The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom (31 page)

The next day I stuffed all the body products into the
darkest recesses of my linen closet and tried to forget about them. I really
had no other recourse. I wasn’t going to see Javier: it would only encourage
his stalkerish tendencies. And I couldn’t bug Troy about the paternity-test
results again. It was evident from our last conversation that he was beginning
to think I was a bit stalkerish as well. I would wait for the results to come
in and Javier to be confronted by the police. Until then, I’d just have to find
multiple reasons to poke my head out the front door checking for any unwanted
gifts.

The rest of the weekend passed without incident. When Paul
went back to work on Monday, I continued my manic cycle of checking the phone
for messages from Detective Portman and the front porch for romantic presents
from Javier: Neither arrived. But on Tuesday, the phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered, hopefully.

“Oh good. You’re there.”

“Oh, hi Jane.” Oops. I hadn’t meant to let disappointment
seep into my voice.

It was evident in the tone of her reply that she’d picked up
on it. “I was calling to ask if you wanted to join me for a power-walk, but
maybe you’ve got other plans?”

“No! Sorry! I’ve just been waiting for this, uh…
plumber
to call me back.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… I just need an estimate for this thingie… It’s
no big deal.” Lying was beginning to feel unnervingly comfortable.

“So are you up for a walk?”

I wasn’t, really. I wanted to stay in the house, running
between the phone and the front porch like some deranged hamster. But it was
beginning to feel a little OCD, and I knew I’d been neglecting my friendships
of late. Besides, my mother always said a watched pot never boils. Maybe if I
left the house for a while, Troy Portman would finally call. “Sure,” I said,
brightly. “Just give me a few minutes to change.”

It had been months since I’d gone power walking with Jane.
Our every-second-Friday routine had fallen by the wayside after Karen’s
tragedy. But judging by Jane’s pace and enthusiastic arm-pumping, her exercise
routine had not suffered as mine had. In fact, I was struggling to keep up with
her in the first five minutes. Thankfully, conversation was slow.

“How are the kids?” She asked, as we began the descent toward
Rosedale Elementary. The slope allowed me somewhat of a reprieve.

“They’re good. … Yours?”

“Good. Enjoying pre-school… and swimming lessons.”

“Great. … You haven’t heard of any radio contests where you
can win backstage passes to a Christina Aguilera concert, have you?”

“No.”

“I want to get Chloe a really amazing Christmas gift that
doesn’t cost a fortune.”

“You’ll think of something.”

We rounded the bend past the school and enjoyed a long flat
stretch. Despite the fact that I was breathing easily again, our discourse had
not revived. Something was amiss with Jane. She seemed a little cool, distant,
maybe even ticked off with me.

“Listen,” she said, jarring me from my internal
hypothesizing. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way… As harsh as this
sounds, I’m coming from a place of caring and love…”

Well, this couldn’t be good.

“We’re all concerned about you.”

“Concerned? About me?”

“Yes. You’ve been really …
different
, lately”

“Different? How different?”

“When Margot came to coffee the other day…?” Her tone
implied that that one sentence fragment explained everything.

“I was very nice to her!” I replied, defensively.

“It was obvious you didn’t want her there.”

“No it wasn’t. I handled it very well, I think.”

“So you admit you didn’t want her there?”

“Well… I just think it’s too soon to be replacing Karen.”

Jane sighed with exasperation. “Why do you insist on looking
at it that way? It’s not healthy.”

My back was up. “What way?”

“Inviting someone new to coffee doesn’t mean we’re
replacing
Karen. She was one of a kind! Irreplaceable! But we have to go on living,
Paige. It’s okay to make new friends. Trudy, Carly and I all agree.”

I was beginning to feel a little picked on. “I don’t get
this. Why does everyone think it’s perfectly fine for Doug to have, like, a
two-week grieving period, but when I want a few months, I’m
not healthy
?”

“Come on, now,” Jane said, chidingly. “Doug took more than
two weeks to get over her.”

“Well, I can’t help the way I feel. I think it’s too soon to
be bringing someone else into our group when we’re all still trying to heal.”

There was a long silence before Jane said, “Okay… I suppose
we should respect your feelings and give you a little more time.”

