The Husband Diet (A Romantic Comedy) (24 page)

Chapter 34:

Carpe Diem

M
orning caught me unprepared. I opened my eyes to find myself on the sofa—in Julian’s arms under a throw, his lips against my temple, his body hot against mine. Would I never tire of this man?

“Morning, my queen,” he murmured and I shifted so I was straddling him. Ooh, that felt nice.

“Morning, your own highness,” I whispered with a giggle. “Or shall I say your hardness?”

“Kids are fast asleep,” he informed me, kissing my lips. Good thing I never had morning breath, and neither did he. “Come here,” he rasped as he grabbed my hips and placed me on his—

“Ah...” I moaned. “That’s—that’s
good
...”

“Perfect fit...” he moaned back as he removed our clothes under the throw, his mouth bending to my bare breasts, and I gripped his shoulders. And we took each other home in record time. Fast (that was a first), hard, urgent. I loved it. I loved any way we did it.

“Mommy?” came Maddy’s voice from somewhere at the back of my consciousness. I turned and threw on my jeans and T-shirt before she made it downstairs. That had been close. The kid was already scarred for life—the last thing she needed to see was her mommy buck naked lying on the sofa with her principal.

“Yes, sweetie?” I whispered.

“Warren’s wet his bed,” she whispered back.

I crept up into Warren’s room and halted on the threshold. He had already removed the sheets, his eyes lowered.

“Hey, Warren, I’m changing the bed sheets today. I’ve already got mine and Maddy’s. Can I have yours, too?”

He nodded, still not looking at me. I felt for the little fella.

Julian appeared at the bottom of the stairs, fully dressed. “Hey, champ, want to come down and shoot a few hoops?”

Warren shot to his feet gratefully. “Coming!” he called, then turned to me, his eyes pleading. “Please don’t tell him.”

I crossed my heart and took the sheets from him.

“Thanks, Mom.”

I looked out his window and watched him and Julian play, wondering what to do. But I knew he’d be fine. Thanks to some time with a fine man.

* * *

After the game I invited Julian to stay for lunch.

“What did you say to him?” I asked when we were alone.

“That it happened to me, too.”

“Did it really, or were you just trying to make him feel better?”

“I wish. It happened when I was thirteen. I’d just discovered I’d been adopted.”

“Oh, right.”

“It’s no big deal,” Julian said. “My adoptive parents have always loved me like their own.”

“As if anyone could
not
love you,” I whispered and he grinned.

“Plus I have you, and you’re all that a bloke could ever want.”

Thinking that someone had abandoned him only made me realize how strong Julian was, and how much more I still needed to learn about this magnificent man.

* * *

I don’t know when I fell asleep again, but the next thing I was aware of was the last rays of the day streaming across my face and the joyous laughter of the kids. I’d never slept for so long in my life.

I rubbed my face and padded into the kitchen and peered out the window over my (still flourishing, by the way) succulents. There, in the back garden, Julian and Warren were rolling around in the sandpit, pure glee on their faces, while Maddy was perched daintily on the edge, clapping her hands in delight.

As I watched, Julian stood up, and tons of sand spilled from his pockets and pant legs.

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and the cobwebs out of my brain, the night before coming back to me with a vengeance, with the horror of Ira’s violence, the hatred in his eyes as he begged me to take him back. It hadn’t been a bad dream, but it still didn’t make sense. Until I factored in the money aspect. He was not only hoping to bring me back round to him, but also banking on squeezing some more dough out of me.

In all probability, Ira’s business most likely really had been sinking, only he gave priority to Maxine’s needs. Whenever I’d asked him about Tech.Com, he’d sighed and said, “I’ll take care of it.” Which he hadn’t, obviously. Now I understood what had made him crack—not the fact that he missed us, but the fact that he needed money and he needed it fast. You don’t screw around with the IRS.

Yes, it was really time to go. I’d sell the house and invest the money in a smaller farmhouse I could afford, and do it up little by little. There was no way Ira’d get joint custody now, and in a sense I was doing him a favor. He’d never really wanted the burden of having children. I wrapped my sweater around me. Outside it was still cold, but it was nothing compared to the icy fingers gripping my heart.

