Ange was the designated driver, so Jim had a couple of beers before dinner and three of glasses of wine with it, he wasn’t alone though, both Hank and Carla met him drink for drink until Hank intervened as Carla poured her third wine.
“Carla, I think you’ve had enough, remember you’re on painkillers and antidepressants,” he warned sternly. Carla continued to pour, but stopped at half a glass, saving face, but not disobeying him totally.
“We’ve been quite worried about poor Carla,” Betty explained. “She has been suffering post traumatic stress disorder and her neck has proven more trouble than we first thought. Hank would prefer if she took some time off, but she won’t hear of it.”
“Mom, you know I get totally bored and restless when I have nothing to do. And don’t talk about me as if I wasn’t here,” Carla slurred; the wine and tablets now hitting her.
“Carla, show your mother more respect. She is just expressing concern for you,” Hank admonished. “Pardon my daughter. She’s not much of a drinker at the best of times, and I can only assume the medication is not helping,” he apologized to his guests.
“Forget it,” Ange said. “I had my share of depression after Jack was born, and I know the feeling. We all have our off times.”
Jim was stunned by Ange’s admission, and the nonchalant way she approached it. He was proud of her, and how she had diffused what could have become an unpleasant scene. The talk turned to Ireland. Jim relaxed and became less cautious than usual, turning on the charm. In truth, with the few drinks in him he began to enjoy the attention of Betty and Carla and played along, entertaining them with stories of home. They sat at the table, eating and talking until half past six. It was such a success that Jim, in his intoxicated congeniality, had insisted on extracting a promise that he and Ange could return the favor for Saint Patrick’s Day. They were used to having a full house then, he persisted at any protest of inconvenience to them, and it would be a lonely affair for them if it was just the family party.
“I agree; it would be odd cooking only for the four of us. Please come?” Ange seconded his proposal enthusiastically, although Jim knew from years of watching her that she wasn’t entirely enamored with it.
“That would be lovely; if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble. Thank you,” Betty agreed.
After the meal they all adjourned to have coffee in the living room and Jack and Ava became quite cranky. Betty brought Ange upstairs to the guest room to see if they would settle for a nap. Then she and Hank made a start on the dishes and wouldn’t hear of Jim’s helping them. They shooed him into the living room and sent Carla with him for company. He took a seat on the sofa, and Carla sat beside him. He was talking away with her, any reserve removed by alcohol on both sides. Jim was aware of Carla moving closer and he moved over to the arm but somehow Carla seemed to end up right up close again. He was horror struck as she leaned towards him and tried to kiss him. He pulled away, jumping up off the sofa. Right at that moment, Ange walked in.
“Jack isn’t settling would you mind getting his teddy from the car?” Ange asked as she walked in the door. He saw her jaw fall open as she took in the scene she was met with.
“What the hell is going on here?” Ange hissed.
Carla dashed unsteadily out the door past her, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide in horror at the discovery.
“Ange….” he started.
“Let’s just give our apologies and talk about this in the car,” Ange interrupted.
Jim was surprised at how totally calm Ange seemed. He certainly felt anything, but calm. He realized should have listened to Ange a long time ago. She had seen it coming, but he had been too dense to believe her, preferring to believe Carla was just grateful that he had saved her. It was obvious Carla had way too much to drink, as anyone in their right mind wouldn’t make a pass at a married man while his wife was in such close proximity. Jim wished she’d had a bit more however, so she might forget her mistake and his rejection. Automatically he began to fret on the impact it would all have on his job and his friendship with Hank.
Ange kicked into gear. She went into the kitchen and made up some tale about how distressed Jack was in the strange house, and how she had forgotten to bring his favorite teddy, which he couldn’t sleep without. She had no difficulty showing appreciation for the fine spread, and the warm welcome, and repeated her hope to see them for St Patrick’s Day. Jim could only admire his wife’s cool head in the crisis, although he couldn’t help wonder if she would let fly when they got home.