“Besides,” I said, skipping a little to keep up with Jane
who, despite our passionate diatribe, was power-walking faster than ever, “what
about Trudy and Carly? I mean, they’re acting like they’re Doug’s live-out
nannies. They cook for him, clean for him, do his grocery shopping, pick up his
dry cleaning…”

“That’s different,” Jane said. “Those two have got the
disease to please.”

It sounded quite accurate. Jane’s pre-emptive marriage
counseling sessions had provided her incredible insight into the human psyche.

“They’re classic people-pleasers,” she continued. “They’re
reveling in their care-giver roles. Trudy has her own family to take care of,
but Ken’s gone so much that she doesn’t get the appreciation she craves. And
Carly… well, she just really loves being needed again. This tragedy has given
her a real purpose in life.”

“Yeah…”

“I’d like to see those two get together one day,” Jane said,
leaning into the incline for maximum gluteus toning.

“Who?”

“Carly and Doug. That probably would have made Karen happy,
to see Doug with one of her dearest friends.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Of course.” She shrugged. “I mean, if I died, I think it
would be nice if Daniel ended up with one of you.”

Eww! Daniel was so…
old
.

“If you were single, of course. I mean, who better to love
your family in your absence?”

“I guess so,” I managed weakly. I felt especially thankful
that Paul had promised to mourn me forever if I were to die.

“But, unfortunately, Doug would never be interested in her
in
that way
.”

“No?”

“Come on,” she said, shooting me a look, “you know what I
mean. Doug is a good-looking, successful guy, capable of attracting hot women.
Karen was hot. Even Jackie Baldwin is hot in her own, obvious way. Carly is
lovely but… I don’t think she’s his type.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I admitted.

“But enough about that,” she said, and her tone became gentle.
“I’ll talk to the girls and we’ll try to be more understanding of your feeling.
But… do you think you might like to talk to a professional? To help you move
beyond Karen’s accident?”

“I think I’m fine with it… really.”

“We don’t want to stick our noses in where they don’t
belong, but we’re worried about you. You seem almost… obsessed with it.”

“I’m not. I just… well, everyone grieves in their own way,
Jane. I really need to
feel
the pain and the loss, to surrender to my
emotions. I need to
own
the grief in order to move on.”

Luckily, Jane had not watched the same
Dr. Phil
episode on dealing with grief that I had. As I had surmised, she was appeased.
“I understand. But I want you to know that you’re not alone. If you need any
help… any comfort or support…”

We stopped at the edge of my driveway. “I’ll call you,” I
said.

“We’re always there for you—Trudy, Carly and me.”

“I know. Thanks for caring so much.” I squeezed her hand.
“See you later.”

“Actually… could I use your washroom quickly? I think I’m
going to run for a couple of miles now.”

“Sure.” I tried not to let on how winded I was as she
followed me to my house. I bounded energetically up the stairs to the porch
trying to give the impression that I, too, could run a couple of miles if only
I weren’t so busy. About to put my key in the lock, Jane halted me.

“There’s something in your mailbox.” I could hear her
lifting the brass lid and extracting it, but I was too frightened to turn
around. Please just be the mail… all bills even… please.

“What is it?” I asked, casually as I continued to open the
door.

“Look.” It was a small rectangular box, professionally
gift-wrapped in gold paper with an enormous red bow. Damn that Javier! Damn him
all to hell!!! I should never have left the house. “I saw the ribbon peeking
out,” Jane said, excitedly. “Who’s it from?”

“It’s from Paul,” I said, smiling beatifically. “I had a
feeling he was going to surprise me like this.”

“Well… open it!”

She followed me inside and, slipping our trainers off, on
into the kitchen. “I think I’ll wait until he gets home,” I said, placing the
box on the counter.

“Don’t be silly. If he wanted you to wait until he got home,
he’d have given it to you himself. It’s got to be jewelry,” she continued,
gleefully. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s our anniversary,” I lied.

“Your anniversary’s in August.”

“Not our
wedding
anniversary. Another date we
celebrate… it’s sort of… private.”

“Oh! Aren’t you two romantic! Open it. Open it!”

I feared she would never leave if she didn’t get a glimpse
at the contents. Removing the tiny card and tucking it into the pocket of my
hoodie for later, private viewing, I began to tear off the paper.

