The Next Wife

by Kaira Rouda

  But like a lot of his promises, it was just another illusion.

  CHAPTER 58

  KATE

  In the dressing room, my pulse is racing as I slip off the formal gown they had me wear for the photo shoot.

  I’m not sure if it’s brilliant, or stupid, or both, but I am going to see Tish tonight. I know Bob wouldn’t approve, but someone has to get control of the situation. Despite the fact she knows we can prove the will is fake, and we will reinstate his real one, the problem remains: she is still around. I realize for my life to get back to some semblance of normal, she can’t be here.

  I need to be the one to deal with this once and for all.

  I walk out of the dressing room with a smile and hand the gown to Nathan, the shoot director.

  “I wish I could keep this,” I say.

  “Don’t they all.”

  Ashlyn rolls her eyes. “It’s a little fairy tale for you, Mom.”

  “I can still believe in happily ever after,” I say. My phone rings as we walk out into the late afternoon sunshine.

  “Mrs. Nelson. It’s Chief Briggs. Do you have a minute?”

  I stop walking and put the phone on speaker so Ashlyn can hear.

  “Do you have the report?”

  “We do, someone poured water in Ashlyn’s gas tank,” he says.

  “Like a water bottle?” I ask.

  “No, much more than that. Like someone turned on a garden hose full blast,” he says. “So much water. Whoever did it wanted to fry the electrical circuit, and they succeeded. She could have been killed if she was on a highway.”

  Ashlyn gasps. “I can’t believe her. She’s out of control.”

  “Who?” Briggs asks.

  I raise my finger to my lips and mute my phone. “I think we should handle Tish ourselves, Ashlyn. It’s the only way. I’m meeting her tonight.”

  “Mom, that’s too dangerous,” Ashlyn says.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say and unmute the phone.

  “Oh, Chief, Ashlyn thinks a boy she broke up with might have done it. We’re not going to press any charges. He feels terrible I’m sure,” I say.

  Ashlyn shrugs but goes along with me. “That’s right, Mom.”

  “Well, you all let me know if you change your mind. You’ve had a lot to handle, Mrs. Nelson. Call me if you need me,” he says and hangs up.

  Ashlyn stares at me.

  “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.” I give her a hug. “I’m going to go visit your dad’s grave, if you want to join me. I haven’t been there yet, and I need closure.” I don’t even know where Tish put him. I still cannot believe he isn’t in the family plot as we planned. I clench my fists. It can wait, but it needs to be done, if for optics only.

  Ashlyn shakes her head. “I’m not ready to do that. It’s weird. I’m mad at Dad right now. Really mad at him for falling for Tish. And what he did to you.”

  “I understand. I do. Feeling angry is completely normal, honey,” I say. “I’ll be home by eight. And I’ll drive you to the airport. I love you.”

  “Come home after the cemetery, OK? We’ll go to Tish’s house together tonight.”

  I lean forward against my car. “There’s nothing to worry about. Everything is under control. And I’ll handle her myself. Do you need a ride home?”

  “No, thanks, Seth’s on his way. Don’t go there without me. Promise?”

  I shrug and smile. “Sure.”

  But I’m lying. I will visit Tish alone.

  As I slip into my car, I remember the last time I saw John. He needed me, again. He was growing tired of Tish’s lack of depth, her attachment to material things, her refusal to read. Anything. John and I, at our last secret rendezvous before the IPO, before she yanked him to Colorado, were both making fun of his wife. We sat at our favorite restaurant downtown, joking about our clandestine get-together.

  I’d spotted him in his favorite back booth and waved as I made my way to him. “Hey. Is the coast clear?”

  He stood up and touched my shoulder. “Good to see you, Kate, or should I say, Mabel? And yes, the coast is clear. Although I do feel a little terrible about it, the sneaking around.”

  I slid into the booth. I said, “She made us do it. She’s the one who insists I call her to speak to you. It’s crazy. That’s no way to do business.”

