The Man She Married (6 page)

Ever since the fiasco in the brew pub the atmosphere in the Walker household had been so tense you could cut it with a knife. Yes, Clay was jealous, but the reality wasn’t as thrilling as Maizie had imagined when she started her stupid scheme. And thanks to Mama they were now unwilling participants in a country club fund-raiser.

“When can we go home?” Clay whispered.

“We can leave after the auction. I donated a makeover and I want to see who wins it.”

Clay pulled on his collar as if it was choking him. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Stop that.” Maizie swatted her husband’s hand. The man cleaned up quite nicely. In fact, he was absolutely gorgeous in his charcoal suit with the crisp white shirt and silk tie. Actually in his normal attire of faded jeans and chambray shirt he was mighty fine, too. It was a shame she was still to mad at him to tell him so.

“You know how I hate these dress-up things,” he groused.

Maizie opened her mouth for a rebuke when someone ran a finger down her bare back.

“What—” It took a couple of seconds to process what was happening and another heartbeat to think, “Oh, crap.”

Maizie turned so fast she smacked Clay with her purse. “Trip, what are you doing here?”

“I work—”

“Get your hands off my wife, pretty boy.” Clay pushed Maizie aside to confront Trip.

“Stop it!” The last thing Maizie needed was a brawl at the country club. Mama would have a fit.

Though Trip briefly looked taken aback he quickly recovered. “Mr. Walker, it’s nice seeing you again.” The words were appropriate though the tone was definitely sarcastic.

“Maizie, I hope to see you back in class soon.” He flashed her a toothpaste-white smile before strolling off.

“What was that all about?” Clay demanded. “He had his hands all over you. Do you have something going on with him?”

“What do you mean, ‘Going on with him’? Are you accusing me of cheating?” Maizie jabbed a finger at Clay’s chest. Smoke was about ready to spew from her ears.

“He teaches tennis. Nothing more. I like taking lessons. That’s why I bought all those new outfits.” Maizie slammed her hands on her hips and gave him the “don’t mess with me” look that meant he was in major trouble.

Clay knew he was skating on thin ice, but jealousy had obliterated all common sense.

“What outfits? We’re not discussing clothes, we’re talking about some smarmy twit touching you.” As
soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew he’d made a huge mistake.

“What outfits? What outfits! The ones with the short skirts and halter tops. The ones where my boobies hang out for everyone to see.” Maizie gestured graphically toward her breasts. “You remember these, don’t you?”

The pitch of her voice went up with every sentence until she was doing a great Betty Boop imitation.

Clay grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the exit. “People are listening,” he hissed. If Maizie wanted to have a knock-down, drag-out fight, fine. But there was no way in hell he’d do it in front of half the town. The rose garden was probably deserted so that would have to do.

“Would you mind telling me what that was all about?” he asked once they were away from the main building. Although Clay was trying to be patient, he was almost at his wits’ end.

Maizie glared at him. “You don’t pay any attention to me. I can dress up, or I can dress down, or I can get buck naked and nothing makes any difference. How
do
I get your attention?”

Clay sighed. “How about acting like a grown-up instead of a spoiled brat?” Oh, brilliant. Sleep deprivation had turned him into the village idiot.

Initially, Maizie was speechless. But then she started stammering and turned bright red.

Crap!

“Look.” Clay took a deep breath. This wasn’t the best time to tell her about their financial situation but better late than never.

“Our company is on the verge of going belly-up. All
I’ve been able to think about lately is how to save our rear ends.”

Maizie didn’t utter a word. She didn’t have to; her face said it all. At least she wasn’t screaming.

“We realized that doing the engineering for the highway was almost too big for us to handle, but we bid on it anyway. In the past six months we’ve had problems with the state, the county and the contractor. As a result of all the confusion and the planned slow downs, we haven’t been paid by the contractor in months. And we won’t be anytime soon.”

Clay had assumed Maizie would be sympathetic, or at the very least understanding.

“You dolt! Why didn’t you tell me? You were going through something like that and you didn’t let me know? I’m your wife,” she screeched. “We’re supposed to share everything. Everything!”

