admit he knew by heart. Even at that early hour he was not sur-
prised when somebody picked up.
“Sensations,” a pleasant and familiar female voice answered,
her tones sounding intimate and affecting even on the speaker-
phone.
“Good morning, Stacy. This is Eric Smith.”
“Well, good morning, Mr. Smith. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to set up a meeting for this afternoon, if possible.”
“Certainly, sir. Will that be with your usual contact?”
“If she’s available, that would be great.”
“She is. At your regular conference area?”
“Please.”
“What time works for you, sir?”
“Two?”
“Two it is. Shall I use the card on file?”
“That’s fine. Thank you very much.”
“Thank you, Mr. Smith. Enjoy your meeting.”
He pressed the button to disconnect the call. He simulta-
neously felt guilt at his own dishonesty and thrilling excitement at
his impending “meeting.” The thought of the small, shapely,
blonde—so physically like Jennifer, but willing to do so much
more—writhing beneath him and calling his name aroused him to
the point where it was almost painful. He stepped on the gas and
zipped past an eighteen-wheeler, the speed only adding to his exhil-
aration.
* * *
The morning was beautiful and clear on the lake and Jennifer
62 Georgia Beers
took her tea out onto the deck to breathe in the clean air and listen
to the lapping of the water. The air was a bit cool, but the sound
was calming and she let it wash over her, taking some of her stress
and worries with it.
Eric had been up, showered, dressed, and on his way to work
very early. He’d been distant and quiet all through the breakfast
she’d fixed him. The Eric she’d seen the night before had vanished,
just as she’d suspected he would.
She refused to dwell on the growing problems in her marriage,
though in reality, she knew she should have concentrated on them
more. Avoidance was the absolute wrong way to handle a dilemma,
but that’s what she’d always done. This is too hard to deal with, so I
just…won’t. Somehow, the fact that she knew that’s what she did,
didn’t seem to help or make her attempt to change things and she
was often frustrated by her own pigheadedness.
She had always found that the best way to avoid a problem was
to focus on something completely different. So, that morning, she
contemplated her house, the one thing in her life that she was happy
with, the one thing bringing her any sort of pleasure. She went
inside and decided her next project would be the master bedroom.
Hell, she thought. If I’m going to spend most of my time in it alone,
I can at least decorate it so it suits me.
As was her modus operandi, she pulled up a chair and sat in
the doorway, simply studying the room, getting a feel for the size,
the scope, the possibilities…trying to envision what she’d like it to
be, how she’d like it to look from the doorway—the place anybody
would be standing when they saw it for the first time. It was a large
rectangle with a master bath off to the left. That room, having been
recently remodeled, was in fantastic shape and—much to Jennifer’s
delighted surprise—didn’t need any help from her. Its Jacuzzi bath-
tub and white, ceramic tile floors were precisely what she would
have picked. The bedroom itself, however, was very bland: off-white
walls, off-white molding, and off-white mini-blinds. The hardwood
floor was the only saving grace, the only thing that held any charac-
ter. Jennifer had already decided that she liked the idea of varying
shades of purple and she’d used it as an accent color in the bath-
room. She was fond of the concept of carrying that into the bed-
room to tie the two rooms together, so she examined the space
carefully, envisioning what she thought might work and tossing
away ideas that didn’t quite seem to fit.
As she sat there, she remembered seeing a room she’d fallen in
love with in one of the many design and home improvement maga-
zines she’d become addicted to. She jumped up and ran downstairs,
opened the bottom cabinets of a shelf in the living room and
groaned at what had to be twenty-five or thirty various magazines.
Thy Neighbor’s Wife 63
She pulled them all out, situated herself on the floor, and flipped
through page after page until she yelped with relief, finally finding
the one she was looking for.
She glanced at the clock, then did a double take. She was
utterly shocked to realize that two and a half hours had gone by
since she’d started her search. Her legs shrieked at her when she
uncurled them from beneath her and stood up from the floor. She
carefully marked the correct page in the magazine and cursed her-
self for not doing so the first time. She stretched slowly, allowing
the blood to reintroduce itself to her deprived limbs. With a now
clear picture in her head of the way she wanted the bedroom to
look, she stepped out onto the deck to get some fresh air.
It was still clear, but the temperature had risen considerably
and the sun beat warmly down on her hair. She could see three
boats drifting lazily on the water, fishing rods protruding into the
air. She leaned her forearms onto the railing of the deck and
watched them rock gently on the easy waves, letting the peace of the
lake embrace her.
The quiet was interrupted by the clang of metal coming from
her right. She glanced in that direction and saw Alex, standing with
her hands on her hips, surveying a pile of supplies she’d dumped on
the ground at her feet next to her garage. Jennifer watched her for
several minutes as she looked at the pile, then up at the blank side
of the garage, then down, then back up again. She went inside, but
reappeared several minutes later with a toolbox and a large ham-
mer. Jennifer smiled as her curiosity got the better of her.
“Building an addition?” she called with a wry grin.
Alex turned, then smiled, happy to see Jennifer. “Yup. I’ve
decided to fulfill my life-long dream of being a landlady, so I’m
adding an apartment.”
“Need some help?” Jennifer asked hopefully as she
approached.
“Four hands are better than two, or so I’ve been told.”
“I’ve heard the same thing. What kind of apartment are we
making?” She looked at the pile, which consisted of six large steel
stakes and a sizable roll of wire fencing, all green.
“The fenced-in kind. I took your advice and I’ve decided to
make a sort of run for Kinsey. Like a kennel, but a bit bigger, sort of
like his own miniature play area. This way, he can be outside all
damn day if he wants and I won’t have to worry about finding his
squished little body on the roadside.”
