Trouble Won't Wait (26 page)

“It was never a question of me wanting her. It was if she wanted me, after I let
you
get your hands on me.”

“It was a lot more than hands. And it’s been good, you know it has.” She makes wet noises with her mouth, maybe around his neck.

“Stop it, Lana. We’re finished.” His voice betrays that he’s enjoying whatever she’s doing. God, listening to this is harder than I thought it would be.

“Don’t let her win you, Mike. Choose me.” Her voice is sensual, with a timbre mine never has. Does that come in the package with her extra pheromones?

He laughs coldly, then grunts as he shoves her away. Her feet stagger a bit in the snow. “Choose you? How could I ever choose you over her?”

Now
that
feels good!

“What’s she got that I haven’t?”

“Scruples, mainly. But she’s smart and the mother of my kids, and the woman I wanta grow old with. She’s good to look at, and even better in bed.”

My heart lurches at the compliments my traitor is bestowing, even if it is too late.

“You said I was better.”

I can imagine the pout on her face.

“Of course I said that. I didn’t wanta hurt your feelings by telling you that a woman who only does it recreationally is better than you, when you practically make a career of it.”

The serenity of the holy night is cut by the sound of a hand slapping a face. He’s quiet, then she threatens, “How ’bout I go in there and ruin all that for you, by telling her about our Saturdays?”

“According to you, she already knows.” That’s my Mike, always the bluffer.

“She does, but do you wanta take that chance?”

“You want Brad to find out? Look, you’re just not the kind of woman men wanta be with long-term. Don’t try it!”

She must’ve been about to slap him again. I hear her move against him, the sound of nylon jackets rubbing together.

His back presses against the fence, making it creak in protest. “Lana…”

I hear a short zipper move.

“Once more, Mike. I’ll make you want me again.”

“It’s really cold out here. Oh, stop.” From the slurping sounds, it’s not hard to figure out what she’s doing. I hear him moan in the way he has hundreds of times for me, and I start to move away, feeling sick. She got him again. Worse, I had to hear her getting him. I can sense his arousal, hear it, maybe smell it. Feel it in the pit of my stomach the way I do on summer nights when I hear cats fighting outside, then realize they’re not fighting. Hot tears are starting in the corners of my eyes when I hear the sound of the suction breaking, like when someone snatches the bottle’s nipple from a baby’s mouth.

“Knock it off, you stupid slut! I said to stop. How many other guys have you done that for this week?”

“It never bothered you before.”

“Well it bothers me now! Stay away from me, Lana. Jesus, how could I want you before? Even your shrink is a sex-maniac. I can’t believe I took your recommendation and used him for our counseling.”

Oh, Mike. You poor fool
. Did she deliberately send him to a counselor she knew wouldn’t help, or did she really think Baldwin was a good shrink?

I’ve stopped walking, hearing what I want to again.

“For all your practice, you’re not even good at it.” He stomps away, and she’s smacking the fence now. “Stay away from me and my family, or I’ll make sure Brad knows.”

Don’t worry, hubby, got that ground covered
.

I scuttle back inside, turning off the recorder on the way.

Brad looks questioningly at me when I come in, and I muster a half-smile for him. I truly hope he doesn’t hate me after tonight.

“Listen to this later,” I tell him, handing him the recorder. “Please don’t hate me. I’ve known since Thanksgiving.”

Now he really looks confused, but I think he has an idea what he’s going to find. He nods and puts the thing in his pocket as Mike enters the front of the house.

Mike immediately searches me out and pulls me to him in an almost desperate embrace. I suppose after their conversation, he’s scared silly. Lana might still make good on her threat and expose him, destroying what he’s been working so hard to build back up for us. He
should
be afraid. What he’s going to lose tonight will hurt. I should know.

Brad can see the revulsion on my face over Mike’s shoulder, and he looks at his pocket, then back at me. I nod, letting him know he’s on the right track.

“Baby, come on. Come in the living room. I have an announcement. Let’s get the kids up here.”

“No, Mike. No kids!” God, the kids
can’t
see this. Desperation in my voice makes him grimace at me in confusion, but he complies with my request.

In the middle of the room he stops me, and gets down on his knees. Everyone watches as he pulls the guilt gift, the very costly Please Forgive Me Ring, from his pocket. A hush falls over our friends as they prepare to watch an incredibly romantic gesture.

I didn’t plan for it to be like this, to break Mike’s heart in front of all our friends. I planned to get some dirt on Lana and him with the recorder, and make sure Brad knew. Then I’d go home and break his heart in private, let him know his marriage had been nuked, and that he’d pushed the launch button. Repeatedly.

Now here I stand, knowing what he’s going to do, and I can play along and make Lana hurt even more if I want, and then crush Mike badly at home. It would be kinder to this man I’ve loved for nearly half my life. On the other hand, he thinks he got away with sneaking around for the last month. Virtually no one knows about even that first Indiscretion. He thinks he’s gotten off scot-free for a month of infidelity, a month of lies. Of slowly breaking my heart.

“Mandy, I love you more now than I did thirteen years ago.” Ah, the Speech Voice. Usually reserved for toasts at his company parties. “Together we have two wonderful children, a beautiful home and a prospering business. And without you, none of it would be possible.” Nice how he leaves out my writing. “Will you please do me the honor of marrying me again?”

Silence in the room. Lana’s indignant, multipurpose mouth is hanging open.

He slides the ring on my finger, behind my wedding band. Not even waiting for an answer. Assuming I’ll consent. Good old Mandy, always comes back, always forgives.

“You didn’t let me answer.” I smile sweetly, despite my thundering heart.

Soft female chortles bubble around the room. Everyone probably expects me to say something romantic. I look at Brad, who looks from me to Lana. He’s made the connection, I believe.

