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The Sidelined Wife Page 21
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You never did answer my original question.
I bit my lip. I would have thought the gasps would have answered that question for you.
I do enjoy those. It’s a shame I won’t be able to hear any in the near future.
That is a shame. Really it was. There was no time this week for us to sneak away. The last time we had seen each other was Monday to grocery shop, and as fun as that was, it left something to be desired. Namely, him.
Are we still on for pedicures this evening?
If you’re sure.
I still couldn’t believe he wanted to get one. I wasn’t entirely sure how we were going to pull it off together, but he said he had it handled. He hadn’t failed us yet. Although a woman had recognized me in the grocery store Monday, thankfully, Reed noticed and was able to scurry away unseen by the eager fan.
That was weird for me, by the way. She told me her whole life story there in the international food aisle, including how all three of her husbands had left her. One left her for a man, so she didn’t feel too bad about that one, but her last one left her for a much older woman. She was salty about it. So much so, she spray-painted his car and was arrested. I hoped she read the rules of the Sidelined Wives club: no talking about any illegal activity that would make us testify against you. I confess, I faked a phone call from Cody to get away from her. She frightened me.
I wouldn’t miss it. See you soon, gorgeous, Reed texted back.
I look forward to it.
And did I ever. I wasn’t sure I ever had this much fun dating when I was younger. Maybe it was the whole secret aspect. More than likely it was Reed. He was the epitome of fun. When we were younger, I considered his carefree attitude annoying. It’s amazing what twenty years could do for your perspective.
Lingering thoughts of Reed were interrupted by the sound of Delanie’s and Avery’s voices. I clicked out of my texting app and slid my phone into the pocket of my jeans before heading out to the front of the office to have lunch with my sisters. We would eat at Avery’s desk since we didn’t have a break room—there was only a small area in the back with a refrigerator and a microwave on a stand. Nothing fancy. The guys usually ate at the site they were working at. Once in a while they came to the office when James had a lunch date with Avery or if Peter was sneaking home to be with Delanie.
Delanie and Avery were already seated with a large paper bag from the local Thai restaurant on the desk. Relief filled me. No home-cooked Delanie meals. Delanie sat stiff and pensive opposite Avery. Even so, she looked gorgeous in her brown cable-knit sweater, her hair draped to the side. No wonder Peter was sneaking off any chance he could.
I was determined for Delanie to feel welcome in our family. I headed straight for her, pulled her up even though it was awkward, and hugged her like I would Cody. The feel-how-much-I-love-you-never-let-go type. It took her a moment to reciprocate, but she relaxed and squeezed back. With it came tears. Avery came around and joined us, wrapping her tiny arms around us. She was shorter than both of us, but stronger. Her toned arms were boa-constrictor-level tight.
My own tears started to fall. “Delanie, if we haven’t said it before, we are so happy you married our brother.”
Avery considered Peter to be every bit her brother. She had watched him grow up since he was in middle school.
“I am too, but how can so much happiness bring so much misery?”
“Mom will come around.” Avery tried to sound sure.
“I’m not sure, and it’s making my husband miserable. Family is everything to him.”
“And we’re all still here,” I tried to comfort Delanie.
She shook her head and took a step back from us, breaking up the group hug. “There’s more to it.” She pressed her lips together as if she had said too much.
Avery and I both glanced at each other before taking a closer look at our uncomfortable sister. Avery was bolder than me. “What are you talking about, honey?”
Delanie wiped the tears off her smooth, creamy cheek as if she was trying to get rid of any evidence of them. I had been there. More than I wanted to admit.
“I never imagined my life like this.”
Worry rose in my chest. Was she rethinking Peter because of our family? That would devastate him.
Avery and I leaned in, waiting for her to elaborate.
Delanie took a breath and looked up to the popcorn ceiling. “I never planned on getting married or settling down.”
Oh, this was bad. We leaned in closer.
Delanie’s eye filled with more tears. “Then I met Peter, a priest of all things.” She laughed to herself. “I never believed in God, but I thought if there was one, I was sure I would go to hell for the way I felt about him. From the moment Peter and I met, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. We tried to stay away from each other, but it proved impossible. Like a moth to the flame, I found myself finding any excuse to be around him. I even attended mass; anything to see him. He tried harder to resist me.”
Peter had never shared any of their history, so Delanie had our rapt attention. I felt butterflies in my stomach as if she was telling us a tale of forbidden love.
“Peter even asked to be reassigned to another diocese. I thought I would never see him again, so I told him I loved him. I fell in love with a man I had never touched, yet he had touched me so deeply with his kind heart and smile. He was passionate about helping the poor. He loved the kids we worked with. Kids,” she whispered, like she was being haunted by a ghost.
Avery and I looked to each other with a knowing glance. Delanie’s earlier comment was beginning to make more sense.
Delanie stared off into the distance. “I’ve never met a man who wanted kids more. Ironic, considering he once vowed to be celibate. Then he married me. Someone who believed there were too many children in the world that needed care. No need to add another. Except now there is nothing I want more than to give him, us, a child. And I can’t. We’ve tried and tried.”
