When You Were Mine

by Jackie Olson

  WHEN YOU WERE MINE

  JACKIE OLSON

  Chapter 1

  I have always thought myself a relatively perceptive woman. While discretion might not be my spiritual gift, things do not often slide by me. Maybe it comes from having two kids. Being a mom makes you learn how to tell a kid’s lie from the truth in a heartbeat. But somehow, I never suspected a thing that weekend in late September.

  It was Friday afternoon, and Oliver, my eleven-year-old, had a soccer tournament that weekend. Because my husband is pastor of the church, he begged off saying his sermon was not close to being ready, and the quiet time would be perfect to finish it. We were going to leave right after I picked the kids up from school, stay in a hotel in Wilmington, and watch Oliver’s tournament the next day. Even if they won the tournament and went to the final round, we should be on the road by 8pm Saturday night in time to get home for church Sunday morning.

  I checked both of my kids’ bags and put them in the car. I had mine, and it looked like we were ready to go. “Scott!” I called after I had loaded the van. He didn’t answer, so I went up to find him getting ready to take a shower. “Hey, baby, I’m leaving now.”

  “Okay, Eileen, have a good trip,” Scott said. He came over and embraced me. I kissed him, lingering on the taste of his lips and smiling as we pulled back.

  “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” I said.

  Scott pulled me into another kiss. “Good, that’s exactly what I want. Now, go ahead, so you arrive in time for that first game tonight.”

  “I’ll be in contact with you,” I said. “I’ll let you know if Oliver’s team goes all the way to the championship or not.”

  “I’ll be waiting to hear about it,” Scott replied.

  I gave him one last kiss on the cheek then surveyed our nearly spotless bedroom to make sure I had not left anything behind. I have a really bad habit of checking and re-checking behind myself. With everything in order, I stopped by the middle school first and got Oliver, then we picked up Madison early. My little second-grader climbed into the van and smiled sweetly.

  “Hi, Mommy!”

  “Hey, baby, get in your car seat, and let’s get going.”

  “Did you get my suitcase?”

  “Yes,” I replied, watching in the rearview mirror as she buckled herself into her booster seat. “Ready, Oliver?”

  “Ready to win!” Oliver said, pumping his fist in the air. Seriously, my two kids are so loveable, and I couldn’t imagine a happier family. We’re really lucky, because Scott is a great father. He gets out there and plays soccer with Oliver. He even learned how to braid hair just for Madison.

  “Let’s get down the road, so you can win!” I cheered. Madison high-fived her brother, and we started our two-hour road trip.

  In reality, the weekend was amazing. Oliver’s team got all the way to the final round, where they lost. I thought Oliver might be upset about this (he is very competitive), but he was excited just because he got a medal. Madison had been a sweetheart the whole day, making friends this way and that. I wished Scott could be there so he could enjoy the moment as Oliver took the picture with his team and their small trophy. Oliver came over and showed me the medal.

  “Momma, look!”

  “I know, big boy! You got yourself a medal! You were really running out there.”

  “Yeah, but next time, I’m going to hustle even faster, so we can get first.”

  “There is always room to get better,” I added.

  “Can we go home now?” Madison asked, whiny after a long day in the hot sun.

  I nodded and hugged her to me. “We’re going to go home right now. Let’s get in the van, and I’ll call your daddy. You can talk to him, Oliver, and tell him all about it.”

  The first sign of trouble came when I called, and Scott didn’t answer. He always answers his phone, because we never can tell when it is an emergency for a congregation member.

  “It seems like Daddy is busy right now,” I said, putting my cell phone aside and buckling up. “We’ll try again later. If we can’t reach him, he’ll be there when we get home.”

  I started the drive back home, and it seemed to take longer than it should have. I hate driving at night, so maybe that just made it seem worse. I tried to call Scott after a half hour, but he still didn’t answer. I was starting to get worried. Madison fell asleep long before we reached home. While Oliver wasn’t asleep, his eyes were almost closed. I snapped a picture of my sleeping daughter then carried her inside the house, looking for Scott. I didn’t dare call out for fear of waking Madison. I quickly deposited her in her bed then went to find Scott.

