The Next Wife

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The Next Wife Page 4

by Kaira Rouda


  And Tish? I suppose she pulled us apart without trying. Being there, being so damn there with her perky breasts, short skirts, always just smiling at me no matter how terse I was, no matter how frustrated I was with Kate. Tish was like running away to a private Caribbean island in the midst of stress and grown-up problems. A temptation I was too weak to ignore.

  It’s not her fault. It’s all mine.

  “Look at that waterfall.” Tish points into the mountains, and I pretend to care.

  “Pretty.” I am such a fool. I threw everything I had away for pretty.

  I remember telling Ashlyn I’d found true love. I’d moved out of our home, away from Ashlyn and Kate, and into a flashy condo on the sixteenth floor, overlooking the city. Tish loved it. Ashlyn hated every inch of the space.

  “This is what people live in when they’re young, just starting out,” she’d scoffed, all sixteen years of wisdom looking at me with disdain as she walked in the door. How could she possibly know anything? She didn’t. I mean, the condo was no starter pad. I’d been there, done that with Kate, complete with cockroaches and mice in the kitchen drawer.

  I’ll never forget that moment. Kate’s scream was so loud and urgent I thought someone was in the tiny kitchen murdering her. I ran from the front room into the kitchen to find my newlywed wife frozen.

  “There’s something in there. With bright-red eyes.” She pointed to the closed kitchen drawer, her finger trembling.

  I yanked the drawer open, revealing our measly collection of thrift shop silverware and nothing else.

  “It’s gone.” I smiled. The hero.

  “It’ll be back,” she answered, still shaking. “We have to move. Find another apartment. Or never use that drawer. All of those drawers.”

  Kate was like that. Take charge. All or nothing. Black and white. Fearless in life and business. She went from top of her class at UCLA to running one of the best start-ups in the country. She was successful in everything she touched.

  Until we started fighting about everything. Until I began to resent the fact that she was always right. Until I couldn’t bear it. Until I betrayed her.

  Back then, I was her knight in shining armor, even though she didn’t need one. Except to handle the mice.

  “We can’t afford to move. I’ll tape up the drawers.” I knew better than to come up with a solution that involved pesticides. She’d never agree to that. Or to a trap. And so we’d lived there another year, with taped-up drawers and hundreds of mice running throughout the old apartment’s walls. And we were so happy. Some days we’d be working so long, so intently, we’d forget to eat. Who needs silverware when you’re in love and building a business?

  I had three drawers of real silver in the new penthouse Ashlyn stood inside that day. I shook my head, indignant at the time. How could she understand? She was only sixteen.

  “This is a sophisticated penthouse, the finest on the market downtown. It’s certainly not a starter apartment, Ash.”

  “You’re clearly having a midlife crisis.”

  I held my ground. “No, that’s not true. I found my soul mate. I hope you’re as happy for me as I am. Tish and I are moving in together.” I didn’t even have a doubt as I told my daughter this. Not then.

  Ashlyn had been seated on the sleek white leather sofa facing the view of the downtown skyline, but she stood and yelled: “Your soul mate just happens to be your assistant? Come on. You looked far and wide, not really of course, and suddenly your soul mate materialized at that desk. It was karma, is that it?” Ashlyn was angry, sure, but I wanted her to understand. To realize how happy I was. “Your soul mate babysat me! She’s four years older than me. Oh my god.”

  When Ashlyn left, slamming the door behind her, I didn’t worry. We had a great father-daughter relationship, and it would be fine between the two of us. Ashlyn and I were close when she was growing up. I was the fun parent, the one who said yes when Kate said no. The dad who volunteered at school, who went on the sixth-grade campout. The dad who stuck up for his daughter when she was accused of cheating on a test. “My daughter would never,” I’d said to the prune-faced principal. Ashlyn’s face had been streaked with tears, afraid. I didn’t even need to ask her if it was true. I would make it false.

