Bryce had already lost interest. His eyes were feasting on the platter of food on the way to their table.
“I have a lot of reading to do tonight,” Lily said, deciding to tell him while he was still salivating over his linguini. “How about you, honey? Do you have any work you need to catch up on?”
“I thought we were going to spend time together tonight. Whether you realize it or not, we haven’t had sex in over a month.”
Lily sighed, watching the evening sunlight reflect off the cars on the street in front of the restaurant. She was thankful Monday was slow and there was no one within earshot. Did she really have to work tonight, or was she purposely avoiding him? There was a wall between her and Bryce, a wall she had purposely erected. He would never understand her because she had never told him that she and Shana were raped, let alone that she had killed a man under the belief that he was the rapist. She knew it was wrong to conceal such a monumental event in her life, but she refused to live with a man who perceived her as a victim.
“Did you hear what I said, Lily?”
“I’m sorry, Bryce.” Because he didn’t know about the rape, they had managed to have a fairly normal sex life. She didn’t realize so much time had passed since they’d been together. “I should be finished by eleven.”
He had an annoyed look on his face as he shoveled food into his mouth. Reaching for the wine bottle, he poured the remaining drops into his glass and sucked them down. “Eleven is too late.”
“You’re not a child,” Lily told him, rolling her pasta on her fork. “You can stay up until midnight now and then. Friday and Saturday, you didn’t come home until three in the morning. If you can stay up drinking with your golf buddies, why can’t you stay up tonight?”
“I have to get up at four-thirty during the week so I can get a workout in. Then I have to fight the 405 traffic to L.A. If we moved closer to my job, I could get up at a reasonable hour. I know you wanted to keep my dad’s place and all, but my job sucks the life out of me.” He reached up and loosened his tie, his face flushed now. “You don’t know what it’s like, Lily. I kiss ass for a living, okay, not the same as sitting on a podium and having people do whatever you ask. Every day I have to engage customers in lively conversation, tell jokes like a comedian, and bust my butt to convince them that their sales will go through the roof because of my brilliant, dazzling ideas. Advertising guys like me are dirt to these people, just someone to entertain them and pick up the check. You’re a judge now, though. You took the job without even asking me.” He paused and stared out over the room, more sad than angry. “Sometimes I wonder.”
Lily dropped her fork back on the plate. She hated emotional confrontations. She had back-to-back trials, and couldn’t afford to deplete herself with Bryce’s alcohol-induced ramblings. “What do you wonder?”
He blinked several times, hesitating. “If we really have a marriage. You seem to be married to your work. I feel like I’m nothing more than a convenience to you.”
She made certain the tables behind her were still empty before speaking. “I waited all my life to become a judge,” she said, leaning forward over the table. “I’m a complicated woman, Bryce. I told you that when we got married. I refuse to represent criminals. I’m not a domestic attorney, nor do I have any experience in personal injury. Besides, there’s an overabundance of attorneys right now and they’re fighting for every penny. Establishing a private practice takes years.” She stopped and took a breath. She knew she was marching straight into a fight, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You swore you wanted me to be happy, that living in Ventura wasn’t a problem. I left the DA’s office in Santa Barbara so we could be together. Ventura was our compromise. Are you going back on your word now?”
He saw how agitated she was becoming. “Give me your hand,” he said, reaching across the table. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just not used to being . . . well, for lack of a better word, so unimportant.”
She extended her hand until she touched his fingertips. “That’s not true, Bryce. I adore you. Outside of Shana, you’re the most important person in my life. I’m just overwhelmed right now. We’ll spend our time together tonight like I promised. I can catch up on my reading after you go to sleep. How does that sound?”
“You sure?” he said, his face softening. “I didn’t mean to cause an argument. I know your job is stressful, too.”
“Maybe you can alleviate some of my stress,” Lily said, smiling seductively. “Since your plate looks pretty clean, let’s stop wasting time and get out of here. I’m not really that hungry.”
Bryce stood, stuffing his hand in his pocket and tossing some bills down on the table, not waiting for their server to bring him the check. He started to leave, then grabbed her face and kissed her. “See you at the house.”
They had arrived in separate cars and Lily was parked in the back lot, whereas Bryce had found a parking spot on the street. She ducked into the restroom, used the facilities, and then stared at her image in the mirror. Her past and her problems were beginning to show up on her face. She would wake up in the morning with a crease, and think it had something to do with the way she had slept, only to discover that it was permanent. What made it worse was the huge number of women routinely undergoing plastic surgery. Women in their seventies now looked as young as she did.
But it was more than her face. She complained Bryce didn’t take care of his health when she seldom gave any thought to her own. Being slender didn’t mean anything. She hadn’t been to a doctor for a checkup in five years. She might have breast cancer, for all she knew, or some other dreadful disease. Stress itself killed people. The blood in her veins was probably as hard as concrete. She had pains in her chest all the time. She simply ignored them, chalking them up to heartburn.
