Not Your Everyday Housewife

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Not Your Everyday Housewife Page 4

by Mary Campisi


  “You’re always trying to control me.” She slammed Janie’s book on the table. “I can’t wait to go to college next year.”

  “That makes two of us,” Janie said, rolling her eyes. “Can’t you go someplace far away, like Idaho?”

  “I can’t go far away because it’s too expensive, remember? I really want to go to Berkeley but they won’t pay for it.”

  Kiki was an honors student, a pretty girl with long auburn hair, very straight teeth thanks to $4,200 of orthodontia and green eyes like Cyn. She’d only held two part-time jobs, one as a hostess at Bob Evans and the other at Drexel’s Drycleaners, both of which she quit after six weeks because, Working conditions were poor, management was unmanageable.

  “I think that’s enough, young lady.”

  “It’s always enough. It’s not our fault you blew it and quit college to get married. You didn’t do anything with your life and now you’re trying to make us pay for it.”

  “No, that’s not true.” Cyn fought to keep her voice steady. “I’m trying to make you see life isn’t just about you and it’s not always fair, so stop expecting it to be.”

  “You could do this for me, if you really wanted to,” Kiki said.

  “I would only be hurting you in the long run.”

  “That is such psycho parent bullshit.”

  “It’s how your father and I feel.”

  “It’s twisted. You should be doing everything you can to help me and Janie.”

  “I am, and I do.” Who was this stranger?

  “What? Making chocolate chip cookies for the PTA? Baking meatloaf and other gross stuff that nobody wants to eat?”

  “Your father loves my meatloaf.”

  “He might like it more if you brought home a paycheck.”

  “Go to your room,” Cyn exploded. “Now!”

  Kiki grabbed her books and shouted back, “I can’t wait to get out of this house!” She ran past Cyn, boots clicking staccato on the wood floor. When she reached the steps, she threw one last volley. “I can’t wait to get away from you!”

  When Kiki’s bedroom door slammed, Cyn let out a long breath, her gaze sliding over her youngest daughter. Janie sat very still, dark head bent over her algebra book. She didn’t fool Cyn. Janie had formulated her own opinion, for or against her mother. But right now, Cyn didn’t want to know.

  Chapter 5

  Cyn liked to talk to Sam at night when they were in bed. She saved up her concerns and anxieties, mostly about the girls, for the nights when he wasn’t traveling, when she could feel his warm body next to hers, the scent of Lagerfeld faintly covering the sheets. Talking to him was like writing in a journal, only better because she could spill her heart out without paper or pen. Sam, for his part need only provide small sounds of commiseration like “uh huh” and “oh.”

  “Do you think Kiki’s doing drugs?” This had been on her mind since Derry told her about the pot party at the Klingshen’s. The Klingshen’s were nice people, a doctor and a teacher. Molly served as National Honor Society President and she’d been class Secretary the past three years. You just never knew.

  “Why would you say a thing like that?”

  Cyn rubbed her hand along his stomach, moved her fingers in small circles over his chest. “I told you about Molly Klingshen. She’s friends with Kiki. Who knows?”

  “You need to relax, Cyn. Kiki’s a smart girl.”

  “Smart girls make bad choices, too. You didn’t see how she went berserk this afternoon, accusing me of having no life, demanding I get a job so she can go on that damn Spain trip. I have half a mind to call that teacher and chew her out for telling Kiki she was the ideal candidate. Why would a teacher do that? Don’t they know what it does to these kids?”

  “Relax, Cyn. Kiki’s a good kid. She’s got her head on straight.”

  “I’m not sure about that anymore. I thought we were trying to raise socially responsible individuals but the more I see and hear from them, the more I’m afraid we’re turning out a bunch of selfish, spoiled brats, especially our eldest.”

  “She’s got a lot on her mind.”

  “Don’t stick up for her. She’s different these days. We’re barely civil to one another anymore and I just don’t know why.” And then, it hit her, “Oh my God, do you think she’s having sex with Brad?” Just saying it made her nauseous.