  “Or anything else. I know. She’s over-the-top jealous of you. Of your career, your success. Everything. She comes from a very different place than you and I did. She had a really tough childhood. I don’t have many specifics. I only know that she was poor and her mom was neglectful, but I’m starting to believe it was even worse than she lets on. Tish has a really violent temper just beneath the surface. I’m not used to that. You were always so calm, so understanding.”

  I remember thinking, How nice. I was so considerate you decided to leave me. I said, “We built everything we have. It wasn’t easy for us, either. She has it really good now, but she’s acting like a toddler having daily temper tantrums,” I said, grabbing the menu before I said any more. I wanted to keep our line of communication open, the relationship growing again. “I’m starving. You?”

  “Yes. Lately, my blood pressure medicine makes me famished. I’m just feeling off. It’ll be good to get this IPO out of the way and deal with other things. I want to be happy again, Katie.” John kept his eyes on the menu.

  And that’s when I knew. He would get the IPO done, and then he’d get rid of Tish.

  “What will make you happy again?”

  “I don’t know exactly. It’s exhausting. I understand why it frustrates you, just trying to get business done. I’m sort of sick of the whole situation, too. She’s always glancing at my phone, trying to see my messages. It’s funny you need a special name just to talk to me. Funny, and sad. I think she’s figured out Mabel is you, by the way. I’m tired of all of it. I miss this. Us.” John pushed a hand through his hair before waving for the waiter.

  As for me, I spent the rest of our lunch relishing the notion that Tish’s time, Tish’s hold over our family, was coming to an end.

  I was wrong then, but I’m not now.

  I turn onto the road to the cemetery with mixed feelings. I do want to visit John’s grave. For many reasons, not the least of it is the sense of finality it should provide. The resolve, too. As I drive, I remember something I read about the positive effects of anger. Angry people have a lot in common with happy people. Both tend to be more optimistic. It’s true. Take, for example, one study of the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. In the study, those experiencing anger expected fewer attacks in the future. I feel certain seeing John’s headstone will have the same effect.

  It’s likely not a wise move to meet with Tish alone, to try to strike a deal. But it is what I need. What my company needs. I’ll write up a proposal she can’t refuse.

  After a quick stop at the caretaker’s cottage, I have a map, John’s burial site marked with an X. It’s a quick drive to the rolling green hills of the cremated burial area. The nerve. I find John’s simple headstone, a plain marker for an exceptional man, a man who was led astray by a younger version of his wife and suffered the consequences. Yes, a cliché. But my cliché. I take a photo, just to remember this spot. To remember my resolve.

  I touch the cold white stone. “John. I’m going to make this right. I’m sorry for everything she did to you, to me, to Ashlyn. But don’t worry. She’ll be gone soon. I promise.”

  I bow my head and say a few more words I know John would want to hear.

  CHAPTER 59

  TISH

  I’m going to pack enough for a long, wonderful, luxurious vacation starting in New York City, then Paris, and ending wherever I want to go. The possibilities are limitless.

  I’ve pulled out my two most expensive trunks, Louis Vuitton of all things. When I first bought them, I wouldn’t take them anywhere. I was afraid the luggage handlers would steal them, and everything inside. I know I would have, at least back in the day.


  John had laughed and told me luggage was supposed to be used and enjoyed. He said that I needed to trust people. That most people are good.

  He was so wrong about that.

  All the windows are open, the shades drawn. My phone lights up with a text. It’s from Chris, my hunky realtor. Problem. I ran the title info on your home. You don’t own it.

  I text back. Yes I do.

  Chris responds immediately. No. It’s owned by a trust. The Ashlyn Nelson Family Trust. Do you know who that is?

  Fuck. My fingers fly over the keypad. Sell the Telluride condo first. I’ll straighten this out with my lawyer.

  Chris texts: Sorry. That’s titled to the Ashlyn Nelson Family Trust, too. So is your Florida property. It’s not your Florida property, actually. None of it is. I’ll come over tonight. We can mess around and make a plan?

  I drop my phone on the kitchen counter.

  I need George. George was supposed to protect me. The will was supposed to be ironclad. I’m going to kill him.

  I text George. Need to talk now. Property not mine. Kate up to something. Help.

  I stare at my phone, waiting for a return text.

