by Marci Bolden
“No. I’m going through a divorce as well, so…” She lifted her glass as if to make a toast. “Divorcees unite.” She gulped the white wine as Donna and Annie exchanged glances.
Donna sat next to Annie. “How long were you married?”
Dianna guessed that was a question she was going to get asked a lot now. People rarely wanted to know how long she’d been married when she was married. Now that it was over, the length of her marriage seemed to define her. “Twenty-two years.”
Donna’s eyes widened. “Wow.”
“And now you’re dating someone who is also going through a divorce?” Annie asked. “That seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Oh, no. Paul and I aren’t dating.”
Annie narrowed her eyes. “If you aren’t dating, why did Paul bring you today? Family dinner generally means family or those who could become family.”
“Actually, Matt invited me. Paul was helping me trade in my SUV because I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. Matt asked if I was going to be here. I think Paul didn’t want to be rude so he extended the invitation.”
And he didn’t want to face you all alone. She swallowed more wine instead of adding that last thought.
Donna slammed her hand down. “I asked Matt if that’s what happened, and he said it wasn’t. What a dolt.”
“So you aren’t interested in Paul?” Annie asked.
“He’s very nice and he’s been very kind to me, but no. My divorce isn’t even final. I’m not ready for all that.”
Annie sat back. “I apologize if it seems like we’re two mother hens, but we’ve had no choice but to sit back and watch Paul get walked all over for the last three years. He can spot a lie before it’s spoken where his clients are concerned, but when it came to his wife, he put on blinders and then shoved his head in the sand for good measure.”
Donna sighed loudly. “He was in complete denial about how horrible she was to him. She used him so badly, and when she was done, she just tossed him aside. At least now she has a new sucker to leech off and Paul can finally be rid of her.”
Dianna lifted her brow and downed what was left in her wineglass.
“It’s put Paul through the wringer, though.” Annie finished her glass as well and refilled hers and Dianna’s.
“So how long have you and Paul known each other?” Donna asked as she pushed herself up when a timer dinged.
“Uh, just since October. Do you need help?”
“Nope, you sit right there and endure our questions until we’re satisfied that you aren’t some backstabbing, greedy bitch we’re going to have to scare off like we should have done to Michelle.”
Dianna chuckled. “I get the feeling you didn’t care for her much.”
Annie moaned. “The only thing I liked about her was… Never mind. I can’t think of anything.”
“She had pretty hair,” Donna offered.
Annie made a face. “There was that.”
Dianna drew a breath. She was tempted to ask more about Michelle, just because her own morbid curiosity was dying to know everything about her, but she pushed the urge down. “Well, no one has ever accused me of backstabbing or being greedy. At least not to my face.”
Annie laughed. “That’s something. So tell me more about yourself. What do you do? Who do you know?”
“I work at that little bookstore on the town square. And unless you’ve got kids in high school sports, chorus, or band, we don’t run with the same crowd. My life revolves around my kids and their activities…or it did, I guess.”
“Soccer mom,” Donna said.
“Until recently,” Dianna confessed. “I had the perfect life, perfect marriage, perfect everything, right up until I didn’t.”
Annie stared at her for a moment. “Who left?”
Back to her divorce. “He did.”
“Did you see it coming?”
“Nope. It was a complete shock.”
“It was for Paul, too. The fool.”
Dianna finished her second glass of wine. “So, you know all about me now.” She lifted a brow at Annie. “Your turn. Why didn’t you ever get married?”
Annie held her gaze, as if warning her to back down, but Dianna didn’t, and Annie conceded. “Men irritate me.”
Donna snorted. “Everyone irritates her.”
“Everyone irritates me,” Annie reiterated with a shrug. “I just never found someone who made me want to make the sacrifices necessary to be married. I love my work, my daughter, my life. I can take care of myself. So, until I meet someone who adds to that instead of takes away from that, I have no interest in men.”
Dianna looked at Donna. “How long have you and Matt been married?”
“Ten glorious years.”
“They’re enough to make you sick, too.” Annie topped off her wine. “They’re one of those couples who actually like each other.”
Dianna laughed. “Well, congratulations. Apparently that’s very rare.”
“You mentioned kids,” Annie said, turning the focus back to Dianna.
“Two boys. Jason is at the University of Iowa. Sam will be headed there next fall.”
“And they play sports?”
“Every single sport they can get into. I’m actually thankful they’ll both be in college soon. I can take a break from sitting on cold bleachers.”
“Baseball?”
“Oh, yes. They’ve both played since Little League.”
Annie grinned, and Donna chuckled.
Dianna looked between the two. “Why is that funny?”
“Paul was quite traumatized by a baseball game in his youth,” Annie said. “You should be fully aware of it so you can tease him if you’re ever around when he’s watching a game.”
“Tormenting him over this is a long-standing family tradition,” Donna added.
Dianna couldn’t help smiling. She’d been accepted. If she hadn’t, they wouldn’t be sharing secret family traditions. She felt a little guilty, like she was betraying Paul’s trust, but she wouldn’t have to if he were sitting here with her instead of making her fend for herself. “How does one go about getting traumatized by baseball?”