Now I had to look out for the light at the end of the tunnel. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

That night after Julian left, I couldn’t fall asleep so I dialed Paul’s cell phone.

“Sunshine,” Paul said softly, “Things aren’t going to get better if you stay up all night.”

“I know, but everything is such a mess,” I sobbed, then sniffed. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Because you’re the only fool who would be up at this ungodly hour? Besides, I have caller ID, silly, remember?”

“Right,” I said as I dashed the back of my hand into my eye. “I forgot.”

“So what’s up?”

“I’m so, so tired of all this. I just want to go now. I’m still looking for a place in Tuscany, possibly near your place.”

“Tell you what. I’ll ring up my good friend Roberto Luzzi again and give him a kick up the ass, okay?”

I swallowed. “Okay. Not too expensive. I don’t have a big budget.”

“Just send me an email with your specifics and I’ll forward it to him. Okay?”

“Okay,” I answered.

“Have you told Julian you want to go?”

I sighed. Never more than a step behind me, my Paulie. “Not yet—but I will.”

He sighed. “The guy’s crazy for you. He’s got a right to know.”

“But what if it doesn’t last? What if he really just suffers from Superman syndrome and he gets bored with me? And with the kids?” I whispered, feeling sad and grateful and hopeful at the same time. I was so afraid to let myself go to someone and ruin it all over again. But in my heart I knew Julian would never ever turn his back on his woman. Could I be his woman? His woman for real? I needed to know.

“Honey, he’s friggin’ perfect for you! And, Christ, even if he wasn’t, have you seen that bod? Aren’t those pecs alone worth the risk?”

I smiled and swiped at a tear. Julian
was
worth the risk.

“Don’t waste any more time, Erica. Nab him now, before somebody else does.” He yawned. “Now go get some shuteye. You’ve got a long day ahead of you and I need my beauty sleep.”

I smiled into my phone. “Okay,” I answered. “See you tomorrow?”

“You betcha, baby,” he said and made kissing noises. “Now get off the phone and go to bed!”

I hung up. Bless his soul.

Chapter 35:

Seduction / Abduction

M
arch melted into April, defined by T.S. Eliot as “The cruelest month.” I guess he must have known what April had in store for us. And still I hadn’t told Julian, my excuse being I wanted the relationship to grow a little more before I sprung this on him. I wanted to have some sort of history behind us before I blew us to smithereens.

“Erica, Maxine Moore on the phone for you on line two,” Jackie informed me.

Jesus, not bloody Pristine Maxine again? I hadn’t seen her since the supermarket episode. “Tell her she can go to hell.”

“She says it’s urgent.”

“Just hang up on her, Jackie.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Here, give me the phone, then,” I snapped and clicked it shut.

As soon as I disconnected, Jackie said, “Erica, your principal on line three.”

“He’s not my principal,” I muttered as I reached for the phone, but something very warm washed over me, making me feel real good. Now
he
was someone I’d gladly talk to anytime.

“Hey, Julian,” I chimed.

“Sweetheart—your cell phone’s off.”

Sweetheart.
That felt even better. Would I ever get used to it? “Oh. I’m sorry. What’s up?”

“Ira came to the school this morning.”

“Oh, my God. Did he make a scene?”

I heard him hesitate.

“No, he wasn’t looking for me. He told one of the secretaries he was taking Maddy to her dentist’s appointment. They let her go with him.”

I sat up, my heart in my mouth. “I’m on my way.”

“You’ll find me at the police station near the school.”

* * *

“Where is she? Where is she?” I couldn’t help crying as I exploded through the front doors of the police station and into the hall where Julian was waiting for me with a policeman.

“Erica, this is Detective Petersen. He’s dealing with Maddy’s—”

“Abduction?” I whispered in a broken voice. On the way over, I’d dialed Ira’s cell phone a million times in vain. Oh, my sweet, sweet little girl!

The detective led us into a private room where he sat us down, explaining that because the abductor was a parent it would be more difficult to trace them, and was I absolutely sure that my husband understood he had to check decisions with me first?

“Yes, yes!” I practically screamed. “He was never interested in seeing them!”

