The Other Woman (23 page)

“Holly!” Bradley chides. “Honey, don’t say that.”

Holly looks up at her father, turns to look at Scarlett, and then looks back at me, a spark of confusion in her blue eyes. Her fists remain tight against her chest.

My eyes fly to Bradley’s.
How dare you feed our kids these lies?

“I’ve said nothing to them,” he mutters, as if reading my mind.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I look at Phoebe. She refuses to even look at me, let alone accept the gifts from me.

I squeeze the kitten and it meows. “See, Phoebe? You have a go. C’mon!”

She buries herself further into Bradley.

My shoulders collapse and my arms drop to the sides. Even though I don’t want to upset my kids, tears just stream down my face. I can’t help it; my heart splinters into a million pieces.

“Rival, don’t!” Bradley says, in a voice that is not unkind.

“I’m s…sorry,” I say. “I love you girls. I’m sorry this happened. I will f…fix this. I promise. I will fix it.”

Bradley puts out his hand. “Rival, don’t worry. Give them to me. I’ll give it to them later.”

Scarlett takes a giant step forward. “I think we should go,” she says, pulling away his arm, stopping him from taking the gifts from me. “The kids are really upset, Bradley. Let’s spare them, okay? No more.”

Bradley nods, even though he sports a look of uncertainty.

“Give it time,” Bradley eventually says, scooping up Phoebe and pulling Holly closer to him. “Just give it time, Rival,” he says, backing away.

All four of them walk to the car and drive off.

Shrouded in despair, I drag myself to a vacant park bench and take a seat, my eyes fixed to the ground, my heart in tatters. I’ve lost my kids. I’ve lost my kids for good.

My phone rings. It’s Ritchie.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rival, how did it go?”

“N…not good, Ritchie.”

The line goes silent for a short while.

“I’m coming over. Where exactly are you?”

“Rival!” It’s Bradley’s voice. I spin around and see him standing not far from me with Holly and Phoebe. Behind him is Scarlett with a scowl on her face.

“What is it?” Ritchie asks.

“Bradley’s back,” I whisper. “Hold on.”

I blink hard. Am I imagining it? Maybe they’ve come back to tell me that all visitations are now cancelled because it’s too upsetting for the girls? Maybe…maybe Bradley’s getting Holly and Phoebe to tell me
themselves
that they no longer want anything to do with me?

Holding my breath, I stare at them.

Holly shakes off Bradley’s hand and stomps over to me. She stands in front of me and gnashes her teeth. “I should be able to paint my nails any color I want. Not just Tinkerbell Pink.”

“Wha—”

“And why did you leave us at the mall? Why? Why? Why? You were so mean to us.” She starts to cry.

I’m taken aback at her confrontation. “Honey, I…I was—”

“I was scared, Rival!” she says and furiously wipes away tears. “Phoebe, she was crying and she was scared and…and she said, ‘I want Mummy,’ and I got scared, but I was carrying her and she was heavy, and the police, they were asking so many questions. My head hurt and my heart hurt and arms and…and I was scared, Mummy, eh, Rival.”

I didn’t think you could break a heart that’s already broken. I was wrong. The unbridled hurt in my daughter’s voice crushes the shredded remnants of my heart.

“I was ill, baby,” I say, fighting to control my voice, my tears, the urge to rush over and take her into my arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mummy was sick, that’s all.”

Her bottom lip sticks out as tears run down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Holly. I’m so sorry. Remember the times when you were sick? When you were too ill and Mummy had to sleep with you? I didn’t have a mummy to watch over me and to sleep with me, so they took me away and made me better. Now I’m well, and I want my babies back. Because…because Holly, you and Phoebe, you are my world. I love the two of you so much.”

“You should have told me!” she snaps, tapping her little foot on the ground and trying to look angry, but failing to. “I would have taken care of you. I would have given you vanilla ice cream and throat lozenges like you…used to give me. You should have told me.”

I smile and look at Bradley, who has Phoebe in his arms.

“Give me that kitten!” Holly snaps.

Gingerly I hand her a kitten that is now wet with my tears. She takes it and holds it to her cheek. It meows and a chuckle escapes her.