  He appeared suddenly out of the kitchen. “Hey! It’s great to see you again!”

  “Hey,” I said, hugging him but confused. “Why didn’t you answer you phone?”

  “Oh, I just saw that you called. I was busy, emergency stuff, you know. Anyway, where’s Oliver?”

  “He went up to his room,” I said, pointing up the stairs. I went outside to bring the bags inside. I was tired to the bone, and I didn’t even attempt to take a shower before I fell into the bed. I wanted to probe more into Scott’s strange behavior, but it just wasn’t worth it right then.

  Sunday was an amazing, family filled day as it always was. Scott gave a great sermon, and things got right back on track. It wasn’t until I was cleaning the house on Monday that I noticed something strange. It wasn’t strange as in ‘Oliver forgot to take out the trash’ but strange as in a bright red thong. I don’t wear thongs.

  Chapter 2

  I held up the thong and examined it as my heart started sinking. How could that have gotten behind the couch? It hadn’t been here last week. I clean the house every Monday.

  “Scott,” I said softly. I knew it could only mean one thing, and I didn’t want to think about it. Scott was the perfect husband. He was the perfect father and the pastor of our church. Surely he hadn’t cheated. My mind scrambled for another reason. Maybe, for some reason, some people, like a couple, had come over and done something.

  On the couch?! My mind screamed. In the pastor’s house?! No way!

  “Scott cheated on me,” I whimpered, throwing the thong on the ground. “My husband, the pastor, cheated on me.”

  I sat down and buried my face in my hands. I cried like I haven’t cried since my dad died of cancer three years ago. Scott was my best friend. I told him everything. I trusted him completely. Surely, I was jumping to conclusions. I should trust him. He had always been faithful through fifteen years of marriage. He studied the Bible and was the best spiritual leader I knew!

  I picked up my phone and wiped my tears away. I knew he was at the church, and I wasn’t going to go storming in there. He normally didn’t come home until four or five o’clock, but I had to talk to him right then, before the kids got home.

  “Hello,” Scott’s familiar voice answered.

  “Hi, Sweetie,” I said, trying to keep the sobs out of my voice.

  “What’s going on?” Scott asked. “I’m giving a marriage counseling class right now.”

  Those words made me break down in tears again.

  “What’s wrong? Eileen? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “When you finish your class,” I managed to choke out. “Can you come home?”

  “I’ll come right now,” Scott said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just finish your meeting first,” I begged, hoping to have some time to compose myself. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Scott said goodbye, and I hung up. I wiped my tears away and rinsed my face at the sink. Scott had seemed just as caring as he always was. He hadn’t seemed like he was the kind of man who cheated. Then, I broke into sobs again. How many times had this happened? Had he
really had sex with the woman? Or was it. . .I didn’t want to continue down that path, and I went upstairs to my comforter: the Bible. I just held the book closer and asked God for wisdom. I asked Him to show me the truth and to comfort me.

  I heard Scott get home half an hour later, so I waited up in the bedroom, knowing he would come find me. Sure enough, in just a few moments, he burst through the half-open door.

  “Eileen, what happened?” Scott said, coming over and standing next to me.

  “How did a thong get behind our couch?” I asked, my eyes meeting his.

  Scott immediately glanced away. “So that’s where it went,” he muttered.

  My grip on the Bible tightened. “Please answer my question.”

  “Look, Eileen, I would totally be thinking the same thing if I was you, but I just want you to slow down. I know you’re jumping to conclusions. If you think that I have done something, then you’re wrong.”

  “You didn’t sleep with anyone?” I sat up as hope filled my eyes. Could it be possible?

  Scott shook his head.

  I let out a huge breath. “So, what happened?” I asked.

