“Thank you, but we shouldn’t.”
He tilted his head. “Why not?”
“You’re Cody’s coach. Some things were said tonight. I don’t want to give anybody the wrong impression. I really appreciate your offer and your kindness, but I better get home.”
That answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. He took my hand in his. “Who said what?”
“It’s so embarrassing.” More tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Did someone say something about us?”
Us? Why would he jump to that conclusion? I shook my head, confused. “No. Let’s just say I’m a fool.”
“Sam.” He drew closer. “Please tell me what happened?”
I took a deep breath full of shudders before letting out my mortifying tale of the two women, and since I was on a roll and it felt good to let it out, I kept on going. “And to top it off, I feel like there is a flashing neon sign on my head that shouts, ‘divorced woman, stay away!’ Why?”
I just wanted to know why this was happening to me. I’d been wondering that for months. It was like the gift that kept on giving, but I wanted to give it back to the sender with a note telling them to go to the deepest place in hell.
Reed was more touchy-feely than expected. He went from holding my hand to hugging me again. I let him. This time I wrapped my arms around him. I needed a friend, and he would do. Besides, he smelled nice. And it was the most warmth I had felt in months. Peace settled into me.
“I know those women,” he said as he rubbed my back. “They’re jealous because their kids are, let’s say, not Cody material. Had I been here when tryouts were held, their kids would have never made the team. Don’t you dare let them make you feel inferior. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, capable woman.”
I snickered into his chest.
He leaned away and met my eyes. “What’s so funny?”
“You called me beautiful.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Okay . . . ?”
“You don’t think it’s funny that you, the boy that once teased me about playing connect the dots with the pimples on my face, just said that? I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need more lies.”
He pressed his lips together, causing his jaw to twitch and then tighten. His gaze was penetrating. “I’m not that boy. But here’s a news flash, even that boy knew you were beautiful.”
I was taken aback by that revelation. But there was something else to address. How many times would I have to apologize to him? “I didn’t mean to offend you again.”
The warmth returned to his blue eyes. “You didn’t. Let’s go grab a late dinner.”
“We shouldn’t,” I hedged.
“Sam, I just won my first game as head coach. I want to celebrate with you. And I don’t think you want to be alone either. We’ll go somewhere private if it will make you feel more comfortable.”
Comfortable was something I hadn’t been in months. And now I was anything but. Some sensor tingled in my brain, telling me that I had been naïve about a lot of things. But he was right. I didn’t want to be alone. I gave him a weak nod.
Chapter Twenty
We sat in Reed’s jeep with the top down, eating cheeseburgers and fries under the starry canvas in one of the forest preserves in Clearfield. Did I mention the forest preserve was closed? Reed took some back-access road he knew about. So to top it off I was breaking the law. I mean why not? I had already made a fool out of myself for the night, I might as well get arrested.
I looked out over the lake. The moon reflected in the ripples. The night had cooled off, making me glad I brought my jacket, though my legs were filled with goosebumps.
Reed was observant and slipped off his suit coat. “Take this.”
“I would hate to drop any food on it.”
“I’m already going to have to have it dry cleaned. Someone used it as a makeup wipe.”
I gave him a small smile. “I don’t wear that much makeup.”
“It’s one of the many qualities I like about you.” He handed me the suit coat.
I draped the charcoal jacket over my legs. His lingering body heat felt good against my skin. In the awkward silence, I ate a fry and observed how clean his jeep was. I was surprised. Peter and he were slobs growing up.
“Thanks for dinner, by the way.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and he seemed nervous. Not sure why. Maybe he was worried about getting caught, though he assured me we wouldn’t.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you finally agreed to go out with me.”
I choked on my fry, coughing and spluttering.
He patted my back. “Are you okay?”
I was going to go with no. I held my chest and coughed one more time before taking a sip out of the bottle of water that came with my to-go meal. Once the coughing fit was over, I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Did he mean what I thought he meant? Or was it a general getting-together kind of a thing? My gaze stayed fixed on the lake while I tried to process.
“Will you look at me?”
That was an odd request. “What?” I didn’t look at him.
He took the bottle of water out of my hands and placed it in the center console. “Sam, look at me.”
I turned my head slowly, as if I was fighting against an unseen force. My plan was to do a quick glance, and that’s what I did, but—
“Really look at me.”
My eyes shifted downward. “I did.” Why was he being so weird?
“No you didn’t. And you haven’t since I’ve been back.”
My head whipped his way, our eyes locked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Every time I see you, I look at you.”
“You look for the boy you knew. He’s not there.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t understand why this matters to you.” Or did I just not want to admit it?
He was silent while I peered into his eyes doing my best to see what it was he wanted. A strange thing happened as I looked deeper. I saw something. Me. What was I doing in them?
Reed leaned in. His scent made me catch my breath.
“Sam . . . what if I told you that I was attracted to you?”
I shook my head. I must have had an aneurysm or a stroke. Out of body experience? Maybe a loss of hearing. Lots of weird noises escaped my mouth, not one of them a word. I finally managed to say, “No, you’re not.”
