The Woman He Married (46 page)

Elbows resting on his unusually disorganized desk, his face in his hands, John felt the weight of his decisions pressing down on his shoulders. How had his life come down to this?
The end of his career, his marriage, his dream.
What happens now? Will the firm take me back? Will Josie file for divorce?

A knock rattled his office door. “Not now, I’m busy,” he called to whoever thought to disturb brooding. He wasn’t in the mood for any more bad news.

“John, it’s me,”
came
Josie’s voice as she edged the door open and stepped in.

Awkwardly getting to his feet, he pushed back his black mesh ergonomic chair and stood. “Jocelyn, what are you doing here?”

Josie smiled and held out the envelope for him to take. “I just came to drop this off.”

John swallowed hard. “What is it?” He didn’t want to take it.

She waved the envelope. “Come on now, it’s not
gonna
bite ya.”

John forced himself to reach out and take the envelope he was sure contained the final chapter of his marriage. Keeping his eyes focused on Josie’s to steel the dread, he eased the papers out.

He quickly scanned the page, feeling relieved but confused. “What’s this?”

“It’s for your press conference. I wrote it for you last night,” she said. “You can use it or not; it’s up to you.” She bit her sexy bottom lip before saying, “Well, I have to go. I’m late.”

“Hold on, I’ll walk you out.” John set Josie’s work down. With his hand to the small of her back, he guided her out of his office and through the reception area. Opening the front door, he allowed her to exit before him. As he and Josie stepped out onto the sidewalk, he tried to ignore the agog faces of his campaign staff as they moved closer to the window for a better view.

John rubbed a nonexistent itch on the back of his neck. “Thanks for stopping by, and for your help. It looks good, what I read so far at least.” He wanted to say something else, to keep her here a little longer, but he couldn’t think of anything.

“Sure,” Josie said and then looked at him with a question. “Yesterday, Trisha said that you two have been seeing each other for nearly a year?”

“Sounds about right.”

“And before that?”
Josie watched his eyes closely.

“Never,” John said, definitively, gaze locked with hers. He wanted to say that he was sorry, a fool, but as he searched for the right words, Josie quickly turned away and climbed into the van before he had the chance.

Back in his office, John slumped in his chair as the growing ball of regret churned in the pit of his stomach. What could he have done or said differently the other night? What was she so desperate to hear? He’d wanted to tell her he loved her but he worried that she wouldn’t believe him—that she didn’t trust him enough to accept he meant it.

Then she’d come here this morning bearing a gift, helping without being asked. Could it be she still cared, or did she only want to help for the sake of their children? She looked so stunningly professional in her suit. He hoped against reason that Saturday night wasn’t the last time he’d ever touch her.

Turning his attention back to the speech, he carefully read the message she’d prepared, absorbing the fluidity, articulacy, and directness of her words—her skills as a lawyer, a writer, going unrealized all these years by him. Motherhood was the most important job a woman could hold, he still believed, while regretting that he was too blind, too traditional, to encourage her to do both.

Andy and Patrick burst through the door. He held up one finger to silence them while he finished the last two lines.

“Someone said Jocelyn was here.” Andy didn’t wait. “What did she want?”

“This.” John held up the envelope with the statement on top of it.

“Divorce papers?”

“No.” John tossed the speech across his desk for them to read. “It’s for the press conference tomorrow.”

“
Jocelyn
wrote this?” Patrick picked up the statement, and taking a seat, he started reading, with Andy leaning over his shoulder.

When he reached the bottom of the page, Patrick said, “This is good. Damn good.” He stood up and paced while thinking out loud. “It apologizes and accepts responsibility while subtly insinuating that the affair is no one’s business but yours, and Jocelyn’s of course. I like it.”

Andy grabbed the papers from Patrick and took a closer look. “Maybe we should’ve had Jocelyn writing your speeches all along.”

* * * *

Josie’s heart pounded as she made her way up the hillside cemetery, around low-growing live oaks, and across the thick grass, trying to remember exactly where the Judge had been buried almost nine years ago. She needed someone to talk to, but she’d already received all the advice she could handle from the living and to no avail. So she’d come to consult with the dead.

When she finally found him she greeted his headstone belligerently, saying, “Hello, Daddy.” Seeing his grave for the first time since the day they’d laid him here, she mocked the writing on his memorial. “Honestly, Daddy, ‘Loving Father, Devoted Husband,’ in what delusional universe would that statement be true? Even in death the charade continues.” She circled his grave boldly. “Don’t try to pretend Momma put that there. We both know she wouldn’t do anything unless you said so, even with you
dead
.” She kept moving—part of her expected him to pop up any moment and put an end to her disrespect.

“You’re probably wondering why such an ungrateful daughter finally came to visit her daddy after all this time. John comes, doesn’t he? After all, you loved him more—more than your own flesh and blood. Was it really so bad having me for a daughter?” Remembering the last precious moments of his miserable life, her words ripened with disdain. Choosing to speak his final words of advice to John, he had closed his eyes forever before addressing his only child. Then, long after everyone else had gone, she’d stayed with him, hoping he would open his eyes one more time.

