The Woman He Married (41 page)

Ugh
. Josie turned off the engine and descended back out of the van. When the teen boys saw her approaching they instinctually stiffened and assumed angelic expressions.

“What’s going on here?” Josie questioned authoritatively, suddenly noticing that the boys stood over six feet at the very least, compared to her five foot six petite frame. She wished she’d thought to call for…‘back up’.

“Nothing, we were just having a little fun,” answered a rather handsome blond, curly-headed boy in a letterman’s jacket. He let go of the girl and she fell to the curb. Josie had seen him before but couldn’t place who his parents were.

Watching the poor thing go down hard, Josie rolled her eyes. “Where are her parents?”

“She came with me,” the blond boy said.

The girl looked up through hazed eyes, asking, “What’s
goin
’ on, I thought we were
gonna
…” Her voice died away.

Josie recognized the girl’s face immediately. The teen was none other than Lori Watson’s daughter. Sighing, Josie wondered if her life could possibly get any more complicated.

“All right.
You boys help me get her into my van, and maybe I won’t tell your parents what you’ve been up to.”

Shooting nervous glances back and forth, the boys hefted up their drunken friend, dragging her, as she protested malevolently, over to the van.

* * * *

About half way to Lori’s house, the girl started moaning and rolling her head back and forth on the seat. “I’m
gonna
be sick,” she slurred.

Oh great
, Josie thought as she hit the power-down button for the passenger window. “Do it outside—” Before she could finish her words, the girl turned her head and vomited all over the side of the van. “Just keep your head out the window please. The fresh
air’ll
do you good.” The phrase,
no good deed goes unpunished
, kept playing through her head while it appeared that, somehow, this van was cursed.

After pulling up to the girl’s house, Josie held her breath so she wouldn’t heave while she opened the passenger door, unbuckled the girl, and helped her slide out and onto the driveway. Supporting the teen as best she could, Josie towed the girl up to the front door and rang the bell.

The stare from Lori’s eyes was as cold as usual when it met Josie’s. But as Josie struggled to steady the teen she watched as Lori’s face tightened into humiliation when she started to understand the reason for her visit.

Lori instructed her husband to take their drunken daughter up to bed,
then
she turned to Josie. Fists clenched and eyes blazing, she asked, “I’m sure you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly.”
Josie thought about the half-digested food that was now dripping from her passenger door. “I have a daughter, too, you know. I’d hope you’d do the same for me
if
…heaven forbid.”

Through tapered eyes, Lori scrutinized Josie suspiciously before shutting the door ungratefully in her face.

Back at home, the spray from the hose chilled Josie’s bare legs as she washed her “good deed” from the side of the van. With the water, she sent the regurgitation down the drive as well. Holding her breath again to keep from vomiting, Josie thought about how Lori’s daughter was so young to be out drinking like that.
What if I hadn’t been there? Children learn from their parents, don’t they? What have my children learned about drinking from watching me?
She thought about her own behavior and shuddered again, now determined more than ever to set a better example from this day forward.

* * * *

Confident that a warm shower was only minutes away, Josie was surprised to hear music playing when she stepped into the house. The scent of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air. Donning oven mitts, John held warm bread wrapped in foil. “Hey, babe, you hungry?” he said, grinning proudly while kicking the oven closed with his heel.

On the counter, Beth was tossing the salad liberally, spilling a considerable amount onto the floor. “We made supper!” she exclaimed, both hands in the salad bowl. Josie cringed, hoping John had made sure she washed her hands first. In the breakfast nook, she could hear Jack and Bobbie arguing over which side of the plate the knife went on.

Josie thought she must have fallen asleep at the wheel, crashed, died, and somehow wound up in heaven. She pinched herself to be sure she was wrong. After washing up, she took her seat at the table and John set a plate down in front of her. She savored her t-bone steak as her famished body silently thanked John for cooking supper. At the other end of the table, he cut Beth’s meat into small pieces while teasing Jack—now onto his second romance of the fifth grade—about being a lady’s man. “A chip off the old block,” he said proudly. Josie thought about protesting, but her family seemed content at the moment, and she couldn’t bear to disturb the tranquility.
How many years
have I wished for a supper just like this one?

When the plates had been cleared, the kitchen straightened, and the kids were in bed, Josie watched John as he set the leftovers in the refrigerator and closed the door. She hated to admit it, but she’d really enjoyed having him around lately—feeling like a “real” family. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she rubbed her shoulders, remembering how it felt when he’d embraced her in the winner’s circle earlier today.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” Josie said, exhausted from the day—from the conflicting emotions waging war inside her.

She was ready for a shower, but John wanted to talk.

“Next week the Belles of the Confederacy are having their annual formal and award ceremony,” he announced—like Josie should care. “Guess who they’re honoring as man of the year?” he continued with a sly grin. “Yours truly, and I need you to go with me.”