He wasn’t amused. His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat. “Obviously you’re not ready to hear this.”
If he wanted me to look at him, he succeeded. I couldn’t not look at him. “Why?” was all I could think of to say.
“Why aren’t you ready, or why am I attracted to you?”
“Sure,” I breathed out.
His facial features softened with a smile. “This wasn’t how I imagined us having this conversation.”
“How did you picture it?”
“Well, first of all, I was going to take you curtain shopping and drag that out for as long as I could.”
I returned his grin.
“That would have led to dinner. Throw some wine in there for good measure. And then I was going to lean across the table once we were both a little tipsy and tell you I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was thirteen. You would laugh and think I was joking. Then I would confess that I prayed to Saint Valentine to keep you single until I grew up. Damn fool, I’m still upset with him. He’s really let me down over the years. And not just with you.” Reed shook his head.
I sat still, in shock, trying to process what he was saying. And relating to him about Saint Valentine. I hated that guy and refused to ever ask for his help again. Reed wasn’t the only person he had let down.
“Reed you’re—”
“I’m what? Too young?”
“Well, yeah, kind of.” At least for me. I had never dated anyone younger.
“You’re thirty-nine and I’m thirty-four.”
“I’m going to be forty
next month.”
“I’ll be thirty-five in March. Who cares?” He loosened his purple tie, whipped it off, and threw it in the backseat like he was getting down to business.
I turned away from him and stared aimlessly up at the cloudless night sky. “This is crazy. I can’t—”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t date you.”
He reached over and took my hand. It felt different this time. More than a friendly gesture. “Please look at me. Really look at me.”
I faced him and took a deep breath. His smile, I noticed, had a smoldering quality to it. Wait. Had it been like that since he’d been back? He rubbed his thumb across my hand. Why wasn’t I pulling it away?
“Sam,” his voice was soft but deep, intimate. “If you hadn’t known me as a kid, would my age really bother you?”
That was a good question. But it wasn’t the only factor. “I don’t know, but you’re Cody’s coach, and I haven’t even thought about dating yet. I’m still a mess.”
“A beautiful mess.”
“Have you really liked me all this time?”
A sheepish smile played on his face. “This might be a good time to tell you it was Peter and me that let the air out of Neil’s tires on the night he proposed to you.”
“What?” I spat out.
“We overheard your mom talking about the big proposal and how he had asked your dad for your hand in marriage. Neither Peter nor I cared for the guy. Peter thought he was an uptight pansy, and I hated him because he was living out my teenage fantasy. I don’t know why we thought letting the air out of his tires was going to stop him from proposing.”
“I can’t believe that was you guys! You ruined my proposal.” Well, sort of. Neil could have asked me to marry him in a garbage truck and I would have said yes.
“What can I say? We were fifteen and stupid.”
“I’ll give you that.” Neil was so nervous that night that he didn’t even notice, and I was so wrapped up in him, I didn’t either. But it didn’t take long after we drove off to figure out something was wrong. Halfway up our street he got out, and when he realized what was wrong, he swore and kicked at the tires. But when he got back into the car, he looked at me, and it was like nothing else mattered to him. He pulled out the one carat princess-cut ring right then and there and asked me to be his bride. It was a fond memory, and one we laughed about for a long time. That was, until the laughter stopped and the ring came off.
“Did Peter know how you felt? Does he know now?”
“You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”
“I think both James and Peter are suspicious.”
“It’s hard when I’m around you to pretend I’m not attracted to you.”
“I think you’re mistaking attraction for something else.” I mean, I found him to be physically attractive.
He leaned in closer. His vanilla-shake breath lingered in the air between us. There wasn’t a lot of space, if truth be told. It wasn’t bad at all.
“I think you’re scared. I understand why you would be.”
Scared didn’t even cover it. “What do you even know about me?”
“I know you’re witty as hell. I’ve been reading your blog posts.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be embarrassed or flattered. Probably some of both, but it wasn’t like Ma hadn’t embarrassed me enough about it in front of him.
He continued. “I know you’re a fighter, a good mother, smart, generous. I remember you were always helping someone in your neighborhood, whether it was babysitting for free or watching their pets. You were the girl that always donated her birthday presents to the local women and children’s shelter. I watched you more than you ever knew. And I only annoyed you because I couldn’t think of any other way for you to pay attention to me.”
I was truly at a loss for words.
He squeezed my hands. “Just promise me you’ll think about it. About us?”
Us? I gulped.
Chapter Twenty-One
Reed was all I could think about. I got home in the nick of time—just before Cody arrived. Reed had dropped me off back at the school so I could get my car. I was worried I wouldn’t make it home before midnight. How would I explain my absence to my son? “Hi, honey. By the way, I was parked with your coach in one of his old make-out spots”—a tidbit I’d found out on the drive home—“and, surprise, he wants to go out on a date with me. How was your night?”