“Ma’am, can you give us a picture of your ex-husband and your daughter and a description of his car?”

With shaky hands I fished in my wallet and retrieved a copy of the picture we had all taken on Christmas Eve, minutes before he abandoned them.

“Uhm, a blue Ford. Boston plates—AB17-2427,” I informed him, imagining the police swooping down on him with a helicopter and shooting him on sight. Never too soon for me. I didn’t care if one day he really did bludgeon me with his baseball bat, but my kids were sacred. When I got my hands on him…

“I’m going to kill him, Julian,” I rasped as the detective went to answer a phone call in the next room.

“That won’t be necessary, Erica. A warrant has been issued for his arrest. We’re talking abduction here. I could kill Miss Simpson. She knew she wasn’t allowed to release either of the kids to anyone but you.”

I wanted to kill Miss Simpson, too, because her stupidity was limitless. “What if he tries to get Warren as well?”

Julian frowned. “And risk going all the way up to the camp site? I doubt it, Erica. Have you blocked the airports?” he asked the returning detective.

“Yes, but it’s difficult to determine where they may be headed.

“Colorado!” I cried and they looked at me. “He might try to get to his parents’ summer lodge!”

“All right,” the detective said. “Call your in-laws and alert them.”

I did as he asked but no one was home so I left a message and sank into my chair, my mind mush and my body liquefied with fear.
Maddy!
Where could Ira have taken her? And what was going through his deviously twisted mind? He didn’t know anything about her—her tastes, her interests—nothing! And she’d be petrified.

It seemed impossible, but it was true. Ira was doing this just to make me suffer for God knows what sins I’d committed against him. I’d always been a patient, loving wife. How could he do this to me? To Maddy? And how the hell was I going to break it to Warren?

“Anywhere else he could be?” Julian asked me, and I shook my head.

“Ira doesn’t have any friends. He spends all his time at his office.”
With his secretary.

When we were free to go, Julian took me down to Tech.Com, just north of the highway. There was only one car in the private parking lot—the janitor’s.

“Where’s Mr. Lowenstein?” I demanded of him in my brisk business manner, to avoid falling apart.

“He left a couple of hours ago,” the man shrugged as he continued to mop the floor, and I remembered when I used to clean Ira’s offices for him. And do his bookkeeping. “Where’s Maxine?”

“You mean his wife, Mrs. Lowenstein? They left together.”

I felt a tingling, odd sensation at the back of my head, like someone was creeping up from behind me. Julian glanced at me.

“Why are you here so early?” I asked him. “It’s only four thirty.”

Again he shrugged. “I’ve been coming at this time for a year. When everybody’s gone.”

I felt the blood drain from my face as I tripped out of the office and into the parking lot to vomit on the tarmac. A year. They’d been together for a year. And instead of coming home to his family, he’d gone home with
her
. Spending at least eight hours per evening there.
On top
of the entire day. Ira didn’t have just a mistress. He had been leading a double life.

Julian caught up with me and held my hair away from my face as I puked.

“No—go away,” I sobbed, pushing him away, but he didn’t move.

I straightened up and dashed my hand over my drenched eyes with a moan. A year. One whole year of sleeping with his secretary. No wonder he came back in the wee hours. No wonder he’d always left his dinners half-eaten. No wonder he’d built a barricade in our bed and avoided turning in for the night when I did. It was easier to pretend to be asleep, easier to use the same excuse every single night, or, as he had done, to give no excuse at all, besides the fact that I made him sick.

“Think, Erica,” Julian said. “Where could they have gone? Where does she live?”

“How the hell would I know?” I snapped.

“Okay, what’s her surname?”

I sighed heavily.
Pristine Maxine.
“Maxine Moore.”

Julian’s face lit up as he pulled his cell phone out. “Wait—I think I still have her number from when she called me.” He dialed and waited. “Her phone’s off. Let me call Detective Peterson… Detective? Julian Foxham here. Can you please find out where his secretary, Maxine Moore, lives? Call me back? Okay, thank you.”

His phone clicked shut. “I need some caffeine—let’s go.”