By the time Paul walked into the kitchen, looking hesitantly at the women, Dianna, Annie, and Donna were laughing so hard Dianna could hardly breathe.
“Look who’s here. His ears must have been burning,” Donna said before returning to the stove.
Paul cringed. “Why do I sense trouble?”
Dianna tilted her head innocently. “Annie was just telling me a little bit about you. That’s all.”
Paul’s eyes widened as he looked at his sister. “You didn’t.”
Annie put a hand to her chest, barely hiding her mischievous grin. “What?”
“You told her about the baseball tournament.” He groaned when all three women started laughing again.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Dianna lifted her glass as if to hide her smile. “It was a long time ago.”
“And yet my sister still tells the tale.”
“If you’d listened to me when I said you couldn’t borrow pants from someone two sizes larger than you—”
“Mine were dirty.”
“—they wouldn’t have fallen down and you wouldn’t have cost the team two runs and ultimately the game.”
“Thanks.” He walked to the table and snatched a cookie off a platter. “I can’t believe you’re telling her this.”
Dianna playfully glared at him. “That’s what you get for trying to throw me to the wolves.”
He stuffed a Christmas-tree-shaped cookie into his mouth. “I did no such thing.”
Paul glanced at his sister. The way she was smiling—with amusement and approval rather than the plastered-on, forced smile she’d always given him when Michelle was around—warmed his heart. He was far too old to be seeking the approval of his sister, but it felt good to see her genuinely smiling at him.
“Took you long enough to come check on her,” Annie said
. “I could have chewed up your girl and spit her out ten times over.”
“I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d like her,” he said, as if Dianna wasn’t sitting right there.
“I’m sure.” Annie’s voice had softened from teasing to gentle. “Go tell everyone to wash up. Lunch is ready.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Paul called the family to the table, and when Dianna emerged from the kitchen carrying a dish, he took it. “So it went well?”
She put her hand on her hip and tried to look angry, but he could see she wasn’t. “You abandoned me.”
“You were laughing at me.”
She nodded. “Yes, we were.” Reaching out, she pulled a blond hair that matched that of his two young nieces from his sweater. “And what were you doing while I was winning over your protectors?”
“Having a tea party with the girls. I bet Donna and Annie were easier on you than those kids were on me. I didn’t lift my pinky. I was nearly banished.”
Di giggled. “You should have better table etiquette.”
“Obviously.”
He pulled out a chair for her as his family started piling into the room and the table filled with food. He sat next to her as conversations overlapped and people settled in for their annual dinner. It was the first holiday meal in years where he felt relaxed and welcomed instead of defensive. He didn’t feel the need to justify having this woman by his side.
“So, Paul.” Annie handed him a dish of green beans. “When I asked Dianna how you two met, she said I had to ask you.”
The other conversations stopped as everyone focused on Paul. He dropped a spoonful of beans onto his plate and looked at Dianna. “She tells you my most embarrassing moment ever, and you can’t even tell her how we met?”
“Oh, man,” Matt said, “Annie told you about the baseball game?”
“She did.” Dianna smiled brightly. “I’m really bummed there aren’t any photos, though.”
“Thanks.” Paul passed her the dish. “I appreciate the support.”
Dianna took the beans from him. “I do what I can. Anyway, I thought the tale of our paths crossing was better told by you. You were the one who sought me out.”
“Did you meet online or something?” Donna asked.
“It was much less orthodox than that,” Dianna said.
“Wait a second,” Matt said from across the table. “I didn’t make the connection before. Friedman? Dianna Friedman. The ex-wife.”
“There’s no ex about it,” Dianna said. “Not yet anyway.”
“What ex-wife?” Annie passed the dish of potatoes to Paul.
“The one who testified. At his hearing,” Matt clarified.
The weight of everyone’s stares pressed down on Paul, as well as a resurgence of the guilt he still felt over having asked Dianna to share with the court how she’d caught her husband having sex with Michelle.
Annie looked from Dianna to Paul and back again. “So you guys met when Paul asked you to testify?”
“After the hearing, we had coffee and spent a long time talking about our marriages and divorces and…bonded over our misery,” Paul offered.
“Now we all get to stare at you and make you really uncomfortable.” Matt clearly was trying to lighten the tension at the table.
Dianna laughed.
Paul tried, but he found it difficult. “Neither one of us was expecting our sudden changes in marital status. We both have some things that we weren’t prepared to handle, but we realized we can help each other with those. I helped her buy a car. She’s going to help me redecorate.”
“Thank God,” Annie muttered.
“I’d been a housewife for over twenty years. I never had to do things like negotiate a car sale. Paul has been so gracious in helping me take on all these new responsibilities. I owed him Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Well, you’ve paid your debt after today,” Annie said. “It’s a damned shame what they did to you two, but I’m glad you have each other to get through it. Now that we have that settled”—Annie nudged Paul—“we can get back to telling stories about you.”