Clay almost expected her to deck him. Why was
she
getting all frothed up? He was the injured party, wasn’t he?

“Calm down and I’ll explain.”

But Maizie wasn’t ready to listen. She closed her eyes to tune him out. “I don’t think I want you in my house right now. Wait, change that to I know I don’t want to see you in my bed.” Even though she made the announcement quietly, Clay could sense the fiery volcano bubbling beneath the surface.

That did it. “Fine. If that’s how you feel about it, that’s just peachy. I’ll find someone to take you home.”

“Fine!” She stomped her foot. “Don’t bother to come by for your stuff because it’ll be gone. Do you hear me? Gone, goodbye, adios.”

“You’d better not do anything with my things. If you don’t want to live with me, that’s great, but don’t mess with my possessions.”

“What valuable possessions, your Little League trophy?”

“Yeah, my Little League trophy.” Clay stepped back to take a deep breath.

“I’m leaving.” He had to get out of there before he said something they couldn’t recover from. They’d gone from okay to catastrophic in two point two seconds. How had it happened? And even more important, where did they go from here?

Maizie didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the concrete bench before Liza appeared. She’d ruined everything. When was she going to learn to control her temper?

“What’s going on out here?” Liza asked as she put an arm around Maizie’s shoulders.

That did it. Maizie broke into sobs. “I’ve made such a mess of things,” she wailed, punctuating the flood of tears with a series of hiccups.

“Honey, what happened?”

“Clay and I had a huge fight. He walked off and left me here.”

“A fight? Is that all?”

Maizie shook her head. “I told him I didn’t trust him and I didn’t want to live with him.”

“Good gravy! Why would you say that?”

Maizie explained as much about the fight as she could. It was almost like childbirth—it couldn’t be explained and shouldn’t be remembered.

“Is that why he wanted me to take you home?”

“I suppose so. Did he say where he was going?”
Maizie sniffed. Darn! Her nose was running like a faucet and she didn’t have a tissue or a sleeve. When things went bad, they went bad in a big way.

“Let’s take the back exit,” Liza suggested. “You have raccoon eyes and your face is all red and puffy. If anyone sees you like this, you’ll be the talk of the town.”

“Okay, let’s go. I’m sure Clay will be home when I get there.”

But not only was Clay gone when they arrived, so was his car, his golf clubs and most of his clothes. Where was he?

Liza gave Maizie a pitying look as they went back to the kitchen following a full house inspection.

“What?”

“Honey, I hate to tell you this, but he’s not coming back. At least not tonight. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“What would Zack say?”

Liza pulled out her cell phone. “Let me see.”

“Please don’t. I’ll be okay.” Not really, but at her age did she want a baby-sitter?

“Zack, honey,” Liza said into her phone, “I’m going to spend the night with Maizie.”

There was a lengthy silence on Liza’s end of the line. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I love you.”

After she disconnected she went to the refrigerator. “Where’s the wine? We’re going to have a slumber party. Then we’ll come up with a solution for this fiasco.”

The twins worked their way through two bottles of wine, a bowl of popcorn, a plate of nachos and a pan of brownies before Liza had an epiphany.

“You’re going to court him! He’s jealous. That’s
good. It means he loves you. So make him feel like the most special man in the world. Take him out to dinner, then to the movies and end up at the old necking spot. Approach this as if you were seventeen again.”

“How am I going to do that when I don’t even know where he is?” This time Maizie’s hiccup was courtesy of too much wine.

“You leave that to me. I have connections with the local cops.” Liza giggled. “Did you know I have an intimate relationship with the sheriff?”

“Yep, I got that.” Maizie yawned. “I think I’d better hit the sheets. I’m already going to have the mother of all headaches in the morning.”

I
T WAS AFTER TEN BEFORE
Maizie finally managed to open her eyes. Her head was pounding and her mouth was as dry as the Mojave Desert. If there was a God in the heavens, Liza wouldn’t be faring any better.