  “This is preposterous,” I’d said, and watched Ashlyn relax against the chair. “I’m taking her home.” And I did. We even stopped for a scoop of Jeni’s ice cream. Lavender. Our favorite. The next morning in class, her teacher apologized, and Ashlyn’s straight-A record was intact. I always wondered if those grades were for her, for me, or for her mom. Doesn’t matter, I guess.

  Just like back then, I knew how to win over my daughter. She’d be happy for me. She would come around. Ashlyn and Tish had fun together. I’d witnessed it firsthand. Once she was over the shock of it all, she’d be fine.

  And I was in love with a beautiful young woman who adored me. Win-win, I thought.

  I shake my head at the memory. That day, like many others, did not go as planned. I’ve been so wrong.

  “Earth to John.” Tish stares at me. What did I miss? What did I mess up? A neon-blue butterfly floats between us and glides away through the deep grass of the valley. I wish I could follow.

  I need to take a break. From everything. “Can we sit? There’s a picnic spot just around the bend.”

  Tish turns to keep walking in the lead. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out.

  Text: I’m worried about you. Call me?

  Well, that’s sweet. My heart thumps with excitement.

  I text: I’m fine ☺ back tomorrow.

  “What are you doing? Texting during our hike? Who is so important?” Tish grabs at my phone, but I delete the texts and shove the phone into my pocket. I’m tired of her snooping, of her trying to get into my business. She tries to control everything.

  “It’s none of your business!” I yell too loudly, and now I’m dizzy. Damn it. I feel my legs buckle and I hit the trail with a thud, landing on my knees before sitting down. That’ll be two big bruises on my kneecaps, but I learned my lesson last time I toppled over up here. Bend your knees and drop. It’s more than nine thousand feet.

  Tish’s shadow falls over my face. “We are a team. We’re married. We’re in love. We worked together until yesterday. We share everything. You are my business. I don’t appreciate sharing your attention during our romantic weekend.”

  I don’t appreciate her tone. I must admit I don’t appreciate her much at all anymore. I force myself back to my feet, dusting the trail dirt off my shorts. “You’re right, dear. We are married.” For right now. But not for much longer. Suddenly it’s all clear. I’ll make it through this weekend and then beg Kate to take me back if she’ll have me. Will she?

  No, stop, I’m getting ahead of myself. First things first. I need to calm down. I take a deep breath and gaze at the top of the majestic mountains, jagged blue peaks against a forever sky.

  I wish I were alone, with time to think. I would take a leisurely stroll through the old town of Telluride, a town wedged into a box canyon surrounded by cliffs. Or go white-water rafting, or relax in the golf clubhouse after a round. But I’m not alone. I just need to get through this weekend with the least amount of stress. Once we’re back home, I’ll make my play. I’ll move out, get some space.

  Fix things with my real family.

  In the past few weeks, Kate and I have been laughing together again. We’ve even sneaked away to a couple of lunches, couching them as business appointments. I’ve been swinging by her office, catching up, making plans. We’ve reconnected, I think.

  Was it too much to hope for that Kate might even forgive me one day and take me back?

  I remember our last meal together. Kate and I sat in the corner of what used to be our favorite restaurant, almost like nothing had changed although everything had.

  “John, you don’t look good,” Kate said.

  “Why, thank you,” I answered. “I’m fine, really. I do appreciate yo
ur concern, though. It’s nice to know you care.”

  Kate tilted her head and leaned forward. “I always did. It’s you who stopped caring. But anyway, just promise to get enough sleep. I hear that’s the secret to a healthy life.”

  “Yes, I read the study, too. Thanks, Katie.” I wasn’t allowed to call her that, not anymore. And yet, she allowed it.

  “You’re welcome. Make sure you’re taking your blood pressure meds, too. Don’t forget. We only have one more week until the IPO. I’m worried about you, even though it’s not my place now.”

  “I want it to be your place. Thank you,” I said, my heart pinging with guilt and renewed love. She still cared about me. She and I both knew how much stress was coming our way with the IPO scheduled. That’s why she gave me a bottle of relaxation pills from her naturopath. She was taking them, too. Said it helped her, and she knew I needed it more. We both felt overwhelmed. But only one of us had an unhappy, demanding spouse. My heart was taking a beating, and much of it was self-inflicted. I was such a fool.