  But like the last time I called him, there is no response.

  CHAPTER 60

  KATE

  I sit in my car parked outside of Tish’s house, waiting for 7:00 p.m.

  When my phone buzzes with the alarm I set, I jump.

  It’s time.

  I scan the agreement I drew up once more. I figure if Tish and her shady attorney could download a will off the internet, I could find an official-looking template of my own. I was right.

  I start up the walkway to Tish’s house. Actually, it’s not her house. And I cannot wait to tell her that.

  My stomach clenches as I ring the doorbell and knock on the door. I tell myself to relax. This isn’t a boxing match. This is a business meeting. I take a deep breath.

  Tish and I will come to an agreement. I have what she needs. Money. This is personal. It requires intimacy, talking face to face. I’m the only one who can do this.

  And I will.

  CHAPTER 61

  ASHLYN

  My mom shouldn’t be going there alone. Last night when I was moving out, I left my bedroom window unlocked, just in case I needed to sneak back in for something. The trellis was a handy escape route in high school.

  As I make a plan, I think about the last conversation I had with my dad. He told me he’d agreed with mom’s idea to put all of his real estate holdings into a trust, for me. He told me it was what my mom wanted, and that he was glad he could make her happy. It’s weird to know I own Tish’s house. She didn’t believe me when I told her, but I imagine she’ll find out sometime soon.

  I’m pretty sure real estate transactions weren’t enough for my mom, not after everything he did to her when he married Tish. Did he really expect Mom to just take him back? Sorry, Kate, here, let’s make a trust for Ashlyn as my penance, and I’ll just move back in with you.

  Like the last five years didn’t damage us all to the core. Like the last five years didn’t happen? As if he hadn’t squashed my mom’s big project just when she was ready to launch it this summer. No, Dad, that’s not how the world works. You don’t always get your way.

  And what about me? The damage you did to our relationship was lasting, deep. Once you and Tish hooked up, you barely had time for anyone else. I know you thought we still had a connection, but it was tenuous, transactional. And often, canceled by you. Even the last plans we had, dinner with you, me, and Seth, even that was abruptly called off for Tish. She played you, that’s what she did. She got all the power in the relationship and left you looking like a fool to everyone else: to the employees, to your friends, to Mom, and most especially, to me.

  Did you ever think about what it was like to have a stepmother who was your own age? Did you think about how humiliating it was for Mom to have to work with both of you every day? Did you wonder how we felt when you dropped a bomb on our lives?

  No, you didn’t. It didn’t matter to you. Once you found your “soul mate,” nobody else mattered. You promised nothing would be different, but you lied. I trusted you, and you let me down again and again. I often wondered if you thought Tish was worth it? I guess you had decided she wasn’t. I guess lust doesn’t last, but the damage you did to our family certainly does. You don’t even know how deep the hurt is, the pain, the anger is. And now, you never will.

  Headlights illuminate the front lawn as my mom’s car pulls up and parks at the curb in front of Tish’s house.

  It’s time.

  CHAPTER 62

  TISH

  I’m a little nervous anticipating my next visitor.

  Thank goodness Ashlyn is out of my life forever. I will never speak to her again. She was the first one contesting the will, and now, it’s not worth the paper it was written on. And all along she owned my house? Little bitch.

  Focus, Tish. I’m as prepared as I can be for my little meeting with Kate. I’ll get as much money as I can, and then I’ll get out of here.

  The hunky realtor is set to come by for another romp in an hour, but I’m not sure I’m in the mood. I mean, if I can’t use him to make some cash, what good is he? I should text him and cancel. I am upstairs finishing packing my large trunks. I wish I could fit all of my beautiful things in these two trunks, but I know Sonja will reunite us again soon.

  I imagine the swanky hotel room I’ll check into tonight in New York, the crisp high-thread-count sheets, the twenty-four-hour room service, the spa. A hotel John and I have never been to before, a place his ghost can’t haunt me. This will all just be a bad dream soon.