I reached out and took her slender hand, which was covered in a phoenix-shaped henna tattoo. “I wish you would have said something. I’m so sorry.” I had wondered if they would have kids, but that was a private decision. Ma hadn’t even hounded them about it. I think she hoped they would break up. But as far as I could tell, that was a wasted hope that Ma needed to get over as soon as possible. Delanie and Peter loved each other. Anyone could see that.
Avery took Delanie’s other hand. “What can we do?”
Delanie shrugged. “I don’t know. Not even the doctors know what to do. Everything appears to be working fine, except it isn’t. And it’s not like—” She shook her head in a panic.
We didn’t press, but we were both curious.
Delanie composed herself and continued. “Peter says it doesn’t matter to him whether we have children or not, but he’s been talking more about adoption. Though in his eyes, I see how much he wants one of his own. How devastated he is with every negative pregnancy test.”
“Men,” Avery laughed. “They have this thing about wanting to spread their seed around.”
Delanie and I laughed with her. It was better than crying.
And I had a feeling we had all cried more than we ever wanted to share.
But that day, we shared part of ourselves, some of the most vulnerable, messy parts of our lives that we did our best to keep hidden. We never did talk about the new house or the Halloween party, but none of those seemed important in light of the secret pain our new sister had been carrying.
It was a reminder to never judge a book by the pretty cover we all put on display. We each carried burdens only known to us. We each needed relief and a shoulder to cry on, even if it was digitally. Sometimes we needed help to write the next chapter in our book or the strength from another to burn the one we were working on and start again. Avery had done that for me. The women that followed me on online were helping too. And now we would help Delanie however we could, even if we could only lend an ear. We’d shake some sense into Ma
too, if possible.
I only hoped one day that Cody found a woman that loved him so fiercely.
But not until I was dead.
Chapter Thirty-Six
After the day I’d had crying with my sisters, finishing my speech, sending in quarterly reports, making dinner, ordering a corsage for Rory, and responding to comments on my latest post, I was more than looking forward to the pedicure and time with Reed. He texted me earlier and told me to arrive ten minutes earlier than him and to keep my cell phone out.
I was seen to a chair right away after picking out the deep red polish for my toes. I couldn’t wait to get my tired feet into the jetted bath of warm water.
Except there was a problem. The tech was not the usual cute little woman I was expecting. Instead I found myself staring at an attractive man with overly blond hair and too tanned skin. His aqua eyes were flashing a brilliant smile at me and asking me what kind of pedicure I wanted. I wanted the one where he wasn’t touching me. Not like I had anything against men touching me, but I didn’t want to pay them to touch me.
“So what will it be?” Nail tech man asked in his bedroom voice. Oh goodness, was this one of those places that was a front for a brothel? Did they have back rooms? Was that what he was asking?
I stared long and hard at the menu he had handed me when I sat in the chair. I carefully read each item on their “menu.” Were these code words? If I said, I’ll take the margarita pedicure, would I suddenly find myself whisked off to one of their back rooms? And then would he be like, welcome to Margaritaville and strip off that tight tee he was wearing along with his asset-enhancing jeans?
“Just a regular pedicure, thank you,” I stuttered out, not able to even look at the guy. I handed him the card and swore he brushed my hand on purpose. This was not going to do. How could I relax now?
Before I knew it, Tony, I think he said his name was, had his hands on me. Like I needed help rolling up my pants or putting my feet in water. I looked at all the cute little ladies in the place not busy with any customers. Why couldn’t they help me? How rude would it be for me to ask for a new tech?
To make matters more interesting, I received a text.
I’m here. Pretend like you don’t know me when I walk in.
If ever I wanted to blow our cover, this was it. I wanted Reed to take the chair right next to me and hold my hand. I placed the phone in my lap and, unfortunately, caught the stare of Tony.
“Is the water temperature good for you?”
I nodded.
“Good. I’ll be right back.” He winked, like an honest-to-goodness, couldn’t-be-mistaken-for-an-eye-twitch wink.
In the moment he was gone, I tried to enjoy the feel of the water swirling around my feet. That lasted all about ten seconds. Reed and Tony walked back at the same time. My hopes soared that perhaps Tony just ran the water. Yes, yes. I liked that thought. My cute woman should arrive any moment to massage my feet and calves. That was a lovely thought that went down like the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. Tony took his stool back at my feet, but not before sizing up Reed. Why do all attractive men do that to each other?
I knew I was supposed to pretend like I didn’t know Reed, but it was hard to miss his eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling and his double take of Tony.
From the corner of my eye I could see Reed being seated two chairs down from me by the cute looking grandma woman. I wanted to trade, though I doubted Reed wanted a man touching him.
My phone buzzed. Who’s the Don Juan getting ready to rub you with oil?
Tony.
You’re on a first name basis?
It’s a requirement before someone touches me.
I hope you didn’t give him your NDA.
I giggled too loudly.
“I’m sorry, did that tickle?” Tony was taking my right foot out of the water.
I set my phone down. “No.”
“So what do you do?”
Ugh. He wanted to talk.
“I’m a bookkeeper.”
Did he glance at my empty ring finger?
