The Candidate's Affair (4 page)

I clicked on one of the articles. He had a law degree from Emory. There was a picture of his wife. She had dark chin-length hair. I clicked on the link.

Sarah Tanner died at age 27. Her car was found in a ditch on a country road in South Carolina. The investigation suggested she had fallen asleep at the wheel and died when her car hit a tree.

I shuddered. It must have been horrible for him. I tried to imagine the handsome candidate mourning his young wife. I thought about what life would be like if something happened to Spence.

I scanned the article for anything else I could find on my new neighbor. He had graduated magna cum laude from the Citadel and played football all four years he attended. His parents ran a foundation for children’s homes and supported a celebrity golf classic each year at Kiawah Island.

Everything about him fit the mold for how a politician should be groomed for office. Wealthy, charitable family, stellar athlete with an impeccable academic record, and then there was the beautiful wife who had died too young. I closed my laptop. I didn’t want to see her picture anymore. It was too sad.

My copy of
The Goldfinch
was next to our bed. I had spent the last week speed-reading to get to the end. It was an ambitious goal for our club to read it in a month. I was certain not everyone would finish, but I had marked it off my list at midnight last night.

With the heavy copy tucked under my arm, I headed in the direction of Tina’s house. I enjoyed walking through our neighborhood. The sidewalks were uneven from creeping oak roots. I had spent enough time running on this route to know where to step to avoid the trip spots.

When we first moved into the neighborhood, we were welcomed with brownies, cookies, and every other baked good I could name. It was a neighborhood custom that I wasn’t good at abiding by. Even today, I showed up without a single welcome gift to Paxton’s house. It was an impulsive drop by.

I tapped lightly on Tina’s front door and walked in.

“Audrey!” Tina called.

“Hey, Tina. Expecting a big crowd tonight?”

“I think so. Come on in. I’ll pour a glass of wine for you.”

My hostess busied herself in the kitchen while the neighbors filed in.

“Audrey, was today the last day of school?” Cricket asked.

I clutched my wine. “It was. I hate saying good-bye to my class. It’s the hardest day of the year for me.”

She patted my shoulder. “Honey, you’ve got the entire summer ahead of you. Why don’t you join our bridge group?”

Cricket Sanders had been trying to get me to join her bridge group since our first year here. I never played.

I smiled meekly. “Maybe I could try it.”

“You’ve got to do something to keep you busy while Spencer is working. Will he make partner this year? That’s the rumor I’ve heard.”

“We hope so. He’s been working nonstop. This might be the year.”

Spencer and I knew when he made partner it would change things for us, and not just financially. We were still considered the new kids on the block. It didn’t matter that we both had degrees, established careers, a home, and a dog. We were mere children in our neighbors’ eyes. Making partner would catapult Spence into a different class. We would never be old money, but it was a distinct rung on the ladder he was about to cross. I wasn’t sure we were ready for that shift.

Cricket patted my shoulder. “Let me know about bridge. I’ve got an open spot. And who knows, if he makes partner, you could have a permanent place.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She looked puzzled. “You won’t need to work anymore. You’ll need to have afternoons free. You can’t fulfill your obligations if you’re teaching.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. I turned to the wine in my hand.

Fifteen minutes later, Tina’s kitchen was full. I smiled and hugged the women I called friends. I hadn’t heard anyone mention the book yet. It also felt as if we saved our best book comments for the formal round circle.

Tina clinked her wineglass. “Ladies, let’s get started. I can pull in some more chairs if we need them.”

I decided I would sit as far from Cricket as I could during the book discussion. Her words still crawled on my skin. I didn’t want to give up teaching.

One by one, the seats around me filled in.

Mrs. Ellerby sat on the couch. “I haven’t seen you since last book club. What’s new with you?” she asked.

“Today was the last day of school. I’ve been getting ready for that. Not much else is new.”

“How about Spencer? Things going well for him?”

“Yes. He’s working hard at the firm.” I didn’t know if Mrs. Ellerby would bestow some sort of sage advice on how I needed to leave my job. Hearing it once tonight was enough.

“Would you thank him for helping me with those plants last week? I never would have been able to get them out of the car.” She sighed. “It’s a terrible thing getting old.”

“He was happy to do it,” I offered.

Spencer and I were working in the yard when we saw Mrs. Ellerby pull into her driveway, her head hidden by green leaves. Her driveway was directly across the street from ours.

“I’m going to go see if she needs help with those,” he said.

“All right.” I turned to the gardenia bush I was pruning. Fifteen minutes later, Spence was back.

“She bought a ton of new houseplants.”

“Does she need help with anything else?”

“No, I got them all inside. I think she just likes to come up with projects to keep herself busy,” he suggested.

“Why would you say that?” I pulled the garden gloves from my hands. The gardenia bush looked slightly lighter, but I was happy with my trimming work.

“Because, her house is like a jungle. There are plants everywhere. One day she might wake up with vines all over her.” He laughed.

“It was nice of you to help.” I smiled at my sweaty and handsome husband.

“I feel bad she lives by herself. No one to talk to. No one to eat dinner with. She needs help with every little thing. It’s depressing. Can you imagine being all alone at the end of your life?”

“No. No, I can’t. But that won’t be us. We don’t have to worry about anything like that. We’re going to grow old together and die in our sleep like in that movie. You know which one I’m talking about?”

“How do you know, Audrey? We take too many things for granted sometimes. This isn’t a movie. And that was
The Notebook
.”

I pivoted, making little ruts in the flowerbed with my sneakers. “Spence, cut it out. You’re sounding morbid.”

“Do we even know what happened to her husband?”