* * *

We stopped at Starbucks for a cup of coffee and something to eat, but for the first time in my life I couldn’t swallow a bite.
Oh, Maddy! Where are you, baby?
I looked down into my coffee cup, watching it swirl slowly as Julian stirred it for me.

“I wish this was Ira’s
blood
,” I rasped, murderous feelings rising again. They had never left me, only subsided because of the shock. How could he do this to her?

“All this time,” I groaned. “All this time he’s ignored his children to spend time with some homewrecker slut in stilettos and no panties.”

Julian put his hand on mine, and I looked up into his eyes as his phone rang. He listened as he took money out of his wallet to pay. Then he clicked his phone shut.

“He’s got her address,” he said and I shot to my feet.

* * *

Maxine Moore lived on the seventh floor of a new condo in a nice area overlooking the Harbor Islands. As expected, no one answered the door so the detective used the search warrant he’d obtained in record time, and pushed his way in. My heart was in my mouth as we rode up in the elevator, Julian opposite me. The detective and his men had taken the previous one. I looked up at him, and he squeezed my hand and kissed my forehead. He opened his mouth to say something, but the doors pinged open and we jumped out and into Maxine’s empty apartment, and I stupidly catapulted myself, calling Maddy’s name.

The apartment echoed with its emptiness and I felt the walls closing in on me. I ran to the bathroom and hurled again. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I going bananas along with Ira? Would social services take the kids away from us both?

After I’d finished and rinsed my face, I caught sight of a stack of baseball magazines on the side of the toilet and the bathtub. Old habits die hard.

Hanging on the wall was a picture of her and Ira, happy and in love on a beach. She was wearing Ira’s New Jersey University shirt. I recognized it because it bore an ink stain I hadn’t been able to remove. So
that
was where it had gone.

Steadying myself, I opened the medicine cabinet. There was a bottle of prescription vitamins, B9, to be exact—folacin, or folic acid. I had taken them as well. When I was pregnant.

And then I saw a file on the bathroom counter. She must have forgotten it in her haste to leave. It was the complete file of her pregnancy. This was her first. She was eight months along.

I sat down on the edge of the tub next to Ira’s magazines and held my head. Eight months! For eight months and more he hadn’t loved me. He had loved someone else. Fathered another
child
.

On shaky legs I returned to the living room, where Julian was waiting for me. “Are you all right?” he asked.

I shook my head and handed him the folder. He went pale as he read.

I opened the front door to leave Maxine’s apartment, wanting to throw myself off her balcony instead.

“Tell the detective to call his men off the airports. She won’t be flying,” I said over my shoulder on my way out, but he followed me into the corridor, where I did what I had become an expert at lately. Sink my face into Julian’s chest and bawl.

Ira didn’t even love his
own
family, and he was starting another one? You can do that with your
knitting
, or a bad book because it’s not good enough to hold your interest, because it bores you. You can put it down and start something new. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you couldn’t put a
family
away in the drawer when you tired of it.

“Mrs. Lowenstein?” came Detective Petersen’s voice.

I turned to see him holding another file folder and beckoning us in again.

“Were you aware of any family funds missing from your joint account?” he asked softly.

I shook my head. “No.”

Detective Petersen leafed through the folder he had found and nodded apologetically. “There’s a record here of one hundred thousand dollars paid by Mr. Lowenstein in person—as a down payment for this apartment.”

And suddenly I remembered my sister-in-law Sandra, who went to the same gym as Maxine, telling me that she had moved into a nice condo. I remembered thinking,
how the heck does a secretary manage to afford that?
Shit. Mega-double shit. I had been such a blind idiot. The truth had been screaming at me in the face, and I just hadn’t understood. Ira had squandered most of his own earnings on
her
.

I walked back to Julian’s jeep, not feeling my legs, as if I was drunk, not feeling my body, or seeing my surroundings, as if I was dead. Ira had stolen my money—money that my
Nonna
Silvia had made sacrifices to give to me for my future. Money which I had kept for my children’s college funds. Not only had he ruined my whole goddamn life, he’d taken from his children, which shouldn’t have surprised me. And yet I couldn’t believe the man I’d married had managed to hate me so much to do this to me. If I could have pushed a button to make him disappear from the face of the earth, I would’ve.