Maizie slowly put one foot in front of the other until she finally stumbled into the kitchen in search of a Coke and some saltines. She was rubbing the icy can on her throbbing forehead when Liza wandered in. Little Miss Sunshine was talking on her cell.

“Who told you?” Liza pointed at the can and then the refrigerator.

Maizie knew exactly what she wanted—salvation in the form of sugar and caffeine.

“Do you know how long he plans to be there?” Liza popped the top on the Coke and slugged back a huge drink.

“I’ll be home shortly. Okay, see you soon.” She disconnected and immediately grabbed a cracker.

“You’re not going to believe this.”

“What?” Maizie was expecting to hear that her husband was camped out at the extended stay motel on the highway.

“Clay’s moved into Mama and Daddy’s garage apartment.”

“He’s done what?” That was the last place she would’ve expected him to go.

“He saw Daddy as he was leaving the country club last night and our father invited him to move in.” Liza was apparently having a hard time believing it, too.

“So where do I go from here? My husband has left me and my father is in collusion with the jerk.”

“I still think we have a solid plan.”

“Why don’t you give me the details again?” Maizie was a wee bit fuzzy about last night.

“You’re going to court him, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Maizie wasn’t quite sure she had agreed, but she had a vague memory of the discussion.

T
WO DAYS LATER
M
AIZIE
still hadn’t heard from her errant sweetie. She could call him, of course, but he was the one who had moved out. Shouldn’t he make the first move?

Damn it! Maizie was sipping her third cup of coffee and working up a big mad. If Clay thought she would be sitting here when he was ready, he was sadly mistaken. As for the rest of his stuff, well, she knew what to do with that! There was a perfectly good curb just waiting for it.

Intellectually, Maizie realized she was making a huge mistake. She simply couldn’t help herself. It was a caffeine-induced psychosis, that’s what it was.

Out went the baseball trophies—including the national Little League championship—the sports equipment, the treadmill—that one took some muscle—and the remainder of his clothes.

Maizie looked at the pile of her husband’s belongings and slapped her hands together. The feeling of satisfaction lasted until she broke into tears and ran back to the house as if Cujo was nipping at her heels.

Several cars slowed and a couple even stopped. They were obviously trolling for free stuff. Free stuff—where did they get that idea? Was there a sign out there saying
Take Me?
Of course not. Mama would have a fit.

Maizie grabbed her cell and ran out to shoo away the vultures. A guy in a baggy pair of pants and a faded wife beater had a pair of Clay’s jeans in his hand. Not that his fat rear would ever fit into those Wranglers.

“Get away from my husband’s clothes.”

“Lady, someone put this stuff out for the garbage.” He gave her a dirty look before hocking a loogie at her feet.

Gag.

“That’s not trash. My husband’s coming to pick it up.” Maizie held up her phone hoping to scare him off. “I’m calling the cops.”

What do you know—it worked. She wouldn’t be surprised if the guy was wanted by the police. When the redneck jumped into his Camaro and hit the gas, gravel sprayed everywhere.

Maizie was congratulating herself when she spied something lying by the curb. It was metal, it was mangled and it was Clay’s Little League trophy.

Oh, dear Lord. He’d never forgive her.

She bent over to pick up the pieces. “Thanks, buddy,” she muttered.

Maizie punched in Clay’s office number. Please, please, please answer the phone.

“Clay Walker.”

She was at a loss for words. How was she going to explain this? “Uh, Clay. I put your stuff out on the curb and some people have already tried to take things.”

She didn’t want him to lose all that sporting equipment. “I stopped them but you need to get over here right away. I have to go to work.”

There was such a long pause Maizie was afraid they’d been disconnected.

“You did what?” He said it so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

“Your things are on the lawn and some people have already stopped to rummage through them.”

“I thought that’s what you said.” He hung up without another word.

Well, crumb! Maizie stared at the phone, expecting it to ring. Ten minutes later Clay roared up in his pickup. Without even glancing at the house, he tossed his belongings in the vehicle, muttering the entire time. Maizie couldn’t hear what he was saying but certain words were easy to lip-read.