Dean's List

by Stacy Claflin

  Lydia's cheeks heated with embarrassment. "It should be—it worked earlier. Can you try it again? Third time's a charm." She handed it back. Lydia could feel stares around her.

  The cashier ran it again. "Sorry. Maybe it expired or ran out of funds."

  Lydia's face burned hotter. "We're not out of money." She dug into her purse for another card, and handed it to the lady.

  She slid it through the machine. "Sorry. This one doesn't work, either."

  "Well, I'll have to give the bank a call. In the meantime, I'll pay cash for this." Lydia dug in her purse for what cash she had, and then handed it to the lady.

  She counted it out, and then said, "You're short twenty-five thirty-three."

  "Dammit!" Tears sprang to Lydia's eyes. There was no more money in her purse. She'd have to decide what to leave at the store.

  "I've got it."

  Lydia looked up to see Chad handing the cashier a fifty. Her cheeks burned all the more. "Thanks, Chad," Lydia mumbled.

  "No problem. That's what neighbors are for." He looked into her eyes. "Keep the change. You might need it."

  "I'll pay you back. I promise." Lydia held her head high, though she'd never been so humiliated in all her life. Having Chad witness the entire thing—and save the day—only made it worse.

  "No worries. Hope you get your bank troubles fixed." He waved, and walked away.

  The cashier handed Lydia the change and receipt. She stuffed them into her purse, grabbed her bags, and got out of the store as fast as she could. She was so angry she actually peeled out of the parking lot.

  That was her favorite grocery store, and she didn't think she'd ever be able to show her face there again. They would probably put her on a list of some kind, anyway. Losers who couldn't pay probably had to use cash every time. Her face burned even more as she sped through a yellow light.

  When she got home, Lydia sat parked in the garage for a few minutes. She was so upset, she shook. Embarrassed tears sprung to her eyes. She had spoken with employees there hundreds of times. In fact, she knew most of them by name. That made the whole thing worse.

  And why had Chad needed to witness it? The worst thing about the whole ordeal was the look of pity in his eyes. A tear escaped and ran down her face. She didn't want his pity. It would be better if he hated her than felt sorry for her.

  Time ticked away, and Lydia had to get the groceries in the fridge before they spoiled in the hot garage. She reached between the seats and grabbed the bags from the back. Then she got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as she could.

  If Dean called before the banks opened in the morning, Lydia would demand to know what had happened. He had so much money it practically spilled from every opening in his body. There was no reason at all for them to deny her cards. Every single one of her cards were good for at least two more years. She'd bought enough stuff online to know that much.

  Lydia went inside, slamming that door, too. How would she ever look at Chad again in a meeting? She knew he would never tell anyone about what happened—he was too good a man to do that. But still, he knew. Lydia would almost rather have the entire HOA have seen that than just Chad.

  The change from his fifty jingled in her purse as she dropped it on the counter. Lydia sat down at the table and let the tears flow. She wasn't really one to cry, but it was all too much. Dean, the credit cards, Chad. What was next?

  Gloating

  Cara opened her eyes. She had been woken by Dean's laughter, and since her head rested on his warm, bare chest it bounced up and down with each chuckle.

  "What's going on?" she asked, her voice sounding groggy.

  Dean held up his phone. "Just got some alerts. Lydia tried to use her credit cards, but they've been frozen."

  Cara scowled. "You woke me for that?"

  He ran his palms over her forehead. "I didn't mean to, baby. Don't you think it's funny?"

  "I don't really care. I'd rather sleep."

  Dean kissed her cheek, and moved away from her. "I'll go downstairs so you can."

  Cara regretted her words. "No, Dean. I'd rather be with you. Don't leave me alone. You travel enough as it is."

  Irritation flashed across his face. "I'm so sick of hearing that all the time. Really, I am. You know I have to work to pay for everything."

  "What's the deal with Lydia?" Cara asked, sitting up. "I mean, I know what you've told me, but there's no reason to keep her around. It's not like she can give you babies. You're not tied down to her. Just cut her off."

