“Why does life have to be so damn unfair?”
“That’s a good question.”
“I don’t think this ache will ever go away.”
“I don’t know that it’s meant to. How could it? Those creatures are a part of us.”
“I don’t think James understands that. Or he’s better at hiding his grief than me.”
“Men can joke all day long that they’re glad they don’t have to give birth, but if they really knew how amazing it was to give life, they would jump at the chance. We are connected to our children in a unique way. Not that men don’t have value, well, at least some men, but I think deep down they know they are missing out on something wonderful.”
“I’m not sure about that, given James’s reaction in the delivery room, but I just wished he would talk about it more, or let me talk and not say anything. Sometimes all I need from him is to hold me.”
“Have you told him?”
“I have, and sometimes he listens, but it only lasts for a day or so. Don’t get me wrong. I love James. He’s good man, but he’s . . .”
“A man?”
She cried and laughed all at the same time. “You totally get me.”
“I think that Y chromosome affects their brains. It takes whatever we say and translates it into a whole other language . . . or to whatever they want to hear.”
“I think you’re onto something, sister.” She gently pulled away and wiped her eyes. I handed her a tissue from my purse. I always kept some handy.
“I’m here if you need to talk.”
She nodded and took her seat back at her desk. “Oh, before I forget, speaking of dumb things your brother says, he thinks you and Reed were flirting Sunday night at dinner.” She laughed and blew her nose at the same time, though I wasn’t sure how that was possible.
I froze and tried not to make direct eye contact with her. “Why would he think such a ridiculous thing?”
Her shoulders twitched. “He said you looked cozy talking to each other, and he noticed Reed walked you out to your car.”
“He was leaving at the same time,” I stuttered.
“That’s what I said. I mean, you babysat the kid.”
“Exactly.” Why was my voice high-pitched?
“I told James he was crazy, and you would likely date someone older than you who was more settled in life.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Or not at all.”
She gave me a big smile. “Oh, give it a while, hot mama. You’ll have some irresistible debonair professor or something knocking on your door.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Not to say that Reed kid isn’t a fine specimen, but he’s totally not your type.”
“Definitely not. I better get to work if we all want to get paid this week.”
“Don’t let me keep you. School fees were killer this year, and mama needs a new pair of shoes.”
I waved and walked off, suddenly feeling deceitful. Why didn’t I tell her that Reed called me, or that I agreed to go curtain shopping with him? I was going to have to cancel that. I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. I mean, Reed and me? What a preposterous idea.
Chapter Seventeen
The high school smelled like teen spirit. Or was that the lunches they tried to pass off as real food? One thing that penetrated the air was the perfume and cologne kids doused themselves in. While I appreciated the effort to hide body odor, my eyes burned when some of them came to purchase football tickets from me outside the lunch room Friday afternoon during their lunch period. I had yet to see my son in the noisy, smelly crowd. Not like he needed a ticket, but I hoped he would at least say hi. Some of his friends had. I had heard too many “Mrs. Higgins’s” already, but I didn’t have the heart or time to correct them. I had a steady stream of students wanting to purchase tickets since it was cheaper to buy them before the game.
I observed the interactions between the students and thanked my lucky stars that at least I wasn’t a teen girl. In their eyes and posture, I could see the way they compared themselves and how uncomfortable they were. I wanted to hug them all and tell them it would be okay. But then, like a lightning strike, I realized it didn’t change much as we got older. Maybe we were on different playgrounds, but our self-scrutinizing and comparing ourselves to others doesn’t change with age. In fact, it may get worse. Especially with social media. I know I had played into it. Not that there wasn’t something to be said for putting our best foot forward, but if we weren’t able to ever admit life wasn’t perfect or that it plain sucked from time to time, how could we ever get help and move on?
These last several days of communicating with women from all over the world made me realize how valuable honesty was. To know you aren’t alone. I wanted to shout out to the girls hugging the brick wall or staring at their phone trying to be invisible that they weren’t alone. But, instead, I found myself not alone.
Reed threw himself into the empty chair next to me. The other mom that was scheduled to help sell tickets had a sick child at home and couldn’t make it. At first he didn’t say anything. He went right to work taking cash and handing out tickets. Though he did give me an evil sort of grin.
I felt guilty and had hoped to avoid him. You see, I had been ignoring his texts for the last couple of days after I reneged on my curtain shopping promise. He hadn’t let me forget. He sent me texts like, Are you going to keep me hanging like the nonexistent curtains at my place? Do you know what one curtain panel said to the other? Me neither, because I don’t have any.
There were more, and each time, they gave me a good laugh and tempted me to respond, but if James thought there was something going on between us because we talked at dinner, what would everyone think if we were seen out in public together, alone? That was the last thing I needed.
