Thy Neighbor's Wife (26 page)

just…she just gets me, you know? She’s warm and she’s kind. She’s

talented, she’s beautiful. When I’m with her, I feel like I can be who

I am. There are no roles I’m expected to play, no images she wants

me to uphold. I can just be myself. It’s so…” She searched for the

right word. “Freeing. It’s freeing, Dad. I wish you could have had

that with Mom or somebody, because it’s the most amazing feeling

in the world.”

And what about Eric? He would say it without accusation, but

the point would be made.

She had no answer to that. She sighed heavily, then sat in

silence, soaking up the fresh air and the warmth of the sun. The

birds chirped nearby and the leaves on the trees rustled gently, but

the peaceful sounds did nothing to relax her mind.

“I don’t know what to do, Daddy.” Her voice was small, barely

audible. She obviously didn’t expect an answer from her dead

father, but she found herself straining to hear his voice anyway.

After a long while, she took a deep breath, then stood to go,

thanking her father for listening and promising she’d be back again

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soon. She was almost to her car when she felt in her pocket for her

keys and realized they were missing.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath as she retraced her

steps back. As she approached her father’s plot, she noticed a slim,

dark woman crouching down near it.

She was putting fresh daisies in the holder.

Jennifer’s heart hammered, as she was sure she’d never laid

eyes on the woman before. She approached slowly, not wanting to

intrude on the woman’s privacy even though the curiosity of who

she might be was killing her. The woman wiped an errant tear from

her face and her shoulders convulsed in what could only have been

a quiet sob. Jennifer stopped, embarrassed that she was spying on

the poor woman. She dropped her gaze to the ground.

Her keys were in the grass by her feet.

She stooped to pick them up as the woman pressed her fingers

to her lips, then to the grave marker. The fact that she’d been in love

with her father was so glaringly apparent, it almost knocked Jenni-

fer over with its weight.

She stood riveted to the spot as the woman stood and headed in

Jennifer’s direction. She met Jennifer’s gaze for a short second,

then lowered her red-rimmed eyes apologetically, wiping at her

dampened cheeks. Jennifer smiled and, much to her surprise, spoke

to the woman.

“I’m sorry. You obviously cared very much about him.”

The woman stopped and nodded, not the least bit startled that

a perfect stranger had said something to her. She studied Jennifer

carefully as if wondering if she was supposed to recognize her.

“Very much. He was a wonderful man.”

Even close up, she was unfamiliar to Jennifer. She was a plain

woman with no spectacular features except the noticeable kindness

in her hazel eyes. “Was he your husband?” She couldn’t believe

she’d actually gotten the question out, but for some reason, she felt

the need to find out more about this woman’s relationship with her

father.

The woman chuckled sadly. “Oh no. Only in my dreams.” She

looked wistfully back at the gravesite. “I could never get him to just

follow his heart.”

Jennifer blinked at her. The lack of response didn’t seem to faze

the woman any more than Jennifer’s initial comment had. She

sighed with sadness and went on her way, leaving Jennifer standing

in the cemetery, absorbing the fact that her father had had a lover

she’d known nothing about.

* * *

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That night’s volleyball game was a disaster. It was an early

game, six o’clock, and the first time Alex and Jennifer had been in

close proximity with one another since the fiasco on Alex’s deck a

few nights earlier.

Aside from a nod at one another and a quiet hello, no words

were exchanged between the two. Jackie noticed this right away and

narrowed her eyes with suspicion, but said nothing.

Alex didn’t play well when she was distracted or frustrated and

that night, she couldn’t seem to bump or spike the ball cleanly to

save her life. Her returns went shooting off at sharp angles. The tim-

ing on her blocks was way off. Her spikes went either directly into

the net or so far out of bounds, the opposite team had to sprint after

the ball to prevent it from bouncing into the water. Her lousy level

of play only served to frustrate her further and she snapped at her

teammates when they tried to encourage her. Because of that, they

began playing in silence, the kiss of death in any team sport.

Jennifer played just as poorly. Her fingers were stiff and her

sets had no height, assuming she was lucky enough to actually get

beneath the ball. Her legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate and her

movements on the court felt sluggish and slow. Each time a set

didn’t get to Alex, the taller woman would huff with annoyance,

which only ticked Jennifer off and made her play worse.

Their opponents were not that great. A win shouldn’t have

been difficult, but by the middle of the second game, all six players

were drenched in sweat and completely stressed out from the ani-

mosity permeating the court. Jackie was getting frustrated for her

team. As she watched her best friend and the newest member of the

team, she quickly put two and two together and knew immediately

that whatever was going on between the pair, it was more than the

simple crush Alex had claimed. Jennifer had never played this badly

with them; something was obviously bothering her. Alex had her

moods, but she was usually able to pull herself out of them with the

help of her teammates. Now, she seemed to be instigating the poor

volleyball performance, rather than trying to help fix it. The more

Jackie thought about it—and the fact that Alex had lied to her—the

more agitated she became.

Steve smacked a beautiful serve. The other team received it

cleanly, then put it up for a spike. As Alex went up to block, Jenni-

fer crouched behind her to cover. As it had been throughout the

match, Alex’s timing was a little off. The ball hit her hands, then

dribbled down her arms. Jennifer dove near Alex’s feet to save the

point, but as she did so, Alex stepped backwards, also flailing for

the ball. She fell back over Jennifer and the two of them lay

sprawled in the sand, panting and annoyed, legs tangled like wet

spaghetti.