“And how does he feel about this kennel thing?” Jennifer
teased.
“Well, you see, that’s the beauty of this relationship. I’m the
human and therefore, the boss. He has no say and he knows it.”
64 Georgia Beers
The kennel was by no means going to be anything extravagant.
The equipment Alex had chosen was akin the items she’d purchase
if she was looking to fence in a garden or protect a large bush. With
Kinsey’s small size, though, and short, stubby legs, she knew it
would be perfect. She just needed something to contain him, some-
thing tall enough that he couldn’t jump over it, and something
sturdy enough that he couldn’t knock it down by jumping against it.
The fencing she’d picked was just right and she felt good about it.
Both women were surprised by how well they worked together,
especially Jennifer. She thought about how she and Eric rarely did
projects together around the house because they never seemed to be
on the same wavelength. He was never able to see her vision of
things and she was frustrated by his overly perfectionist ways of
operating. They usually ended up at each other’s throats, so they’d
decided to avoid such pairings all together. Jennifer did the decorat-
ing, Eric did the repair work, and it seemed to be the right solution.
Things were different with Alex, though. It was like they only
had one mind. She handed Alex tools before she asked for them,
Alex nodded in agreement before Jennifer even finished her sugges-
tions. Because of the lack of conflict, the sense of accomplishment
seemed that much stronger when they finally stood straight and sur-
veyed the finished product.
“Not bad, Ms. Foster. Not bad at all.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Mrs. Wainwright. Nice
work. And thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Shall we introduce the king to his new castle?”
“Absolutely.”
Alex went in to fetch Kinsey, who eyed the fence warily. They
had even constructed a primitive gate for easy access, but since the
fence was only four feet high, Alex simply bent over it and set him
in. He wandered around a little bit, sniffing the ground and lifting
his leg on several of the stakes, reluctantly marking them as his.
After three or four minutes, he sat directly in the middle of the area,
facing the women, and simply stared at his owner. Alex pressed her
lips together with worry and Jennifer had to stifle a laugh.
“Oh, he is not happy with me. Not happy at all.”
“You think?” Jennifer teased.
“See how his ears are back and he’s looking at me, but not
really? Like I don’t deserve a full stare? That’s how I can tell. Those
are sure signs.”
Jennifer was grinning at Alex’s obvious distress. “Sure signs of
what?”
“He’s pissed at me.”
Jennifer pressed her finger to her lips, the laughter threatening
Thy Neighbor’s Wife 65
to burst forth, and just nodded. Alex picked up the nod and they
stood there like a couple of bobble-heads, nodding away.
“Oh, yeah. He’s annoyed.” Alex turned to Jennifer, cocking an
eyebrow at the expression on her face. “Are you laughing at me?”
The tone of her voice was light; she was well aware of the humor of
the situation.
“You know,” Jennifer responded in the most matter-of-fact
voice she could manage, “I’ve heard of a person being pussy-
whipped, but the idea of being poochy-whipped is a totally new
concept for me.”
Alex stood quietly for several seconds, simply blinking at her
friend. When she finally did speak, she tried hard for “low and
menacing.” Instead, it came out more like “trying hard not to burst
into hysterical laughter.” “Are you saying I’m ruled by my dog?”
“Well, let me think for a minute.” Jennifer tapped a finger
against her lips, looking up into the sky. “Um, yeah. I’d say that’s
exactly what I think.”
Alex dropped her head, shaking it shamefully, her voice a
mock-sob. “It’s true! It’s true! My dog is my life. I am a pathetic
human being. Please shoot me now.”
They both broke into laughter. Kinsey was obviously not
amused, as he continued to stare at them, only serving to make
them laugh harder. Once they had collected themselves, they took a
closer look at the kennel, just to make sure it didn’t need any final
adjustments.
“Hm. I’m not sure I like this.” Alex was near the garage wall
where she had driven a stake into the ground. It was about an inch
and a half away, leaving a space between the stake and the wall. “I
got this as close as I could, but I’m afraid if he decided to work at
it, he could worm his way through here. He’s pretty smart.”
“I bet they make some sort of bracket thingie for that,” Jennifer
offered. “You know what I mean? Like a horseshoe-shaped piece of
wire or something that will pull the stake closer and close up that
space.”
Alex nodded as the item Jennifer described became clear in her
mind. “I think a trip to Chase-Pitkin is in order. Care to join me?”
Chapter
Eight
Chase-Pitkin was Rochester’s local version of Home Depot.
There was one in almost every suburb and they housed everything
from lumber and gardening equipment to furniture and birdseed.
They had definitely felt the pinch since Home Depot had arrived in
the area a few years before, but much to the surprise of many peo-
ple, Chase- Pitkin managed to hold its own and stay in business.
Despite the fact that Home Depot was a nationwide chain and
thereby had some better pricing on many items, Chase Pitkin
employed hundreds of local people, and Alex tried to give them her
support whenever she could.
Having Jennifer along for the ride was a pleasant surprise.
When Alex woke up that morning and decided to build a kennel for
Kinsey, she hadn’t expected to have help or company—and cer-
tainly not such charming company. She realized that the more time
she spent with Jennifer, the more time she wanted to spend with
her. She was funny and clever and amusing and Alex hadn’t enjoyed
just simply being with somebody in a long, long time. The only per-
son who came close was Jackie and they’d been best friends for
more than ten years. Alex got a happy little tingle when she thought
of being such great friends with Jennifer, too.