The Woman He Married (22 page)

“Come on now, let’s play again. Jocelyn, I’ll be your partner,” Patrick said in a hopeful voice as they arrived at the bar.

John handed Josie a Corona Light with a lime wedge peaking out of the top. “If
anyone’s
gonna
be Jocelyn’s partner, it’s going to be me.”

Josie took the beer and hopped up onto the stool next to him. “I think I’m ready for a break.” She set the bottle down in front of her.

Dragging Trisha off her stool,
Lydia
said, “Come on, you be my partner. Andy won’t play with me.”

Josie watched with satisfaction as Trisha glanced back over her shoulder at John with a sulky look, like she’d just been shunned.

John nodded toward the
Corona
. “Aren’t you going to drink that?”

“
Naw
, I had one earlier, with supper.”

“One?”
John faked a surprised expression, gripping his heart with his hand.

She glared at him. “How many times do I have to tell ya’ll that I am not an
alcoholic!
Just most of the time
I
choose
to drink myself into oblivion—that’s all,” she said, turning the bottle around on the bar, making watery rings with the condensation.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay—okay. I believe you, I reckon,” he conceded. “When did you get so good at golf?”

“What? I taught
you
how to play,” Josie retorted, half joking, half insulted.

“The Judge taught me how to play.”

“Daddy was a horrid golfer. You didn’t start playing well until after we got married.” Josie shook her head, remembering how her father used to get so competitive that he would pretty much beat himself, swearing and throwing his expensive clubs around. Not having any sons, the Judge had taken Josie golfing and hunting at an early age, also teaching her how to throw a football—and that winning was the only option.

“I suppose you’re right, but you were never
that
good.”

“Well, I’ve got to do something constructive with my time. Gina and I play two-three times a week at the club—sometimes more.”

“Gina plays golf…at the club?”

“Yeah.
Where else can she spend time with her best friend?” Josie pointed a flattered finger at herself. “And mercilessly mock rich people at the same time?” John still looked doubtful so she added, “We won the doubles tournament last spring;
you
know that. We’re entered again this year.”

John looked mystified. “Doubles tournament?
Really?”

“You’re kidding.
Right?”
Josie laughed; he must be teasing her, but his expression didn’t change. “You’re
not
joking.” Her smile slowly melted, replaced with contempt. “The trophy’s sitting right there in the study.
Has been for nearly a year now.”
Josie’s tone turned harsh with the realization that, not only did John know nothing about her life prior to their marriage, but he’d also been equally uninterested in anything concerning her since she had become his wife.

“What’s the big deal?” John tried to brush her off.

“Unbelievable! Have you paid one ounce of attention to anything that has to do with me,
ever
?”

Glancing cautiously toward the others now congregated back at the dartboard, John warned, “Keep your voice down.”

Josie didn’t keep her voice down. She was done with being hushed. “It’s all about you, isn’t it, John? What am I to you, anyway?” She scoffed.
“Some kind of necessary evil?”

“Don’t be ridiculous; you know that’s not true. Keep your voice down; people are starting to look.” John slumped down, focusing on his beer bottle, avoiding the stares that were turning in their direction.

Josie hopped off her stool. “They can look all they want for all I care.”

“Jocelyn, sit back down. You’re not going anywhere,” John hissed. “Come on, don’t be like this…drink your beer.”

Smiling ironically, Josie said, “I think I’ve had plenty, thanks.” Striding off, she smiled audaciously at the questioning faces of John’s friends.

She wasn’t a bit surprised when he didn’t come after her.

* * * *

Hearing the soft whoosh of the ocean, Josie made her way to the beach, looking to clear her head.
How long, Josie? How long are you
gonna
put up with this?
 
Josie cursed herself for letting him draw her in, for swooning like a giddy adolescent at his very touch, his kiss.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
Josie beat her palm against her forehead.

The beach was all but abandoned with only the low lights of the resort illuminating the white foam of the waves as they broke along the shore. A band playing Beach Boys hits very badly could be heard, the music wafting lightly from the poolside bar. Removing her sandals, Josie dug her toes into the sand as she walked. Then, choosing a spot close to the water, she lowered herself down onto the cool, moist sand.

Leaning back on her elbows, she looked up into the night sky and located the Big Dipper, then followed the spout over to the North Star shining brightly in the distance. She concentrated on the twinkling light, wishing the sky had the answers. For eleven years she’d allowed John to ignore her, discount her feelings, her ideas, and her self-worth. What’s worse was how she gave her heart—her soul—to him, all of it, without a fight. Why?
Because of his kiss, his looks?
No,
I’m
not
that shallow.

It was his passion—his fight—his tenacity to overcome a meager childhood, pulling himself up and refusing to make excuses, never letting anyone push him back down. Josie wanted to be a part of him, to protect him, to see him succeed. She believed that with her family connections and his drive, together they could “rule” the world—make a difference. But it didn’t happen—he took what he needed from her and then left her wanting, waiting to be included, and finally, refusing to let her share in his dream.