“Hurry,” Jane said. “I have to pee.”

When the flat silver box was unwrapped, I began to remove
the lid. Hopefully, Jane would attribute the trembling of my hands to
anticipation. What was revealed was not jewelry. It was an iPod.

“The new iPod!” Jane cried. “Nice.”

An iPod? Javier had bought me an iPod? It didn’t seem to
fit. He’d started out with pressed flowers and cutesy notes, and moved onto
sensual body products. As cool as it was, an iPod just didn’t conform to his
romantic gifting pattern.

“This is even better than my one,” my friend was saying as
she removed the gadget from its box. “You’ll love it, Paige. You can store ten
thousand songs in here and multiple play lists. I don’t know how I ever worked
out before I got mine.”

“Great.”

“Let me see…” she pressed the wheel on the front. “He’s put
some songs on here for you.” I made a frantic grab for it, but it was too late.
“What?” She brought the tiny screen closer to her eyes. “These are all Spanish
songs.”

Now the gift made sense. If I could read Spanish I would
undoubtedly find that they were all highly romantic love songs.

“Oh! Paul’s so sweet,” I said, reclaiming the iPod. “It’s
the anniversary of our first trip to Mexico.”

“Oh…” Jane sounded mildly puzzled.

“It was a really special vacation… the first time he… told
me he loved me…” I smiled demurely.

“I had no idea Paul was so romantic,” Jane said, impressed.
“I’ll just use your ladies room and be on my way.”

While she was in the bathroom I hurriedly removed the card
from my pocket and tore it open.

Beautiful music for a beautiful woman,

J.

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any cheesier! I mean,
did women really fall for this stuff? Had Karen fallen for it? Then I noticed,
at the very bottom of the card, more tiny handwriting.

I must see you!

When Jane had left, I sat down on the couch and stared at
the tiny card. I felt sick, physically sick. My life was slipping out of my
control and it was only a matter of time before it all blew up. For the first
time, I felt just the slightest hint of… fear. Was Javier becoming obsessed
with me? Could I be in danger? I had always felt at ease in his presence,
completely safe. But what did I know about hanging out with murderers? One
thing was certain: Javier was more tenacious than I had realized. He was
certainly not like a very attractive pimple that you could just ignore and it
would go away. He was more like some nasty rash that refused to disappear
without medication.

Adding to my angst was the fact that I hated lying. I didn’t
just hate it—I truly believed that it caused cancer. Now, I found myself
entangled in a web of deceit. How long could I keep up this charade? How long
could I keep Paul and Jane apart? They were bound to run into one another and
the whole thing would unravel. Paul would say, “Hey Jane. Thanks for the
chocolate-flavored body mousse you bought for Paige. Yum, yum!” And Jane would
say, “Chocolate-flavored body mousse? What are you talking about?” Or, Jane
would say, “Hi, Paul, you romantic devil, you! I’m so impressed that you bought
Paige an iPod loaded with Spanish songs to commemorate the first time you told
her you loved her in Mexico.” And Paul would say, “What? The first time I told
her I loved her was drunk at the campus bar at D.U. What are you talking
about?”

And what was I supposed to do with this iPod? I couldn’t
just throw it away, could I? It was worth a lot of money. And it could store up
to ten thousand songs! And it could finally be the catalyst to get me to start
exercising! If Jane saw me out power-walking she would certainly wonder, where
is her fabulous little iPod? I didn’t want to arouse her suspicions. Oh, what
was I talking about? I couldn’t keep it. It was a gift from a veritable
stalker. It was loaded with romantic Spanish love songs intended to make me
think fondly of the aforementioned stalker. Maybe if I deleted all the romantic
Spanish loves songs, I could keep it?

I knew what I wanted to do with the iPod. I wanted to drive
down to The Old Grind, throw the door open wide and stalk to the back counter.
When Javier turned around, looking all gorgeous and delighted to see me, I
would throw the box at him. “Take your stupid gift!” I would scream. “You may
have ruined Karen’s life, but you’re not going to ruin mine. Stay away from me
Rueda,” I would growl, threateningly. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
This, of course, would be foreshadowing for when the police told him I’d
provided them with his DNA.