  “Are you asking me because you have reason to suspect something, or are you just looking to get yourself committed to an institution?”

  “They could be, you know. This Sunday’s Parade had a huge section on teen sex and drugs.”

  “Oh, you’ve been reading again.”

  “It’s called inquisitive and proactive.”

  “So, you’re going to throw her against the wall and interrogate her?”

  “No, I’ll just gently broach the subject.”

  “You’ve never done anything gently in your life.” He sighed. “I can see World War III already.”

  “So, I should say nothing?”

  “Hmmmm.”

  “Okay, I won’t say anything for now, but don’t think I won’t be watching her.”

  “What else is on your mind, Cyn?”

  “I—” I’ve been lying to you these past five months. It was all so innocent, at first, and then... and now...

  “Cyn?”

  Derry’s words flooded her brain. A great big do-over.

  He stroked her arm, saying in a soft voice, “Raising kids is tough, but we’re doing okay. You’re doing a great job with them.”

  She snuggled closer to him, wrapped her arm around his waist. “Do you ever wish you could do it all over again?”

  “Sure.”

  “You do?”

  “Hmmm. I’d buy a Harley and take a trip to California.”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  He laughed and stroked her back. “You’re right, I wouldn’t, just like I probably wouldn’t change a thing if I could go back.”

  “Really?” She repeated Derry’s words. “No do-overs?”

  “What for? I’ve got you, the kids, a decent job, though I could use another bonus. I’ve got everything I want.”

  “What if I told you I wanted to get away for a little while?” So I can figure a way out of this mess I’ve gotten myself into.

  “Okay, sure, but it would have to be low budget. Let me check my schedule. Where do you want to go?”

  “No, Sam. I mean alone.”

  “Oh.” And then, “We’re scraping to pay the bills some months. We just don’t have it, Cyn.”

  “Actually, Derry suggested the trip, said she’d pay for it, too. It would be a getaway of sorts, to kind of reassess our lives, see where we’re headed.”

  “That woman makes me uncomfortable. She’s a damn wildcard.”

  “She’s just going through a tough time right now.”

  “So why does she have to drag you into her problems?”

  “She’s my friend. She just wants somebody to go with her.”

  “Where’s she headed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Cyn, this doesn’t sound very well thought out.”

  “I think that’s the point. It’s the trip that’s important, not the destination.”

  “Don’t give me that New Age baloney. If you’re going on a trip, I’m going to know where you’re going.”

  “Okay, so if I tell you, can I go?”

  “Any more details available or is Derry keeping it all hush-hush?”

  “I don’t know much else yet.”

  “Well, when would you come back? A week, a month, a year?”

  “Sam—”

  “If I’m going to agree to this package, Cyn, I have to know what I’m buying.”

  “She said a month.”

  He shifted his position so he could see her face. “Why the sudden urgency?”

  “It’s not. She brought it up and I’ve been thinking about it. If you really don’t want me to go, then tell me.”

 
; “It’s okay.” His hand cupped her buttock, pulled her closer. “Just give me the details so I don’t worry.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I’ll have to adjust my schedule to be in town.” His lips grazed her neck. “But we’ll make it work. Just promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  He kissed her on the mouth, his fingers sliding over her throat, caressing her nipples, her stomach. “You’ll come back.”

  ***

  Cyn didn’t sleep all night. She made three trips to the bathroom, two more than usual, listened to Sam’s deep, post lovemaking breathing, counted the ticks from the Big Ben on the nightstand, even stared into the darkness in the direction of the phone, waiting for first light.

  Then she could call Derry.

  It was Sam who told Kiki and Janie the next morning. Cyn had planned to do it just as soon as she finished battering the last piece of French toast, but Sam beat her to it. “Sit down, girls,” he said in his quiet voice. “I want to talk to you.” He stirred two packs of Splenda into his coffee, took a sip and said, “Your mother has an opportunity to go on a trip with Derry Rohan. I think she needs a break from all of us, and I want her to take it.”

