Whispers of My Skin

by Susana Mohel

  “Don’t forget our date,” I remind him, happier than I’ve been in a long time, because it actually seems that things are falling into place after so many years of struggling to get Redlands back on its feet.

  “Never.” He grins before turning to leave but not before he gives me a smoldering look.

  I drop what I was doing previously, knowing it can wait, and immediately get to work making a list of what we’ll need both for the lunch and a few other things that we need around the house.

  When I ask, Mrs. Sanchez is very happy to help out, in fact I’d say she’s delighted at the prospect of showing off her skills.

  “How excitin’! We’re goin’ to produce a real Texan feast for your guests,” she beams, rubbing her hands together. “I’ll make them some of my famous tortillas to go with the chili. Trust me, your guests will love all the delicious food we’re goin’ to lay out for them, and be beggin’ for second helpings.”

  Next I call up Fermin, to ask for his help in setting up the dining area out on the terrace where we plan to hold the lunch. This is exactly the kind of thing he’s so brilliant at, so I’m sure he’ll have some great ideas.

  “Leave it all to me, darlin’,” he happily agrees. “I already have the perfect chic farmhouse look in mind.”

  I’m afraid to ask, but since my friend has great taste, I’ll let him handle it.

  “As long as you’re sure you can spare the time,” I worry. “It is rather short notice.”

  “Pfft! I’ve been bored out of my mind since I moved out to give you two love birds some space. And my mother is already driving me insane, so this is the just the excuse I need to get away from her.”

  Even though it looks as though it’s all coming together, I still worry and sit making endless lists to ensure I’ve thought of everything, knowing how important this gathering is for the future of Redlands.

  “Look at you, playing house. How sweet,” An irritating voice interrupts my planning as I’m sitting in the kitchen going over everything yet again. I look up to see Cassandra standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

  “I’m not playing house, Cassandra,” I reply. “In case you weren’t aware, I own this house.”

  “You think you’ve snared him, don’t you?” She smiles disingenuously, obviously having decided to stop playing nice since it’s just the two of us.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I answer blandly, although of course I know exactly what she’s implying.

  “He’s only in this for what he can get, you know,” she continues. “The White Knight coming to the rescue of a poor dying woman, helping her out with her ranch. Very touching.”

  “Just so you know, I’m not dying, in fact I’m very healthy these days. And if you think Joel is only doing it for financial gain, think again.”

  “Poor little Tara,” Cassandra sighs dramatically. “You just keep deluding yourself, but trust me, your little bubble will be burst soon enough.”

  “What exactly is it you want, Cassandra? Because if it’s trouble, then trust me, you’ve come to the right person,” I warn her.

  “No, Tara!” she suddenly exclaims, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I’m pregnant, please don’t hurt me.”

  Crazy bitch, what the hell is she talking about?

  “What’s going on here, Tara?” Joel’s voice booms loudly.

  Of course, just what I need. He’s arrived back just in time to see the bitch’s staged performance. Shame she spotted him before I did. One up to her, but the game isn’t over yet.

  Joel frowns as he takes me by the elbow and pulls me aside, then turns his attention to her.

  “Are you okay?” he asks. “Maybe you should lie down. Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”

  The bitch has the nerve to sniffle and even squeeze out a couple of tears as she lets Joel lead her upstairs. Damn, she’s putting on a good show, I’ll give her that. She even smirks at me behind his back. Surely Joel isn’t stupid enough to fall for her theatrics?

  A few minutes later, he returns to the kitchen to confront me.

  “What happened?” he demands.

  “Your friend was taunting me about playing house, that I’d better enjoy it while it lasted, because you were only with me for what you could get. When I told her she was wrong, she started putting on that little show, purely for your benefit, even though I never touched her.”

  Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and looks skyward.

  “Tara, maybe you need to be a little more tolerant with Cassie. She’s been abused by her husband, she’s pregnant, so she’s obviously a little more sensitive than normal.”