“Just three simple words, Daddy, that’s all I needed.” Her eyes would have threatened to moisten but she had no more tears as her anger erupted.
“You bastard.
What was I thinking, coming to you for help?” She balled her hands into fists and mumbled obscenities.

“Why
John
, Daddy?
Why couldn’t you see what a wonderful man
Brian
was?
Because he was nothing like you?”
She stopped pacing and faced his headstone straight on. “You hated him ’cause he was a decent human being?” Her fists at her scalp, she pulled at her hair.

“He loved me and you, you…” She let out a deep growl that rolled up from her gut. Her scalp was burning. She released her fingers from her tangled hair and dropped her now limp arms to her side, letting all the hostility drain from her body.

What’s the use in staying angry with a dead man?

She slumped to the ground
. How am I supposed to figure all this out?
 
she
thought, questioning why she had come here in the first place.
Oh right, I came here looking for answers?

As silly as it now seemed, she decided to go ahead and give it a try.

Sighing, she plunged forward. “Since I’m here, we might as well have a chat.”

She took a deep breath and began.

“The truth is that I’ve made a mess of my life. No big surprise, right? It’s
all your
fault, you know…for introducing me to John, for not seeing what an amazing man Brian was, still is.” She wanted to blame her father, but she knew the Judge hadn’t exactly held a gun to her head, forcing her to fall for John.

“We have three beautiful children. You’d be proud. Jack’s just like you, serious all the time, focused. Bobbie… Well I haven’t quite figured him out yet, but he has a good heart.
And, Beth.”
She smiled through the tears now running warm as she spoke of her children. “She’s the perfect mix of me and Momma, ‘your two best girls’ you used to always say.” She wiped away a tear. “Too bad your actions didn’t speak louder than your words.” Suddenly aware that she was talking to a gravestone, she looked around to see if anyone was watching. Finding herself alone, she continued.

“I passed the bar and I’m working now—won my first case.” She smiled proudly but she couldn’t make the joy reach her eyes. “I can’t believe I am admitting this.” She swallowed hard before finishing. “I don’t really like working. When I’m there, I just want to be home. And there’s something else—I think I’m pregnant again.” She wiped away another tear.
Sniffed.
“I didn’t think I wanted any more children, but somehow, even with everything a mess, this baby gives me hope,” she finished, then closed her eyes and waited for answers that wouldn’t come.

When she opened her eyes again she got to her feet and smiled through her tears down at her father’s grave. “’Bye, Daddy,” she said, blowing him a kiss before turning to leave. As she did the wind whipped her hair up and off her shoulders, slapping it against her face.

The stiff breeze spoke to her in a raspy whisper: “I love you, baby girl. Follow your heart, it’ll always show you the way,” followed by what sounded like ice tinkling in a brandy glass. A little cigar smoke and she could have been certain that her ranting had raised the Judge from the dead. Her legs grew weak, and she fell to her knees. She knew he couldn’t have spoken to her, but somehow she felt strangely comforted. Tracing the words engraved in the granite stone, she whispered cathartically, “I love you too, Daddy.”

* * * *

Josie checked the window on the early pregnancy test again to make sure she’d read it correctly the first time before dropping it back into the box. Yesterday she’d spent most of the day leaning against the Judge’s headstone, trying to make sense of her predicament. Did she still want to divorce John now that he’d become the husband she always wanted, and she’d evidently reemerged as the “woman he married”?
And Brian?
She’d never had to question his love for her, and doubted that she ever would. Had pursuing her career proved to be as fulfilling as she’d hoped? Tossing the box into the trash, she looked up and gasped when she saw John’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. How long had he been standing behind her?

“What are you doing in here?” she barked.

Fussing with the cuff of his dress shirt, he said, “I’m looking for my lucky cufflinks, the ones your daddy gave me when I graduated law school.”

“When was the last time you wore them?”

He shrugged, opening drawers and moving things around. “The night of the dinner party, I think.”

“Well, I haven’t seen them, but I have to go—the kids are going to be late for school.” She felt like she should say something else. John hadn’t asked her to come today and she hadn’t offered. Standing beside him playing the supportive, dutiful wife at the press conference just didn’t bode well with her. Humiliation was bad enough without having to act like it didn’t bother her. “Um, good luck today. I’ll be watching from the office.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said and then looked at her through soulful eyes. “The day your father died, he made me promise to take care of you.” His mouth twitched ever so slightly into what may have been a regretful smile. “I haven’t done a very good job, have I?”

Josie closed her eyes.
Thank you, God,
she said to herself, now knowing that her father had indeed loved her after all.
Opening her eyes, she bit down on her lip to hide the affection she felt churning inside.

“Maybe, it was me who didn’t know how to let you,” she admitted, and then had no choice but to go.

* * * *

John watched hopelessly as she disappeared through the bedroom double doors, wishing he could pull her back, turn back the clock, and start over.

Frustrated, he flung things about and accidentally turned over the small jewelry box Josie kept in the bathroom to hold the few pieces she wore more regularly, strewing gold and silver about the counter. Among its contents, John spied one of his cufflinks as the other slid across the counter and fell into the trashcan. Swearing, he started replacing the jewelry back into the box until Josie’s wedding ring caught his eye.