  I hope Kate has come with a generous offer. I’m young. I should travel, not be chained to a boring corporate job. With me gone, there is no story of a fight between two Mrs. Nelsons. Kate will be pleased. This will be a win-win for both of us. As for Uncle George, he better call and apologize. I can’t believe Kate was able to unravel his scheme so quickly. Too bad for him, but I’m not paying the rest of his retainer, no way. And if Kate presses charges, I’ll tell them it was all George’s idea. I’m just a helpless widow.

  George will never know how much Kate pays me tonight. This is my deal, all for me.

  I look in the mirror and decide full evening makeup is in order. As I smooth on foundation, I remind myself to transfer the cash from our joint account to the new one I’ve set up—the one where Kate will make a generous deposit soon. I check out my reflection in the mirror, and my confidence cracks. Who am I kidding? I’m not a step ahead of Kate, I’m not sure I ever was. But I’m about to be free. I’m rich and young and I can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone.

  I smile at the thought as I apply mascara and note I need concealer under my eyes again. Because I was haunted as usual last night by John. I know, it’s crazy, but he’s in my dreams. And not in the romantic sense. Last night, John kept offering me a drink, begging me to take it. Every time I said no, or pushed the glass away, his arm dissolved into the air, only to reappear with the same margarita glass in his hand.

  “Come on, Tish. Let’s have a little toast,” John repeated over and over.

  I take a deep breath and add blush to my cheeks. This is almost over. All of it. George kept telling me all would work out as long as I stayed cool, whatever that means. He didn’t like the fact I flipped John’s desk. That “wasn’t cool,” as he put it. He doesn’t understand the pressure I’m under, or how horrible it is with everyone spying on me at the office.

  The last time I talked to him, he asked for more money. That’s all this ever was to him.

  “I’ve paid you all you’re going to get. The whole thing is falling apart. Quit milking this.” Greedy son of a gun is on my last nerve. But he got me this far. Once Kate and I make a deal, I won’t need him anymore. She wants me gone. And for once, we agree on something.

  The last time we spoke, he’d said, “Behave yourself, Terry Jane. You can’t be so angry, so mean all the
time.” I didn’t appreciate George’s tone or the use of my hated real name. But he hung up before I could reply. And we haven’t talked since. And he won’t answer my text messages. As far as I’m concerned, he’s gone.

  Good riddance. I check the time. Almost 7:00 p.m., and it’s still a balmy eighty degrees outside. There’s just nothing like Columbus in August. But I can handle the heat and humidity. It’s not that different here from rural Kentucky. I take that back—it’s a world away from Pineville.

  It’s so quiet in my house, for once, I almost want to scream. But I don’t. Because I’ve learned to control myself, just like Uncle George says. I’ve learned to be cool.

  I check my outfit in the mirror. I look good. And even though I enjoyed my time with hunky Chris, I won’t be jumping into bed with him tonight. No, I need to stay cleaned up until my flight. I slip on my necklace from John. As I put it on, I enjoy the sparkles from the diamonds, the twinkle of the gold chain. I double it so it frames my neck in luxury. My wedding ring glistens in the evening light, too, although I’ve moved it to my other hand. It’s too gorgeous not to wear, but I’m no longer married, so it doesn’t feel right on my left ring finger. I’m rich but available, I’m advertising. I search through my jewelry box, shoving everything expensive into my carry-on bag. Sparkly valuables are the best. Maybe I’ll meet someone on the flight. I’m in first class, so it should be good hunting. I should rephrase that. I’m not a grifter. I’m not really a con artist. Not really.

  I promise I’ve always been looking for love.

  It just seems to be almost impossible to find.

  Maybe I’ve looked in the wrong places. I’m suffocating here, where everyone knows everyone’s business and someone like me sticks out like an exotic flower in a field of dandelions. No, thank you. I’m suited for a big city, bigger than Columbus, and I’ll be there soon.

  It’s only a few hours until it’s time to go to the airport. This next chapter of life is going to be so fun. I decide to take one last look at all of my fabulous clothes and purses in my closets. Sonja will box everything and send it all to a storage facility where I can retrieve what I want, whenever I want. Until then, I blow my closet a kiss goodbye and turn out the light.