Chapter Fourteen
Joseph was right. My week was painful, but not because of him. I could honestly say I was beginning to adore him. He brought me breakfast every morning and was transforming my backyard along with the day workers Peter had contracted with, and it was turning out beautiful. He truly behaved as if he wanted to get to know me. He even kissed my cheek when he said goodbye yesterday. He was becoming the father-in-law I had hoped for when we moved here. His wife, on the other hand. . . The one who said she only needed to take a few measurements? She didn’t mention that was going to be an every-freaking-day thing. She even dragged Sam into the mix after telling her she didn’t need to lift a finger.
Most of the time Sam and I stood there watching and hoping it would all go away, but no. My house was filled with tulle—I wasn’t even sure what that was or what they were using it for, but there were rolls of it everywhere. On top of that colored net stuff there were tubs and tubs of who knows what, but I was sure to find out soon.
That wasn’t the worst of it. Sarah had lots of friends that came too. Who knew she had friends? Okay, that was petty. I was in the process of trying to retrain my brain, but it was hard when Sarah was turning my life into a sequel of The Wedding Planner. This movie, though, was going to be more along the lines of a horror film. I was calling it Chucky’s Bridezilla Mother. And heads were going to roll at the end of it if I didn’t get some writing done. Chad was now frequently sending me texts laced with friendly threats and four-letter words. My responses were not all that friendly. I upped his four-letter words with some trashy mash-ups of those vile words and accompanied those responses with pictures of the Little Shop of Horrors Bridal Boutique that had thrown up in my house. Soon I would be begging Seymour to feed me to his overgrown Venus fly trap, or better yet, that’s where I would dispose of the heads that were going to roll.
Maybe I needed to lay off the sadistic pop culture references.
The scariest thing, though, was how nice Sarah was being to me. I’m not kidding when I say I had taken major precautions before she set foot in our house again. I had not only locked the attic, but every bedroom door. I even took down all the framed New York Times posters and any other incriminating evidence and placed them in boxes just in case. But Sarah and her minions never went upstairs, except to measure the staircase for that tulle stuff.
I watched them like a hawk, but Sarah didn’t so much as look in the direction of the bedroom that led to the attic. Instead, when Bethany surveyed the bottom floor from above and said, “Whoever designed this house deserves a medal. It’s stunning,” Sarah smiled and nodded. Sarah also greeted me every day and introduced me as Peter’s wife without once choking on her words. That was more alarming than anything. What was she playing at? Or was I being paranoid?
While Sarah invaded my home, Sam and I caught up on her life in between Sarah asking for Sam’s opinion on everything and begging her to invest in a wedding dress—a white one, preferably. Sam rolled her eyes so many times I was getting motion sickness from it. I could hardly blame her though. She didn’t want this shindig and, like me, she had better things to do than watch grown women get excited over paper flowers, several of which were placed above my fireplace.
Poor Sam was also dealing with the first day of school blues. She sat tearing up on my couch while we faced each other with our feet tucked beneath us. “I can’t believe Cody is a junior. I wanted to hold onto his legs this morning and beg him not to leave like he used to do to me when he was two. Reed talked me out of it.”
I laughed at her. “That was a good call on his part.”
“No one warns you about this part in life. They always tell you to hold on tight to them when they’re little. They don’t prepare you for the gut-wrenching ache when they can walk out your door and drive off without a second thought about you.”
“Cody loves you; he’s just a typical teen boy.”
“I think he loves Reed more.”
“I doubt it, but that’s not a bad thing.”
Sam let out a heavy enough breath she ruffled some of her hair. “You’re right, especially since Neil has decided to father a child with every woman under twenty-five he meets. Can you believe he had the audacity to tell me that eloping was immature?” She gave me an evil grin. “I may have responded that at least Reed didn’t need to have his parents’ permission.”
“How did that go over?”
“He mumbled something about this still being all my fault and we could have worked it out.”
“Someone’s delusional.”
“I suggested medication.”
“How’s his mother dealing with all this?” Gelaire was like a second mother to Sam. Sam still took her grocery shopping once a week. I could never picture Sarah and I alone like that, especially if Peter and I were no longer together.
“Gelaire, while unhappy about her son’s poor choices, is happy for me. She’s coming Saturday, along with everyone else Ma invited, unfortunately,” she tried to say quietly.
“I heard that,” Sarah called from the dining room. “You should be grateful so many people love you.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “They don’t love me. They all want to say they went to the Sidelined Wife’s reception.”