Paul considered not answering the phone. If he didn’t, though, he would have to have this conversation face-to-face. He was actually surprised it took his sister this long to call him. He’d dropped Dianna off several hours ago. He had expected the inquisition to start much sooner.
“Hey, Annie,” he said, settling on the couch so he’d be comfortable as his sister analyzed his life.
“She’s nice.”
Paul chuckled. Not even a greeting, just right to the heart of the matter—Dianna. “Yes, she is.”
“Seems sincere.”
“I think so.”
“She’s funny.”
Paul rolled his head back, wishing Annie would just get to the point. “Yes.”
“It was considerate of her to help clean up.”
Ah, a jab at Michelle. “Dianna is very considerate.”
“I remember when you told me about the hearing. How bad you felt for her. I can see why. She doesn’t deserve what her husband did.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“You should bring her around more often.”
Paul lifted his head. Annie had never said that before, not about a single woman Paul had ever dated—and he wasn’t even dating Dianna. “We’re not in a relationship, Annie.”
“Yet.”
He sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Really?”
“What?”
“No woman you’ve ever met was good enough for me. Even Laurel—who, by the way, definitely got the short end of the stick on our marriage—was faulted beyond repair in your eyes. But this woman, whom I’m not even dating, is the one you want me to start bringing around more often?”
“Every other woman, Laurel included, looked at you with dollar signs in their eyes.”
“Come on, Annie. I’m not a millionaire.”
“No. But you do well for yourself, and it shows. I don’t want my little brother with a woman who is more attracted to his wallet than his heart.”
“How do you know Dianna isn’t? Hmm? You spent a few hours with her.”
“And in that short amount of time, I saw more genuine concern for you than I ever saw from either of your ex-wives.”
Paul considered her words, recalled the way Dianna constantly—albeit gently—steered the conversation in a new direction anytime Matt, Donna, or Annie tried to put Paul under their scrutiny. She’d been so clever at it, he’d hardly noticed.
“Well, I may have told her that I’m tired of you guys nitpicking my mistakes.”
“Nobody—” She cut herself off. It was an argument he suspected she didn’t want to have any more than he did. “We love you, Paul. We don’t like seeing you hurting. Today was the first time you looked happy in a very long time. You even laughed a few times. You may not have noticed, but we did. We all did. And it was obvious she did that for you. So. You should bring her around more often. Even if you aren’t dating. Yet.”
Paul opened his mouth, but Annie ended the call before he could respond. Dropping his cell phone onto the sofa, he picked up the remote and turned the television volume up. He didn’t hear Bruce Willis delivering sarcastic lines, however. His mind was wandering back over the afternoon spent with his family. Annie had said it was the first time he looked happy in a very long time, and he had to admit, after the initial uneasiness wore off, it probably was the first time he’d been happy in a long time. He’d been surrounded by his family, and they’d all been able to relax and enjoy each other. That hadn’t happened for years, it seemed.
Now that Michelle was out of the picture, things were returning to normal. He was happy to be around his family without them scrutinizing him. That’s all it was. His happiness had nothing to do with Dianna. He refused to let his happiness be about Dianna.
Chapter Eight
Dianna was unloading a bag of groceries when her cell phone rang. She set a bag of apples aside as she pulled
the phone from her pocket. She read her attorney’s name on the screen, and her heart plummeted to her stomach.
She held her breath as she connected the call. “Hello?”
“Dianna, it’s Derek Jenson. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
She looked around the empty kitchen. “No, it’s fine.”
“I just wanted to call you and let you know the paperwork just hit my desk. I’ll send you a copy today, but it’s done. Your divorce is final.”
The wind left her, and she couldn’t seem to refill her lungs. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“If you need anything else—”
She hung up before he could finish. Finally, her body resumed function, and she inhaled sharply. Her mouth started to water as her stomach turned. The breakfast she’d eaten just an hour or so before, a bagel and two cups of coffee, surged violently, and the bitterness of bile burned its way up her throat. She darted into the bathroom, salivating as the need to throw up overcame her.
She slammed the door behind her and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. Luckily her hair was pulled back in a bun so she didn’t dip it into the water or coat it with vomit as she lost control and retched violently. She vomited again, and then a third time, continuing until there was nothing left in her stomach and she was simply heaving.
Curling up, she hugged her legs and dropped her forehead to her knees as she took slow deep breaths, letting her mind wrap itself around the finality of her marriage. After a long time, she managed to pull herself from the floor to the sink, where she rinsed her mouth and splashed cool water on her face.
At some point, she collapsed on the sofa, where she alternated between feeling numb and wishing the world would stop spinning and her suffering could end.
“Mom?” Sam’s tone sounded concerned, as if he’d called out several times.
Dianna blinked and looked up at him.
“What’s wrong?”
She tried to smile, but tears fell from her eyes. Of all the horrible things she’d had to tell him the last six months—Dad left, Dad’s seeing someone else, Dad filed for divorce—this was probably the worst.