I didn’t see that conversation playing out too well. Even Reed knew it would be a complication if . . . if what? If we went out on a date? I couldn’t even say it out loud.
I threw on some yoga pants and a t-shirt before jumping into bed just as I heard Cody walk in. I picked up my tablet and pretended to read something before Cody knocked on my door.
“Mom, I’m home.”
“Come in.” I found myself sounding like a nervous teenager who was afraid her parents might find out about what she had done that night.
Cody’s eyes looked tired, and his shoulders were still slumped.
I patted a spot next to me on the bed.
He walked over and took a seat next to me even though he didn’t seem keen on it. I would at least give Cody this, he tried to always show me that he loved me.
“How was your night?”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
“Do you want to talk about your dad?”
He shook his head.
“You know it’s okay to be angry.”
“If he doesn’t care about me, I don’t care about him.”
I took his hand. “You do care. You should care. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”
“I hate him.” His hard brown eyes said he wasn’t lying.
“I know, but don’t let it tear you up inside. You can talk to me or Grandpa, James, or Peter. We’re all here for you.”
“I just want to go to bed.”
I nodded. I knew not to push it with him. “Okay. Sleep tight.”
He thundered toward my door, but he stopped before he exited and mumbled, “Love you.”
“I love you more than you know.”
I couldn’t hope to sleep now. So many emotions coursed through me. I had half a mind to call Neil right then and let him have it. What was I waiting for? He needed to hear what I had to say. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail. I had forgotten he turned his phone off at night. A voice message would do for now. My anger needed an outlet.
“You should know that your son got to play in his first varsity game tonight, and you missed it. He noticed. You’re breaking your son’s heart. The sad part is I’m not even sure you care. You divorced me, not Cody. But I guess since you’re having a new baby with your new whatever, we don’t exist for you anymore. Go ahead and write us out of your life. Maybe I’ll write someone else in. Someone that cares more about Cody than he does about himself. Someone Cody can look up to. Someone that’s not you!”
I clicked end, not sure why I said all that. I really didn’t think he cared anymore. Perhaps it bordered on childish, but you say stupid things when you’re angry. Stupid things like letting another man in our lives. Did I really want to? I thought about being in Reed’s arms. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but it was more than nice. I missed that kind of affection. I’d been missing it for a long time. Well before Neil’s affair came to light, those intimate type of touches disappeared. I was so blind. How did I not see that my marriage was in trouble?
How did I miss Reed’s advances?
I gave myself a break there. I mean, who would have guessed? Okay, so my brothers saw it. That didn’t help me feel any better, considering James was emotionally clueless at times and Peter had missed the signs for years despite being Reed’s best friend growing up. And let’s not forget I babysat him. I know Reed wished I could and would forget that.
If I could forget, how would I see him? Obviously, his attention flattered me. He was extremely good looking
and, I suppose, charming in his own way. He was funny. I smiled and laughed around him more than usual. Other than that, I didn’t really know a lot about him, other than Cody adored him, and he’d been nothing but kind to me. He let me cry it out on his suit. And he didn’t try to fix anything; he just listened and held me.
I rubbed my face in my hands. Why was I even entertaining this? I couldn’t. We couldn’t. I shuddered at the thought of bringing him to my parents’ place for Sunday dinner. Granted, he was already sitting next to me, but my brothers would tease me relentlessly, and Ma would probably ask him if he had seen my NDA. Or worse, she’d ask if were sleeping together. Oh my gosh, now I was going to have those thoughts in my head.
Remembering being in Reed’s arms—or imagining more—reminded me of some of the reasons I had a mini breakdown tonight. Those women, and the way they treated me so different now. Who does she think she is? played in my head. I pulled out my laptop and logged into my blog. I was inundated with new comments about my protein ball post. Lots of people agreed with my assessment; some people wanted me to post my recipe. I obliged while Reed and that phrase played ping pong in my head.
When I was done sharing my glorified cookie recipe—and that’s exactly what I called it—I started a new post titled, “Who does she think she is? Let me tell you.”
Tonight at my son’s football game, I was hit with the cold reality of what else divorce has stolen from me. It was as if going from Mrs. to Ms. changed who I was in everyone’s eyes. I never realized what a difference that little “r” meant. Are people afraid divorce is contagious? Is that why they shy away from me? Or perhaps they wonder if it was my fault and what I did. Maybe they just don’t know what to say, so they choose to ignore me. Surely they don’t think I’m out to find the next Mr. and maybe it will be them or their spouse. Has anyone else noticed this behavior in others since their divorce? Does it get better? How do you handle it?
I wish the slights were the worst part of the evening. Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any worse, when I felt as alone as I had ever felt, two women decided to pour vinegar into that gaping wound. This blog and the attention it has garnered apparently didn’t sit well with them. I was privy to their mean-spirited conversation when one asked the other about this blog that has become one of my lifelines. The woman’s words, “Who does she think she is?” rang loud and clear into the night. I wasn’t sure if they meant for me to hear, but I did, and they know I did. For all I know, they will read this post.
The Sidelined Wife Page 12
