Authors: Shirley Jump
We left Pigeon Forge, Harvey in a brand-new crate on my plastic-coated backseat. I’d left the door of the crate open, per Vinny’s advice, in case the dog felt like being sociable.
Susan sat beside me, uncharacteristically silent. The green rectangle of a highway sign blaring an upcoming exit for I–81 North loomed over the car, then disappeared.
One way, home. The other way, Annie.
Susan grasped the silver-buckled purse in her lap, her grip as tight as mine had been on the steering wheel a couple days earlier. It seemed like the trip down from Newton was a year ago, not a few days.
“I can’t do this, Penny,” Susan said. “You have to go it alone.”
I eased onto the shoulder, stopped the car and shut it off, then unbuckled and turned in the seat to face her. This didn’t sound like the kind of conversation I should have while trying to drive to Cleveland. Behind us, Harvey perched his paws on the front seat, watching the exchange. “What do you mean, go it alone?”
“I mean I’m done. I can’t pretend anymore. And I sure as heck can’t meet Annie and her little Mother Goose family.” She blew steam onto the window, then traced a circle in it, avoiding looking at me and at Harvey.
“I don’t want to meet her, either, but I think we have to. We still don’t know if Dave married her or—”
“I don’t want to know.”
The firm finality of Susan’s words surprised me. “Why? When we started out you were all gung ho. Even said this was fun.”
Ten points for me for not scoffing after I said the word.
“It was. With you. We’re kind of the same. But Annie…”
I laughed. “You and I are about as alike as Mutt and Jeff.”
Susan let out a chuckle, then sobered and finally turned to face me. “We’re both damned good at pretending, aren’t we?”
“I’m not pretending anything.”
“Uh-huh. And my breasts are real, too.”
“Seriously, Susan. I’m not…” My voice trailed off. I
was
pretending, at least with everyone I met. I’d been acting all along, at the wake, the funeral, on the road trip with Susan, pretending everything was fine, that this would all work out. “Okay, maybe I am,” I said finally. “But that doesn’t mean that I want to stop this. Or turn around. After everything, I’d rather deal with truth than with what-ifs.”
Susan ignored my statement. She unclipped then reclipped the clasp on her purse. “Have you thought about why Dave sought out another woman? Because I sure have. Since I found out about Annie, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“He was a nymphomaniac.” Lord knows he hadn’t been all that busy in our marital bed in the past two years, but he had surely been busy with Susan. Any man in his right mind would have.
“No, he definitely wasn’t that.” She laughed. “I know why he wasn’t happy with me. I know why I wasn’t enough. But still, I never imagined he’d find someone else.” Her voice had gotten smaller, each syllable laced with pain.
I sat in the car, silent, listening to the traffic whiz by, sounding like loud zippers being opened again and again.
“It was the baby,” Susan said after a long while. “That’s what drove him away.”
My body froze, veins turning to ice, spine as immovable as Mount Everest. I worked my mouth around the letters, trying three times before I could get the word out. “Baby?”
“I didn’t want one. I—” Susan sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and pivoted away from me.
My hand reached out and covered hers. An odd sisterhood, formed by circumstance. No one else in the world understood what each of us felt. Just Susan and me.
And, in the course of this trip, she had become a friend.
“Because of your career?” I asked. “That’s why I told him no. I was too busy at work, making my way up the ladder.”
“Trust me, my career as a waitress was never anything big. Dave bought me that house and paid for me to go to college. He thought I could be something. Something more.” She shook her head. “Anyway, it wasn’t because of my job. It was because of this.” She swept a hand over her perfect hourglass frame. “I didn’t want to undo all that I had worked so hard to create. I was terrified that if I got pregnant, I’d go back to being that other woman, the one society looked at as nothing more than a gigantic, lazy loser.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have—”
“I had an abortion,” she said, nearly spitting the words out, as if she were yanking out a splinter. “I chose my body, Penny.
I chose these—” she smacked at her chest with her free hand, so hard I expected her to wince “—over my husband. Over the man who had changed my life. Given me a life, really.”