“And the balloon.” She flexes all her fingers at me.

With a smile, I hand her the balloon.

“Two – the candy-stripe one too. Please.”

With a smile, I hold it out to her. She snatches it out of my hand, walks back to Phoebe, gives it to her. “Take them,” she orders. It’s okay.”

Phoebe takes them with no problem.

Holly strides back to me and stands before me. “Now give me a h…hug!”

I laugh through my pain and my tears and give her a gentle hug so as not to scare her. To my delight, she hugs me really tight.

“Now give me a kiss before I squeeze and squeeze till I get all the cheese,” I say with a laugh.

She smiles and plants several wet kisses on my lips. “You taste salty, Mummy.”

As I hug my beautiful daughter, my firstborn who I fell in love with the day she was born, I whisper, “I love you, and I love Phoebe, and soon we are going to be together.”

“Promise, Mummy? Promise?”

“I promise, baby, I promise.”

“What are you going to do with the other kitten?” she asks.

With a smile, I thrust it at her. “I forgot. Will you give it to Phoebe for me?”

“Okay, Mum, I will.” She takes it from me and gives it to Phoebe. “There are no needles in them. I checked. I put it by my cheek and look, no blood.” She looks at Scarlett. “I checked. No needles, see?”

Scarlett doesn’t answer or respond, but her face looks like she sucked on a lemon.

Phoebe happily accepts her older sister’s reasoning and the kitten, and hugs it to her chest, laughing out loud when it meows.

She turns to Bradley “Daddy, look!”

Bradley nods, a sad smile on his face, his eyes glassy.

Holly is smiling, Phoebe is smiling, Bradley is smiling, and I am smiling.

The only person who is not smiling is Scarlett. Her face is like thunder.

“Well, we’ll be off, then,” Bradley says.

I nod, then walk over to Phoebe, take her face in my hands, and kiss her. “See you soon, okay?”

Her response is to hide her face in Bradley’s chest. That’s okay, I still hug her. While I do, Holly dives to join in the hug.

“Family hug,” she says.

On a high, I do take liberties – I throw my arms around Holly, Bradley, and Phoebe.

Bradley doesn’t resist, to my relief, and for a few moments, I bask in what was once my family.

Finally, they walk toward the car. As they do, Holly turns, walks backwards, and as she does, she blows me kisses. With a smile as bright as the morning sun on my face, I return her kisses.

“Love you, Mum!” Holly shouts through the window as Bradley buckles them in.

“Love you more!” I say, even though I can’t see her.

“Love you double!”

“Love you triple,” I say.

“Love you…eh, bazillion,” she says.

I laugh out loud.

I don’t miss the look of pure fury on Scarlett’s face. I cock my head at her.
I win, bitch! You may have poisoned my kids’ minds against me, but guess what, love rules.

As they drive off, I hear, “Hello? Rival?”

I grab my phone. “Oh, shit, Ritchie, sorry about that! So sorry. I forgot about you.”

“No worries. I heard it all. You happy now?”

“Ecstatic!”

“I’m coming to fetch you.”

“Okay, but I have to tell you, I feel like dancing all the way home.”

“In that case, I will bring music.”

“Great idea. But the cops might see me dancing in public, think I’m high or nuts, and cart my arse off to Dunhill.”

He laughs, and I think, what a nice laugh Ritchie has. Masculine and warm. And he’s got a great sense of humour, which means I feel free to say anything to him without worrying about how he will take it. I like that. He’s become my friend. A close one.

When Ritchie pulls up, he has Pitbull’s “Back in Time” blaring. I dance toward the Jeep. He laughs and gets out of the car. Ignoring people watching us, I shimmy toward him. He grabs my hand, twirls me around, and dips me.

I hear someone screaming with laughter. Me.

****

SCARLETT

Rival and Holly and Phoebe, all tight again. How quickly these little bitches have turned on me. I’m in utter shock at their fickle and perfidious behavior. Really, I am. After all, wasn’t it I who baked cupcakes with them when their druggie mother was AWOL? Wasn’t I in their lives every single day and night taking care of them, helping with homework, helping with sumptuous dinners, planning wonderful family vacations away?
Child
-
friendly
, family-style accommodation at that, so that they could be happy? Is this the thanks I get?

