Chapter Thirty-Five

Why is it when you feel like you are getting one part of your life settled, or at least in the managed-chaos stage, that colossal chaos comes your way? I’m partially blaming you all for my current dilemma. Apparently, there are people that think I may know a thing or two since so many of you follow me. If you are under that impression as well, please let me apologize. I’m not sure where they got their information.

But now I’ll be making my first public appearance. I’m supposed to string words together that sound intelligent and insightful. I’ve never ranked myself high on either scale. To top it off, my son is going on his first date this weekend. And not just any date, but a homecoming date. I’m gulping down my heart as I type.

I don’t know about you other single, divorced moms, but now I worry even more about being enough. Am I enough to show my son how to be a man? A better man than the one I chose for him?

Does he know that there is nothing more “manly” than showing his emotions or admitting when he’s made a mistake and then trying to do better? Does he know the influence he has to empower the future girls and women in his life? Have I empowered him? Will he know what it means to be a partner when I feel like I’m just learning that lesson now? Does he know that sometimes the strongest thing he can do is be gentle? Or that saying no to his own desires in place of another person’s shows strength beyond compare? Will he be brave enough in the tough moments to do the right thing? I know the man I trusted to be strong in the moments that truly counted wasn’t.

My hope is that my son sees what a destructive force selfishness is and chooses a better way. I hope that I will choose better. And I’m not talking about a man, though I do have a working list on the must-haves for the next husband, assuming there will be a next one. I’ll share that list in a later post, but spine-tingling kisses is a must.

As always, carry on, and don’t forget the important job we do on the sidelines. I especially love the support you all lend to each other and me on every thread. If you have any tips for how to make it through your son dating, or a good, stiff drink recommendation, send them my way. Just kidding. I should probably remain sober for this. So any non-alcoholic advice would be terrific.

Yours Truly,

Sidelined Wife in Chief

P.S. Return to Sender was riveting. I give it two thumbs up. Next up on the book club front is Midnight Promises. I’ll be sending out more info and the These Chicks Read Lit book club questions in my newsletter if you want to participate via Skype.

Yes, I had a newsletter. That was Delanie’s idea. And the Stepford Wives—aka These Chicks Read Lit—had assimilated me. The first book club had been last week, and I admit I enjoyed myself, even if we weren’t reading Hunter Black books. I even posted pictures on my blog and Facebook page of all my new artificial friends, who might turn into the real thing as long as they didn’t want to start braiding my hair or having sleepovers. I was afraid that was a possibility for some of them.

Did I mention one of the mean moms was a member? Her name was Clarice, as in Silence of the Lambs, though I pegged her more as the serial killer, not the heroine. Her beady-eyed stares all night bothered me. And every time someone mentioned they loved my blog, she made ugh sort of sounds that she tried to pass off as clearing her throat. I was so proud of myself when I finally handed her a cough drop halfway through our discussion. She begrudgingly had to take it, but I could tell with every fiber of her being she wanted to shove it down my throat.

Good times.

I clicked publish on my post and checked the time. I probably shouldn’t be writing posts at work, but that was one of the perks when you worked for family. Delanie was meeting Avery and me for lunch at the office to help Avery plan her Halloween party, even though she had it mostly planned already. This was more of an excuse to let Delanie know we loved her.

Delanie offered to bring the food. I hoped she wasn’t making it. I loved her and wanted to do what we could to mend the gaping hole Ma created and was adding to every day by refusing to apologize. It had been four days now. At least Peter and Delanie weren’t cutting off ties with everyone, but I couldn’t imagine Sunday dinner without them. I hated that our numbers were shrinking. Well, Reed had filled a spot, but how long would that last?

Speaking of Reed, my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw this message.

I want to know if your spine tingles when I kiss you, and how does that feel? My spine has never tingled.

My Reed grin came out.

First, I’m disappointed your spine doesn’t tingle when we kiss. And second, aren’t you supposed to be educating the next generation right now instead of reading my blog?

Just like I should be working. I had to get our third quarter tax payment transferred to the state. How were we already well into October? That meant a baby would be born soon. I forced that thought out of my head. Reed helped me out.

If you weren’t such a lady and I wasn’t doing my best to be a gentleman to you, I would tell you some things that . . . never mind, just know I look forward to each and every touch. And by the way, it’s my planning period.

I hoped no one walked into my office. Not only was my spine tingling, but I felt the mother of all hot flashes—the good kind, not the menopausal kind.

That’s right. I forgot.

You never did answer my original question.

I bit my lip. I would have thought the gasps would have answered that question for you.

I do enjoy those. It’s a shame I won’t be able to hear any in the near future.

That is a shame. Really it was. There was no time this week for us to sneak away. The last time we had seen each other was Monday to grocery shop, and as fun as that was, it left something to be desired. Namely, him.

Are we still on for pedicures this evening?

If you’re sure.

I still couldn’t believe he wanted to get one. I wasn’t entirely sure how we were going to pull it off together, but he said he had it handled. He hadn’t failed us yet. Although a woman had recognized me in the grocery store Monday, thankfully, Reed noticed and was able to scurry away unseen by the eager fan.

That was weird for me, by the way. She told me her whole life story there in the international food aisle, including how all three of her husbands had left her. One left her for a man, so she didn’t feel too bad about that one, but her last one left her for a much older woman. She was salty about it. So much so, she spray-painted his car and was arrested. I hoped she read the rules of the Sidelined Wives club: no talking about any illegal activity that would make us testify against you. I confess, I faked a phone call from Cody to get away from her. She frightened me.

I wouldn’t miss it. See you soon, gorgeous, Reed texted back.

I look forward to it.

