The Sidelined Wife (More Than a Wife Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Peel

  ~*~

  Cody didn’t divulge too much information about Neil’s brief visit on our drive home, other than to say, “It was all right. He might come to my game this weekend.”

  I let it lie, knowing Gelaire would tell me more about it on Tuesday. And I didn’t want to push Cody. He’d been through enough.

  “At least tell me how the game was.”

  Cody leaned his head against the window with one ear bud in, giving the illusion he was willing to converse. “It was all right. The Cubs won.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” It was all over the news that the Cubs had won.

  “The food was good.”

  “Okay.” I grinned. “How was grandma?”

  His mouth twitched. “She sings, ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’ too loud.”

  “Oh really?”

  “And she talks to everyone.”

  “So you had a good time with her?”

  “It was okay. You still owe me.”

  “I have the download code for you ready at home.”

  He sat up straight, a real smile on his face. “You’re the best.”

  He didn’t always think so, but I would take what I could get.

  While Cody indulged in his new video game, I was reminded of how old I was and took a nap on the couch. It was an uninterrupted nap, since no one called. Not that I was expecting a call or that one even needed to happen. And after seeing Neil today, I was reminded of the fickleness of men and how easily their affections change. It was good no one called.

  Even better, no one came to Sunday dinner. Or so I thought. The seat next to me was screaming you’re alone. It screamed louder when Reed showed up late.

  He walked in carrying a bouquet of flowers as always, sunflowers this time around. He kissed Ma on the cheek. “Sorry, I’m late, Mrs. D. I got caught up at the gym.”

  She stood and returned a kiss on his cheek while taking the flowers. “Thank you, these are gorgeous. You’re becoming my favorite.” She glared at her own husband and sons who never thought to bring her flowers. “I’ll go put them in some water. You sit down and fill your plate.”

  I looked up expecting him to sit next to me. He acknowledged me with hardly a glance before taking a seat next to Peter.

  No one but me seemed to take notice that he’d switched spots. Was the kiss truly that awful? Had I done something? I wasn’t expecting some lasting relationship out of the deal, but I enjoyed his company. And until that moment, I hadn’t truly realized how he had taken the sting of loneliness away from me at the family table. The biting sting was back, and as piercing as ever.

  The world kept turning for everyone else. For me, I stared down at the ribs and salad on my plate, not at all hungry. My mind raced with why Reed had slighted me. We’d seemed to have such a great time together yesterday. So I giggled once, but I thought I responded appropriately afterward. I didn’t know why this was bothering me so much. Perhaps because I felt like I was never enough. I didn’t look like a supermodel when I was pregnant, not even when I wasn’t. I couldn’t do Pilates. If I tried, I would probably end up in the emergency room. I wasn’t flirty and fun or extraordinarily talented at anything. I realized what a bore I was.

  My stomach started churning. Without a word I got up, to go where, I didn’t know. No one noticed, except Ma when we crossed paths in the kitchen while she was arranging her flowers in a vase.

  “Are you all right, Samantha Marie?”

  I nodded. “I’m not hungry.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her nose did this weird scrunching-flaring thing like it always did when she was trying to determine if we were telling the truth or not. Then she felt my forehead and cheeks.

  “Ma, I’m fine.”

  “Why don’t you go lay down in the guest bedroom?”

  “I was thinking maybe I would go home. Do you think you or Dad could bring Cody home later?” I didn’t want to interrupt dinner or draw attention to myself.

  “Are you upset because you saw Neil today?”

  I had told Delanie and Avery about my encounter with him while we set the table; I guess Ma overheard. I shook my head.

  She rested her hand on my cheek. “You are loved; don’t you ever forget that.”

  My eyes began to water. “I’m going to go.”

  Ma did exactly what I needed. She hugged me and let me go without a fuss. I rushed out the front door and barely heard Ma tell everyone I wasn’t feeling well. That about summed up my life for the year.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  For an hour, I lay in my bed contemplating my life. And not just the surface things or the weekend’s events, but the whole of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I turned to my blog for comfort and snuggled under my covers on my bed, already in those frumpy pajamas as I waited for my son to come home. For some reason, I gained strength when I let my feelings out in words. It was like drawing poison out.

  The self-loathing reached new heights today due to some unforeseen circumstances this weekend. One being running into my ex-husband, who apparently wants to start a middle-aged boy band by the way he looks, and his gorgeous, half-naked, pregnant girlfriend. The other event, let’s just say, reminded me why my ex now lives with a woman that will probably pop his baby out in the morning, hit the gym that afternoon, and be back in her skinny jeans before dinner.

  These unfortunate events had me thinking about everything that I’m not and why I’m on the sidelines instead of in the game. But then it hit me that if it wasn’t for the people on the sidelines, there would never be any game. The coach, who some might consider the most important person in any game or team, does her work from the sidelines. She directs the game and calls the plays. She’s always strategizing and looking ahead. She helps others believe in themselves and keep things in perspective. She knows there is no room for ego.