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“You can stay in your own part of the court, you know,” Alex

muttered.

“Yeah, well, your blocks obviously need all the help they can

get,” Jennifer shot back.

Jackie squatted down and was very much in their space. Her

eyes flashed with anger and when she spoke, her voice was no more

than an incensed hiss. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with

you two, but I suggest you get a grip on yourselves right now,

because you’re pissing off every last one of us. Get your shit

together and play like you’re members of this team, God damn it.”

Alex and Jennifer exchanged embarrassed glances and stood,

brushing the sand from themselves, looking properly chastened.

The game continued.

* * *

The weeds didn’t stand a chance, not given the state Jennifer

was in. She’d come directly home from the beach, covered with

sand and sweat and buzzing with nervous energy from her frustra-

tions with Alex on the court. It was still light out and she needed to

do something or she was sure she’d simply explode where she stood.

She had discovered gardening to be very therapeutic and was

amused by what one could learn when doing something one’s self,

rather than hiring an outside party to do it instead. Her family had

always hired gardeners when she was growing up. Getting her

hands dirty was certainly not something that had interested Jenni-

fer’s mother. Jennifer, on the other hand, had spent this summer

realizing that digging her fingers into the earth, smelling the rich-

ness of the soil, and helping along the beauty of nature was one of

the most calming activities in which she’d ever taken part.

So she sat in her flower bed that evening, pulling weeds and

loosening the soil around the thriving blossoms, trying hard to quiet

her brain. Between the woman at the cemetery, her dilemma over

Alex, and the disastrous volleyball game, her head was buzzing

loudly and all she wished for was an on/off switch for her mind.

She had so many questions—questions that could only be

answered by the woman with the daisies.

How long had she been my father’s lover?

Was he in love with her?

Did my mother know?

God, did they have any children?

She yanked viciously at an unsuspecting dandelion, unsure

how to feel. On the one hand, she was furious with her father for

cheating on her mother. She’d always thought of him as an honor-

able and noble man and this put a big chink in his armor. On the

Thy Neighbor’s Wife 141

other hand, she knew her parents didn’t have a warm and fuzzy

relationship. She knew her mother could be cold, distant, and

unemotional, so there was a part of Jennifer that actually applauded

her father for finding somebody to love him the way he deserved.

She looked up and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

That was when she noticed Alex sitting on her deck. She’d obvi-

ously decided not to go out with the team either. They made eye

contact for barely a split second, both of them shifting their gazes

away at the same time.

Another weed fell victim to Jennifer’s wrath.

Before she had time to delve into the quadrant of her brain

labeled “Alex,” Jennifer was interrupted by her husband’s voice.

“Jen!” He was in the house and he did not sound happy.

“Great,” Jennifer mumbled. She had too much churning in her

head already. She had no desire to add Eric to the mix. She contin-

ued to weed.

“Jen!” he shouted again as he stepped out onto the deck and

spotted his wife. His steps were purposeful as he marched toward

her. She looked up at his approach and the scowl on his face made

the hairs on her arms stand on end. She got to her feet, feeling like

she had a better shot at handling his obvious anger if she was stand-

ing.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” he snapped, causing her to flinch. “Did you

talk to my father?” His eyes flashed with fury and his face was

flushed.

Oh, shit, Jennifer thought. Here we go.

“Um…” she stalled, trying to figure out how she was going to

gracefully get through this one.

“Did you talk to my father recently?” He annunciated each

word slowly and carefully through clenched teeth. Jennifer had

never been afraid of her husband before, but his anger was so

intense that it caused a little spark of fear to ignite in the pit of her

stomach.

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“And did you tell him that I didn’t really want to take over the

firm?”

She grimaced. “Yes?”

“Jesus Christ, Jennifer!” He threw up his hands in exasperated

anger. “What the hell were you thinking? What are you trying to do

to me?”

“Eric, I—”

“Are you trying to destroy me? My future?” He was yelling at

the top of his lungs, his anger feeding his volume.

“No, of course not.” The spark of fear had become a full-blown

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fire at that point and she tried to subtly take a step back from him.

The wild-eyed expression on his face matched the booming level of

his voice and she was torn between being embarrassed by what the

neighborhood was hearing and being frightened of him.

“He thinks you’re right. He agrees with you, God damn you,

and he’s exploring other alternatives.” He glared at her. She felt the

bottom drop out of her stomach. “You had no right, Jen. No right.”

“I was trying to be honest with him, Eric. He was worried

about you. He thought you were too stressed out. He was afraid

he’d dumped too much on you.” Her voice was pleading, but Eric

wouldn’t look at her, tried to turn her words off. “You haven’t been

happy since this whole thing started, since he started training you

to take over. I just want you to be happy.”

“You want me to be happy? Are you sure this doesn’t have any-

thing to do with you? That there are no ulterior motives here?” His

voice dripped with accusation.

“What?”

“I’m not stupid, Jen. I see things. I know things.”

Jennifer’s stomach roiled; the sense of dread she felt was

almost too much to bear. “What are you talking about?”

His back was to Alex’s house, but he jerked his thumb in that

direction. “Do you think I’m unaware of your little girlfriend over

there? I know your history. Don’t forget that.”

Jennifer’s eyes hardened. “Do you really want to do this? Do

you really want to get into the subject of infidelity, Eric? Because

I’m not stupid either.”

His face registered surprise, then guilt, but they only seemed to

fuel his anger and he quickly steered the conversation back to its