  “I’m not going to give you names,” Scott said, “because I think at this point, it’s probably best we pretend that nothing happened. But I was, um, trying to make some dinner. I wanted to surprise you, but it didn’t turn out well.” A whispery smile broke out on my face. My husband can really be a klutz when it comes to cooking.

  “So, when I realized I couldn’t do it, I thought it would be a good idea for one of the girls from the church to come over and cook it instead. I know she’s a good cook, and I told her I would pay her.”

  My stomach instantly tightened as I tried to think of a list of women in the church who could cook. “So, she came over,” Scott continued, pausing to sit down on the bed and put his arm around me. I pressed my face against his chest and noticed that his heart was beating quickly. I guess it’s not every day your wife thinks you are cheating on her.

  “When she came over, I told her I was going to be in the living room on my laptop. I told her to let me know if she needed anything, then I went to the living room to work. I heard something close by a few minutes later, and she was in that. . .thing.”

  My stomach dropped as I pulled back to look Scott in the face. He looked nervous and awkward. I tried to imagine what that must have been like for him to see some other woman wearing a thong. I felt jealous, even though Scott hadn’t done anything.

  “So, I was surprised for a couple seconds, like what was happening, you know?”

  “She only had the thong on?” I asked, wanting to know, yet not wanting to know.

  Scott shook his head. “She was wearing a top. Anyway, she came over to me and started, you know, talking and acting like she was going to seduce me. She was seducing me. I told her I wasn’t interested, but it was tempting, and everything, so I ran up to our room and locked the door. When I felt better, I yelled out the door that she had better leave the house by the time I got downstairs.”

  I took my husband’s hand as he continued the story. “So, the house was quiet, and I thought she was gone. When I went downstairs, she had even less on. I didn’t know what to do, so I threatened to call the police. That was everything.”

  I swallowed carefully. “You never. . . did anything?”

  Scott shook his head and looked down on me after a few minutes.

  “I feel a lot better now,” I said, looking up at him. “I know I can trust you.” I leaned over to kiss Scott, but he stood.

  “Where did you put, that thing?”

  “It’s on the living room floor,” I said. As I remembered, anger coursed through me. How dare some woman come over here and try to seduce my husband? Who was she? Satan herself? “Tell me who it was,” I demanded.

  Scott shook his head. “It’s better you don’t know. I am hoping that she learns and doesn’t try anything like that again.”

  “Well, you weren’t very intelligent for inviting a woman over when you were home alone. What were you thinking?”

  “I didn’t think about it,” Scott admitted. “I mean, I would never think of doing anything like that. I didn’t think it would cross her mind either.”

  I set my jaw. “Tell me who it is right now!”

  “No!” Scott shouted back. “I’m not going to tell you anything like that! I already told you why!” I decided biding my time would be better than making Scott angrier, but I was going to find out who this woman was. I was going to talk to her. I might be the pastor’s wife, and I might have to set a good example. But this girl should know that she can’t get away with doing this to my husband.

  When Scott went to take his shower that afternoon, I searched his pants for his cell phone. I scrolled through his messages, and I found who it was right away: Carla.

  I read their messages carefully.

  “Are you busy this evening?” That was my husband.

  “No, Pastor, what can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if you would come over and cook some dinner. My wife is out of town. You’re free to eat some of whatever you cook, and I’ll pay you on top of that.”

  “Sounds like it’s a deal to me. I’ll be over soon.” Winky face!

  “Thanks.”

  There was new message that my husband hadn’t seen yet.

  “Did you find it? I thought it was in my bag!!!!”

  They certainly checked out with what my husband said, though her last text was very strange. I knew Carla because she went to our church, but I had never really spoken to her. Well, I was about to have some choice words with her right that moment.

  Chapter 3

  “Pick up the kids,” I said in a note that I left for my husband. Then, I sped over to Carla’s house. I had the thong in my bag, and I was angry. This woman was going to answer for what she did. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I stomped up to her front door and pushed my finger so hard into the doorbell that I thought for a minute that I may have broken it.