Mike smiles at me and starts to stand.

I push down on his shoulders, and he loses his balance, sitting back hard on his heels.

“I know what you’ve been doing the last month, Michael.” My voice is still sweet as Karo syrup.

His eyes widen.

“Sneaking off every Saturday morning, calling and texting the hussy you bent over in this garage the night before Thanksgiving. And tonight I followed you outside and listened while she…” I suck in a deep breath and some courage. “…well, Brad, you don’t wanta know what was in Lana’s mouth just a few minutes ago.”

Mike shakes his head, as if he can deny my words and the wet patches on Lana’s knees.

People are making the connection, placing Mike and Lana together, and more than one mouth twists in disgust.

Lana’s face is nice and rosy now, and not from the cold.

“I’ll never believe another word from your mouth unless I can verify it. So,
no
Mike, I won’t marry you again. Our marriage is over from this minute forward. I don’t want this ring.” I pull off the new one. “Or this one, either.”

When I hand him our wedding band, he looks truly defeated. I always wear our ring. Even when it’s getting re-pronged, I wear a gold band. Now he knows I mean business. There will be no discussion from here on out.

This has to be the biggest scene I’ve ever made in my life. Our friends talk in hushed voices, some of them snickering. Mike is completely humiliated, sitting on the floor with the rings in his hand, looking like he’s never seen them before.

Brad just went to his room, and Lana followed only to have the door slammed in her face. She comes back out, grabs her coat, and casts me a look like I’m the Wicked Witch of the West. Most everybody else is picking up coats to leave, calling up their kids from the basement.

Certain I should make some announcement to apologize, but unable to muster another ounce of stage bravery, I walk down the hall to poor Brad’s room and knock.

“Brad?”

To my relief, he lets me in, though he doesn’t speak.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about doing this in front of everybody and ruining your party.”

“You knew since Thanksgiving.” It’s a hollow statement, like he didn’t know what emotion to insert, so he left it empty, just a word-shell.

“I caught them.”

His lip curls.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure what to do right away, and then I didn’t want other people to know. I was so embarrassed, and the kids…”

He just stares, sitting on the edge of his bed. What’s he thinking?

“Look, I’m gonna go. I’m so sorry to tell you this way.”

“Mandy.” He swallows hard, then asks, “You’re really done with him?”

I laugh sardonically. “
Really
, really.”

“Go out with me New Year’s Eve.”

Didn’t see that one coming.

I can’t flatten him with a rejection at this point. “Um, let me see if I’m…ready for that. Can I get back to ya?”

He nods, looking hopeful. Shit.

* * * *

Mike has already left on foot. I call our kids up and drive them home. They want to know where Dad is, and I tell them he went out for fresh air because he’d had too much beer. It’s not far to walk. We usually do.

At home, the kids get ready for bed. Rachel is still anxious to be asleep before Santa shows up.

Mike gets home just in time to kiss them goodnight. In what was once our room, he apologizes again. “Mandy, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it’s over. Keep the ring, for Rachel, okay?” He hands me back the wedding band, still dazed.

I wonder how long it will take for him to hurt.

He pulls down the bedcovers and slides in.

“I’m going out, Mike. I’ll be back later.”

“Where?”

“It’s none of your business anymore.”

Chapter 16

With my little bag o’ tricks on my lap, I’m driving to Adam’s, free to be with him now. I thought about calling first, but want to surprise him.

In the bag, I have a CD I burned, starting with Macy Gray singing
What I Want for Christmas
–him, of course. Then,
I Try
, and the songs we both said were our favorites. I have my little negligee, and before we make wild, passionate love, I’m going to tell him I love him. I’ll stay with him until maybe four AM and then sneak back home before the kids wake.

There’s a car in Adam’s driveway.
A Mercedes
. Guess he has some company, maybe somebody from work. The plates are from Texas. Inconvenient, but I’m not letting a little company dampen my spirits. We’ll just have to wait to get amorous until after they’re gone.

I knock on his door; I don’t like to use the doorbell. Rascal will probably run out, so I’m watching down low for him, squatting. There he is, and I scoop him up, kissing his silky little nose, and singing, “Hey, Rascal!”

The light shines full on me now that the door is open wide.

“I got it, hon’!” calls the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s tall, and blond, and…Laura. From Texas, of course. With, by the looks of things, the “baby” Adam kept asking about, only baby won’t be arriving for another month or so. I reflexively step back, holding Rascal against my shoulder.

“Hello?” Laura asks in a very cultured voice.

I’m going to pass out. My world is spinning in a worse way than it ever has.

“Um, here.” I hand the cat back, and rush to my Durango, my bag of goodies still in hand. I can hear her calling out, but I’m not stopping. Oh God, oh God. I’m driving out of here fast before what I just saw hits me. In my rearview, I see Adam step out his front door as I slide around the corner. Oh God.

Driving, I’m not sure where. The roads are slick, and I hate slick roads, but I can’t stop driving, or I’ll think.

Okay, I’m sick of my tires spinning at stop signs. I’m going home. To my
broken
home. With my broken heart. Twice broken, like twice-baked pork or refried beans. Re-fried heart.

It’s my eyes that keep getting my heart in trouble. My eyes saw that thing with Mike, and my eyes saw the gorgeous female who is Adam’s big secret. I’m so stupid!
No wonder
he was always so secretive. And I just played along. Stupid, stupid. I must be a con-artist’s dream. He said he wouldn’t ask me to trust him, but I did. I did it on my own. I trusted him and let myself fall in love with him, in only a month. It took me almost a year to fall in love with Mike. Aren’t we supposed to get
smarter
as we get older?