  “What?” Kiki stared at her mother.

  “Derry asked me to take a trip.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m not sure yet. We haven’t talked about it.”

  “Are you and Dad getting a divorce?” Janie’s eyes darted from parent to parent, her small face pinched and white.

  “No, of course not!”

  “Chrissy Ringhold’s mother went on a vacation and she never came back,” Janie said, biting her lower lip.

  “Your mother will be back,” Sam assured her.

  “How can you possibly afford it?”

  “Kiki,” Sam warned.

  “When are you leaving?” Kiki again.

  “I don’t know, I have to talk to Derry.”

  “Maybe you’ll go someplace cool,” Janie said, nibbling a piece of turkey bacon. “Like the Bahamas. Or the Caribbean.” Then, “Why can’t we go?”

  “We have school, dumbo,” Kiki said, “and besides, there’s not enough money for us to go, just her.”

  “Kiki, that’s enough.”

  Kiki shrugged, flicked her auburn hair over her shoulder. In twenty-five years she’d look just like her mother, a notion she refused to consider.

  “Maybe we’ll just drive up the coast and see the leaves.”

  “That should take about two seconds,” Janie said, rolling her eyes.

  “Or, maybe we’ll drive out west and see the Grand Canyon.”

  “Four seconds.” Janie and Kiki snickered.

  Cyn ignored them. “I’m making up pans of lasagna and manicotti to put in the freezer. And I’ll throw together a few batches of chili, too. Let me know what else you want, soup, meatloaf, veggie burgers.”

  “We’re not invalids.”

  “I know that Kiki, but there’s laundry, and straightening up, and bathrooms-“

  “And Pizza Hut and Burger King,” Kiki added.

  “Cyn, save your breath,” Sam said. “Do what you can and don’t worry about the rest. We’ll be fine.” He smiled at her, a gesture meant to reassure. “By the way, do you know where I left my umbrella?”

  ***

  At 7:30 a.m. three days later, Cyn hefted two medium duffle bags into the back of Derry’s Navigator. Travel light, Derry said, excess baggage stays home.

  “Ready?” Derry flicked her Coach sunglasses from the top of her head onto her face. “Let’s blow this place.”

  “All set.” Cyn slung her purse over her shoulder. “Let me just see what’s taking Sam so long.” She ran back inside and called, “Sam?”

  “Right here.” He walked into the kitchen carrying a stack of maps and several sheets of paper. “I printed out six possibilities”—he handed her the maps—“these are from AAA. Remember when we planned that trip to Vermont we never took, and the one to Reno, and the Grand Canyon. You might need them. There’s a listing of hotels, restaurants, sights. It’s all there.”

  She took them, clasping them to her chest. “Thank you.”

  “Call me every day and let me know where you are. Once you decide on your destination, stay with it. Don’t let Derry talk you into moving around like a nomad.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You’ve got your phone charger?”

  Cyn patted her purse. “Right here.”

  “Okay then.” He pulled her into his arms and said, “Go, do what you need to do.” They stood there for several seconds, cocooned by each other’s breathing patterns. “I love you, Cynthia Elizabeth Cintar. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “I love you, too,” she mumbled into the folds of his pale blue sweater.

  He gently cupped her chin, a gesture so tender Cyn squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears. “Be safe,” he murmured, placing one last kiss on her lips, “and come back to me.”

  When I come back, I’ll tell you everything, and then we’ll start over. Better than before. “I’ll always come back to you, Sam.”

  She turned then and ran from the house. When she reached the Navigator, Derry was fiddling with the CD player. “Sam’s a great guy,” she said, not looking up. “He’s part of the one percent of the male population that isn’t an asshole.”

  “Alec is, too.”

  “Alec is a closed subject, okay? We’re getting away.” She threw the car in reverse, backed out of the driveway and said, “Just the two of us, right, Sophia?”

  Sophia Loren. “Right, Liz.” Cyn glanced in the side view mirror and caught sight of Sam standing in the driveway, hands shoved in his pockets. I’ll make it up to you, you’ll see.