Even on the long journey back they couldn’t talk about it. For starters, it had begun to snow quite heavily, so Ange needed to keep her eyes peeled to the road, and secondly, Ava was a sharp little thing and Jim knew she’d pick up what was going on so he kept his mouth shut on the topic and was grateful Ange did too. Jack fell asleep almost as soon as they were on the road, but Ava sang songs and chattered for the entire journey, two hours long courtesy of the snow. After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled up outside their house.
“I’m glad I actually saw what happened,” Ange announced after the children were in bed. “I knew Carla was being a bit obsessive about you and I was afraid you might be flattered enough to do something about it. At least now I know where you stand.”
“Jesus, Ange. How could you think that? How could you think I would want anyone else?”
“Well, let’s face it. I haven’t exactly been a model wife for the last few years, have I? She comes with no baggage and definitely wants a domestic discipline relationship, which I hate.”
“Do you really hate it that much?” Jim asked. He was surprised. He’d thought she was coming around to it, and he’d purposefully not been too harsh in its implementation in the hope Ange would get over her fear of being tyrannized.
“Stop changing the subject. How are you going to deal with Carla?”
“I was kind of hoping you might tell me that. You’re way better at diffusing awkward situations than I am.”
“Great, I walk into a room and find my husband in a clinch with another woman and then I get to solve it. You’ve some neck on you, Jim O’Brien.”
“I was not in a clinch, I was dodging one. And you fecking know it.” He was relieved to see Ange laughing.
“All right, maybe I do. But that doesn’t change that it’s a bit of a mess. I’d suggest that you do nothing for now, go to work as normal and see how Carla behaves with you. It was pretty obvious you were trying to escape; I think she’d have got the message, even if I hadn’t come in. To tell the truth, I’m more worried about Hank.”
“Do you think I’m not? Shit, I could be out of a job again and I didn’t do anything to cause it.”
“Maybe not, but I can’t help thinking you didn’t do enough to prevent it either. I tried to tell you what she was up to.”
“So you were right, and I was wrong. Are you happy now?”
“Not really, but it’s nice to hear you say it. It always seems to be me in the wrong nowadays and you get to punish me. Do I get to spank you now for not heeding my warnings? How about six strokes of that cane?” Ange was still laughing at him, but there was a note of bitterness about her words. They needed a heart to heart about taken in hand; he didn’t want it to destroy them as it was supposed to make them closer. But he wasn’t letting it go without a fight, either. For the last couple of weeks, they had been much closer and he intended to keep it that way. Jim was particularly impressed how Ange hadn’t flown off the handle over Carla. If that had happened back in Ireland, she’d have freaked, automatically holding him one hundred percent responsible.
Chapter Twelve
The phone had gone to voicemail before Ange got to it. Dammit, she was dying to hear how the day was going. She really hoped that Jim wasn’t going to lose his job over this whole sorry mess. Really his biggest crime had been foolishness in not preventing it. Of course when she redialed his number, he was busy. Typical. A couple of minutes, later she got a text.
> “Can’t talk now. Hank’s fine. Doubt he knows. Carla’s not here.”
Although Ange had the momentary relief of knowing all was well for today, of course she knew it was only delaying the inevitable and Carla would have to return to work sooner or later. It turned out she didn’t have long to wait. Jim messaged her again a couple of hours later.
“Carla’s here. Avoiding me.”
“Try to get the chance to say hello. Show her everything’s fine.”
“But it’s not fine.”
“Just do it. Let me know how it goes.”
Ange had to wait until Jim returned from Denver to hear the rest of the story. Carla managed to avoid him all day, but Hank had been completely normal and Jim told her he was satisfied that he was in the dark and Carla intended it to remain that way. The break in the weather meant that Jim would be stationed in Corbin’s Bend, working on the units there for the rest of the snow season as travel would become more and more difficult, and Carla would return to Denver tomorrow to stay with her parents so she could continue to work from the office. The only likelihood of their meeting would be around Corbin’s Bend and even that would be extremely unlikely until the new year. While Ange considered this separation a good thing from the point of view of her marriage, it was also a worrying development as she was only too well aware of how the situation could fester, simply by being put on the back burner. She decided to take matters into her own hands. She lied blatantly to Jim and told him she had to call over to Maeve and asked him to watch the children.