  The crazy bitch, drama queen that she is.

  “How much more tolerant are you expecting me to be, Joel? I’ve let her stay here, I’ve been nothing but kind to her, yet she talks shit to me first chance she gets, and then does her best to paint me in a bad light with you. She’s up to something Joel, but I seem to be the only one who can see it.”

  “I thought we’d got over this irrational jealousy of yours, Tara,” Joel sighs.

  “This has got nothing to do with me being jealous. For the record, Joel, I’m telling you the truth about what happened, but it’s good to know you’re taking her word over mine. Thanks for that vote of confidence in your loyal wife.” I state furiously, before storming out of the house.

  How dare he! He actually chose to believe that conniving bitch over me? Well, he can forget his plans for a romantic date in the city.

  I walk without realizing where I’m going until I’m at the edge of the pond where we first met.

  Many things have changed since then, but like this pond, we are still the same.

  Although right now my husband is not my favorite person.

  That bitch.

  I need to remind myself again and again, that she is in trouble.

  And so is Joel.

  In so much trouble.

  Unfortunately, things don’t improve, as the rest of the week continues in much the same way. I do my best to avoid Cassandra, but she still finds ways to put me in a bad light with Joel whenever she can, which inevitably starts to build a barrier between us. I know this is exactly what the bitch wants, and I can’t believe Joel seems unable to see though all her manipulative little ploys. Plus, Joel’s tried to contact Cassandra’s husband to ask him for an explanation but without success, which is increasing his frustration.

  When Joel and I are alone at night, I can almost believe nothing’s changed. We still crave each other physically, but when I wake in the morning, alone and unhappy, I know things are off kilter between us because of her. I wish she’d just hurry up and leave, but if I dare to ask how her plans for moving out are coming along, she twists that around to make it look as if I’m prepared to throw a pregnant, abused woman out on the streets. So I try to say as little as possible, but it’s not easy.

  Early on Monday morning, Fermin comes over to help with the preparations for our important meeting. He gets busy arranging beautiful fresh flowers into the tall vases he’s brought with him, he spreads a fine linen tablecloth onto the long table, fixes a fantastic snack buffet in the far corner of the terrace, and he even hangs some drapes from the pergola. My friend is over the top, that’s for sure, but I’m so grateful for him.

  “Where on earth did you get all those amazing things from?” I ask in astonishment.

  “Relax, darlin’,” he winks. “My mother won’t notice a few of her treasures have gone missing for a few hours.”

  “Fermin! You should at least have asked her permission,” I scold, rolling my eyes.

  “Why? I know she wouldn’t mind since she adores you and would be only too happy to help out. I just couldn’t face another one of her lectures, about how she wishes you’d married me instead of that cowboy of yours.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” I chuckle, throwing a cushion at him.

  “Looks like someone’s been very busy,” Fermin comments as he follows me into the kitchen an
d sees that four of the six burners on the stove are occupied by pots and pans.

  “I think I may have over-catered just a little bit,” I admit, holding up my barely parted fingers.

  “I think we know what y’all going to be living on for the rest of the week,” Fermin laughs, as does Mrs. Sanchez

  “Well, I wanted to be sure we had plenty, but it won’t go to waste because Mrs. Sanchez says she’ll put a batch in the freezer when it’s ready,” I reply tartly.

  “Yes, don’t you worry, I’ll take care of that for you,” Mrs. Sanchez beams. She really is a treasure and has been a huge help in getting all the food ready. I already feel very close to her and very thankful Fermin that found her for us.

  “Okay then, I’ll leave you ladies to it while I get on with putting the final touches out on the terrace. Joel said he’d wait for his guests by the entrance so he can show them around outside.”

  Once everything is organized in the kitchen, I quickly run upstairs to shower and make myself presentable.

  I’ve chosen a yellow, knee length, linen dress for the occasion. It’s sleeveless, with pleats around the neck, a thin ribbon around the waist, and I’ll pair it with some high brown wedges. I clip my hair back in some loose waves, and with the addition of a little bit of makeup, I think I’ll do.