“Did Dave find out?”
She nodded, and the pain in her face made me want to take her in my arms, as if I were the mother and she the child, as I had done so many times for Georgia over the years of our childhood. Instead, I went on holding Susan’s hand. “I told him, just before he left for that trip to Ohio. We’d fought about it again that day.” She paused. “The day he died.”
The jigsaw puzzle assembled itself over our heads. Dave, wanting a baby so badly he’d married another woman, only to be rebuffed again. Neither of us spoke for a long time. Harvey put his two front paws on the headrest and nuzzled my cheek. I gave him an absentminded pat.
“I didn’t want a baby, either,” I admitted. Susan was the first person I’d ever told the truth to. Always, with Dave, with Georgia, I’d put up the career block, instead of the truth. “It wasn’t my job, though that was the excuse I gave Dave, and me. I guess it was easier than saying I was afraid to have a child, because you know Dave, he would have tried to talk me into it.” I inhaled, waited as a line of school buses passed us. “I didn’t want a dog or a cat or a baby or anything that would upset the perfect order of my life. I worked too hard to escape chaos to want to invite it back into my world again.”
“Do you think that’s why he kept looking? Because he wanted a child?” Susan’s eyes filled with tears. “Is that why he married Annie?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice cracking into the same range as Susan’s. “But it sure looks that way.”
“I can’t go there,” Susan repeated, shaking her head now, firming her resolve. “I can’t see her, with Dave’s baby, knowing I did this. Knowing I wanted my hips and my breasts more than a child. I don’t want to know the truth, Penny. I can’t handle it.”
“Susan—”
“Don’t you understand? I am
not
like you. I would never have gone to your house and asked you to come down here, to go meet Matt and Vinny and Annie. I didn’t even want Dave’s dog. I dumped him on you and ran away. Until you showed up on my porch, I was doing a damned good job of avoiding the whole thing. It’s amazing what a lot of time in a mall can do for your psyche.”
She let out a little laugh after the words, but the joke rang hollow and empty.
“But, Susan, don’t you want to—”
“No,
Penny, I don’t. At first, this was a big adventure. It seemed like it might be fun. Even…therapeutic. But it hasn’t been.” She paused. A semi whipped past us so fast it shook the car. Harvey let out a little yip, of either complaint or worry, I wasn’t sure. “All I’ve done in the last few days is think about Dave and about what went wrong in our marriage. And what I did to make it happen.”
I sat back against the car door, surprised to hear my own thoughts echoed back. “You never showed it, never said a word.”
A wry smile crossed Susan’s face. “Like I said, it’s all fake.”
“Oh, Susan. You’re not fake. You’re one of the realest people I’ve ever met.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she reached across the front seat, drawing me into a hug. This wasn’t like the hugs other
women had given me in the funeral home, those reserved sympathy hugs that stayed behind a certain line of decorum. This was a full-out, thank-you-for-being-my-friend embrace. My arms went around her and I clutched her back just as tightly.
What an odd alliance we had formed. Never had I thought when I saw her and her rhinestone-studded shoes at my husband’s wake that I would actually grow to like Susan Reynolds. I definitely hadn’t thought I’d end up hugging her on the side of a highway in Tennessee.
If I’d been Walt Disney, I couldn’t have written a more fantastical ending to this story.
Susan drew back, swiped at her eyes, smearing her perfect makeup. “I’m going home to Rhode Island, Penny, and I’m going to pretend none of this ever happened. It’s what I do best.”
“That’s not healthy, Susan. You have to deal with this eventually.” So would I, but I left my own emotional issues out of the conversation. Seemed we had enough angst in the car already.
“No, I don’t. Because the only way I know to deal with life and the crap it throws at me is with a box of Krispy Kremes. I won’t go back to being that woman. Not even for Dave. Or you.”
Georgia kept me company the whole way to Ohio, burning up my cell minutes with a speakerphone conversation that kept me distracted enough that I could forget the purpose of my trip. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fly down there and meet you?” my sister said, her voice oddly disjointed from the cell connection. “I could be there in a few hours.”