Her tummy was doing somersaults as she knocked on Carla’s door. She couldn’t help but notice that Carla didn’t look too pleased to see her, either, as her eyes widened when she saw who was standing on the doorstep.
“What do you want?” Carla asked. She didn’t invite Ange in but Ange stepped in to the hall regardless.
“Don’t worry. I’m not here to cause trouble, I just want a word. Can we go and sit down?” Ange replied as calmly as she could. She followed Carla into her living room.
“You’ve this place done up very nicely,” Ange commented as she took in her surrounds.
“I’m sure you didn’t come to discuss interior décor, Ange. Say what you came to say.”
“About yesterday…” Ange saw Carla color and tense up. “Just forget it; blame the medication. Jim was tipsy too, and it might even have seemed like he was flirting. If anything, I’m grateful to you. Since your accident you’ve reminded me that he’s a good man and to appreciate what I’ve got. We’re a good couple Carla, and what happened yesterday won’t change that. So, no hard feelings?” Ange offered Carla her hand, which she accepted. Ange hoped she got the right mix in her words, she meant to Carla offer a way out of her humiliation. But she also meant to say back off, you won’t win, in as nice a way as she could.
“Thanks,” Carla replied. But Ange could see that behind the thin watery smile, there was something else. Anger? Shame? Bitterness? Defiance? Ange couldn’t tell what it was, but it sure as hell didn’t give her a warm and fuzzy feeling. But then she didn’t expect that she would come away with a new bosom buddy, either. Carla rose, indicating that Ange’s time was up.
“I do hope that we can put it behind us, maybe even be friends,” Ange said as she exited. And she actually meant it. Carla had made her appreciate what she could lose and Ange did understand where the hero worship was coming from. If Carla could just analyze her feelings and realize they were gratitude rather than love, they could be friends, or at the very least, neighbors on friendly terms. But she was glad that the work situation was going to enforce a temporary absence, both between Jim and Carla and indeed Ange and Carla. A cool off period.
In an effort to continue with their newfound closeness, Ange did her best to adhere to what she considered Jim’s crazy document. She even tolerated a number of spankings she considered unfair on the strength of it, putting it down to an investment in their marriage. To her surprise, Ange realized it wasn’t the spankings she had a problem with. As soon as she felt the heat in her bottom, her nether regions flooded and she was hooked. And the fact that they were disciplinary and outside her control only seemed to add to the excitement. If she got a text from Jim reminding her that he had to discipline her, she spent the whole day in nervous anticipation, waiting with baited breath until his return and the kids being settled for bed. She loved how they made Jim assertive and Domish. They seemed to be much more unified overall. And their sex life had certainly benefited.
Her problem was with the reasons for her discipline. If it continued in this vein, over time she knew that the real Ange would disappear and a Stepford wife would replace her. She knew Jim, knew what he liked and admired, and she understood that while he was new-fangled with his little bit of power, he never wanted to surround himself with yes men, but rather had respect for those who could express a true opinion. By subscribing to his rules, Ange knew she could do a quick patch job on their marriage, keep Jim satisfied and try to make the best of it herself. But that wasn’t good enough. They had come this far and now she wanted much, much more. They had chosen their exile, Ange was determined it should bring them unity.
While these things troubled Ange, Christmas was around the corner and she was up to her tonsils in preparations, both family and bakery. Her worries had to be put on the back burner as she had more orders for cakes and puddings and yule logs than she could ever imagine being able to produce and was baking around the clock. Jim relaxed some of the rules to enable her to fulfill them as long as she adhered strictly to the no callers outside “shop” hours rule. They were both of the opinion that Ange should take a unit in the new year and set the wheels in motion with Brent, who was incredibly accommodating and more than willing to set what was a nominal rent while she started out. The success of Corbin’s Bend was a priority to the board, and that included the success of any enterprises setting up there. Ange would benefit from their benevolence.