  I’ve gained some of the weight I lost, and I look a lot healthier than I did, so thankfully it does seem as if the treatment I’m on to rid my body of toxins is working. I also have a lot more energy, which is just as well considering how demanding today will be.

  I hurriedly return to the kitchen as it’s already past one-thirty and I know Joel will shortly be bringing everyone through to the terrace.

  “Oh, Mrs. Sadger,” Mrs. Sanchez cries as soon as I walk into the kitchen. “We have a problem with the food.”

  “Oh, no!” I exclaim. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s the chili, ma’am. I just tried it, and it’s much, much too salty!”

  “But how is that possible? It was perfect before I went to get ready.” I groan, holding my head in my hands in despair.

  “I really don’t know, ma’am,” she says. “I don’t understand what could possibly have gone wrong, but you try it for yourself, see what you think.”

  I’m just about to taste it, when Joel walks in. Great. Perfect timing.

  “Is everything ready?” he demands, frowning as he casts his eye over the dishes of food.

  Now what am I going to do?

  “I’m afraid there’s a bit of problem,” Mrs. Sanchez lets slip.

  Joel looks as if he’s about to explode. It’d be almost comical if I wasn’t in the middle of my own breakdown.

  “Tara…how could you mess this up!” he growls.

  “We’re ready!” Fermin announces as he marches into the kitchen, looking like as handsome as any GQ magazine cover model.

  “So, what happened to the food?” Joel demands, arms crossed over his chest, steam practically coming out of his ears.

  “I don’t know! I was just about to check it when you came in, but Mrs. Sanchez says it’s a little salty.”

  “Tara, you knew everything had to be perfect today,” he bellows. “I told you to hire a fucking catering company, but no, you said you could handle it. Now our guests are out there, expecting at least a half way decent lunch, so what the hell am I supposed to tell them?” Joel is absolutely livid.

  “I’m sorry! Really, everything was fine before I went to quickly freshen-up, because I wanted look presentable for our guests, so I really don’t understand what’s gone wrong,” I protest.

  “At least have the decency to admit you’ve messed up big time here, Tara. Don’t try and make excuses about the salt, because you’ve obviously made a mistake.”

  “I didn’t make a mistake, I did everything correctly,” I yell back.

  “Sir, what Mrs. Sadger says is true, the chili was perfect,” Mrs. Sanchez interrupts. “I know because I checked it myself and it was delicious. I went out to serve drinks to the gentlemen in the garden, and when I returned, I checked the chili again to make sure it was ready to serve, and discovered it had somehow become over seasoned.”

  “So, you’re telling me the food just turned into a disaster all by itself?” Joel glares between me and Mrs. Sanchez.

  And just to make things even more peachy, Cassandra chooses that moment to waltz into the kitchen, with a smug, knowing look plastered on her face.

  “Anything I can do to help?” she smiles sweetly.

  “No!” We all reply in unison.

  “What a pity, it seems our little Tara wasn’t up to the task after all. Probably exaggerated her abilities to try and impress you, Joel. I suppose all you can do now is apologize to your guests, and order in a few pizzas.”

  The only thing that stops me from giving that nasty bitch a piece of my mind is Fermin’s hand on my arm, along with the look he shoots me, urging me to keep my dignity intact.

  “That’s enough, Cassandra, you’re not helping. Maybe go back and rest in your room so we can get on with sorting this mess out,” Joel orders.

  Finally! My husband is putting the bitch in her place for once, which from the look on her face she does not like one bit.

  “Mrs. Sadger, we still have the extra chili you had me put aside for the freezer. Do you want me to fetch that? It won’t take long to heat through as I’ve only just put it away.”

  Hallelujah! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

  “Yes, yes, of course! And I’m sure Mr. Sadger would be happy to personally check the seasoning of this batch to confirm it hasn’t been tampered with.” I stare at Cassandra, to let her know I’m on to her nasty sabotaging tricks.