Exiting through the back door of the restaurant, she unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel. Before he’d started drinking, Bryce had been a fun-loving, adorable teddy bear, who always had a smile on his face and constantly told how much he loved her. She wasn’t sure if his present insecurities were a result of his progressing from a social drinker to an alcoholic, or if they had developed due to her appointment to the bench. It was only a job, but some people acted like she’d been made queen, complete with her own kingdom.
Bryce wouldn’t be insecure if he knew how desperately she needed him. She couldn’t be alone. When her daughter had lived with her, it had been easier to keep her emotions on an even keel. After John’s murder, Shana had got her undergraduate degree from UCLA, then decided to attend law school at Stanford, which was located near San Francisco. Their relationship had been reduced to phone calls and occasional weekend visits. Bryce was even jealous of the time she spent on the phone with Shana. She had tried to talk her daughter into spending more time with her, but Ventura held too many bad memories. She never should have let Bryce talk her into leaving Santa Barbara.
Turning the key in the ignition, Lily took the side streets to their home in the foothills. She wasn’t paying attention and almost drove through a red light. Slamming on the brakes, she reminded herself why she had married Bryce. She’d just ended her relationship with Richard Fowler, after he’d broken her heart for the umpteenth time. Since his first wife had left him for another woman, it was understandable that he feared commitment. But he had constantly told her he loved her, and made promises he evidently had no intentions of keeping. No matter how shattered she’d been, there were other reasons their relationship would have never worked. Unlike her husband, Richard knew everything. How could a man spend the rest of his life with a woman he knew had gotten away with murder? On the other hand, how could a woman trust a man who could destroy her?
Shana was a strong woman like her mother, her wellspring of strength forged from adversity. Even before the rape, she’d demanded Lily’s complete attention. The rare occasions when she visited usually started well, yet always seemed to end in a shouting match. Shana would say something rude to Bryce and he would retal
iate. One time she’d called him a blubber belly, and he had accused her of being anorexic. He thought Shana was a spoiled, arrogant young woman. In a way, he was right. John had indulged her every whim. After the rape, Lily had done everything humanly possible to give the girl a normal life. But Shana had eventually run back to her father.
Ironically, her marriage to Bryce was showing some of the same strains she’d experienced with John: his jealousy, Bryce’s belief that she overshadowed him professionally, his inability to accept the demands of her work. She began to drift into the past again, to the night her marriage to Shana’s father had ended.
Lily parked and jumped out of her car, her heels sinking in dirt as she hurried to the baseball field where Shana’s team was playing. She linked her fingers through the wire fence as she watched, hoping she wasn’t too late to see her pitch. The short brunette at bat swung and connected; the parents in the stands screamed as she raced the short distance to first base. The next batter hit the ball as well, but was tagged at first base. The game was over and Shana’s team had won.
The girls moved to the dugout, the majority getting as close to Shana as possible. Postgame activity had changed since the year before. Instead of going for the cookies and sodas the team mother provided, a number of girls were taking out brushes and lipsticks from their purses.
John infiltrated the group of girls, putting both hands around Shana’s waist and lifting her into the air. “I’m so proud of you.” They both saw Lily a few feet away and smiled. They weren’t smiling at her. Lily knew they were flaunting their closeness, showing her that this was their private moment, one they didn’t care to share. Placing Shana back on the ground, John stared straight at Lily and draped his arm over his daughter’s shoulder, walking with her the short distance to the dugout. He glanced back to see if Lily was still watching, the other girls crowding around John now as well as Shana. Lily winced, locking her fingers on the wire fence. They both looked away.
A few minutes later, John headed her direction, stooping to pick up a few bats on the way. The baseball cap made thick crevices appear on his forehead. At forty-seven, he was eleven years older than his wife. Even though his hair was thinning to the point where more scalp showed than hair, he was still an attractive man, with a robust laugh and a bright smile, displaying rows of even white teeth in his tan and masculine face. His expression was not pleasant, though, nor was it the adoring look reserved for his daughter.
“Made it, huh?” he said flatly, tipping his baseball cap back on his head. “Managed to pry yourself away to catch the last five minutes of the game. You sure you’re not missing something at the office? I mean, you don’t want your family to get in the way of your big ambitions to be a judge.”
“Stop it,” Lily said. “I’ll take Shana home in my car.” She turned and plodded through the dirt in the direction of the dugout.
Shana’s face was flushed with excitement. She stood almost a head above most of the other girls. Her long red hair had more gold tones in it than Lily’s, and she wore it in a ponytail pulled through the back of her baseball cap. Her wide-set eyes were such a deep shade of sapphire that they almost matched the navy blue lettering on her uniform. High, pronounced cheekbones gave her face an ethereal, elegant quality far beyond her years. With the right makeup, clothes, and photographer, Shana’s face could be on the cover of next month’s Vogue or Cosmopolitan.