  For example, if my ex would have come to me and said, “I’m thinking about a new look; what do you think of this?” and held up a picture of a man twenty-five years his junior in pants that probably had him singing soprano, I would have laughed. But then I would have told him that while he wasn’t a fashionista, I always appreciated that he didn’t dress like a slob. I also would have told him he really should learn to iron his own pants and shirts. I don’t even want to think about all the time I wasted ironing his clothes for work. But I digress.

  My point is that perhaps my work on the sidelines was far more important than any play in the game. I would have kept him from looking like a classic mid-life crisis wrapped up in a whole bunch of ludicrous. So maybe he didn’t think I was an all-star on the field, but I kept a lot of stupid plays from being made, aka hair plugs. And once in a while, I had a genius plan, like when I convinced my ex we should invest in Netflix ten years ago. I bet he used his half of that money to buy his alter-ego sports car. At the very least, I kept things in perspective.

  Ladies, I wear frumpy flannel to bed. I gained weight while I was pregnant and loved every minute of it because I knew what I was creating was far more important than getting back into my tight jeans. Not that sometimes I don’t miss that firm butt. I may not be sexy or give the kind of kisses that keep men begging for more, but I can keep a clean and organized house, make well-balanced meals, and budget. I can help with homework, even the complicated math equations. And when called upon, I can throw a lovely dinner party. I even know how to fold fancy napkins. Inconsequential things, I know. But you and I need not let anyone make us feel like what we do on the sidelines is menial. It’s important work. It’s not for the faint of heart or those who think more of themselves than others.

  And don’t worry about getting back in the game, because there will always be another yahoo who wants to sideline you or ignore you because you aren’t a supermodel or because you laugh at inappropriate times. Guess what? You don’t need them to validate you. You never did. Now go eat a cookie—I mean, protein ball. (See earlier post for recipe and thank me later.) And don’t forget to thank your lucky stars that y
ou no longer have to clean up their pee on your toilet seat and that you get to sleep in a snore-free zone.

  Sidelined Wife in Chief and Loving It. (Or at least trying to.)

  I threw off my covers and did what I did best: I made lunches and breakfasts for the week and even organized my pantry while I waited for Cody to come home. I also ate a protein ball or two. After all, I didn’t have dinner. In the midst of it all, I answered texts from Avery and Delanie asking if I was all right. I was sure trying to be.

  Cody walked in a little before nine, all smiles. I figured it was because the Bears had won. I had listened to the end of the game on the radio while I indulged in domestication.

  He headed straight for the fridge like he hadn’t eaten a thing in hours and grabbed a couple of cheese sticks. “Hey, Mom”

  “How was your night?”

  “Awesome. Coach brought me home and he let me drive his jeep.”

  “What?” I looked up from the grocery list I was making on the breakfast bar. “Why didn’t Grandma or Grandpa bring you home?”

  “Coach offered since he was coming this way and Grandma scares me when she drives and Grandpa was tired.”

  Ma was a terrible driver; she was always pointing at things like sale signs when she drove and paying attention to anything instead of the road.

  “Oh, well, that was nice of him.”

  Cody, instead of pulling apart the cheese stick, just took a big bite of it. “Yeah,” he said through a full mouth. “He wanted me to tell you he hopes you feel better and you should expect a call from him about selling tickets at the school.” Cody grimaced. “You won’t embarrass me at school, will you?”

  After that question, I had no time to wonder why Reed needed to call me about tickets or why he needed to call me at all. Or why he would, considering he ignored me today, and how stupid he must think I am after last night. I had other things to worry about.

  “When have I ever embarrassed you?”

  He leaned on one leg, just like his dad. “Rory thinks you don’t like her.”

  “Why?”

  “She said you ignored her when she tried to talk to you when you were selling tickets.”

  “I didn’t ignore her. She said she loved you. How was I supposed to respond to that?”

  Cody’s face burned red and his eyes looked anywhere but at me. “She didn’t mean it like you think.”

  My eyebrow raised. “How did she mean it?”

  “That’s just the way girls talk.”

  “Uh-huh. Do you love her?” I hated even saying the words.

  “No.”

  Oh, thank goodness. I believed him, I think. “She caught me off guard. The next time she comes to talk to me, I’ll say, ‘my son doesn’t love you.’”

  His head whipped my way and was met with my evil grin.

  “You know you’re not funny.”

  “Whatever, your lip is begging to smile. But don’t worry, I’ll be totally cool around her.”

  His face scrunched. “Don’t use words like cool.”

  “What about gnarly, tubular, dynamite? Do those work for you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to play one game and then go to bed.”

  “Okay, I love you my Cody Bear. Remember when I used to call you that? I could mention that to Rory.”

  He walked past me shaking his head, not bothering to respond to my idle threats.

  I finished my list and stayed up with him until he headed off to bed. While he played, I enjoyed reading the responses to my post from earlier.

  Yes! Yes! And yes!

  My ex decided to have every inch of hair on his body waxed after we split up. He developed a terrible rash, which turned into an infection. His new girlfriend was really into home remedies, so she ran him an oatmeal bath and didn’t tell him. He has a rare oatmeal allergy. Too bad she called 911. I was still the beneficiary on his life insurance policy. At least I got to enjoy the pictures his little barely legal girlfriend posted online.

  I giggled to myself. These women were hilarious.