  When the waiter appeared, we both leaned back. The moment was over, but I knew our love wasn’t. I felt something reconnecting between us. It’s like finding a favorite sweater that was at the bottom of your drawer, and you pull it on, and it feels just right. In fact, it felt great.

  Kate probably wouldn’t appreciate the old-sweater analogy, but we were so comfortable together, our lives still woven together. We’d even started collaborating outside of work. Kate suggested combining our real estate portfolios again, all our homes, and placing the properties in a trust for Ashlyn. I’d agreed happily. It felt good to be building trust again, literally and figuratively. A big step toward a brighter future together, I hope.

  I pull myself into the present, taking a deep inhale of clean mountain air. I keep my tone light and reach for Tish’s hand. “I’m all yours, babe. What’s next on our itinerary?”

  See, I’ve still got it. I watch her face flush. She believes I’m still in love with her.

  CHAPTER 7

  TISH

  He’s such a liar. I mean, I guess I am a little bit, too, since I’m grinning at him right now like he’s telling the truth. I know him better than that.

  How dare he talk to her while he’s hiking with me in the very place where he proposed? I stop on the trail and turn back to John. He’d better realize where we stand.

  From the look on his face, he does. “Oh, honey, I just realized this is the spot. Come over here.”

  My heart melts. He loves me, just me. Only me. I run into his arms, and he swings me around. I laugh. We are a Lifetime movie. It’s wonderful. He’s everything I dreamed about all those years ago. Everything I never had. Everything I always wanted. A loving man, a happy home, and a successful career: all the things girls in my hometown never thought they could have. I knew what I wanted. I found it. The perfect job. And then the perfect boss turned into my dream husband. I worked hard to get it. I am not going to let this all go.

  “Ah, shit,” John says as we topple to the ground. “Sorry about that. Got carried away.”

  I am cradled in his strong arms. I’m fine. We’re fine. The grass is warm and soft and tickles my cheek. I pick a bright-yellow daisy and stick it behind my ear. “I love you, John.”

  It really can be this simple again. When Sandra in HR offered me the executive assistant job five years ago, I didn’t know who I’d be supporting. I had some experience, albeit embellished. Everyone does it. I didn’t have any interest in school—I just wanted out of my hometown as fast as possible, and so I left.

  There was nothing for me in Pineville. No one had ever been there for me, not really. And once stepdaddy number two died, Momma just about died with him of grief, locked sobbing in her bedroom for days. He hadn’t laid a hand on me in a month on the day he died. As for my dear old mom, soon she’d be finished grieving, and she’d focus on me. I knew the pattern. I was gone before I could feel her wrath again. And I never looked back.

  A few months after I moved to Cincinnati, I realized the fastest way out was up, through a man. I met Ron the dentist while I was waitressing. He sat in my booth, morning after morning, at Bob Evans. A few weeks into our flirting, he slipped me a card and told me he’d love to fix my smile. How romantic. But I needed my crappy teeth fixed, straightened, whitened, and whatever else. And he was lonely, so it worked, for a bit.

  Another way up was through an executive. Mr. Howe was my first corporate boss, a big step up from waitressing made possible by my newly straightened teeth and a Ron-sponsored professional wardrobe. Mr. Howe was grossly overweight and headed a real estate company. He thought he was god and acted as such. I showed him respect and a lot of thigh, and he doubled my salary.

  The one good thing he did was talk me into getting my GED, said I’d look more professional on my résumé. And he was right, I suppose. I probably would have stayed there longer if his wife hadn’t been such a Bible-thumping, mean-spirited, white-pantyhose-wearing bitch. As if I’d want to touch him. I wouldn’t. But I had two long years there, learned all the computer software an executive assistant needs to know about, and earned my GED before I cashed my very generous severance check, hopped in my car, and moved to Columbus.

  Truth be told, I googled John Nelson after I read a list of the hottest CEOs in the city. Yep, that’s shallow. Guilty. But I’d already worked for a beast of a man. I wanted to have somebody good to look at all day. Sue me.

