The Candidate's Affair (7 page)

T
here was a black dress in the back of my closet Spence always wanted me to wear. I tried to explain to him I couldn’t wear the same dress over and over. Tonight, I put it on without him mentioning it.

I had to tell him. If I didn’t, it would always be there. I told myself it wasn’t a selfish act to confess. I wasn’t just doing it to make myself feel better. Nothing about it felt good. People who said that weren’t in my situation. They didn’t know how it hurt to carry the guilt, how it weighed me down, how I knew it wouldn’t leave until I told him. It would always be between us—a dark, nasty secret.

Spence needed to know the truth.

He had a table reserved for us overlooking the water. The hostess showed us to our seats.

“Here you are. We’ll bring the wine list.” She left us alone.

I fidgeted with the napkin in my lap.

“You know I love that dress on you.” Spence smiled.

I nodded. Even taking a compliment from him made me feel guilty.

The waiter placed a thick leather menu in front of us. “The wine list. I’ll give you two a minute to look it over.”

Spence plucked it up and flipped to the back. “Here it is.”

“What?”

“A surprise. You’ll see in a second.”

I knew the kind of prices attached to the wines in the back of the book. “The last day of school isn’t a real celebration, Spence. We don’t need an expensive bottle of wine.”

“But we do.”

The waiter returned. Spence handed him the menu. “A bottle of the Dom.”

My eyes widened and he smiled at me.

“Spence, I’m serious.”

“I made partner.”

“What?”

“Yep. I found out yesterday, but I didn’t want to ruin your book club night. They offered it to me with everything I wanted in the contract.”

“Oh my God. That’s awesome. It’s amazing.” I walked from around the table and drew my arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you. Really, you deserve it.” I pressed my forehead against his.

“Thank you. I couldn’t have done it if you didn’t support me.”

I loosened my hold on his shoulders, studying the earnestness on his face. “I did nothing.”

“Sure you did. How many wives would be so understanding about the amount of hours I had to put in? This is just as much your celebration as it is mine.”

I shook my head. I almost couldn’t take the way he was praising me, thinking I was a stellar wife.

The waiter returned with the bottle, presented it to Spence, and began the ceremony of uncorking it.

Spence nodded with approval. He raised a glass in the air and laughed. “I’m terrible at toasts. Can we just say ‘to us’?”

“We can.” I sipped slowly, knowing my timing was off. I couldn’t ruin his moment of achievement.

There was never a good time to tell your husband you kissed another man. There was no good way to explain it or ease the certain misery such a revelation would bring. But, this wasn’t the time. He would always associate the night we celebrated his partner news with this twisted, dirty thing I had done.

I smiled through dinner and asked him to explain every detail of the contract. I asked if he would have a new office and if he needed help with the décor. I sipped the champagne, not caring how it made my head spin. We laughed about how expensive it was, and completely out of our price range.

We called a cab at the end of the night, Spence always sensible, knowing neither one of us was fit to drive. I hurried the memories of last night to the farthest recesses of my mind when he peeled his favorite black dress off me in the kitchen. I unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest while he whispered my name. My arms and legs opened for him when he led me to our bed. I cried out as our bodies moved in unison, knowing the other with tender familiarity. No, tonight wasn’t the night to confess.

Four weeks had passed since that night, and I didn’t see Paxton. Not mowing his lawn or getting the mail. Not pulling in the driveway or out for a run. He had become a ghost. Spence mentioned inviting him over for dinner sometime. He thought maybe they could catch a baseball game together, but luckily, he was too busy with his new position at the firm to remember he had even suggested it.

I fell into my usual summer habits, running in the morning, lying by the pool in the afternoon with a book, and making dinner from a recipe I spotted in the latest
Southern Living
.

I gave up trying to talk to Spence about what happened after book club. I didn’t expect the guilt to subside, but it did. Each day I woke up feeling more like myself, not like someone who had been fueled by primitive lust. It really was the wine.

I flipped over in the lounge chair, pushing my book forward so I could see the pages. There was another book club tonight. As usual, I waited until the last minute to cram in the reading. I was glad we had voted on something more romantic for the summer. I ignored the infidelity in the novel. I interpreted it as a love story. I took a sip of water and returned to the book.

“Hey, Audrey.”

I lifted my sunglasses. “Hey, Cricket.”

“Haven’t seen you in weeks. How’s summer vacation going?” She wiggled into the chair next to me.

“Good.” I placed a bookmark in the center of the last chapter. “Just finishing up the book.”

“I read it last week. Loved it!”

“I only have one chapter to go.”

“Don’t worry. No spoiler alerts here.” She threw her hands in the air.

I pretended to laugh.

“Where are the kids?” Cricket had two of the most adorable towheaded children I had ever seen. Despite the way their mother always seemed to irritate me like sandpaper, I loved her kids.

“With the nanny.” She sprayed her arms and legs with sunscreen, then adjusted a wide-brimmed hat above her sunglasses. “Looking forward to book club tonight. Do you think the senator will be there?”

I tried not to react. “Not sure.”

“I know we keep it strictly ladies, but I wouldn’t mind if he showed up again. You know?”

I pretended to concentrate on the book. “Uh-huh.”