  I crawled into bed feeling much better than I thought I would about my day. Then my phone rang. I wasn’t keen on answering Reed’s call. I knew we would have to see each other from time to time, but I wasn’t ready to laugh over our date yet. And as much as I knew I wasn’t that woman who turned heads and made men lose their minds and other body parts, I would be lying if I didn’t acknowledge that part of me wished I was. I truly was coming to terms with being on the sideline, but there was always that little part of you that wondered if you could be the star on the field. I debated too long and he hung up. That worked out well. Or so I thought.

  Sam, please call me. We need to talk.

  What did we possibly have to talk about? He could email me about tickets, or I’m sure Lisa, who was in charge of them, would.

  He didn’t even give me time to call before my phone rang again.

  This had better be really important. “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth.

  “For what?” I found myself annoyed with him.

  “About today.”

  “What about it?” Still annoyed. And maybe hurt, if I was being honest with myself.

  “Sam.” He paused. “I couldn’t do it today.”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend.” He inhaled and exhaled. “After last night, I couldn’t sit next to you, hell, even talk to you, and not give away how attracted I am to you.”

  I leaned back into my pillows. “Oh.”

  “How could you call me a yahoo on your blog and tell everyone I ignored you?”

  “I didn’t,” I blurted, flustered he read the post.

  “You were talking about somebody else?”

  “I was speaking in general terms.”

  “Right. I suppose you were speaking generally that you laugh at inappropriate times, like when someone tries to kiss you, too.”

  I sank lower in my covers, as if that would hide my embarrassment over the situation. “I told you I was sorry.”

  “There’s no reason for you to be.”

  “So . . . it wasn’t awful for you?” I couldn’t believe I was asking him that. It’s not something I would have done twenty years ago.

  He didn’t hide the smile in his voice well. “It was all right.”

  “Thanks.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

  “I’d like to do it again, if that means anything to you.”

  “We shouldn’t.”

  “Why? We’re two consenting adults. And you seemed to have a good time last night. I particularly enjoyed the gasp that escaped from you when my lips left your beautiful mouth.”

  Holy Saint Raphael, my pulse raised along with my body temperature like I had dialed one of those call-for-a-good-time numbers. Did those even exist anymore now that we had the internet? No one had talked to me like that in a long time, maybe ever.

  “Um . . .” All I could think about was the feel of his lips and how he tasted.

  “Sam, I want to take you out again. I’ll even sit next to you at Sunday dinner and do my best to keep my hands and eyes off you so you don’t feel ignored. I should have called you before dinner so we could discuss how we would handle things, but I didn’t want you to think I was being pushy. And when I saw you tonight, all I could think of was how can I get her alone. I knew sitting next to you wasn’t a good idea. But when you left, it took everything I had not to go after you.”

  As far as apologies went, it was a good one. “I wasn’t really sick.”

  “I had feeling. I’m sorry if you left because of me.”

  “It was just one of those days.”

  “From the sounds of your blog, it was a rough one. I didn’t mean to add to it. By the way, your kiss made me want more. And I bet you make flannel look good.”

  I bit my lip as if I wasn’t the only one in the room. “You really should quit reading my blog posts.”

  “No way. It’s free
, unlimited access into your beautiful head. And your followers are entertaining.”

  “Yeah, they are.”

  “Sam,” he paused, “you may think you’re ordinary, and maybe that’s what makes you so likable, but you’re anything but. Don’t you see how people respond to you? It’s anything but typical.”

  “I’m just me, trying to figure me out.”

  “Do you want some company on that journey?”

  “And what would we do? We can’t keep sneaking away to Indiana.”

  “Don’t worry, I have some ideas.”

  “Like what?”

  “For starters, when and where do you grocery shop?”

  Chapter Thirty

  I had never been on a date to the grocery store. That is, if you could call this a date. We were showing up a few minutes apart, Monday night, in separate vehicles. Reed’s objective was for us to run into each other but act as if it was happenstance. How did this become my life? And why did I agree to this? Probably because I liked him, he made me smile, and I really did need groceries. And never had anyone gone to such lengths to see me.

  I chose Jewel, my favorite grocery store and the one farthest away from my house in Clearfield, so I hoped we wouldn’t see anyone we knew. I was also going later than normal, which made me feel some guilt knowing Cody was home alone, but I knew he enjoyed the freedom. Besides, he was the reason I needed to grocery shop so often.

  Grocery store dating also meant wearing something besides yoga pants and a t-shirt. I decided on a dark pair of jeans because they made me look thin, and a form-fitting, burgundy sweater with leather flats. I felt like it fell nicely between I-couldn’t-care-less-what-I-look-like and I’m-trying-way-too-hard.

  The plan was for me to show up first, which I did, but that didn’t stop me from looking around the half-full parking lot to see if he was there. I admit I was looking forward to seeing him.

  I started in the produce section with my cart and list. My heart was pounding more than normal in anticipation. It made it hard to focus on getting the perfect Honeycrisp apples Cody and I were both fond of. I must have picked up ten and not looked at one of them. I tried not to look around too much as I wanted to act nonchalant, but I felt like I was failing miserably.