“No, thanks. I need to do this by myself.” I was finally back on the road, after dropping Susan at the Knoxville airport and buying her a ticket home. We’d hugged and cried like college roommates, and I’d promised to call her when I got back to Newton.
A part of me was glad Susan was gone. What I’d said to Georgia was true—I
did
need to do this by myself. It was kind of like growing up all over again. I’d started doing that at the Dog-Gone-Good Show, both with Harvey and with Matt.
Now there was a course I could teach: Learning how to be an adult widow in fifteen easy steps.
“You don’t have to carry the whole world on your shoulders, Penny,” Georgia said, her voice crackling a little as I drove under an overpass.
“I’m not.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been doing it since you were five.” On the other end, ice clinked into a glass, followed by the sound of running water. “You became mom and dad and everything in between.”
“Dad was gone, Georgia. And Mom…”
“Zoned out.”
A moment of silence hummed across the line. “Yeah.”
“You know, that might have something to do with all of this. Maybe it’s part of why you didn’t see what was going on with Dave.”
“I didn’t see it because he kept it a secret.” I refused to become one of those talk-show counseling patients who blamed every adult mistake on my parents being screwed up. I made my own choices, not all of them good, it seemed.
“Nothing’s ever a secret, not really. There were signs, Penny. You just chose to ignore them.” Georgia’s voice was soft with concern, not recrimination. She knew me best, out of everyone in my life, and loved me best, out of everyone in my life.
Nevertheless, it felt odd, after so many years of being the voice of wisdom to Georgia to be hearing the same back from her. Little sisters, it seemed, did indeed grow up. And turn the tables.
“I—” I cut off the denial before it vocalized. I thought back to all the long trips, the weekends when he was suddenly unavailable or he didn’t answer his cell phone. Always, Dave had had an excuse. If I’d wanted to, I could have pressed the
issue. I just hadn’t wanted to, because doing so would have meant inviting Mr. Chaos over for afternoon tea. He was never a very good guest. “I guess I did.”
“And don’t you think at least part of that is because of what happened when we were kids?”
“Oh, come on, Georgia, this isn’t an episode of
Oprah.
It’s real life. I didn’t see what Dave was doing because I wanted my marriage to work.”
“And the fact that we were abandoned at three and five by a father who went out for a gallon of milk and never came back had nothing at all to do with that?”
I didn’t answer her. Silence filled the space between us.
“All I’m saying is you might want to consider the past as part of your present.”
“History repeating itself and all that? Well, my husband did come back. Explain that one.”
“He loved you.”
I snorted. A Mazda passed me, the driver hitting at least ninety in the fast lane.
“If it wasn’t love that kept him coming back, what was it?” Georgia asked.
“It couldn’t be love. You don’t do this to the people you love.”
“Maybe Dave was the kind who loved too much.”
I groaned, then moved into the center lane, avoiding a semi rolling up the on-ramp, the driver chatting on his cell, distracted enough that I wasn’t going to put the Benz in his path. “Now you’re really starting to sound like a self-help book.”
Georgia laughed. “That’s why they exist. To give me good one-liners. Listen, I could be totally wrong. Just think about it, that’s all I’m saying. Give Georgia’s words of wisdom a chance.”
“I will.”
“And when you meet Annie…”
“Yeah?” I prompted when my sister paused.
“Give her the benefit of the doubt. I doubt she’s the evil Witch of the West who absconded with your man. Susan, remember, was just as stunned by this as you were. Apparently cool shoes don’t make you smarter.”
I chuckled. “She did have some nice shoes. And she wasn’t a bad person.”
“Oh, damn, Penny. I gotta go. My Reiki appointment is in ten minutes. Now I’ll have to rush right over there.”
“Isn’t the point of Reiki to teach you to be calm?”
“No, the point is for me to visit with the cute instructor and watch his butt whenever he’s walking around the room. It’s a hell of a vantage point, you know, sitting on the floor on pillows.”
