The Woman He Married (9 page)

She reached out to touch him as he slipped by.

“But… I need to talk to you,” she said in his wake.

“Not now,” he called back, strolling down the hall toward the door, grabbing his car keys from the side table on the way. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be late.”

Josie watched incredulously as he disappeared down the hall.
Am I just going to stand there and let him go?
Yes,
I am.
She felt like the proverbial frog that had found itself helplessly trapped in a boiling pot after the heat had risen so slowly, the poor creature didn’t realize what was happening. Only, instead of slowly simmering to death, somewhere along the way John had quit listening, while she had stopped caring enough to make him.

Leaning against the doorframe, Josie closed her eyes until she heard the sound of the door shut behind him.

He was gone.

Chapter 4

Josie paced the wood-planked floor backstage of the third-grade production. Checking her watch, she wondered what could be keeping Gina. The rain had been falling all day but Josie knew the weather could only be one cause for her friend’s tardiness—there was something at work Brian needed that she wasn’t able to finish yesterday because, well, she was at Josie’s.

Dressed in a Ralph Lauren snap-down print blouse with coordinating corduroy jacket, and her new favorite Lucky Brand Jeans, Josie felt she was dressed nice but practical, perfect for wrangling third graders. Or, maybe not…

All around her were eight-year-olds, some nervous and looking like they may heave their supper at any time, while others were so excited that they were literally bouncing off the walls.
Which up until now, Josie had thought, was just a figure of speech.

She checked her watch again.

“What’d I miss?” Gina was out of breath. “There’s not enough parking in this
damn
place. I had to hike three blocks.” Dressed in green cords, white button-down, and a denim jacket, she almost tripped over a little girl in a carrot costume as she bounded in.
Nervous before, the little actor now looked like she was about to cry.

“So—did you get everything done?” Gina asked, passing the little carrot a piece of candy out of her pocket while putting her finger to her lips and saying, “
Shhhh
.”

“I think so. Two crazy days in a row,” Josie said. As if involvement in the third-grade production wasn’t enough, now she had to get ready for this trip. For a mother of three, getting ready to go out of town wasn’t just a matter of packing. If it were that simple, moms everywhere would take more time away from their families. Truth be told, it was just plain easier to stay home.

“Sampson needed more dog food,” Josie said, thinking about how their Sheepdog couldn’t just eat ordinary food, he needed special food. “I had to drive clear across town. Honestly, he’s a dog for heaven’s sake, and he eats better than three-quarters of the people in
China
, and also gets better health care than most American children.”

“Um, huh,” Gina agreed.

“With the exception of some leftovers from the dinner party, there wasn’t much food in the house, so I needed to grocery shop.” Josie took a breath. “Then, Beth needed new tights for dance because evidently, Puffer-Lee-Anderson thought wearing tights while sliding would help them go down faster, which they did, resulting in a serious tear upon landing.” Puffer-Lee-Anderson was Beth’s teddy bear and best imaginary friend. “Bobbie needed supplies for a book report, due before we return, and I had to do laundry and pack.”

Gina drew her brows together.

But, because Josie had mistakenly told her friend about Trisha and the bracelet, she knew Gina wasn’t only asking if she’d accomplished all of her daily tasks. “And, no, I didn’t talk to John,” she added. When Gina’s eyebrows went up with that
why-am-I-not-surprised
look, Josie said, “He left before I had a chance. And, what was I supposed to say? ‘Where’s my bracelet?’ I mean, if it’s supposed to be a surprise then it would be selfish of me to ruin it.” She tried to pretend she didn’t know how ridiculous she sounded.

Anyway, the more she thought about it, the more she’d convinced herself that there was simply no way he could be, well,
you know
. After all, she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d ignore or even put up with that kind of behavior.
I’m not my mother,
she kept telling herself. The truth was
,
she really didn’t want to know.

Gina opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when Pamela Sanders swept across the stage, calling out “Places, places, everyone!” Shooting Gina a,
glad-you-finally-decided-to-show-up
look, she snatched a bowl of plastic sprouts from a boy who was about to use them as weapons.

Peeking out through the edge of the curtain once more before the play began, Josie saw parents mingling as a man with video equipment set up his camera to tape the performance for later sale at an obscene price to doting parents.

Sitting front and center, she saw the
Montgomerys
, flanked by Andy on one side and John on the other, with Patrick and Amy—checking her watch—behind them. Josie’s mother, Carol, looking perfect, as usual, in her Karen Kane sheer animal print blouse with black camisole, lightweight black wool slacks, and boots, had her arm draped over Beth’s seat and was running her fingers through Jack’s blond hair, seated next. Her meticulously styled hair was cut short around her ears and neck and longer on the top. It was dyed to its natural color, similar to Josie’s. Carol had always vowed never to have a gray hair.