  So there I sat in front of Sandra’s sleek glass desk, hoping for an offer to support the cute guy I’d googled, or any good-looking executive at EventCo because I didn’t know who was hiring. The job description simply read: administrative support for an executive. That was something I knew I could do. I liked the vibe of the office, the company’s mission. When I walked into the soaring lobby, I felt nothing but possibilities. I mean the lava lamps everywhere were a little much. Everyone said they were Kate’s idea, some sort of environmental branding. Whatever. The place was trendy, cool. Like me. I’d met all the executives, except Kate, in a series of brief speed-dating sessions. I still had no idea who needed help.

  “We would like to offer you the position as John Nelson’s executive assistant.” Sandra pushed a white folder across her desk. “The details of the offer are in the packet. We’ll need an answer within the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Mr. Nelson?” I was pleased I’d rocketed to the top of the résumé pile and landed the job. But surprised? Of course not.

  “Yes. Any other questions?” She glanced at her phone, signaling my time was up.

  I opened the folder, saw the offer, tried to keep from screaming, and said, “I’ll take it.”

  I didn’t know at the time that I’d take him, too, although I must admit the thought did cross my mind. Look, men can only be dislodged from unhappy relationships. Period. If they’re happy with the first, there will be no second, I’m telling you. But I didn’t start this. He did.

  John rolls to his side. My head still rests on his arm. “It was a nice idea for you to bring us here. I know you meant well.”

  I did. Sort of. “Finally glad we’re here? This is our special place.” I kiss the tip of his nose and snuggle into his chest.

  “I am, but there are a lot of loose ends to tie up. With going public and all the employees, it’s a tough time to be away.” John pushes himself to a sitting position, effectively ending our cuddle time. “I’m just not sure this is working.”

  I stare at him as we both turn to see another group of hikers coming our way.

  What did he just say? “John? What’s not working?”

  He blinks. “This vacation. But let’s make the most of this. We’re here. Let’s enjoy today and then we’ll go back home.”

  “Sure. I just thought you’d wrapped everything up. I thought all you needed was time with me.” I am right. He knows it. I wonder if he knows that I know what he’s been doing with his extra time.

  “It’s been busy, crazy busy.” John pulls at a clump
of prairie grass and rubs it between his hands. He nods at the group of hikers who pass by us. He waits until they’re a few feet away before speaking. “It was the biggest deal of my life. It needed all my attention. It was for everybody—you, Ashlyn, Kate, the employees.”

  “Whatever.” It comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. “I wanted it to be about us, you and me.”

  He chuckles. “Of course you did.”

  This isn’t a joke. “We need to get going. I have lunch reservations at the Chop House.”

  I’m kicking myself for letting my anger recede. I was lulled into complacency by his arm around me, by a cuddle in the meadow and a trip down memory lane. I was transported to our engagement: the warmth of the sunshine, the bubbly zing of champagne, the huge diamond ring he slipped on my finger. Like a dream. It really was.

  A dream I made come true. Let me tell you, though, it wasn’t easy. Again, there’s this misconception that the next wife just has it so easy. We bat our eyelashes and like magic, a successful husband appears.

  Don’t believe it. It was work getting to that meadow moment. At first I was happy with my new job in the big city. I found a charming apartment in German Village, leased a new car, and was feeling pretty empowered. I was a young professional woman launching her career in a new city, far enough away from my old Kentucky home that the past was just that. I was Rachel from Friends, Carrie Bradshaw in a smaller city. And I had a couple of dates those first few months in town. I did. With men, or boys really, who were all just out of college, self-centered, and sex driven. Blech.

  I went to work at EventCo the next morning, happy to have escaped the clutches of yet another gangly twentysomething boy, and there sat John. Bespoke business suit. Hair graying at the temples. Blue eyes framed with crinkles. He’d smile at me like I was a burst of sunshine or a hidden treasure, not like a girl he’d like to fuck. And that’s when I knew. I needed to find someone just like John. He was my type, only unavailable.

 

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