“Really?”
Josie gave him a skeptical look. “And when did you become acquainted with the Belles?”

“The dance studio.
Some of the moms are members of the board.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “They asked me since I’m a ‘hero’
and
the perfect husband—at least they think so,” he said, his cheeks reddening. “But it’s really because their original nominee got into some kind of scandalous legal trouble.”

Josie felt her guard re-solidifying. “So that’s what this is all about?” Her words oozed contempt. “Buttering me up so I’ll go with you? The perfect husband couldn’t possibly show up without a
wife
.”

John’s shoulders fell.
“Not exactly.
I’m just glad you’re letting me help out around here. I like it, being home,
spending
time with the kids and all.”

“Like you couldn’t have helped out before?”

“You always wanted everything a certain way with the kids. It seemed like I never did anything right.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “After a while, I just stopped trying.”

Of course she wanted—no
needed
—his help. Josie’s first instinct was to blast him, and she took a moment to decide which “choice” words to call him first. But then, something in his eyes told her he truly had felt excluded all these years. Scanning the recesses of her memory, Josie realized something for the first time…

“It was easier for me to just do it. Besides I didn’t know what I was doing myself. I didn’t know how to be a mom,” she said. Her voice trembled slightly with the recollection of how inept she’d felt as a young mother. She wondered how many women have criticized their husband’s efforts to lend a hand only to spend the rest of their marriage complaining that he didn’t help. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t need you.”

“Maybe I pushed you into motherhood before you were ready,” he said with obvious regret.

Now Josie was really suspicious.
If he’s playing the martyr, he deserves an Academy Award. He can’t be for real. Can he?
 
But, deep down, she knew he was right, whether he truly meant it or not. Her heart started to ache for what could have been, if she’d stood up for herself in the first place. She should have insisted that they wait to have children.
How long
am I going to keep blaming John, before accepting responsibility for my share of our problems?

“I should have said something… I should have told you how I felt, made sure you were listening, that you heard me.” Josie swallowed her pride, choking as it went down.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“I don’t know. I just wanted you to be happy…for our marriage to work. I wan…”
I wanted you to love me
, she started to say, but the words got caught in her throat.

“Well, whether you were ready or not, you’ve done a great job.” Reaching his hand out to take hers, he stopped before touching her and Josie found herself wishing he hadn’t. “We have some pretty amazing kids,” he said.

Josie began to feel uncomfortable with the tone this conversation was taking. She was afraid that at any minute she might throw her arms around his neck, apologizing for…something. “Boy, you’re really turning ‘it’ on, aren’t you? You must really want me to go,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Is it working?” John asked, with a devious smile. “You can buy a new dress and shoes.” Letting out a sigh, he dropped the folly and reiterated. “I really want you there; you’re my wife and…” He didn’t finish.

Still suspicious that he was playing her for a fool, Josie said, “Well, in that case how can I refuse?” while planning to buy the most expensive dress and shoes she could find.

Chapter 14

Careful not to muss the most amazing up-do Josie had ever seen, she eased her new dress over her head. It hadn’t been the most expensive dress she’d considered, but when she’d slipped it on and saw the way the smooth chocolate fabric swept the floor and how the empire waist, cap sleeves, and beading accentuated her figure, she’d known this was the one.

Reaching to the side, she experienced trouble pulling up the zipper and turning to her reflection in the closet mirror, she saw that the dress had somehow become too snug around the bosom.

Spinning from side to side in confusion, she pressed her breasts down, attempting to tuck them in.

“It didn’t fit this tight in the store less than a week ago,” she puzzled. But it was too late to change to another dress, and besides, she didn’t want to wear anything else. As she took one last look, her gaze was drawn from her reflection to rest on John’s side of the closet. Her heart sank as she took in the void. It was practically empty now; only odds and ends remained. Josie sighed, gazing, forlorn, at the emptiness.

“Momma, do you like this color?” Beth called from the bathroom counter where she’d perched herself, “helping” Josie get ready for the big night.

“Wow, we’re going to have to take this down a notch,” Josie said, when her eyes met Beth’s in the mirror. She tried not to laugh on seeing that Beth had also smeared her expensive
Chanel
eye shadow across her lids, in a bright sparkling blue.

Pressing a tissue to her preschooler’s lips, Josie advised, “A lady always blots so her lipstick doesn’t end up all over her teeth.” Her cell rang and she knew it was work. Brian and Sandra never took a day off, not even Saturday night. On the other end, Sandra—not Brian since he was mad at Josie for playing the dutiful wife this evening—had a few questions that couldn’t wait.

* * * *

“Daddy, Daddy, don’t I look
perty
?” Beth sang as she skipped down the hall and out into the family room. Checking his watch, John looked up, and then hid his shock at seeing his little angel looking unusually wicked.