Gloria, Josie’s mother-in-law, sat on one side of Andy’s twin daughters with
Lydia
on the other. A heavyset woman, her once blonde hair graying mostly in the front, she was dressed in tan slacks and a navy silk blouse. She looked nice, but next to Josie’s designer mom’s clothing, one could tell that Gloria’s outfit probably came from Penny’s or Sears, maybe even Wal-Mart.

Trisha had shown up alone and positioned herself directly in front of John.

Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, John was talking to Trisha who was sitting sideways, facing up at him. From up on the stage, Josie could see that Trisha was wearing a red wrap-sweater that was cut low, exposing the impressive bulge of her breasts. She could only imagine what John’s view must be from up there.

Looking down at the front of her own blouse, Josie exhaled what was left of her vanity. Although she’d never considered herself lacking in the cleavage department, her breasts had expanded and contracted three times with pregnancy and breast-feeding—they just weren’t as perky as they once were. She watched their exchange a moment longer, feeling the trepidation regarding her marriage resurface as she observed John’s face and the way he looked to be hanging on Trisha’s every word. He never seemed to hear Josie anymore, much less appear interested in what she had to say.

“I see the gang’s all here.” Gina was looking over Josie’s shoulder. “And,
someone
 
is
wearing her ‘high priced hooker’ attire as usual.” She scoffed. “Those ‘cannonballs’ can’t possibly be real.”

Josie would like to think so too, but unfortunately she was pretty sure they were, in fact, authentic.

“Places, everyone!”
Pamela sang again, sweeping across the stage. “Places. Now remember that after the performance I want all the volunteers to go home and be with their families; just leave everything for now, it’ll still be here in the morning.”

An eerie calm fell over the children and adults backstage as the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the stage was suddenly flooded with light. Lori Watson’s voice welcomed everyone to the production. Josie wondered how Bobbie was doing on the other side of the stage.
Is he nervous, excited?

And then, something didn’t seem right, or there was something she was forgetting. She had a sudden urge to check on him when a girl dressed in a sweet little ruffled dress and mary-jean shoes appeared next to her. “Do I look all right?” the girl playing Jessica asked.

From the auditorium Josie heard Lori thanking everyone involved. Alarm instead of pride unexpectedly raked over her when she heard her name mentioned as the costume designer.

Straightening the large bow perched on top of the little actor’s ringlets, Josie said, “You look real fine.”

The girl playing the lead was Lori Watson’s daughter—of course. She had one of those
shi-shi
southern names that sounded like three last names all running together like, Madison Mason Watson, or Maven Wilson Watson. Who knew?

Unfortunately, one must be “connected” in order to participate in anything around here. Much to John’s dismay, Bobbie wanted to be an actor—among other things— when he grew up, so Josie had to volunteer just to get him a part.

The music started to play. Josie shook off her uneasy feeling and sent
Jessica
out onto the stage. The curtains opened to the scene of a dining room, the carrots surrounding Jessica, who was staring at them with exaggerated disgust. The narrator’s voice started…

“Jessica Smith didn’t like carrots. But the carrots liked her and thought it unfair.”

Josie and Gina readied the okra,
who
were up next. One of the little actors was complaining that he didn’t want to play a slimy old pod—his mom obviously didn’t have the right connections. “Suck it up, short stuff,” Gina said, pulling the costume down over his head.

Out on stage the carrots were saying,
“Jessica Smith, you must like us. Eating your veggies will make you feel good.”
They began dancing around Jessica, who shook her head. The carrots danced off the stage as the spinach plant came on.

The narrator spoke.
“The spinach plant was cunning and wise. He walked up to Jessie and stared in her eyes.”

The spinach plant leaned towards the girl.
“Eat up your veggies each day for a week, and we’ll arrange a special treat.”

Jessica shook her head again. Off went the spinach plant.

“I feel like we’re missing something. Did you…” Josie paused when she couldn’t come up with the thought teasing the edge of her brain.

“Did I what?” Gina asked, herding the sprouts out onto the stage.

“If Jessica could throw veggies out, the top of her list would be Brussels sprouts.”

The sprouts began their dance around her, singing,
“Eat up your veggies each day for a week, and we’ll arrange a special treat.”

Jessica put
a finger to her chin
, thinking. The sprouts danced off the stage.

“I don’t know,” Josie said as she pushed the cauliflower out.

“Jessica, I’m a beautiful collie. To not eat me would be terrible folly. And if you eat your veggies all week, you’ll end up with a special treat.”

Jessica nodded, and the stage filled with all the vegetables, all dancing.

Gina gave her friend a thoughtful look. “What could we possibly be missing?”

“Jessica ate her veggies each day, and showed her Mom she could put them away. And then there came the end of the week—she wondered about her special treat,”
the narration continued.

Out on stage, the finale loomed. The production seemed to be moving along smoothly. From the audience, Josie could hear the
oohs
and
aahs
of proud parents but she felt only slightly better.