  “Oh…You have more chili in the freezer? I… I didn’t realize…” That wipes the smile of Cassandra’s face.

  “Knowing how important this lunch was for Joel and his plans for the ranch, naturally Tara planned meticulously for every eventuality, so of course she has a reserve,” Fermin says casually, shrugging his shoulders like it’s no big deal. I love my best friend so much at this moment for the way he has my back. Unlike my husband.

  “Mr. Sadger?” Mrs. Sanchez says quietly. “If you’d like to check this batch of chili, I think you’ll find it’s perfect. I’ll have it ready in just a few minutes as it’s only chilled.”

  Joel looks at me apologetically, but I’m in no mood to deal with him right now.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Sanchez, but that won’t be necessary. I trust your judgement that whatever went wrong with the original batch hasn’t been repeated with this one,” he tells her quietly.

  In the meantime, Cassandra has slunk off, leaving us to quickly dispose of the ruined food and hastily prepare the replacement batch.

  “Forgive me,” Joel murmurs in my ear as we walk out onto the terrace. “I’m so sorry, my love. I reacted without thinking; the stress was driving me crazy. I’m really sorry.”

  I don’t bother to reply, I just ignore him as I put on a big smile to greet our guests.

  Two hours later, I put on another big smile as our guests leave, having acted the perfect, polite, sociable wife, but I’ve avoided any personal interaction with Joel, because I’m still too mad to deal with him.

  At least the meeting has been a huge success, with everyone very impressed with the plans being implemented at Redlands, and also impressed with the food, which Fermin, bless him, made sure everyone knew had been prepared by me when they sang its praises.

  “Let’s all head to the kitchen,” Fermin pronounces. “Where I have a bottle of my good friend Dom P. chilling, ready for us to crack open and celebrate.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Joel murmurs in my ear. “Are you ever going to talk to me?”

  “Nope,” I answer succinctly, not even deigning to look at him.

  Has he any idea how hurtful he was? The way he shouted at me, blamed me, and didn’t believe me? How dare he treat me like that when I didn’t deserve any of it. And I bet he still
won’t accept that any of this is down to his bitch friend doing her level best to stir up trouble, despite the evidence.

  When there’s a knock at the door I roll my eyes. The last thing I need right now is more visitors since I’m totally exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Joel follows me as I go to open the door, where we find a man standing there. He looks familiar, but I can’t immediately place him.

  “How can we help?” I ask.

  “I’m Stephen Cohen,” he says. “Cassandra’s husband. I came to talk to you and your husband.”

  Well I did not see this coming—what the hell is he doing here?

  ღ

  So how do we handle this?

  Cassandra’s husband certainly looks nervous and worried. He doesn’t appear threatening or intimidating as I would’ve expected from an abusive husband. But what do I know? Appearances can be deceiving.

  On the one hand, it’s a relief that he’s here, because I desperately want him to take his wife far, far away, so that I never have to clap eyes on the bitch again. But on the other hand, however much I hate Cassandra, no woman should put up with the kind of abuse she claims he inflicted on her.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, once I’ve got over the shock of realizing who he is.

  “I understand my wife is here, so I’ve come to fetch her home. I was so worried when I got back from my trip a couple of days early and she was nowhere to be found.”

  “Well, what did you expect?” I ask coldly. “After the way you abused her.”

  “What are you talking about?” Stephen asks, clearly perplexed. In fact, he’s so puzzled, it makes me doubt what we’ve been told. Has Cassandra been spinning more of her lies? But she was injured, I saw the evidence for myself.

  “Cassandra arrived here crying and very upset. She had a bruised face and scratches on her arm. She told us you’d become violent towards her when you’d had a disagreement.”

  Stephen looks visibly shocked, and turns as white as a sheet.

  “I don’t understand. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he claims.

  “That’s what Cassandra told my husband, and she also showed us her injuries.”