The first time, I did my part and managed to get them back into the car sans Rival’s cheesy bribes.

But in the car, Holly betrayed me, just like that. “Mum looks sad, daddy,” she said. Her exact words. Can you believe it? Calling her "Mum" after all the time I took to explain things to them? Only one of us can be called ‘Mummy,” remember? Clearly she is an outright rebel, and she will pay for that.

“Do you wanna go back, Holly?” Bradley asked.

When Holly silently looked out of the window, I thought okay, maybe she deserves another chance. But then she said, “Yes, Daddy.”

And Phoebe, she chose to listen to her sister rather than me? I’m terribly disappointed with both Bradley’s children. Disillusioned, actually.

And Bradley, where is his brain? How dare he show such sympathy toward Rival? Where are his balls? The woman put him through hell when she
partied
around – didn’t that matter to him?

He probably thinks I didn’t see him do a double-take when we pulled up.

“Is that Rival? Can’t be. Is it her?” Those were his words. In a tone of voice like someone in awe. Didn’t even try to hide it from me. Where’s the respect?

Guess I have to get the wedding on really quickly, because I can see that Rival is going to be a handful and a spoke in my wheel of fortune. Not that I’m afraid or intimidated by her. It’s just better if I cement things before my plans unravel completely.

****

RITCHIE

We’re at Arena’s place for a swim and a barbeque, and Rival can’t stop talking about her girls and Bradley.

“Holly, she’s so tall. And sharp. Wow! And Phoebe, she’s so…so lovely. Like a little…angel.” Her smile is wistful.

“Things are really looking up for you, Rival,” Arena says.

“Yeah, they are,” she says, her eyes dreamy, her hands clasped under her chin. “Bradley, he’s so handsome, Arena. And he was so nice and…and to bring the girls back? And Scarlett, I mean, he ignored her chastising. That tells me I haven’t really lost him. I know I can get him back. I just know it.”

Rival’s too happy and high to notice the concerned looks being exchanged between Bear, Arena, and me.

“He said I looked good.
Good
.” She gives a small, embarrassed laugh. “I know I’m saying the same things over and over. Sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Bear says. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Your dream has come true, and it’s fantastic.”

She smiles. “You know what I think?”

All eyes turn to Rival.

“I think Bradley and I should renew our vows when we get back together.”

Nobody answers. Not even a token nod.

“Start fresh.” She looks at Arena. “You can be maid of honor, Arena.”

“Okay, thanks,” Arena says in a shrill voice.

“And you both…” she wags her finger between Bear and I, “can be best men.”

After a short, awkward pause, Bear says, “I have to lose weight then.”

“You do,” I say. “You fat bastard.”

Bear swings at me, but I duck and he hits the patio chair. As we’re laughing, my phone goes off.

“A text from Bradley,” I say.

“What?” Rival asks, leaning forward and looking into my face.

“He’s just invited me to dinner.”

“Oh.” She slumps back in her chair and falls silent.

Just then Bear’s phone goes off. “Bradley has also invited me to dinner,” he says, looking at his phone.

Rival’s eyebrows lift.

“And Arena,” Bear says, looking a little flustered.

We all fall silent for a few moments.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Rival says. “You guys check things out and give me a ‘report’ when you return.”

“Yeah,” Bear says, his head bobbing vigorously.

“Yeah,” I say, my head also nodding. “Of course.”

“Good idea,” Bear says.

Arena says nothing.

****

RITCHIE

“Why not?” I demand. “You’re turning down an invite to dinner at Bradley’s because of Rival?”

Arena sighs.

“We owe Brad a lot, you do realize that? I mean, I know you are siding with Rival, but if you don’t turn up…” I lift and drop my shoulders.

“I know,” she says in a morose voice. “On one hand, I feel indebted to Brad after all he did for you, but Rival, she’s my friend, my protégé, and …” She lets out a weary sigh, then hangs her head. “Rich, because of him she went to jail. That’s not cool by me. If Bear hadn’t intervened and spoke to Captain Warner, Rival would have faced a heap of charges. What about the AVO? That wasn’t necessary. I really don’t like what he did to Rival. It isn’t right. I try to stay neutral, but how can I possibly remain neutral when I was once sent to jail by my ex? How can I
not
be subjective when I see how broken she is?”