You know what else I didn’t need? To be attracted to the way he smelled. Even worse was the physiological response I had to him when our arms brushed each other. What was that? Did my heart rate increase, or was this the first sign of perimenopause? For as cold as they kept the school, I was feeling warm. It had to be out of embarrassment. It had nothing to do with the man I used to babysit, who was sitting next to me in a suit, ready for game day. So what if he looked nothing like that boy? He sure didn’t smell like him.
I focused on my task at hand, only stopping to say hi to Cody, who looked reluctant to approach the ticket table. Okay, so he went to his coach’s side and acknowledged my presence with a quick “hello.” For Reed, he had fist bumps and smiles. Was he embarrassed I was wearing a jersey with his name and number on it? All the moms on the team had bought the official black Pomona Panthers jersey.
My sigh must have been too loud watching my son walk off. Did I mention he was with that girl, Rory, real name Aurora? She had come over earlier and introduced herself to me in her too short cheerleading outfit. “Hi, Mrs. Higgins. I love your son,” she’d said.
I swore she clapped at the end like she had just finished a cheer. I had nothing against cheerleaders, being a former one myself, but she was too cute. And what did she know about love? I didn’t like the way Cody’s eyes filled with wonder when he saw her. The question was, what was he wondering about? What was under that uniform? How far he could or should go? I almost chased after him shouting about STDs and unintended pregnancies.
Reed chuckled next to me.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Yep.” He took money and handed a ticket to the next kid in line without missing a beat or saying anything else to me.
This went on until lunch was over and it was time for me to count the money and make sure it coincided with how many tickets were sold.
When the last kid scurried away down the locker-lined hall to get to class, I turned to Reed. “Thanks for your help. You should probably get to class.”
He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. “That sounded too motherly.”
I had done it again. I shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help i
t.” I started organizing and turning the money all the same way before I turned it in to the school cashier.
Reed started doing the same.
“I got this.”
He glanced my way. “This is my planning period.”
“Oh.” I stayed focused on the piles of bills in front of us.
“How have you been?” There was a playful edge to his voice.
“Good.” I sorted the money by denomination, pretending like I hadn’t ignored him for the last few days.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He was making his own piles of money.
“How are you?”
“Great. Looking forward to the game tonight.”
“That must be exciting. Home opener and first game of the season.”
“Yeah. I never thought I would get another one of those here.”
“It must be gratifying to coach at your alma mater.”
“It’s an honor.”
I nodded.
Silence fell upon us in the empty hall. We were surrounded by motivational posters and the lingering smell of lunch.
“Is your phone broken?” He casually tossed out there.
“No.” My voice squeaked.
“So you’re purposely ignoring me.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that.”
“What would you say?”
I turned and met his playful eyes. Were they always so blue? My head darted right back to the money.
“I’ve been busy with stuff, lots of stuff . . . Cody, work . . . and my sisters-in-law, they’re really getting into this Sidelined Wife stuff.” That was true. I had a photo shoot tomorrow, and Avery had been working with Delanie on designs for my new Facebook page and blog makeover. All that meant I had to go shopping. I’d taken Gelaire with me because she was the epitome of style and she too was excited about this new alter ego of mine. We’d found a great denim shirt and paired it with a black blazer. It was chic. Or at least that’s what Gelaire said.
“Sounds jam-packed.” His sarcastic tone came out loud and clear.
I decided to ignore it. “Yep.”
“Well, I hope you can live with yourself, knowing that I forgot I didn’t have window coverings and inadvertently flashed my neighbors yesterday morning.”
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t hold it in.
“You think it’s funny?” He didn’t sound upset at all. “Now, thanks to you, the senior citizen sisters that live behind me have become admirers. I got cookies and a dinner invite for this weekend.”
“That sounds nice. You’re welcome.”
“I like older women, but not ones that could be my grandmother.”
I dared a peek at him. “You like older women?”
He gave me a dazzling smile. “They’re my favorite.”
Counting money. Counting money. “Like, how old are we talking?” I tried to play that off as nonchalant as I could. I wasn’t even sure why I was asking.
“My last girlfriend was ten years older than me.”
“Wow!” Why did I react like that? If only I could kick myself under the table. I said the dumbest things around him.
He laughed good naturedly. “Why is that so surprising?”
I thought about what Avery said about my type. “I guess I’m old fashioned. You know, the man being older than the woman.”
He flipped my hair, causing a weird sensation I couldn’t exactly identify. “You are looking a little matronly.”
“No need to get personal.” I glared at him.
“I’m kidding, you don’t look a day over fifty.”
I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ouch.”
“Serves you right.”
He leaned in too close. His scent excited me. I didn’t know I could get that kind of excited still, especially around him. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Was he using intimate tones? No . . . I couldn’t respond. The breath I was holding was keeping me hostage.
“Word on the street is that Cody’s mom is a babe.”
That held breath came out when my jaw dropped. “You’re lying.”
“I swear it on Mimsy’s holy water.”
I gave him a scrutinizing stare. “You know that stuff she uses isn’t real.”
“Be that as it may, Cody’s friends think you’re hot.”