One girl followed as she broke away and headed for the car. “Call me in thirty minutes,” Shana told her. Once they were home, the phone in her room would ring for the next hour, each girl calling at whatever time Shana had specified.
“Oh, this is my mom. Mom, this is Sally.”
Sally stood there with her mouth gaping. “You look so much alike. I can’t believe it.”
Shana got into the car and slammed the door, her eyes cutting to her mother with resentment. Lily was hurt when she acted like this; Shana had always been so proud that they looked alike. She used to tell Lily how all her friends thought her mother was so pretty. Lily remembered how she’d gaze up at her and ask if she’d be as tall when she grew up. Last week, Shana had screamed at her that she was a giraffe, the tallest girl in school, and ended the tirade by saying it was Lily’s fault.
She tried to start a conversation. “That was a great job of pitching out there. Sorry I didn’t get to see more of the game. I rushed, but the traffic was awful.” Shana stared straight ahead, refusing to respond. Lily swallowed hard. “How was school?”
“Fine.”
“Do you have much homework?”
“Done.”
“Want to go roller-skating with me Sunday?”
“I practice softball every day and have gym class. I don’t need any more exercise.”
“How about the mall?”
“I thought I was grounded.” She shot Lily another look full of animosity. “Can Charlotte and Sally go?”
“No, I want to spend time with you alone. I don’t want to spend time with Charlotte and Sally. Besides, where is my top you loaned Charlotte without my permission?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your precious top back. I just forgot. Chill out, Mom, you’re driving me crazy.” With this last statement her voice went high and shrill. Then something appeared to come to mind and she turned to her mother with a sweet smile and a sugarcoated tone. “I need a new outfit. There’s a dance in the gym next week.”
Here we go, Lily thought, feeling the burning in her chest again. In desperation she had found herself recently doing something she despised. She’d started buying Shana things in the past year or so just to get that one little smile. As a parent, she was on an emotional seesaw. One minute she tried to uphold her long-standing rules and restrictions, then everything fell away. To compete with John, who had convinced Shana that her mother was an uncaring and absentee parent, she had to play a new game, his game. His game was to constantly shower Shana with praise and give in to her every demand, even when she did something wrong. He didn’t care that Shana took her mother’s things without asking and had other girls clean her room and do her homework. Would he also look away if she later began using drugs and having sex with boys?
“I just bought you all those things two weeks ago, Shana. Can’t you wear one of those to the dance?”
“MOM . . . I’ve already worn them to school. I can’t wear them to the dance.”
“We’ll see,” Lily said, pacifying.
Shana stared out the passenger window.
“So, what else is going on? Any gossip?”
“I started my period today.”
Lily was excited and it showed. Shana rolled her eyes around in disbelief at her excitement. This was something strictly feminine, something they could share. They could go home and lock themselves in the bedroom and talk the way they’d used to years ago. “I knew you’d start any day now. Didn’t I tell you that I started at your age? That’s why you’ve been so moody. I was, too. It’s normal. You’re a real woman now. Do you have cramps? How do you feel? We’ll stop at the drugstore. What are you wearing now?” Lily knew she was rattling on, but she didn’t care. This could be a new beginning for them.
“Dad already got me some pads today.”
Lily’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. She took her foot off the gas, and the car came to an abrupt stop in the suburban traffic. Cars honked and then drove around her. She turned to Shana. “You could have called me at work and told me. Why didn’t you? Why are you shutting me out of your life?” She had to hear the words; like a masochist, she sought the pain.
“Dad said you were too busy and that you’d be mad if I bothered you.”
The words “Dad already got me some pads today” were ringing in her ears; now they were joined by “Dad said you were too busy.” In the act of not sharing that one historically female moment, the rite of passage, and the fact that Shana could go to her father without embarrassment, her daughter had destroyed her.
They drove home in silence.
>
John arrived home shortly after Lily and Shana. Located in what once had been the farming community of Camarillo, twenty minutes from Ventura, the house was a spacious twenty-year-old ranch with paned windows. John went and made a bowl of ice cream for himself and Shana, then carried her dish to her bedroom. Shana was inside with the door shut. John walked in, handed the bowl to her, and started to walk out. Shana reached up without looking and tugged lightly on his shirt, chatting away on the phone. When he bent down near her face, she kissed him on the mouth and immediately returned to her conversation. He smiled and left, returning to the family room to eat his ice cream in front of the television. Lily was standing in the hall. She stepped back, glaring at him. Then she went to take a shower. They did this after every game, and John had never once asked Lily if she wanted a bowl of ice cream.
Standing in the bathroom fully clothed, Lily stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was an unwanted intruder—an outcast in her own home. Without her salary, they couldn’t even afford this house. Without all the late nights and hard work and the stress that had put years on her face. John just wanted to punch a time clock, collect his check, coach softball, watch television, and hang out with their daughter. When they did talk, which was rare, he wanted to talk about aliens and life after death, things that delineated the world he lived in from the stark reality of Lily’s world.
The Cheater Page 8
