All Fore Revenge
Page 8
“Whatever her job description is, it doesn’t include leaving her lip prints all over his balls,” I answered.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Kerri said, patting my hand.
“You didn’t tell Bill you knew for a fucking month?” Shurre shrieked. “Are you into self-torture now, or what? Why?”
“I don’t know.” I looked out the window at the cedared hills behind the house. “I needed time to think what to do.”
“So what’s Old Faithful have to say about Mr. Bike?” Shurre asked.
“Oh, I guess he doesn’t like it, but that’s tough shit. I’m gonna tell him I want a separation.”
“Separation?” Shurre repeated. “What are you, stupid? Divorce the son of a bitch and take him for all he’s worth!”
“I’m working up to the whole divorce concept.” At least Kerri would understand my motive. “I’ve been waiting for Brianna to be out of the picture. That little tramp is not going to marry him, if I have to kill one of them to prevent it! Besides, right now Andy is blaming me for all the trouble around the house.”
“Oh, Ali, Ali,” Shurre sighed. Sharing her vast experience with rookie me, she cajoled, “The kids are gonna blame you at least part of the time, no matter how it goes down. Didn’t you ever blame your mom when your dad left?”
I felt my face heat. One time I’d even said something rotten to Mom about how she must have been a “crummy” wife for Dad to go off and find a new one.
“Don’t feel bad, Ali, I did too,” Kerri soothed. “So what about Bike Boy? If he sent you all these flowers, he must be romantic, or really appreciative of the sex.”
I shook my head. “It’s not supposed to be like that. It’s not like that. I mean, he has a girlfriend. I think. A date, anyway. I told him to see other women. I can’t get involved with him.”
“You are involved, girlfriend,” Shurre advised me. “A month in the sack plus flowers equals involved.”
“No. It’s not like that.” My sister and friend looked at each other like I was crazy and they knew something I didn’t. “He called last night when I was wrecked from the wine, and I… um, said things I shouldn’t have. He found a girlfriend like I told him to. I don’t wanta keep hurting him, so I told him not to call anymore.”
“Well, he’ll call for sure, then. Tell a guy to leave you alone, and he’s on you like stink on skunk. It’s called hard to get, Ali. Good work!” While Shurre was congratulating me on accidentally manipulating Cam, my phone rang.
“Hi Bill,” I answered, standing to pace while I talked.
“Al. Good morning,” he purred. I could hear his office phone ringing. “Did you sleep well?”
“Fine. What’s up?” Wow. Was he not going to answer the other call? Since when did I take priority?
“Fly down and see me, Al. We’ll go to Cancun together, for my tournament.”
“Bill, I don’t want to see you.”
My girls gave me thumbs up from the table.
“Ever?”
“Maybe.”
“What is this then? What are we doing?”
“You need a name for it?”
Shurre was cutting an index finger across her neck.
“Separation. We’re separated, okay?”
My pal shook her head, disappointed that I didn’t use the stronger, more permanent “d” word.
“Is this really what you want?”
“I’ve never wanted this. I don’t know what I do want. But what I don’t want is you. You suck!”
“You want the guy with the bike,” he accused.
“Bill.” I sighed. Maybe the cold, hard truth would send him running. “I’ve had the guy with the bike.”
Kerri sucked in her breath, then covered her giggles with her hands.
“Alison!” Bill was shocked and hurt. It felt great.
“We’re over, you and I. Feel free to have orgies in your office, or whatever.” I should have known the reverse psychology would kick in.
“I won’t, Honey. I’ll forgive you. We’re even, okay? I won’t have anybody but you. It’s you I love.”
“Whatever.” I hung up and tossed my phone at the quilt-covered couch.
“Bravo, girlfriend!” Shurre cheered over her clapping. I followed my phone to the couch and flopped face down. It had sounded like I was being strong with Bill, but this sucked. I’d never wanted to tell my husband I didn’t want him anymore, or that he was free to sleep with whoever he chose. I wanted my life back, idyllic, like it was supposed to be.