“If I weren’t married…” Cricket babbled on about Paxton’s eyes and broad shoulders. I wasn’t the only one who had noticed his eyelashes. I recited the alphabet front and backward, trying to drown out the sound of her voice. “I mean, it’s the saddest thing, him living all alone in that big house. No one to share his campaign with. I’m sure he’ll get elected. What do you think about Senator Hughes?”

“Sure.”

“Haven’t you been following the news?” Cricket spun her legs between our chairs.

“Not really.” The truth was, anytime I saw election coverage, I turned the channel.

“Well, the race is heating up for sure. No one thought that incumbent Hughes had a chance, but I’m starting to think he’s going to give Paxton a fight. But he’s going to win in the end. I know he’ll win. Senator Tanner has a nice ring to it.”

I turned the page, having no idea what I had just read.

“You’re going to vote for him, aren’t you?” Cricket prodded.

I learned when we moved into the neighborhood not to get involved in social discussions. I was ok not sharing the same perspective as my neighbors; that wasn’t it. The people around us didn’t seem as accepting of opposing views, and it wasn’t worth awkward encounters like this one at the pool.

“I don’t know, Cricket.” I rolled onto my back.

“The election is still months away, but he has my vote. It can only be a good thing to have the ear of a state senator. He lives right on our street. He’s your next-door neighbor. I know you’re going to vote for him. You will.”

I started to pack up my pool bag. “I’m going to head home and shower. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Ok. See you then. Tell Spence I said hey.”

“I will.” The pool gate clanked behind me. A family loaded with water noodles ran by as I walked home.

I hadn’t thought Paxton would attend book club tonight. It had to be a one-time deal. After discovering it was a women’s only group, he wouldn’t barge in again. That was what I told myself.

I turned on the shower, ready to rinse off the sunscreen and sweat I had collected all afternoon. My phone rang on the counter.

“Hey.” I held the towel close to my chest.

“I’m on the road.”

“Ok, I’m getting in the shower.”

“Nice. Sorry I’m missing it.”

“Spence,” I teased.

“I’ll call when I get there. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Good luck. I know it’s going to work out. Isn’t that what you always tell me?” The mirror was starting to fog.

“It is. But I don’t know about this one, babe. I’ve only been partner a month and I’m already pitching an acquisition with a group in Columbia. I think I’m out of my league.”

“The other partners obviously don’t think so. You’re perfect for this.”

“If you say so.” His voice was garbled by car noise.

“I do. Now I’ve got to get in the shower before I run out of hot water. Text me when you get to the hotel. I’m at book club tonight and I don’t leave my phone on.”

“Got it. Love you.”

“You too.” I plugged my phone into the charger next to the bed. I didn’t realize I was down to the last ten percent of my battery.

It felt good to wash the sticky sunscreen off. I took a few extra minutes to shave my legs.

July nights in Charleston were almost as bad as July days. There was little chance I would escape the weight of the air. I settled on a sundress, skipping the bra. It was hot—the lighter the layers the better.

Jill liked to host book club outside no matter the temperature. She and Dan had spent thousands last summer to have an outdoor patio and fireplace installed. There was a water feature with spotted koi that bubbled in the garden. Really, it was beautiful. Magazine-worthy even.

I chugged a glass of water and nibbled on some cheese and crackers. It was too hot to eat a full meal. I patted Pepper on the head. “I’ll be back before your bedtime.” I flipped on the weather channel for him. “Keep an eye on the forecast.”

I grabbed my copy of
The Soldier’s Wife
and slipped into my flip-flops. By the time I made it to Jill’s, I would be dotted with perspiration. So would everyone else. I stole a glance over my shoulder when I walked in front of Paxton’s house. There was a light on in his study. Good. He’s in for the night.

I followed the sounds of the party around the side of the house.

“Audrey!” Jill squealed. “So glad you could make it. We were just talking about the new dean appointed at the school. What do you think about him?”

“I haven’t met him. I don’t know.” She ushered me to the patio.

“Well, I picked the wrong year to take a step down from the board. Who knows something about this fella?” She looked at her audience.

“I heard he came from a magnet school in Raleigh.” Tina scrunched her nose. “No one seems to know much about him. Shouldn’t the parents get a say in who runs our school?”

Jill stood with one hand on her hip, the other sloshing the margarita out of her glass. “Parents should. We are paying his salary. That’s why I was on the board for years, but I took one year off. One year. Look what happened.”

“No one could blame you. You’ve got a lot on your plate with your parents. We understand.” Tina patted her on the shoulder.

I knew Jill’s parents weren’t well. They were in their eighties and both suffering from dementia. For a while, she had tried to spend one night a week with them, but they had deteriorated past part-time care. She was spending more time at their house then at her own. I wondered how her children were handling her absence.

Jill turned to me. “Maybe you could stop by the school this week and just give us a heads up on him. Something. I’m going crazy not being involved. Really. It’s rude that no one even consulted me.”

She wanted a response from me. She wanted me to agree and tell her how horrible the board was for not seeking her counsel. But that board paid my salary and the new dean was my boss. I wasn’t going to step on that land mine.

“I’m just going to grab something to drink. I’ll be right back.” I scooted between Tina and Jill and made a beeline for the margarita pitchers.