What could I say? Rival
is
a broken woman. I’ve seen her raw pain.

“Ritchie, I’m choosing not to go, and I sincerely hope this doesn’t cause a problem with Brad and you both.” She looks at Bear, a pained expression on her face.

He appears to give the situation some thought. “Babe, I’m going, ’cause as you said, Brad is our friend. But there’s no need for you to attend if you don’t want to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re my wife; you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

She flashes him a grateful smile.

Bear looks at me. “You! Leave my wife alone.”

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll explain, tell him you don’t like his girlfriend.”

Arena’s eyes bulge.

“Kidding!”

Her laugh is nervous.

“I’ll tell him you weren’t feeling
good
,” Bear says. “About what, I won’t say. I’ll just be vague. ‘Arena wasn’t feeling…
good
.’ That’s it. No lie there.” He grins. “Problem solved.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I mutter, then walk up to my sister and give her a one-armed hug.

Well, I respect how they feel, but Bradley is my friend. I will stand by him, no matter what.

Dinner at Bradley and Rival’s turns out to be more than dinner – it is an
event
, complete with caterers and waitstaff.

There are about thirty guests, mostly good-looking people. Really good-looking people.

Scarlett looks great in a white, clingy dress that shows off her arse and tits, and in her hair is a row of tiny white roses. Like she’s at a wedding. Bradley and his girls look great too, all polished and shining like new coins.

Rival is right; Scarlett and Bradley are really happy and contented. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but tonight the image of Rival’s blotchy face and red nose, sitting on the edge of my bed with her head in her hands, flits through my mind. Suddenly, I need air, and I quietly step outside.

The garden is beautifully lit, and a small water fountain pipes water to music. This is a beautiful home. Pity that it was all ripped away from Rival.

When I re-enter the house, Bradley is tapping a knife against a wine glass.

“Attention everybody, Scarlett and I have an announcement to make.” He reaches for Scarlett and draws her to him. “As you may have heard, we’re getting married!”

A roar goes through all the dinner guests.

Rival. Oh shit!

“Yes, December third.” Bradley smiles at his radiant bride-to-be, who raises her lips for a kiss. He obliges.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Brad sure is moving fast.

“Sweetheart, do you want to do the honors?” he says.

“Sure, my love!” She whips out a sheet of paper.

“All of you beautiful people have been especially invited here tonight, because…” she runs her index finger slowly across the room… “all of you are part of my bridal party.”

Another roar goes through the crowd, as if we’re all at an Oprah show and we’ve all won cars.

Scarlett calls out names and then informs them what
positions
they will be filling at the wedding. They get really excited, and some of them hug her as if she has given them a kidney or something.

Bear and I exchange confused looks.
What the fuck are we doing here?

Bradley, as if he is reading our minds, steps up and puts his arms around us.

“Will the two of you be my best men?”

I wasn’t expecting that. “Eh, yeah…sure,” I say.

“Great,” Bradley says and looks at my brother-in-law.

“S…ure,” Bear says.

With a pleased look on his face, Bradley backslaps the both of us.

“I would like Arena to be my maid of honor,” Scarlett says, appearing before Bear, smiling sweetly at him. “It would mean a lot to Bradley.” Her hands rest on her chest.

Looking like they asked him to sing karaoke or something, Bear mumbles and stumbles and shifts about in his size-fifty shoes (they look that big) under the gaze of some thirty-five pairs of eyes. “I’ll…I’ll tell her,” he finally splutters, his face flushed. Then he downs his whisky and looks around for a member of the waitstaff, glass raised.

I chuckle to myself. Let’s see Arena get out of this one.

More back slapping from Brad.

“And this is my lovely friend Enya,” Scarlett says to me, introducing me to a guest. “She’s one of my bridesmaids, and she will partner you at the wedding.”

Enya is around six feet tall, reed-thin, with dark hair severely pulled back into a coil at the base of her neck. Her hair looks really shiny and well behaved, and she wears a ton of make-up – thick, black eyeliner that flicks at the ends, bold, black eyebrows like horse shoes, and bright red lipstick. (Bright red lipstick – my pet peeve.)