  "Spoken like a true friend."

  "Dean."

  He took a deep breath. "Look, baby. You know I love you. I bought this house so we could be together here, not in my cramped condo. Things will all come together. I promise. I just need to be careful."

  "Careful about what? She has nothing, except what you've given her. If you cut her off, she'll have no choice but to run back home to the trailer park she grew up in and be the trash she was always meant to be."

  "Don't talk about her like that."

  Cara narrowed her eyes. "You still care about her."

  "Let's talk about something else."

  "No. Do you have feelings for her?"

  "So what if I do, Cara? She's my wife."

  Cara snorted. "Wife? You haven't slept with her in years. I know because she's whined about it more times than I could count. Do you know what it's like being in her circle of friends?" Cara changed her tone to whiny and annoying. "Dean doesn't love me. Dean's having affairs—I just know it. Dean won't touch me. Dean's disgusted by me. Blah, blah, blah. Just punch me in the throat, please."

  Dean looked annoyed, but then burst out laughing. "You almost sound just like her." His face turned serious. "Now stop."

  "What do you see in that whiny piece of trailer trash?"

  "She's not trailer trash."

  "Born poor, always poor, Dean. She may love spending your money, but no matter what, she can't get away from her roots. What do you see in her?"

  "You really want to know?"

  "Yeah. I don't get it."

  Dean sighed, looking lost in thought. "She believed in me when no one else did."

  Cara scooted closer and ran her fingers over his sculpted chest. "But that was a long time ago. Does she now?"

  He put his hand on top of hers, pressing it against his skin. She could feel his heart beating against his chest. Thump, thump, thump. "I think so."

  "Really? Even after all your marital troubles? You don't think she's found anyone else, do you?"

  Dean's eyebrows came together. "One guy. And really, who could blame her? Besides, she's hot. I'm surprised she's stayed that faithful to me after all the women I've—"

  "Yeah, yeah. Okay." Cara scowled. "You really think she's hot?"

  "I may not like her much, but I'm not blind."

  "You're going to marry me someday, right?"

  "Cara." His tone held not only irritation, but warning.

  "Seriously. We're going to have a family. A family, Dean."

  "Would you stop saying my name? I've never met anyone who says my name so much when talking to me."

  She scooted away, hurt. "Why are you being so mean? Is it because we're talking about Lydia?"

  "I don't even know why you want to talk about her. You always say how much you can't stand her."

  "And that's part of why you like me so much, right? Everyone else adores her. You've made her into someone that people actually like."

  "People liked her before she met me."

  "Why are you defending her?"

  "No matter what you say, she's my wife."

  "And no matter what happens, I'll always be the mother of your child."

  He glared at her.

  "Tell me one redeeming quality she has, and I'll drop the subject."

  "She's a good cook."

  Cara rolled her eyes. "That's all you have? You could hire someone to do that."

  "You said you'd drop it."

  "And I said name a quali
ty. Cooking is a skill."

  "Damn. Women are annoying."

  "I'll pretend you didn't say that," Cara said. "What's one good thing about her? Just one."

  Dean's face softened. "She can see the best in anyone, even a total jerk. Is that a quality, or still only a skill?"

  "Could go either way. Though I haven't heard her say anything good about you." Cara shot him a dirty look.

  "I don't know why I put up with either of you."

  "At least you have benefits from me," Cara said. She moved to her side, allowing the strap on her shirt to slide down her shoulder.

  Dean looked away. Was that guilt on his face?

  "You've got to be kidding me," Cara said, sitting up.

  "What?" he stared at her.

  "Don't tell me you've actually slept with her recently." A sick feeling welled up in her stomach.

  "It's none of your business."

  Cara's eyes widened. "Dean! How could you?"

  "I need a drink. Get some sleep. I don't need two whiny, jealous women to deal with." He climbed out of bed, and put his shirt back on.

  Cara's heart pounded. "I'm not whiny… or jealous," she lied. She wanted to dig her fingernails into Lydia's eyes and rip them out of her skull. After all those years, why would Lydia sleep with Dean now?