I laughed and disconnected the call, then put on my blinker and eased into the lane leading to the next exit, which promised food, gas and a hotel. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been six hours since I’d eaten anything. Not that I expected to find anything remotely healthy at a place labeled Trucker’s Oasis, but it was better than passing out at the wheel from starvation.
A red Honda eased in behind me, and followed me all the way off the ramp and into the parking lot of the fast-food restaurant I’d chosen. I swung into a space, then saw the Honda take the space to my right.
Not that unusual for another car to take the space beside me or for two drivers to simultaneously select this restaurant out of the four on the strip, but still…unnerving. I sat in the
Benz, clutching my keys, trying to think of what I’d learned in that self-defense class I’d taken with Georgia three years ago. Nothing came to mind. That one, too, had had a cute instructor.
A knock on my window made me jump. I turned, ready to scream for help, when I noticed a familiar face through the window. “Matt?”
Joy fluttered through me, chased by a renewal of the attraction I’d felt for him. They were heady feelings, almost too big to handle.
He grinned and I lowered the window. “I thought you might want some company.” His gaze connected with mine, and his green eyes softened, touching a tender vein in me. “You know, to meet Annie.”
Not my favorite topic of conversation, not with Matt at least. Every time I was around him, my thoughts scattered down other paths.
“I’m fine on my own. Really.” I got out, locked the car, leaving the windows down a bit for Harvey, then turned to go into the fast-food restaurant. “Chicken nuggets.”
“What?” Matt said, falling into step beside me, unsolicited. But not turned away, either. To be honest, I was glad for the company.
“I have to get Harvey some chicken nuggets. He really likes them. And then…” I drew in a breath, my attention going to the busy highway, cars whipping by at NASCAR speed.
“You don’t really want to meet Annie, do you?” He stepped in front of me to open and then hold the door as I passed through.
“I’m not thinking about what I want.” I shivered a bit. Should have worn my jacket, but after all that time in the car,
I’d gotten hot and forgotten the spring air was sometimes still nearly winter temperature. “Because I can’t have what I want.”
Matt took my arm and drew me into an alcove beside a lottery-ticket dispenser. A little hand-lettered and misspelled sign said a ten-thousand-dollar winner had been sold here last week, followed by a full row of exclamation points. “What do you want?”
“My life back. Exactly the way it was.” But did I? After the dog show, the sandwiches by the river?
“Living in blissful ignorance?”
“Hey, that’s not fair.”
“It’s true, Penny. Until Dave died, you had no idea what else was going on. Now you know some of it at least.” He studied me. “Do you really want to go back to the status quo?”
“I can’t. My husband is dead, remember? Besides, what do you care?” I lashed out, not wanting to have this discussion, not beside a bunch of scratch-off tickets and a Coke display. Not wanting to have it at all, in fact. “If it’s Harvey you’re worried about, don’t worry. He’ll keep on being your cash cow.”
Matt took a step back, his face paling, looking as if I’d hit him. “I don’t care if Harvey ever makes another dime. What I care about is you.”
“Me?” I scoffed, but inside parts of me were tingling, both with awareness and a little fear. This was new territory, this interest from a man other than my husband, and I still wasn’t sure which way to navigate. “You barely know me.”
“I know you deserve more than a life built on lies.”
I threw up my hands and walked away from him, pretending to be wildly interested in the potato chip selection. “I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to date anyone or
think about another life. All I want right now is to get to Cleveland and get this over with.”
Matt shrugged. “Okay.”
“Okay what?” I grabbed a bag of Doritos off the shelf, then put them back. I jerked another bag up, my vision too blurred to see the brand. “You’re not making the decision for me.”
“I meant, okay, I’ll go along with whatever you want.” He reached out toward my arm, turning me back to face him. Gently, he took the chips out of my hand and replaced them on the wire shelf. “But I don’t think this is something you should do alone. You’ve just lost your husband, found out about an entire secret existence he had, and whether you think so or not, you are still emotionally vulnerable. You need someone in your corner, Penny, before you go to Annie’s house.”