  “You should dye your hair. You just need a little more red and a few wide rollers. I’ll need friggin’ hair extensions to look like Liz.” Her laugh turned into a screech as a woman lurched into the middle of the road, dragging a gigantic, black suitcase with both hands. “What the—good God!” Derry slowed the Navigator and leaned forward to get a better look.

  The green scrubs were unmistakable.

  “It’s Shea!” Cyn yelled.

  “Shit!” Derry sped up and pulled alongside her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Can I come with you?” Shea pleaded through bloodshot eyes.

  Derry thrust the Navigator in park, hopped out and hefted Shea’s suitcase in the back. “We’re only going for a month, not a year.” She gentled her voice and said, “Come on, get in.”

  “Hi, Cyn.” Shea flopped into the back seat, leaned her head against the leather cushion and closed her eyes.

  “I know it’s not our business,” Derry said once they were on their way again, “but do we guess, or are you going to tell us what happened?”

  “I should’ve known.”

  “It’s Richard, isn’t it?” Derry eyed her from the rearview mirror.

  “Bastard.”

  Derry sighed. “Thank God, you know.”

  “You knew?”

  “Cyn and I couldn’t believe he was screwing that slut from Slice of Sicily. What’s her name, Tawny? Tanya? We caught them about two months ago at the park. I thought he was with a client, checking out the area. Nope. He was in that damn car he loves so much, spread eagled with her on top and his dick in her mouth.”

  Shea’s eyes popped open. “Richard is screwing Tanya Madison?”

  “You…didn’t know?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” For once, Derry seemed at a loss.

  “We’re sorry, Shea.” Cyn turned around and reached out her hand. “Maybe we should’ve said something sooner, but we didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Derry just did a pretty good job of it.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  Shea sniffed, swiped a hand through her tangled hair. “He packed a bag and left last night, said he needed time to think.”

  “More like time to screw,” Derry muttered.

/>   “Did you tell him about the baby?” Cyn asked.

  “Of course I did.”

  “And?”

  “He said to get rid of it.”

  “Asshole.” Derry shook her head. “I really am sorry you had to find out about him and Tanya this way, but I’m glad you know.”

  “If he hadn’t walked out, I probably wouldn’t have believed you, and even if I had, I just would’ve tried to make him love me more. That’s what I did last time.”

  “Last time?”

  “He slept with Patti Starlan two years ago.”

  “The check-out queen at Fresh Mart?”

  “He said she called him up and told him she wanted to put her condo on the market. He went to her place to draw up papers and she answered the door wearing a leather collar and black boots. Nothing else.”

  “And what, she pulled out a whip and beat his dick out of his pants?”

  “He said he didn’t know what to do, Derry.”

  “So he did what any responsible husband would do. He screwed her.”

  “Hmmhmmm.”

  “I guess it never crossed his mind to turn around and leave.”

  “He said it only happened one time.”

  “Multiply that by ten and that’s a more workable figure. They’ll tell you anything, Shea, and it’s all a goddamn lie. I was drunk, she was drunk, you were drunk. She attacked me, my dick did it, I didn’t do it, even, I didn’t want to do it. Bullshit. And when all else fails, the best: it didn’t mean anything.”

  “He already said that.”

  “My point.”

  “And he said she attacked him.”

  “See?”

  Shea sat up. “He did it before, too. Three others.”

  “Only three?” Derry coaxed.

  “That I know of,” Shea said, “but that’s not counting the 900 numbers he calls. Do you consider phone sex cheating?”

  Derry swore under her breath. “What a piece of shit.”

  “I guess.”

  “But you wanted to have his child?”

  “I thought he’d stop if we had a baby. Then we could be a real family and he’d see how much we loved him. And I wanted a chance to do things differently this time.”

  “It’s not your fault that Kirsten has a penchant for lifting makeup from CVS,” Cyn said. Screwing around wasn’t her specialty, but children were.

 

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