“Nice to meet you,” I say to Enya in my most polite voice.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Enya says through red lips that barely move.

Bradley leans in and drops his voice. “He’s single, Enya.” He wriggles his eyebrows.

I blush like a girl, to my dismay. But Enya, she is cool. “Is he now?” she drawls in a low, throaty voice, and right away, I find myself looking for an Adam’s Apple.

I guess, with the aid of scotch, I could handle the evening if Enya wasn’t stuck to me. She is seated next to me at dinner, and when she talks to me, she keeps touching my arm or my thigh. I try to distract myself by scrutinizing her neck, searching for the bobbing of an Adam’s apple, but she’s too close to me to see it.

“So how do you know the bitch?” she asks, her hand stroking my thigh.

“What?” I squint at her. “Who?”

Her head jerks slightly in Scarlett’s direction. I look at Scarlett, in animated conversation with some of her guests, then at Enya. “Scar…?”

She nods.

“I…eh…Bradley and I…we…” I stop and peer at her. “Aren’t you friends?”

She shakes her head. “I’m from the agency.”

“What agency?”

“The modeling agency. She requested five girls to be her bridesmaids.”

“You’re kidding me!”

She puts her finger on her lips. “I’m not. It’s a trend these days. Hire everyone and everything, except the groom.”

“Wow!”

She leans in and whispers so close, her tongue grazes the inside of my ear. “She’s used me before.”

“For a wedding? She was married be—”

“For a threesome. I play nice, you know.”

I pull back to look at her, my ear feeling…well, like a slug is crawling inside it. “Really?”

She winks at me, and her hand creeps higher, lightly grazing my nuts.

“You don’t say?” Surreptitiously, I grab a table napkin and wipe my ear. “With Brad?”

She looks at Brad and cocks her head. “Not yet. Somebody is being territorial with him.”

“Aaahhh, I see. Right, right…” Fuck, I sound like a chick, I know, but I’m really taken aback by what I’m hearing, and I want to hear more. Wait till I tell Bear.

By the time we leave Brad and Scarlett, it’s midnight. I have Enya’s business card in my wallet, and my ear feels like it needs a chlorine rinse.

****

RITCHIE

“Getting married!” Arena does the
Home Alone
look and places both hands on her cheeks, her mouth open. “Ohmygod!”

“Shhhh! Here she comes,” Bear whispers.

Arena quickly opens the oven door and removes trays. For what, I have no idea.

“Morning, Ritchie,” Rival says in a sing-song voice as she grabs the pot of coffee. “Did you hear the good news?”

“What…good…news, Rival?” My voice is guarded. Does she consider their wedding to be good news? I toss a glance at Bear. His shrug is slight. I look at Arena. Her eyes are on Rival, a nervous look in them.

“I’m moving into Bun’s place this weekend. Just a temporary...” She cocks her head as she looks at us. “What?”

“Oh…oh…okay, that’s great,” I say. “Yeah. Wonderful.”

“Something…wrong?” Concern dances in Rival’s blue eyes.

“Rival, Ritchie has something to tell you,” Arena says in falsetto voice.

Rival looks at Arena, then at me. “What?” she asks, coffee pot in mid-air.

Silence.

Rival looks at me, unblinking.

“Rival, Um…Bradley, he’s getting married,” I say.

“Wha…?”

I nod. “Sorry to have to tell you this, but yes, he’s getting married in six weeks.”

A bewildered looks flits across Rival’s face. “Six…married?” her voice is a mere whisper. “Bradley?”

My head bobs. “Sorry, Rival.”

She places the coffee pot on the table, then carefully places the mug next to it while we all look on.

Arena steps forward, still clutching her baking trays. “I’m sorry…”

Slowly she sinks into a chair and stares at the floor, her shoulders rounding. I search my brain for something to say, but nothing comes to mind. For a few moments, none of us speak; we just stare at a visibly crushed Rival. Then she gets up and without a word, walks out of the room.

“Rival, wait!” Arena says.

Rival stops, then slowly turns around, eyebrows raised.