Shurre’s hand squeezed my shoulder sympathetically. “I know, hon. It sucks. It will suck sometimes. What you need is a mental-health fuck. Go out and corral yourself the hottest piece of ass you can. Just don’t get knocked up. Take it from me, nothing taints the memory of recovery sex like morning sickness.”
“Oh, Shurre. It makes my troubles seem small, remembering the fixes you’ve been in.” I wiped my tears, then made a quick trip to the bathroom to do the drunk’s Hail Mary at the toilet. When I emerged, Shurre was speaking into my cell phone.
“Okay, nice talking to ya. She’s right here,” she said. Bouncing her brows, she handed me the phone.
“Hello?” I expected it to be Bill, calling back to berate me for screwing Cam.
“Ali?” It was Cam. “I’m sorry, I know you told me not to call anymore.”
Shurre’s brows did the I-told-you-so dance.
“It’s okay,” I sighed, sitting again on the couch.
“Are you alright? I’ve been worried about you.”
“It’s just a hangover, Cam. Nature’s way of reminding you not to poison your body with spoiled fruits and grains for fun.”
“Yeah. I guess. Look, do you have internet access there? E-mail?”
“Yeah. My address is my name, at yahoo. Look, don’t be sending me…”
“It’s important you see what I’m sending you, okay? I have to go, I’m taking Em to Prescott for the day. Don’t be alone today, promise?”
“No. I have work to do later. I’m fine.”
“Ali…”
“Just go, Cam. Have fun. I’m okay. I’m going to see other guys while I’m here. I’m… fine. Bye.”
“Looks like it’s your day to give guys the shake,” Kerri observed dryly. “Why’d you do that to him?”
“Don’t start, Kerri. We have no future, Cam and I. He was good revenge therapy, but that’s it. That’s it.” All the things I was trying hard to believe had to be repeated. I booted up my laptop and logged on my e-mail. There was Cam’s message.
Ali,
I’ll check in with you later. Can’t guess how you’ll feel about this. Check out this link.
Please be careful with the other guys.
Love,
Cam
I clicked the link, which took me to the site of the Free Press, where a certain article was spotlighted. “Oh shit, shit, shit,” I muttered.
Shurre and Kerri leaned over my shoulders as the page loaded. There was the picture of Cam and I on the bicycle, and beside it a photo of him feeding me chocolate and holding me. The caption between them read, “CJ and Ali Moreton are a prime example of the city’s new tourism marketing plan to promote Prescott as a City of Love. The couple of five years biked and basked in the romantic aura of our downtown by day, and likely rented a room for the night.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” I repeated. “I can’t believe that jerk-off photographer followed us around after he got the picture on the bike!”
“He is F-I-N-E, fine!” Shurre cooed. “How do you always attract the good ones?”
Hey! “Cam only told that reporter we were Mr. and Mrs. Moreton. How’d he get my first name?”
“You rich people and your goddamn monograms,” Shurre laughed. “Look at your helmet, dummy!” Sure enough, on the side of my helmet in tape were the letters A-L-I.
“That was from the charity bike race for the boys’ school! I used my name instead of a number. Oh, dammit.” I buried my face in my hands w
hile Shurre and Kerri oohed and ahhed over Cam. “Leave it to me to fuck up fucking around.”
“At least you started with Grade A stock,” Kerri joked with a pat on my head. “I can’t believe you’d be stupid enough to toss that one back. He’ll get caught again in NO time.”
“Yeah, no shit. You’ve made me feel much better,” I replied. “But I don’t think I can handle any more of your comforting—it’s Sunday and I can’t buy wine.” Seeing us together in the photos—especially the Hypnosis by Chocolate one—made me wish I hadn’t pushed Cam to date around. It made me want to run right back to Phoenix and throw myself at his feet.
“This is no time for her to get serious with another guy,” Shurre advised Kerri. “She’s all screwed up in her head. Trust me, starting a relationship in that condition is a good way to latch on to Mr. Only-Wants-Weak-and-Needy-Women or Mr. Possessive, or even Mr. Fists. Been there, done ‘em all.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Only, weren’t you the one insisting I was already involved with him just a few minutes ago?”