“Cody’s never said anything.” Waves of embarrassment were washing over me.
“Why would he? Do you think he likes the fact that his friends are checking you out? And believe me, they are. I heard a few of them talking about you when you showed up to practice last week.”
“Are you putting me on?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
I believed him. “We better finish counting this money.”
“There you go, using those leadership skills again.”
“I’d rather be bossy than annoying.”
“I always enjoyed annoying you.”
“Looks like some things never change.”
“You don’t know how true that is.”
I tilted my head toward him. He was already staring at me with a penetrating gaze. What did that mean?
Chapter Eighteen
Are you coming tonight? I hated texting Neil, but it was for Cody. Cody wouldn’t admit it, but I knew he wanted his dad there. He offhandedly had asked me this morning before he left for school if he was coming. I didn’t have an answer for him.
While I waited for a response, I got all my game gear ready—a light jacket just in case, and a stadium seat. My butt was getting too old to sit on the bleachers all night. I also did something else, surprising the heck out of myself.
Good luck, I texted Reed. I wasn’t sure if he would get the message since he was probably in the locker room with the team giving them a motivational speech or something. I wasn’t sure why I even felt compelled to send it. Maybe guilt from ignoring his texts all week? Or maybe I couldn’t quit thinking about our odd conversation at the school. The oddest thing being that a man had just jumped in and helped without even being asked. Come to think of it, he’d done that at my parents’ house too. He was always the first one to help clean up. Neil never would have.
Thank you, Sam. Reed texted right back, unlike my ex-husband, whom I had texted three times already throughout the day with no response.
I did a quick check of my email before I headed to the game. My heart about stopped when I saw that I received a response from the Autumn Moone.
Dear Samantha,
First, let me apologize for my late response. My editors are breathing down my neck
Your thanks are not required. I feel as if I should thank you. Your insights and bravery have inspired me to be a better person and writer. I am a fan.
Keep writing those posts, and I will keep sharing them.
And I wish I could tell you if Laine and Hunter really get together in A Black Night, but you’ll have to read the book to find out.
Back to editing.
All the Best,
Autumn
I laughed to myself. I knew it was a long shot, asking about Hunter and Laine. It was nice of her to respond. It probably wasn’t really her. She more than likely had an assistant do it, but I would take it all the same.
Her site had even posted my little snippet from this morning about my new obsession, protein balls. Oats, honey, chocolate, and peanut butter with some flax seeds sprinkled in for good measure. Basically, they’re a cookie in ball shape. But I could feel better about eating them because of the name. Which reminded me, it was time for some protein. I grabbed a ball out of the freezer and indulged in it while I hauled my gear to the car. I was too nervous to eat a real meal. I wasn’t sure Cody would get any playing time, but I was nervous just in case.
It didn’t help when Neil texted, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. Wish Cody luck for me.
I shook my head in anger. Do it yourself, coward.
I threw my phone in my bag, doing my best not to cry. I shouldn’t have been s
urprised. I ached for my son. He didn’t deserve this.
I’m sorry, is all he texted back. He was the sorriest excuse for a human being. What had happened to him? Granted, he was never the most attentive father, but at least he used to try.
I had to get my head in the game for Cody. We had lived without Neil for months now and we had done okay. And we would do better.
I arrived at the school early. The stadium always filled up quickly and I wanted to get good seats for me and my family. Who needed Neil? Unfortunately, Cody did. But not me. I’m not sure I ever needed him, but, oh, I used to want him.
I was able to snag the third row on the fifty-yard line. Sitting there by myself made me feel like a big arrow was pointing at me that said divorcee. The looks from some of our neighbors and couple of friends, like the Gephardts, didn’t help. They gave me forced uncomfortable smiles and a wave, but didn’t stop or utter a hello anymore. It was like somehow being divorced made me a pariah. For goodness sake, we used to barbecue on the weekends. Our sons even did a joint Harry Potter themed birthday party once when they were in middle school. It embarrassed Cody now to think of it.
I was never happier to see my parents and even Mimsy. She typically didn’t come to games. As spry as she was in her eighties, walking up the stands and sitting on the bleachers wasn’t easy on her little body. Dad carried the stadium chairs while Ma helped Mimsy make the short climb.
I made sure to mouth to Dad that he better be the one sitting by me. He chuckled before situating the stadium chairs and plopping down next to me. Ma didn’t like his arrangement, so she moved her seat on the other side of me and moved Mimsy next to her. I eyed Mimsy’s bottle of water. She better not think of throwing any of that on me.
Dad wrapped his arm around me and let out a meaningful sigh. I wondered if he and Ma had a blowup. They seemed to be ignoring each other.
I didn’t directly address my suspicion. Instead, I reached my hand across and squeezed each of the matriarchs’ hands. “Thanks for coming. How are you?”
“Eh.” Ma shrugged.
Mimsy bounced in her seat like a toddler. “There was a catfight at the prison today.”
The Sidelined Wife Page 10