Not that I didn’t think people loved Sam, but I had a feeling she was right. It was bizarre how many people RSVP’d on such short notice. A woman with a small cake decorating business had even volunteered to make a massive four-tiered cake and cupcakes for the soiree, free of charge I might add, unless you counted that she wanted to be able to post pictures of her creations on her website. I had no doubt the benevolent baker would make sure to have Sam and Reed in some of them.
All the attention Sam was receiving made me even more thankful no one knew who Autumn Moone was.
“Speaking of your alter ego, did you sign on the dotted line for Weekend Musings?”
Sam clasped her hands together. “Yes. I’m so nervous. I start in a few weeks.”
“Congratulations. You’re going to be fantastic.”
She took my hands and squeezed them. “I hope so. I also have two book signings next week. Can you believe it?”
“I can.”
“How do you think I should sign my name? These are the things that are keeping me up at night now.”
“Not Reed?” I teased.
Sam blushed. “Yeah, well, him too. He’s already planning a big honeymoon for us over Christmas break.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Being married to Reed is fun, and not just because of the S-E-X,” Sam whispered.
“I heard that too, Samantha Marie,” Sarah yelled. She must have cat ears. Good to know.
Sam shook her head at her mother. “Don’t get me wrong, that part is good. More than good.” Her cheeks glowed.
“So I read on your blog.”
Sam waved me off with a cat-like grin. “Seriously though, he’s my partner in every sense of the word.”
I knew exactly how she felt. Peter was my best friend.
“Enough talk about men. Please tell me you will come to my book signings. If you and Avery come, at least I know two people will be there.”
“Of course I’ll come.” Though Chad was in my head telling me not to. “I predict a line out the door.”
“I doubt it.”
“Mark my words.”
She let out a huge breath. “How did I ever get here? I guess I can thank Autumn Moone.” She laughed.
I could only nod with a pressed-lipped smile. What did I say? What I wanted to say was we could both blame Autumn Moone for the lives we were leading. “Do you ever wish she wouldn’t have posted your blog?”
Sam rubbed her lips together and thought, making me more nervous of her answer. She let out a meaningful sigh. “When I receive negative comments or people I don’t know think they have every right to judge me, at those times I wish for my quiet life back. But . . . in a weird way, she gave me confidence to be who I am. To give Reed a chance. For that I can’t thank her enough.”
Internally I breathed a sigh of relief. Outwardly I squeezed her hand. “I’m glad she did.”
~*~
Amid all the chaos and me staying up way too late trying to make my deadline, an interesting thing happened. Perspective. Wednesday night before I left to help at the shelter and then attend my “class,” Peter was giving me a much-needed long kiss goodbye in the kitchen. We were hiding from the women who were now perpetual fixtures in our home.
Peter had me backed up against the counter, his arms employed to hold me as tightly against his body as they could. His warm mouth crushed my own while his tongue teased my lips to part. I was in the middle of enjoying the taste of Peter and his hands all over my curves when we heard a cleared throat. I told you, cleared throats were never good. We reluctantly pulled apart, not really caring we had been caught kissing in our own home.
Peter groaned and turned around. That was about as annoyed as he ever behaved. He took my hand and we faced his mom together. It was the first time all week she scowled, but she made sure to recover from it quickly, raising my suspicions yet again. But then she made me doubt my doubts about her.
“We’re leaving,” Sarah informed us.
“Do you need help taking anything out?” Peter asked.
Sarah gave her precious boy a big smile. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Okay, let me finish saying goodbye to Delanie before she leaves for the shelter.”
“Shelter?” Sarah’s face scrunched with the question.
“Delanie volunteers at a women and children’s shelter every week.”
A wash of astonishment fell over Sarah’s face. She stared at me as if she had never seen me before. “What do you do there?” Her tone bordered on skeptical.
“A little of everything—playing with the children, helping women with resumes, cleaning. It depends on the week.”
Red appeared in Sarah’s cheeks as if she was embarrassed. What did she have to be embarrassed about?
“I had no idea,” Sarah stuttered.
That’s when it hit me. We didn’t know each other at all. I had watched her for three days interact with what seemed like nice women, and guess what? They all liked her a lot. She laughed with them and gave advice, even comfort when one lady mentioned that her dad was diagnosed with dementia. She was nothing like the woman who had no issue showing me how much she didn’t like me. I also caught a glimpse of how much she really wanted to do this for her daughter. To show Sam and Reed off. She spoke several times of how proud she was of Sam and all she had accomplished, and what a fine catch Reed was.
There Sarah stood looking at me with the same bewilderment I felt toward her. For the first time, I think she was truly questioning if she knew who I was. And for the first time, I saw her as more than my enemy.