The Woman He Married (18 page)

With a forced smile, he cleared his throat. “It seems that you received the wrong key card.” Clearing his throat again, he said, “Let me just get you the right card.”

After punching a few more buttons, the clerk avoided eye contact with Josie while he waited for the machine at his side to spit out another room key. “Sorry for the inconvenience…must have been some sort of misunderstanding, I’m sure,” he said, smiling through what looked like excruciating pain.

Feeling a little uneasy, Josie took the card, confused as to how she ended up with a key to someone else’s room.

Chapter 7

The bright sun fell warm to her shoulders. A cool wind brushed past, sending a tingling sensation over her skin. Josie stirred as her subconscious drifted between the past and present, sending her back to the night before.
Back to the room.
Steel Magnolias
was rolling across the flat screen TV.
Julia Roberts shames Southerners with that muddled accent,
she’d thought,
didn’t she grow up in
Georgia
, for heaven’s sake?
She was alone.
Where’s my husband?
 
Her mind wandered off again…

A gull screeched overhead; another breeze touched the trees. In the room once more, John was rifling through his stuff, searching for something. He looked disconcerted, so Josie pretended to sleep.

The heat from the sun faded, the brightness dimming temporarily. Josie shivered; her stomach turned. Her mind tumbled back to this morning. “Well, if it isn’t the out-law Josie McClain,” Trisha’s voice mocked as her image shuddered into focus. “That was quite a story you told last night, but I wonder…was it true? It sounded a bit embellished.”

Trish’s breasts had strained against her sports bra, while her tight, fully exposed abs blurred, and then cleared.

“Imagine what the press would do if they found out John Bearden’s wife committed a felony—or was it two?” Trisha clicked her tongue.
“Could be very embarrassing for John.”

Josie struggled to respond but it was as if she no longer had control over her tongue.

“Do you just spend all your time coming up with ways to embarrass your husband? Like the stunt you pulled the other night with the costumes.” She raised a perfectly plucked brow. “I bet you and your
friend
 
had
a good laugh about that one.”

“No,” Josie mumbled.

“I wonder how many of your messes I’m going to have to clean up before this campaign’s
over?
” Trisha’s choice in words oddly resembled John’s. “Or, was last night just another example to add to your growing list of unacceptable behaviors?”

The lounge chair pressed hard against her body—she wanted to move. A man and woman discussing the lunch menu brought her back to the beach.
How
can they think about food at a time like this?
She felt agitated. The voices faded, the words, “cleaning,” “messes,” and “behavior” taking their place, swirling painfully through her head. Whose words were they originally?
John’s, or has Trisha been poisoning him against me?

* * * *

“Jocelyn…um…Josie,” Barbara sang softly into her ear. “It’s time for our spa appointment.”

Josie’s eyes resisted at first, but finally edged open just enough to see two empty umbrella-clad glasses on the table next to her chair.

“We’re going to miss our appointment if we don’t get a move on.”

Blinking against the harsh sunlight, Josie tried to focus on the face smiling kindly down at her. “What time is it?” she asked, though she really didn’t care.

Barbara held out Josie’s cover-up.
“Just a smidge past one, dear.”

Once she’d awkwardly turned herself over, Josie pushed herself to sitting. Her head spun with the movement. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to tie the slippery fabric of her cover-up around her hips. Standing up, she felt the world tilting oddly to the side. Maybe drinking Long Island Iced Teas on an empty stomach wasn’t the best idea.

After what seemed like a mile hike through the resort, Josie had to concentrate hard just to appear somewhat steady as she and Barbara walked in silence through the spa doors. With lightly painted walls, bright colored bouquets of flowers, and workers in white lab coats, Josie thought the spa looked more like a clinic than a place one came to relax. On edge now, she wondered if maybe this wasn’t a spa at all, but some sort of intervention center. She glanced around, expecting John to appear with the rest of his entourage, saying, “Jocelyn, this is for your own good.” If this
were
rehab, she hoped that there would at least be a good-looking guy like
Viggo
Mortensen in
28 Days
.

A slim young woman with a tight bun and high cheekbones introduced herself as Amber, their spa coordinator. She instructed them to change out of their clothes and into the robes she was holding. “Remove
everything
,” she said.

Locked in the small compartment, Josie could barely move and wondered how Barbara was managing to change in hers. Still unsteady, Josie lost her balance while removing her swimsuit and fell against the wall with a thud.
This isn’t good
, she thought as her knees gave out and she slid down the wall, to the floor.

Barbara knocked on the door.
“You all right, dear?”

Wedged into the corner between two walls that now seemed to be getting closer by the minute, Josie had no idea how she was going to get up. And to make maters worse, when she looked up, the small compartment began to spin.

Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.

“I’m okay…just a minute longer,” Josie said, trying to sound in control as she squeezed her eyes shut tight and hoisted
herself
up.
I’m never drinking again
.

