitress interrupted. She plunked her tray down on a stand her coworker had set up and started to dish out the meals.

  “Ha! Saved by steak.” I winked at Maddie.

  Doug’s determined smile suggested he’d get his answer later that night anyway.

  Chapter Eleven

  Summer passed quickly, and I stepped out of my house one morning to find myself shocked by the crisp fall air. How had I missed an entire season? Not once had Sarah and I ventured out to our cabin in Idaho. Usually, we spent several summer weeks up there during her school break. My thirty-first birthday slipped by almost unnoticed by me.

  With fall came another check-up for Mom. Once again, I found myself waiting in the oncologist’s office while my mother was in the back, hopefully hearing encouraging news—not that I ever knew what was said. Usually, my stony-faced mother sauntered out from behind the door and then strode right for the exit. She didn’t even bother saying my name or anything. I had to keep an eye out for her, bolting up as soon as I caught a glimpse of her navy suit whisking by.

  This time, I saw the door open slightly. A pause. Maybe the person behind the door had dropped something and leaned down to get it, or maybe a nurse had called out to the patient to say something. Or maybe someone just wasn’t ready to face the world outside yet.

  Filled with dread, I couldn’t take my eyes off the door. Then it opened forcefully and an elderly gentleman ambled out, heading straight for the exit. He looked defeated. I’m not the religious type, but I said a small prayer for him. A woman followed him, moving as though the world was rubble around her feet. Which one received the news? I wondered.

  I sat there, contemplating what would be harder: hearing that I had cancer or hearing that Sarah did? Actually, that was a no-brainer. I would never want Sarah to suffer. I said another prayer. If one of us is struck, let it be me.

  Finally, my frail mother appeared. This time, she paused and stared at me, her face slack with an expression I couldn’t make out. She flashed the tiniest of smiles. And then—poof!—it was gone. I wondered if I imagined it in the first place. Mom marched to the exit, and I followed dutifully, feeling slightly relieved.

  When I dropped her off at her house, she mentioned that my dad would be away on business over the weekend.

  “If you don’t have plans, why don’t you come by on Saturday, for lunch? Bring that girl with you.”

  Before I could answer yes or no, Mom pranced up the staircase to her front door, moving with a lightness I had never seen before.

  That girl. My wife.

  I wasn’t sure whether to be angry or happy. It was the first time Mom had ever asked any of my partners over. Sarah had been to my brother’s house on a few occasions, but she had never set foot in my
parents’ home.

  That girl!

  I started laughing so hard I had to pull off the highway. Then, inexplicably, tears started falling from my eyes. Something told me Mom’s smile wasn’t one of victory, but of relief.

  Was it over?

  And if it was, what: the battle, or the treatments?

  * * *

  Ever since we’d bought our house, I’d spent most of my days in my office, which doubled as the library. When we started house hunting for the second time, after Sarah forgave me, I took it more seriously than the first. Before the whole Maddie situation, Sarah had wanted us to buy a house, but I was too chickenshit to tell her I wasn’t ready to take that step. Instead, every time we went looking, I found something wrong with the house. Sarah had assumed I was being overly picky because I wanted our house to be perfect.

  When we officially began looking the second time, I had a different goal: to rein in Sarah’s desire to spend money, too much money. Yes, we both had trust funds, but I didn’t think we should spend willy-nilly. I wanted a relatively small home with no extra bedrooms. Guest bedrooms invited visitors, and I liked my space. Sarah said she agreed, so the first couple of weeks we saw only average-sized homes.

  Then I noticed something. Sarah kept inviting me to used bookstores with her, helping me track down wonderful leather-bound editions of classics.

  Her explanation was simple, “We can’t have a house filled with just Nazi books. The first time I visited your apartment I was terrified by all the swastikas on the shelves. I thought I’d walked into some type of serial-killer trap.”

  I laughed. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

  She had placed a loving hand on my shoulder. “We don’t want people thinking you’re a Neo-Nazi and socially awkward.”

  “So, just socially awkward is okay?” I asked.

  “Not much I can change about that. It is your personality,” she retorted, with a wink.

  At first, I loved the shopping excursions, which was saying a lot, since I loathed shopping. Then I noticed a second trend. The more books we bought, the bigger the houses we visited. At first they weren’t substantially larger, but they gradually started getting out of my comfort zone. Each time, Sarah found something wrong with the house.