No sooner had Ange determined to give it a shot before trouble came calling, in the form of Brent and Lelo. The Corbin’s Bend board of management had received a notice of inspection from the FDA. It appeared it had reached their attention that there was food being prepared for sale on an unlicensed premises and they planned a full inspection of all premises as soon as the roads were passable again. The board felt they had no option, but to follow through on their warning and had agreed that a public disciplining would be in order.
Ange and Jim protested and appealed the sentence, on the grounds that Ange had stuck to her end of the bargain and had ensured no confections were brought outside Corbin’s Bend. It was one of the stipulations she made before each order, and was initialed by each customer in the order book. They both felt that the punishment was unjustified, especially as the board had already agreed to give Ange a couple of month’s grace. However, when it became apparent that Ange herself had given a cake to Betty, the appeal was upheld, even though it seemed unlikely to be the source of the complaint as it had been a gift rather than a sale. Both were angry at the prospect of Ange being punished for an act of generosity, a good deed that would have been perfectly in order under normal circumstances. A further nail in her coffin was the fact that in an attempt at transparency, Ange had been in contact with the Inland Revenue regarding tax requirements. The discipline was set to occur on December twenty first, rather than have it hang over them over Christmas and it could be attended by all adults in the community who chose to go. Ange was gutted. It seemed that her escape from humiliation in Ireland was simply being replaced by further humiliation in Corbin’s Bend.
Most of those she had come to consider friends had agreed that they would not attend. They didn’t want to partake in her public shaming, especially as they had all enjoyed her wares. Ange had to beg Maeve to come, because she wanted to have at least one friendly face there. Temporarily at least, Jim would become the enemy, as he had to administer the punishment. Ange knew he was no happier with the situation than she was, but he would be und
er scrutiny and would have to obey the rules. Maeve would be there to hold her hand, metaphorically at least.
The morning of the discipline, she asked Jim to go to work as usual. Ange was sick with nerves, but she needed to make her day as normal as possible. Ange rose, showered and started to prepare to fill the orders for the day ahead. It wasn’t too full a day thank God. Just a few cakes she had deliberately held over so she would be busy. The kitchen was warming from the heat of the ovens. As she popped the six loaves in, the heard signs of life from upstairs.
Flipping into mammy mode, she set the milk on a low temperature to heat before running upstairs to supervise Jack’s descent. As an over-exuberant three year-old, the stairs were still a treacherous trek for him each morning. She set him into his booster chair at the dining table, where he was joined by Ava. Once they were tended to, she started on an apple tart, Maeve’s favorite. She had promised to spend the day with Ange and the children, and keep her distracted. Using yet another food processer, she had the pastry made within seconds. There was a time she used to make the pastry by hand, but experience had taught her the less handling it got the lighter it was, and Ange gave way to gadgets graciously. The secret of her pastry was the small amount of sugar she added to sweeten it. She covered it and set it in the fridge as she peeled, cored and sliced the cooking apples. By then it was time to bathe the children. Ange never understood how some people said bath time relaxed their children and left them ready for sleep. With her two, it signaled fun time, setting them off into hijinks. Exactly what Ange needed right now, anything to take her mind off the jitters. It was going to be a long day.
“Mammy, look, ducky needs to go wee wees,” Jack giggled as he squirted Ava rudely through the bottom end of his plastic duck. Not to be outdone, Ava joined in the fun, squirting and blowing big fistfuls of bubbles at Jack. The bathroom floor was like a swimming pool by the time they were finished, but Ange could not help but laugh at their antics. She tried to run with the fun, keeping her mind as far away from the afternoon’s proceedings as she could. Right now, she envied them their carefree existence but she was well aware that for Ava in any case, it would all too soon be coming to an end. Had they remained in Ireland, she would have started primary school already. By moving, she had been bought another year of freedom from institutionalization and conforming to rules and societal norms, and Ange was glad of the extra time as so much time had passed in a haze of depression.
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