His words touched that vulnerable spot in me again. I softened, catching his gaze. “And why should that someone be you?”
He reached up, as if he was going to touch my face, then lowered his hand, changing his mind. Disappointment hit me square in the chest. “I care about you and if the circumstances were different, I’d be asking you out on a date, maybe dinner, in a restaurant this time,” he said, grinning, “and afterward, to a movie or drinks and dancing in a little bar with pool tables and a live singer who can do a really good Barry White. I’d be doing that, instead of asking if I can tag along while you meet a woman who might be your husband’s third wife.”
“Asking me to…dinner? Dancing? Drinks?” I stared at him, so taken aback the words weren’t registering. This wasn’t just playing around the issue of him being interested, this was out and out flirting.
Matt took a step forward, his eyes locking with mine,
leaving no doubt that he meant every word he spoke. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are a beautiful, intelligent and spirited woman. Any man in his right mind would want you.”
I turned away, staring at the glass-walled rainbow of soda selections, anything but him. Right now, there was enough on my plate without adding in feelings for Matt. But they lodged there, all the same, wanting both to pull him closer and push him away. “Well, the circumstances aren’t different. And one man in his right mind
didn’t
want me.”
“Don’t,” he said, ignoring a trio of people who headed down the aisle and split like a wave around us. Matt put a finger under my chin and turned my face back toward his. “Don’t let what Dave did ruin you. Don’t let it keep you from ever caring about another man again. I liked Dave, don’t get me wrong, but if he was here right now, I’d slug him for what he’s done to you.”
My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again, but no sounds came out.
“And if you weren’t a grieving widow,” Matt went on, his voice and his gaze intense and true, “I’d kiss you. Because I happen to think you are more than enough woman for one man. Anyone who’d do what Dave did to his marriage, to you, has to be crazy.”
“You…you want to kiss me?” I stared at him, dumbfounded. When was the last time a man had wanted to kiss me?
And when was the last time Dave had done more than given me the perfunctory goodbye buss on the cheek? Want curled inside me, taking up residence in a place that had been empty for a long time. Want, not just for a kiss, but for Matt.
“Yeah.” The word had a gruff, hungry element and it set my breath on edge.
“Okay,” I said, drawing in a little oxygen before moving a half step closer to him, wanting this, wanting him, wanting something for myself for now. “Kiss me.”
Matt met my gaze for one long, heated second, then reached up with both his hands, cupping the tender skin along the nape of my neck, drawing my mouth closer to his. He lowered his lips to mine, drifting along them at first, then, when I parted them, he deepened his kiss, playing jazz against a mouth that had, for far too long, been listening to soft rock.
Guilt washed over me, then just as quickly washed away. Dave was gone, and had been gone, technically, for a really long time. I was under no obligation to remain true to a man who hadn’t been true to me.
I wrapped my arms around Matt, the foreign feel of another man’s body beneath my palms sending an odd curling sensation through my gut. Muscles rippled beneath my touch, flexing as he moved to take me closer into his embrace. When my pelvis bumped against his, want exploded in my brain as fast and furious as a bomb.
I pulled back, out of his arms, out of the sticky situation I’d just invited into my life, suddenly aware of the dozens of people making their way in and out of the convenience store, walking around and past us as if our public display of affection were merely another offering in the store’s vast snack selection.
“I’m not going to say that shouldn’t have happened,” Matt said, heat burning in his deep green eyes, “because as much as I know I should, I don’t feel at all guilty about kissing you.”
“Neither do I.” The realization flooded me with a new set of emotions, a confusing jumble of guilt that I was still married, or should at least still feel married, and a curious blend of desire.
“You are an incredible woman,” Matt said, brushing a lock of hair off my face and, in that one tender gesture, making me want to cry. “And when you’re ready, and if you want, I’d like to pursue this path. See where it goes.” He grinned, lightening the mood. “Take you out for some karaoke and see if you can sing like Mariah.”
I swallowed. The thought of the future, of anything beyond this day and this minute, still seemed to loom over me, too big a thing to grasp.