“Just because I think you’re already over the edge doesn’t mean I can’t point out it was a steep drop after that last step,” Shurre responded with a wry grin.
“Jesus. So much help abounds. Suicide Sisters, you are welcome to take a break from depressing me, anytime. Where are my sons, anyway, Kerri?”
“Jack took all the kids to the lake. Wanta go join them?”
“Thanks for the invite, but I’m really in the middle of a writing storm. I’m itching to get back at the keyboard.” To emphasize, I clicked open a document and scrutinized it intently.
“Ohhh-kayy then. C’mon Shurre, we must not hamper the process.”
In mere seconds, Axl Rose was screaming from Kerri’s stereo again.
Left to my own devices, I shut my computer and cried over it for a bit, ‘til I nodded off to sleep.
*
My mom’s house in town still felt foreign to me, as I imagined it always would. The important thing was it smelled like home. Mom’s musk perfume, Aqua Net, and Kool-Aid.
She welcomed me with the warm hug that felt familiar, if a little softer than it used to be. Mom was proud of me, and thought I’d made a great choice in husband, even if he had taken me far away. She’d taken full advantage of having a reason to visit Phoenix every winter. Mom would be nearly as devastated as me when my marriage ended.
Despite her pride in my so-called successful life, her joy was always tinged by regret that I didn’t go to church. More specifically, I didn’t go to her church. At some point in every visit, she’d inject a bit of godliness, or an invitation to attend the next meeting. When she visited my home she didn’t miss a service, having me drive her and pick her up for each one. I tolerated the religion better than Kerri did, but supposed it was because she lived nearby and was subjected to it more frequently than I was.
“Your boys are growing like weeds,” she informed me, sitting across from me at her table.
“I know. Sometimes it seems like they visibly grow between bedtime and morning,” I sighed.
“You’re here early this year. Andy said Bill’s still home. ‘All alone,’ were his exact words. He seemed worried about his dad.”
“It was a good time for us to come, is all. Bill and I are going through a… rough spot… Andy picked up on it. Part of why I came now is to spare the kids seeing us fight.”
“Will said you don’t fight, because Bill’s never home. I have this book. You two should sit down with one of the elders, and…”
“Mom. No book, or elder, is gonna help with this, okay? We’re handling it, but you should be prepared…”
“Don’t say it! You’re not getting a divorce. Your life is so good, honey. Do you want to throw that away?”
“Momma, it wouldn’t be like it was for you. I have my own money, remember? And my boys are older. Maybe things aren’t as perfect as they look to everybody on the outside.”
“You’re not getting divorced, Alison Jade.”
“Well, just don’t talk about it any more with the boys, okay? If they say anything, just try to be casual. I love you, Mom. But I need to go. I have to write now.”
I left, wishing I had more booze at the house to self-medicate with. Oh well, the sooner I dealt with my feelings sober, the sooner they’d go away.
*
After a long, punishing run along the country roads, I caught the thread of my story and basked in my uninterrupted quiet, happily tapping the story as it came to me.
Late in the evening, my phone startled me out of a daze. As I reached to answer it, I realized my neck hurt from leaning forward, and my vision was clouded from staring at the screen for hours on end.
“Mm, h’lo?” I answered.
“Ali,” Cam sighed. “Are you alone?”
“Yes. I’ve been writing. How was your ride with Emily?”
“Good. You opened the e-mail?”
“Mmm-hmm. I can’t believe that jackass followed us around and didn’t ask if he could take other pictures.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice. I could probably cause him some legal trouble over it, if you want.”
“Oh, that would only make it bigger news, wouldn’t it? Just let it go.”
“Was that your friend there this morning?”
“Yeah, and my sister, too.”
“You tell them about us?”
“I told them everything. They were here when Bill called. I told him I want a separation.”
Cam let out his breath. “Did he go for it?”