  "I need some space."

  The last thing Cara wanted was to be alone, especially since Dean just got back from traveling. She forced herself to smile. "Stay, Dean. I'm sorry. It must be my hormones." She crawled over to his side of the bed as seductively as she could with a bulging belly. Cara grabbed onto his shirt and pulled herself up, pushing herself against him. "You can talk about anything you want. I won't interrupt."

  He raised an eyebrow

  Cara ran her palm down his arms. "Tell me about how you manage to stay ripped despite working so much." She squeezed his muscles. "You're so strong. Tell me all about it."

  Dean's face softened further, and he sat down.

  Cara climbed into his lap, running her fingertips along his chest, and down to his perfect six-pack. She tucked her fingers under his shirt and pulled it up over his head. She threw it on the floor. "There. That's better."

  He grinned looking more relaxed.

  "What do you want to talk about?" she asked in her most sultry voice. "Or what would you rather do?" She would do whatever it took to make him happy so that he would never want to return to his skank of a wife ever again.

  Dean's phone played a tune indicating that he had a new text. He picked it up, looked at it, and laughed.

  "What's so funny?" Cara asked.

  "She tried to use another card. This time online. I'll bet she's frustrated."

  Cara's mouth curved upward. "I'll bet. Did you freeze her cards on purpose?"

  "Yeah."

  "Why?" asked Cara.

  "I thought you said you were going to listen to what I said without saying anything."

  "Did I? Well, you're not telling me enough."

  "She took out a large sum of cash from the bank today. I'm sure doesn't think I know, but I keep tabs on what she does. It helps to have friends in high places."

  "I'm sure it does." Clara kissed the soft skin on his shoulder.

  He moved his head to the side, inviting her to kiss his neck, which she did. Cara kissed a path up to his ear, and then whispered, "Tell me more."

  Dean moaned, and then kissed her on the mouth. "She's sneaking around about something. Bought a computer with some of the cash she took out of the bank. It's going beyond her secretly working for a paper behind my back."

  Cara slid her hands down his back. "Oh?"

  "I'm not sure what it is, but I fully intend to find out. I always do."

  "Always?" she dug her nails into his skin, and he let out a gasp. "Do tell," she whispered in his ear.

  He kissed her greedily. "I have my ways."

  "Do you know who her guy was?" Cara bit his lip, and then moved her kisses toward his ear, giving him the chance to talk. Not that she cared what he had to say, except to pick up some good gossip.

  "Of course I know. It was that Mercer prick from the HOA. He thinks he's such a hotshot because of his blog."

  "You don't care?" She nibbled on his earlobe.

  "Nah. It kept her off my back about not paying any attention to her. Oh…," he moaned. "She was actually pleasant to live with until they split up. I sent a large anonymous donation to the reward for his missing kid as a thanks for distracting Lydia."

  Pieces

  "Want us to help clean the mess?" Bri asked Lydia as they got up from the table on the porch.

  "I can get it," Lydia said, trying to be the good hostess. Deep down, she wanted the help, or at least for them to stick around longer. It had felt so good to play card games and gossip. She hadn't had to think about any of her problems for a solid three hours.

  Savannah gave Lydia an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Lyds. I gotta get back home. Tom's probably already back from his poker game. It's a day that ends in a 'y,' so you know what that means." She winked.

  "Savannah," Bri exclaimed. "Have some courtesy. Lyds isn't getting anything from anyone."

  "Really?" Savannah raised an eyebrow. "I saw the way Dean looked at her at the HOA meeting. You two got it on right before the meeting, am I correct?"

  Lydia looked away. "And after."

  Bri gasped. "Seriously? You didn't tell us?"

  "I'm sure it's nothing. He probably just had a spat with whatever tramp he's seeing this month."

  Savannah kissed Lydia's cheek. "Take advantage of it while you can. You always used to brag about…his skills."

  "Goodnight, Savannah." Lydia shook her head.