And did I ever. I wasn’t sure I ever had this much fun dating when I was younger. Maybe it was the whole secret aspect. More than likely it was Reed. He was the epitome of fun. When we were younger, I considered his carefree attitude annoying. It’s amazing what twenty years could do for your perspective.

Lingering thoughts of Reed were interrupted by the sound of Delanie’s and Avery’s voices. I clicked out of my texting app and slid my phone into the pocket of my jeans before heading out to the front of the office to have lunch with my sisters. We would eat at Avery’s desk since we didn’t have a break room—there was only a small area in the back with a refrigerator and a microwave on a stand. Nothing fancy. The guys usually ate at the site they were working at. Once in a while they came to the office when James had a lunch date with Avery or if Peter was sneaking home to be with Delanie.

Delanie and Avery were already seated with a large paper bag from the local Thai restaurant on the desk. Relief filled me. No home-cooked Delanie meals. Delanie sat stiff and pensive opposite Avery. Even so, she looked gorgeous in her brown cable-knit sweater, her hair draped to the side. No wonder Peter was sneaking off any chance he could.

I was determined for Delanie to feel welcome in our family. I headed straight for her, pulled her up even though it was awkward, and hugged her like I would Cody. The feel-how-much-I-love-you-never-let-go type. It took her a moment to reciprocate, but she relaxed and squeezed back. With it came tears. Avery came around and joined us, wrapping her tiny arms around us. She was shorter than both of us, but stronger. Her toned arms were boa-constrictor-level tight.

My own tears started to fall. “Delanie, if we haven’t said it before, we are so happy you married our brother.”

Avery considered Peter to be every bit her brother. She had watched him grow up since he was in middle school.

“I am too, but how can so much happiness bring so much misery?”

“Mom will come around.” Avery tried to sound sure.

“I’m not sure, and it’s making my husband miserable. Family is everything to him.”

“And we’re all still here,” I tried to comfort Delanie.

She shook her head and took a step back from us, breaking up the group hug. “There’s more to it.” She pressed her lips together as if she had said too much.

Avery and I both glanced at each other before taking a closer look at our uncomfortable sister. Avery was bolder than me. “What are you talking about, honey?”

Delanie wiped the tears off her smooth, creamy cheek as if she was trying to get rid of any evidence of them. I had been there. More than I wanted to admit.

“I never imagined my life like this.”

Worry rose in my chest. Was she rethinking Peter because of our family? That would devastate him.

Avery and I leaned in, waiting for her to elaborate.

Delanie took a breath and looked up to the popcorn ceiling. “I never planned on getting married or settling down.”

Oh, this was bad. We leaned in closer.

Delanie’s eye filled with more tears. “Then I met Peter, a priest of all things.” She laughed to herself. “I never believed in God, but I thought if there was one, I was sure I would go to hell for the way I felt about him. From the moment Peter and I met, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. We tried to stay away from each other, but it proved impossible. Like a moth to the flame, I found myself finding any excuse to be around him. I even attended mass; anything to see him. He tried harder to resist me.”

Peter had never shared any of their history, so Delanie had our rapt attention. I felt butterflies in my stomach as if she was telling us a tale of forbidden love.

“Peter even asked to be reassigned to another diocese. I thought I would never see him again, so I told him I loved him. I fell in love with a man I had never touched, yet he had touched me so deeply with his kind heart and smile. He was passionate about helping the poor. He loved the kids we worked with. Kids,” she whispered, like she was being haunted by a ghost.

Avery and I looked to each other with a knowing glance. Delanie’s earlier comment was beginning to make more sense.

Delanie stared off into the distance. “I’ve never met a man who wanted kids more. Ironic, considering he once vowed to be celibate. Then he married me. Someone who believed there were too many children in the world that needed care. No need to add another. Except now there is nothing I want more than to give him, us, a child. And I can’t. We’ve tried and tried.”

I reached out and took her slender hand, which was covered in a phoenix-shaped henna tattoo. “I wish you would have said something. I’m so sorry.” I had wondered if they would have kids, but that was a private decision. Ma hadn’t even hounded them about it. I think she hoped they would break up. But as far as I could tell, that was a wasted hope that Ma needed to get over as soon as possible. Delanie and Peter loved each other. Anyone could see that.

Avery took Delanie’s other hand. “What can we do?”

Delanie shrugged. “I don’t know. Not even the doctors know what to do. Everything appears to be working fine, except it isn’t. And it’s not like—” She shook her head in a panic.

We didn’t press, but we were both curious.

Delanie composed herself and continued. “Peter says it doesn’t matter to him whether we have children or not, but he’s been talking more about adoption. Though in his eyes, I see how much he wants one of his own. How devastated he is with every negative pregnancy test.”

“Men,” Avery laughed. “They have this thing about wanting to spread their seed around.”

Delanie and I laughed with her. It was better than crying.

And I had a feeling we had all cried more than we ever wanted to share.

But that day, we shared part of ourselves, some of the most vulnerable, messy parts of our lives that we did our best to keep hidden. We never did talk about the new house or the Halloween party, but none of those seemed important in light of the secret pain our new sister had been carrying.

It was a reminder to never judge a book by the pretty cover we all put on display. We each carried burdens only known to us. We each needed relief and a shoulder to cry on, even if it was digitally. Sometimes we needed help to write the next chapter in our book or the strength from another to burn the one we were working on and start again. Avery had done that for me. The women that followed me on online were helping too. And now we would help Delanie however we could, even if we could only lend an ear. We’d shake some sense into Ma too, if possible.

I only hoped one day that Cody found a woman that loved him so fiercely.

But not until I was dead.