“He doesn’t have a choice, does he? I told him to sleep with whoever he wants. I don’t care anymore.”
“You don’t care?”
“Why should I?”
“Maybe because you’ve been married to him for fourteen years? Just saying you don’t care doesn’t make it so, Ali. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face those ugly feelings. What about us?”
“Cam. You have a girlfriend. Give her a fair shake. I can’t be going into another relationship the way I am. I need… I don’t know, space.” Space sounded good.
“Tell you what, Ali. I’m gonna respect your need for space. You see who you want to. It might be good for you to date. But I’m going nowhere. And I’m not letting the space come between us while you’re out sowing wild oats. It’s not fair to trash what we might have just because it came along at the wrong time.”
“Cam…”
“Ali. Don’t make me say what you don’t want to hear. Don’t make me show up there to show you how true it is. You won’t forget me while you’re there. And you will miss me.”
“You don’t know me well enough to care so much about what’s happening with me.” It felt like an accusation, and I hated myself the second the words were out.
“I know,” he admitted. “I’m not sure why… but I intend to find out.”
“When are you seeing Ms. BMX again?”
“Randi,” he sighed. “Her name is Randi.”
“Randy? Is she butch?”
He laughed. “Yeah, much more butch than you.”
“Will she get to meet Emily?” I held my breath while I waited for his answer.
“Doubtful.”
“Okay. Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“E-mail me anytime you want. Or call. Or text. Whatever.”
“Oh, I forgot. Did my flowers get you in hot water?”
“No. I told him I was out biking with you Thursday. And he saw me loading the flowers yesterday. This morning when he asked me if I wanted you, I told him I’ve had you.”
“Whoa! That was probably a shock. He should be showing up anytime to fight for you.”
“Not Bill. He’s ready for a newer, more enviable model by now anyway.” I didn’t believe for a minute that old Bill was sitting around nursing a broken heart, pining for me.
“Ali. Go out and have fun. You’ll see you’re still a hot model. Just be careful, please. And no falling in love.”
*
It was easy losing myself in my story. I worked ‘til all hours of the night, took early morning walks, and slept through the heat of the day with the smelly old swamp cooler humming in the window, drowning out the sounds of daytime. When afternoon faded into evening, I’d rouse myself and do it all over again. I felt like a drunk on a never-ending binge, minus hangovers or chance of cirrhosis.
All Fore Revenge
Chapter 7
After days of immersing myself in my writing, I answered the phone one evening, and Mom invited me to lunch the next day. This presented some logistical difficulty, since I was normally passed out asleep at lunchtime.
“What day is it?” I asked sleepily.
“Saturday, dear. Are you sick?”
Not physically, Mum. “No, I’m sorry. I was confused. Don’t you have, um, church tomorrow?”
“Yes, then there’s a lunch at Elsie’s. She’d really like to see you, and so would a lot of other people. Please? You’ve hardly visited anybody since you’ve been here, Alison. I’m worried about you.”
“Okay, Mom. What time?”
Saturday already , I thought to myself when I hung up. Where had the week gone? I guess I knew the week was getting on, since Bill checked in regularly, and he was now in Cancun for a three-day tournament. Cam had gone on a date the night before, with Randi the Dyke. I liked to picture her as an Amazon woman, rough and tough and, hopefully, ugly as homemade sin.
I couldn’t bring myself to call Cam—he might still be with her. So I worked through the night, as I had all week. I crawled into bed around six a.m., after a hard run, sweaty and too tired to shower before I slept. Thoughts of Cam made me realize I hadn’t had sex in too long. Maybe later I’d pull out the vibrator and take the edge off. I fell into a hard sleep, with the alarm set for twelve.
*
My cell rang just before noon.
“’Lo?” I murmured, trying without success to pry my eyes open.
“Ali. Did I wake you? I’ll call back later,” Cam said.
“No, it’s—it doesn’t matter. I have to meet my mom for lunch. Hold on,” I said, turning off the alarm. “Time to get up anyway.”