After watching the waves roll in, the water moving closer to her feet with each breaking swell, Josie lowered her head down onto the sand. Hoping something with eight legs and pinchers didn’t crawl into her hair, she tried to relax as her mind raced in every direction.

She thought of the Judge and how he bullied her mother all those years. How, although Carol would deny it, she seemed happier now that he was gone. How Josie grew up feeling like an outsider because she wasn’t interested in the “normal” things like proms, cheerleading, or mindless boys who really only wanted sex.

How not much changed when they grew into men.

Then she thought of the years with Brian during college and law school, how they shared everything and what he must have felt when she abandoned him, choosing to marry John instead. She didn’t even get a chance to speak to Brian before the wedding. And how, upon his return from
Africa
, Brian had simply packed up her stuff and returned the boxes to her in the mail. He didn’t deserve that.

Lastly, her children at home, whom she was missing
terribly—they were the only positive aspect Josie could determine that had come from her marriage
.

She felt a tear escape from the corner of her eye. Wiping it away, she grabbed a shell, and throwing it at the disobliging North Star, she pushed herself up off the sand—
Together
, or separate, if John can live his dream…so can I.

* * * *

Following the sound of the music, Josie made her way through the pool and bar area, now bustling with evening partiers.
Tiki
torches and Chinese lanterns added a soft glow to the lush landscape surrounding the Olympic-sized pool. The water inside the pool rocked gently, while underwater lighting showcased the sea nymphs, fish, and crustaceans tiled on the bottom and sides.

Squeezing between spiked-heeled women in slinky dresses and men with open collars nursing tropical drinks, Josie emerged at the end of the bar and found herself face-to-face with
Denton
. Wearing a crisp dress shirt, lightweight slacks, and sexy aftershave,
Denton
didn’t look at all surprised to see her.

“Well, good evening,” he slurred, saluting her with a scotch on the rocks. “You come to join me?” He flashed a blindingly-white smile—his blue eyes were slightly bloodshot, but somehow he was still mesmerizingly handsome.

“No.
Hadn’t planned on it, just heading back up to the room.”

His baleful sneer made Josie feel a bit awkward. She tugged on her golf shirt, indicating that she really wasn’t dressed appropriately.

“Where’s your husband?” he asked. Then, looking Josie up and down licentiously, he said, “What a waste, a beautiful
and
intelligent woman such as
yourself
,” before turning to take another sip from his tumbler.

Feeling more uneasy, Josie asked, “Am I missing something?”

Denton
looked Josie right in the eye. “So it would appear.” After holding her gaze intently, he broke away, going back to his drink. “Why is it that, when it comes to marriage, the things that should be plain as day are the most difficult to recognize?”

As she watched him take another woeful swig, Josie was about to ask him if he was okay, when two very young, quite leggy women pushed past her from behind. Each took a place on either side of
Denton
, and said in unison, “We’re ready whenever you are.”

Giving Josie his best Casanova smile,
Denton
said, “Duty calls.” Then, after sliding off the bar stool and draining his glass, he wrapped one arm around each girl and sauntered off.

Josie stood immobile, mouth literally hanging open, watching them disappear into the crowd. How could a man who was married to possibly the most beautiful woman—Trisha—in the universe…or, the State of
Alabama
in the very least, be out
catting
around with other women?
Okay, maybe he just
has a very large appetite for…
Ew
.

Suddenly feeling rather slimy, she continued on her way up to the room, now looking forward to that shower more than ever.

* * * *

Clean and comfy in her pajama pants and tank-top, Josie sat on the bed, chewing her bottom lip while staring down at the phone resting in her lap. During her shower, she’d tried to decipher
Denton
’s cryptic message from the bar. Deep down, she knew what
Denton
was saying, but she refused to believe that anything sexual was going on between John and Trisha. But then, John was a man, and she had never known him to go longer than a week, maybe ten days without… And they hadn’t…in months.

After some intense concentration, Josie pushed the images of John and Trisha having sex from her mind. Releasing her almost bloody lip from its torture, Josie dialed the phone.

He answered on the first ring.

Josie was startled and her voice crackled. “Brian!”

“Josie, is that you?”

“Um, Uh huh, ya, it’s well, me… Josie.”
Good Lord, I sound like an idiot.

“Baby, you all right?”
His response caught both of them off guard.
“Oh, sorry.
Old habits.”
Brian recovered. “What’s up, you home yet?”

“Um, no.”
Say something besides “um.” It’s Brian for heaven’s sake.

“Damn, I can really use you on the Henry case.” Brian was defending a young black kid accused of shooting an old white man in a gas station a while back. The man’s wife and grandchildren were the only witnesses and swear that it was this young Slidell Henry who did the shooting, but Brian believed he was innocent.