  "Nightie-night." Savannah kissed Bri's cheek, and then headed inside, toward the front door. "Meet you ladies at the mall tomorrow?" she called.

  "Wouldn't miss it," Bri hollered.

  "Maybe," Lydia said, grabbing the empty wine glasses.

  Bri grabbed Lydia's arms. "You and Dean seriously…?"

  Lydia shrugged. "Probably nothing."

  "Once could be nothing. Twice is something, sweetie."

  "It's called horny." Lydia carried the glasses into the kitchen.

  "Why do I get the feeling you're keeping something from me?" Bri set the snack dishes, all piled on top of each other, on the counter. "What is it?"

  Lydia rinsed out the glasses. "He left a rose on the bed before catching his plane."

  Bri's already large eyes widened. "Shut up."

  "It was from out front, but still."

  Bri leaned against the island. "Do you think he's having a change of heart?"

  Lydia shrugged. "Maybe." But even if he was, did it matter? He was serial killer. Not just Oops, I accidentally killed someone, but I've killed more than a handful of times, and am proud enough of it to keep evidence.

  "What aren't you telling me?"

  "Everyone has secrets, Bri. He has his, and his recent kindness has nothing to do with how he feels about me."

  "Secrets? You know about his affairs, and you've never cared."

  "Never cared? Really, Bri?"

  "Fine. But you haven't cared since Chad." Bri raised an eyebrow, and then went back out to the deck and came back with more plates. She set them down, and then put her arm around Lydia's shoulders. "Are you really okay? All night you've seemed… I can't really put my finger on it, but I would have to say spooked."

  Lydia jumped back. "Really? Why would I be?"

  "Sweetie, you tell me. You haven't been yourself since…." Bri looked up and twisted her pretty face. "That evening you made a mess and didn't show up for our girls' night out."

  Sighing, Lydia stared at her best friend. She really wanted to tell her about her suspicions, but Bri would really flip out. She would probably never sleep again. She hadn't slept for days after a home invasion next door to her. This was a lot worse.

  "Well, whenever you're ready to talk, you know my number."

  Lydia hugged Bri. "Thank you, Bri. I love
you."

  "Me too, sweetie." Her phone beeped. She looked at it. "Will you be okay if I go? Looks like Corey's back from the boys' poker game."

  "Go. You know I'm used to having this huge house to myself."

  "Oh, sweetie." Bri's puppy-dog eyes were full of pity.

  Lydia cleared her throat. "Don't look at me like that, or I'll have to smack you."

  Bri laughed. "That's better. Call me in the morning. 'Kay?"

  "Sure, no problem."

  Bri grabbed her purse from the counter. "See ya, sweetie."

  "You too." Lydia waved, and then went outside to see what was left on the table. Just the deck of cards and some organic-candy wrappers. She went over to the railing and leaned against it, looking up at the stars.

  It was hard to believe it was the same night sky she had looked up at as a kid with her brother. They used to discuss how enormous the universe was. When put into perspective, her life and her problems didn't seem so important. The entire planet was just a speck of dust in the vast greatness of everything.

  She continued to stare until a shooting star came into view. When its light died, Lydia realized how tired she was. She grabbed the rest of the wrappers from the table and carried them inside, closing the sliding glass door behind her and locking it.

  Lydia dumped the stuff on the counter, too tired to clean it up then. She'd just take care of it in the morning. It wasn't like Dean was going to be home before then, anyway.

  She forced herself up the stairs after checking the doors and setting the alarm, and barely got herself ready for bed before climbing in and falling asleep as she hit the pillow. Stressful dreams plagued her all night, and when she woke up with the sun shining on her, Lydia barely felt more rested.

  Her mind raced. She needed to look into the credit cards before Dean found out. He would be pissed that they couldn't access their money. He worked hard for it, and never appreciated anyone keeping it from him.

  Lydia worried that her trip the day before had been a bad idea. What if Angie was able to find her, and came asking questions? There was no way Lydia could explain that to Dean.