  Carla was in her late twenties and a single woman, and I knew she was beautiful. I didn’t like the image that was dancing in my head of her trying to seduce my husband.

  Carla answered the door. As soon as she saw me, she burst into tears. It froze me for a moment, but that didn’t deter me from my mission. I tried to keep the nastiness out of my voice as I pulled the red cloth out of my bag. I dangled it in front of her face.

  “Are you missing something?” I asked.

  Carla grabbed the underwear carefully, balling it up in her hands. “I’m sorry,” Carla said, trying to wipe the tears away with her free hand. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”

  “How can you say you didn’t mean for anything to happen when you knew my husband was home alone? So you put on this kind of underwear then went over there and tried to seduce him?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” Carla protested. “I didn’t seduce him! It wasn’t like that.”

  I swallowed as Carla told me something I didn’t want to hear. She was just trying to get off the hook. Of course she did something. That’s what Scott had said, but of course, my heart fearfully told me, telling me that would get him off the hook completely. He looked like the innocent party according to his version.

  My womanly instinct told me I should listen to Carla. I swallowed again and took a deep breath. I would listen to this woman’s story. “May I come in?” I asked.

  Carla nodded and let me in. She led me into the kitchen, and we sat on bar stools. I folded my arms and tried to look the least hostile I could as my husband’s seducer told me her story.

  “I don’t want you to hate me, but I have to tell the truth,” Carla said. “I’ve really become attracted to your husband.” I drew in my breath, thousands of accusations filling my throat. But then, something stopped me. She really was being honest. She was telling me things that would incriminate herself.

  “I was engaged to be married,” Carla said, “about two years ago. We had a ba
chelorette party, and I got all kinds of crazy underwear. That’s why I have that, honest,” Carla said. I remembered something about her fiancé breaking off their engagement, and her story rang true. “I didn’t want the underwear to go to waste, so I’ve been wearing it all the time. Honestly, I didn’t go over there trying to do anything.”

  “But you went over there, and you knew I wasn’t there. You knew you would be alone with him,” I protested.

  “I know,” Carla said, more tears falling down her face. “It was stupid of me, but I thought, he’s the pastor. He would never, ever do anything wrong. I can go over there, earn some extra money, and get to spend some time with him.” Carla sniffled and closed her eyes as if it was really hard to continue. “He asked if he could help me cook. I said sure. And we were there, in the kitchen. I don’t know how it happened. It just did. I don’t know if he made the first move or if I did. We were just close, and. . .” Carla trailed off. “I’m really sorry. As soon as it happened, I knew I should leave right away. I didn’t even finish cooking.”

  “As soon as what happened?” I asked, feeling as though I might throw up.

  “When he. . .finished,” Carla said. “I felt sick. It was like I woke up from a dream, and everything was all wrong. I don’t know what I can do to make it better.”

  As much as I tried to hold everything in, I couldn’t anymore. I started sobbing just like I had when I found the thong. The problem was that I believed Carla. She was telling the truth. I knew at that moment that my husband may not have invited her over planning to cheat, but he had definitely done his part. Worst of all, it wasn’t just looking, like he had said. They had done everything. This special thing that we had saved for marriage and that I had never considered doing with anyone else, he had taken away that specialness. I knew I was ugly crying, with snot coming out of my nose and my face turning red, but Carla was too. We hugged each other as we cried.

  I pulled back from Carla, my fury setting in. Scott had cheated on me and lied to me. He was such a hypocrite, preaching to the church on Sunday then turning around and acting behind my back. “Thank you for your honesty,” I said to Carla. “You know I’m very unhappy with what you did. If you ever feel attraction for a married man, then you are always supposed to suppress those feelings, not let them grow secretly.” I started going down counselor mode but stopped myself before I got too far.