More than a few minutes later, miraculously, Josie emerged from the “box,” almost colliding with Barbara and their coordinator. Barbara gave Josie a patronizing smile while Amber held out two capsules and a glass of water, saying, “Swallow these—they’re N-Acetyl-
cysteine
.” When Josie gave her a quizzical look, Amber said, “They’ll cleanse your liver.”

Josie popped them into her mouth, saying, “Maybe I should have a few more.”

Barbara and Amber blinked vacantly back at her. Neither woman seemed the least bit amused with her joke.

“So.
What would you ladies like to do first?” Amber asked as if Josie hadn’t just spoken.
“Massage or facials?”

Josie chose the massage first. After the dressing room incident, she thought lying down would be her best option for now.

* * * *

More relaxed after her massage, Josie was lounging in a comfy leather recliner next to Barbara. Both of their faces were covered in brown gooey mud, their hair up in a towel, while two women worked on their feet. Up until now, they’d kept mostly quiet.

“I was thinking that maybe we could go shopping after the spa,” Barbara said, breaking the silence.

“That would be great,” Josie slurred. Even her lips felt relaxed. “I don’t have anything decent to wear tonight.”

“The shops on the island are over-priced but then, price doesn’t really matter; it’s more important how the clothes make you feel.”

“
Mmmm
,” Josie hummed, doubting that John would be so easily persuaded.

“So Jocelyn—or do you prefer Josie?”

“Josie, actually.
John and my parents are the only people who’ve ever called me Jocelyn.”

Barbara smiled tentatively,
then
plunged on. “Josie. So, I’m curious. How did a liberal activist such as
yourself
end up married to a…well, a rather conservative man like John?”

* * * *

John, Andy, and Patrick leaned against the golf cart, waiting their turn to tee off. Four older gentlemen from the Northeast were in front of them and moving slowly.

“Come on, already!
What’z
wrong wit ya?” a young stout man in light blue shorts and a Yankees hat complained as an older gentleman in plaid pants kept moving his tee around, setting up each time, but then changing his mind.

Another man put in, “You
gotz
a problem or
somtin
? Come on, pop!
Just
hitz
da
ball.”

“Just
hitz
da
ball already;
we’z
don’t got all day.”

“So.
I’ve been wondering about something,” Patrick said, looking to John. “How is it that a guy such as
yourself
ended up married to someone like Jocelyn?” He rushed on to clarify. “I mean, she sort of has that sexy, rebellious, free-spirited thing going on, and you’re so…reserved.”

“Come again?” John asked, offended.

“I mean, she tries to act like this proper little housewife, which she obviously isn’t. Face it, y’all are like night and day is all I’m saying.”

* * * *

Josie spoke methodically, trying to remember. “It was the spring after my second year of law school, and Brian and I were finally going to
Africa
. We’d
been wanting
to go there for a long time and were just waiting for the right opportunity

“My momma called and told me Daddy was getting real sick. They didn’t know how much longer he had, and she wanted me to come home that summer to spend it with the Judge.” Josie shrugged. “I didn’t want to, but Momma sounded desperate, so I told Brian to go on without me, and I headed back to
Alabama
.”

* * * *

John shook his head. It had been a long time since he’d thought about when he first met Josie. “I’d just finished law school and the Judge wanted me to clerk for him one more summer…take some time to study for the bar and all before getting a job. He said he’d make sure I got an interview at
Tyler
and Whitney come fall.” Feeling nostalgic all of a sudden, he said, “He was getting old and pretty sick, so it was hard. I idolized that man.” Swallowing, he pushed down the pain. “So, I stayed.”

“You clerked for him three years, so you already knew Jocelyn,” Patrick said.

Andy stood back, practicing his swing.

“Yeah, well, I knew the Judge had a daughter, but I’d never met her. I mean, she and her daddy didn’t get on well, and she didn’t come home much.” With a shrug, John added, “All the old man ever said was that his daughter took off with some loser and went to law school in
California
.” Heat pricked the back of his neck when he thought about Josie and Brian together. Although he hadn’t known it then, Brian McAlister was no loser.

* * * *

“When I got home, Momma hadn’t exaggerated—Daddy looked pretty bad.” Josie exhaled, remembering how strange it was to see him so weak. “All he kept talking about was how I needed to meet a nice boy and marry a proper husband. He said that’s all he wanted for me.” Josie shot Barbara a dubious smile before continuing. “He wanted me to meet his clerk, said he was the ‘right’ kind of man for me.”

Barbara looked confused. “What about Brian? He wasn’t the
right
kind of man?”

“Well, although his father had—has,” she corrected herself, “an impressive record in the District Attorney’s office, Brian was liberal to say the least, and Daddy thought he was a bad influence on me.” Embarrassment colored her cheeks as she said, “Plus, he caught Brian leaving early one morning over Christmas break. No daddy wants to think his little girl is…well, you know. Brian was pretty much banned after that. So,
I
didn’t come home much either.”