I folded my gloves and tossed them in the bucket with the clippers. “He died before we moved in. I have no idea. I think someone said heart attack.” I stopped to think for a minute. Had anyone actually told me how Mr. Ellerby died, or was I guessing?

The room grew quiet and I noticed all heads had turned.

“Excuse me, ladies. Am I in the right place? Tina Lyons?”

Tina knocked over her wineglass. “Good lord, I’m a klutz.” She hopped from her seat. “I’m sorry. I’m Tina. Are you looking for someone?” Her head pivoted around the circle like a water sprinkler.

I stood. “Tina, I’m sorry. I forgot to mention I invited my new neighbor to book club. I meant to say something.” I walked toward Paxton. “This is Paxton Tanner. He just moved in next door to us.”

He held up a copy of
The Goldfinch
. “Hope it’s ok if I join your discussion tonight. I came armed with the book. Took me a little while to find it. I’m still unpacking the house.”

The hushed murmurs circled the room. I couldn’t hear a single comment. They were all at once.

Tina’s hand rested on his arm. “Of course. You will be the first man we’ve ever had at book club. Are you subbing for you wife, Mr. Tanner? We would love to meet her too. Maybe she can make the next one.”

I noticed how he covered Tina’s hand with his palm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Actually, my wife passed away a few years ago. I’m here on my own.”

“Oh my. How awful.” Tina looked as if she could spout tears.

“Thank you.” Paxton was good at this. I could tell he had been used to women reacting this way. I didn’t catch it on his front porch.

Cricket shoved a glass of wine in his hand. “Hi, I’m Cricket. I live right down the street from you. I can’t believe I haven’t been down to see you yet.” She looked as astonished as she sounded.

“Thank you. How did you know I was a white wine drinker?”

“Instinct, I guess.” Cricket brushed her bangs from her eyes, making the bangles on her wrist jingle. I wondered what Johnny would think if he saw her flirting openly in front of the entire group.

“Why don’t you sit over there since you and Audrey are already acquainted?” Tina pointed to the seat next to me.

Paxton smiled and took a seat. “Looks good to me.”

I shot him half a grin. When we were standing on his porch and I mentioned book club, it didn’t seem like a monumental event, but now sitting next to him with all eyes gawking at his chiseled and foreign physique, I disagreed. This was huge. I had created a moment in our book club’s history.

“All right.” Tina waited for the excitement to settle. “Let’s welcome Paxton here. Wouldn’t it be a hoot if we had name tags tonight?” Tina was the type who wasn’t embarrassed about laughing at her own jokes.

“Don’t let me change up what you do here. I’m really here to say hello. I don’t have much of a social life outside of work,” Paxton added.

“Wait. I know who you are,” Lindsey Miller blurted out. “You’re running for the state senate.” She said it with authority, as if she had cracked a case.

Paxton took the accusation calmly. “You caught me.”

“I knew you looked familiar.” Lindsey couldn’t stop. “I read a piece on your family and how they’ve put millions into your campaign.”

“Lindsey, I don’t think this is the place—” Tina looked embarrassed.

He held up a hand, to relax the hostess. “I get that a lot, Tina. It’s fine. I’m open to questions anytime. But, maybe we could start with the book and then talk politics after.” His grin reached from one side of his face to the other. It was picture perfect.

Tina glared at Lindsey. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” She looked annoyed that Tina forced an apology out of her.

“It’s fine.” He sat back in his chair, then toward my ear. “Don’t worry. I still have an hour reserved just for you to convince you to vote for me.”

I straightened my spine and worried someone had seen him whisper to me. It was too familiar. I had known the man only a few hours and it felt too comfortable.

“I have my list of questions here.” Tina rattled the paper in the air. “Ok, who thought Donna Tartt wrote just too many pages?”

The circle groaned. I tried to focus on the book resting in my lap. I drew over the silhouette of the bird with imaginary ink on my fingertip, the discussion picking up around me. All I could feel was Paxton’s stare needling my neck. I didn’t need to turn to know he was watching me.

I opened the front cover and flipped to a page I had marked with a sticky note. I felt his eyes trace the lines on my fingers. His gaze had moved to my arm. I could feel every flinch. Every glimpse. Every time he turned his head. Every time he smiled at a comment.

I fastened my fingers under the edge of the chair and picked it up enough to move it an inch. Another inch away felt safer.

Book club always followed the same format. We gathered, drank, discussed a book, and then spent the next two hours finishing off our hostess’s wine before stumbling home. I poured my third glass, emptying the last of the Moscato.

From the corner of the kitchen, the scene in front of me seemed surreal. I knew all these women, and I had never seen them act like they did in front of Paxton Tanner. He held them captive, spouting funny stories. They all laughed a little louder.

He made a path through the center of the cluster, parking himself next to me at the kitchen island. I felt his hand on the small of my back. It was a friendly gesture, but I thought it hinted at something else.

“You need a refill?”

I stepped a few inches away from him, and his fingers fell from my shirt. “Maybe half a glass.”

He moved around Tina’s kitchen as if this was his one hundredth book club meeting, and uncorked a new bottle of wine. It looked light as a feather in his hands.

“Here you go.” He slid the glass across the counter. “Just for you.”

I watched as he poured a second glass and took a sip. “Lively crowd.” His eyebrows waggled.

“Usually is. This group always has a good time when they get together. But, I think you’ve stolen the show tonight.” My tongue started to feel thick as my fourth glass went down quickly—too quickly.

“Not my intention. I don’t think I realized it was all women.” He shoved a hand in his front pocket. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re last book club was open?”

“You could say it was unconventional.”