Reed answered for me. He just checked for a ring.
I grinned down at my phone before texting, How was your day?
Fine until now.
I heard Reed ask his tech what a margarita pedicure was. I was curious, but she better not invite him to the back room. She mentioned something about a tequila scrub. I didn’t catch it all because Tony’s hands were all over my calf. I’m not going to lie, it felt divine. If only he wouldn’t talk.
“I just moved here from California.”
That explained the tan.
“That’s nice.”
It’s not nice, Sam. He’s touching you more than I ever have.
I cleared my throat so I wouldn’t laugh again. Are you jealous?
No.
Of course he wasn’t. We were only having fun. But something like disappointment bounced around in my head. I had to remind myself I liked our arrangement.
“Are you from around here?” Tony ran his hand up my leg.
I had to think for a second about what to say. My phone was buzzing like crazy, not helping me formulate a response. I finally just looked at it. Tell him no, repeatedly appeared on my screen.
“No.” I gave Tony a strained smile.
“Just in town visiting?” His hands worked their magic on my feet, rubbing all the right places, almost making me forget how uncomfortable this all was.
Reed began coughing loudly to my left.
His cute little woman asked him if he wanted some water.
“No, thank you,” he responded.
I took his nonverbal cue. “I’m here visiting an old friend.” That was a completely true statement.
I picked up my phone when Reed texted again.
Nicely done. This guy has sleazeball written all over him.
He’s just doing his job.
Right, while he’s undressing you with his eyes.
Relax.
I will once he stops groping you. At least pretend you aren’t enjoying it.
I caught a peek of the little lady rubbing the tequila scrub into Reed’s foot. It looks like you should be enjoying yourself.
She’s old enough to be my grandmother.
You like older women.
“Ooh,” I jumped. Tony had hit a sore spot. The kind that hurt, but felt good when it was rubbed.
I detected movement from Reed. His tech asked if everything was okay.
“Yes,” Reed growled.
Tony, on the other hand gave me a grin. “You have a knot in your foot. Don’t worry, I’ll work it out.”
Did you by chance look at my speech? I had emailed him a copy of it this afternoon once I was finished.
Is this guy making you uncomfortable? He didn’t answer my question.
I tried to sneak a look at Tony; I didn’t want to make direct eye contact. He looked to be enjoying himself more than any other tech I’d ever had. Kind of, but I think it has more to do with the fact that you’re here, watching.
I would rather be the one touching you.
Do you rub feet?
Very well.
Is that an offer?
Yes. By the way, your speech was brilliant.
Really?
I loved the line where you said, ‘No one will ever truly be empowered until we can see each other and work together as equals. For no one is truly empowered until we all are.’ Very insightful.
I just made that up.
Reed chuckled to my left.
Just kidding, I texted again.
I did feel that way—my only hope was to live it and breathe it. Teach it to my son. Help the women in my life feel like they could overcome anything, even teach my own mother, if necessary. If Ma only knew the heartache Delanie was going through. But Delanie swore us to secrecy. She didn’t want to be looked at as the infertile couple. I could understand that.
My thoughts were interrupted by Reed’s tech, who was complimenting him on how smooth his feet were
and how impressed she was with his trimmed toenails.
I guess my secrets are out now.
I like a man that takes care of his feet.
Is that one of your husband requirements, along with spine-tingling kisses?
It is now.
What else?
You’ll have to keep reading my blog.
Tony was done with my right leg and reaching for my left foot and leg. I had almost forgotten about him for a second. It was easy to get caught up in Reed. That all ended, though, with the woman seated next to me.
“OMG. Are you the Sidelined Wife?”
I didn’t think women my age should say OMG. And I didn’t particularly like being recognized, especially because that meant that my date with Reed was all but over, unless I wanted to be overtly rude. It was tempting.
I fired off a quick, Sorry, before I faced the woman that would proudly call herself a trophy wife. You know the type. Huge, sparkling wedding ring, all the right designer brand-name clothes. Her long, auburn hair was impeccably draped to the side. Tony was now wishing he was with her and not me, by the way his tongue was wagging. It wasn’t surprising. I was the sidelined wife, after all.
“I’m Samantha.” I reached over to shake the woman’s hand.
“Belinda.” She did that shake where she hardly gripped my hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. My girlfriends and I were just talking about you at the country club. We were all like, have you read the Sidelined Wife? She’s hilarious, but maybe a little bitter—no offense.”
“None taken.”
“And I was like, she looks so pretty online, but I bet she was Photoshopped, because really, if she looked that good, her husband wouldn’t have left her.” She took a deeper look at me after insulting me. She shrugged. “I guess I was wrong. No Photoshop.” She was awfully disappointed.
I couldn’t help but turn to Reed to see if he had heard. Even though he was looking at his phone, I knew he had. His face was blotched in red and his jaw was tighter than Belinda’s botoxed forehead.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to this woman.
My phone buzzed and Reed had a suggestion too crude for me to repeat.
Belinda didn’t seem to care that I hadn’t responded or that she marginalized every woman that had ever been cheated on by callously blaming it on looks. “If you’re local, you really should join the country club, there’s a lot of single men—”