I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and
groaned. What attracted me to Paul anyway? He wasn’t even my type. What the hell does a forty-two year old woman
want with a twenty-eight year old? Hardly even a man. Still a kid. Young enough to almost be my son.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I hated that I had
given in. Hated the guilt that seeped into me. I’d never be able to live with
this.
Sexy though Paul was, with his black curly
hair and tanned muscular body, we had absolutely nothing in common. Paul,
single, athletic and outgoing, bordered almost on the point of being crude.
Oh,
he treated everyone polite enough, and all the women at the club fawned all
over him. Maybe that was the problem — he acted like God’s gift to women.
So what in the world made me give into his
seduction? Clearly, I hadn’t been
thinking straight.
“Thinking straight?” I covered my head with
the pillow. “Honey, you weren’t thinking at all.” My voice sounded harsh,
raspy. I rolled over, eased myself up, sat on the edge of the bed, and pushed
back the wave of nausea and dizziness. “Pull yourself together, girl. You have
to think this through.”
Think, I couldn’t even focus. And how was I
going to face Andrew when he came home later? I wasn’t good at lying, never had
been. Andrew would guess the minute he saw me. Damn, damn, damn, what had I
done?
Worse, why?
I shuddered at the memory of last night.
Paul hadn’t spoken a single word the whole time we were together. He wasn’t
tender or gentle like Andrew. Our love making had been quick, fierce, almost
animalistic. I held my head in my hands. Couldn’t even call it lovemaking?
Nothing more than sex. Pure unadulterated sex. Stupid, that’s what it was,
plain, old, every day stupid. My stomach turned over, and tears slid down my
cheeks.
Shamed and disgusted, I lay back down,
curled into a ball, and wanted to disappear. Go back to sleep. Make it go away,
a bad dream. But it wasn’t a bad dream, and it wasn’t going to go away.
I
had to get up, move on, had to work through it. Forget it happened. Yeah, like
that was possible. Never, in this lifetime. More importantly, I had to keep
Andrew from finding out. Right now, I needed to get up. There was much to do
today. Lying in bed and hiding wouldn’t
solve anything. Much as the thought appealed to me. There were errands to run
and a dinner engagement with my friend Jenny.
Oh,
crap, Jenny.
How
could I even explain this to my friend?
Jenny, who knew everything wasn’t all peaches and cream between me and
Andrew lately, certainly wouldn’t suspect ‘little prude, Meg Baldwin’ of
anything like this. I really wasn’t a prude, but Jenny thought of me that way.
She held me up on some kind of pedestal.
Seemed like everyone did. Heck, how had I earned that reputation anyway? I’d
never been Miss Goody Two Shoes. I did the things most college students did.
Drank too much, skipped classes sometimes. Shoot, there’d been a lot of skipped
classes since I didn’t really want to go to college.
But, hadn’t I portrayed myself as the
perfect wife with the perfect life? Nothing about me seemed perfect now. I had
committed the ultimate sin, cheated on my husband. Cheated on my family.
Cheated myself.
If someone had told me twenty years ago I’d
be in this predicament, I would have laughed at them. Even a week, no two days
ago, it would have cracked me up. Tears swelled in my eyes. I swiped them away.
How was I supposed to act normal around my friend or, for that matter, around
anyone? Nope, nothing else to do but postpone our dinner.
What
good would that do? I’d have to see Jenny eventually, and then what? May as
well go. Get it over and done with. I’d muddle through somehow. Besides,
confession was good for the soul,
Wasn’t it?
I didn’t have to tell Jenny everything.
In fact, I didn’t have to tell Jenny
anything. Like that was possible. Jenny’d see right through me. Always had. She
used to laugh at me in college. I had talked about nothing but marriage and
having babies. That’s all I ever wanted.
If my parents hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have gone to college in the
first place. My dream was to find the perfect man, have a dozen kids, and
become the perfect wife and mother.
Well, I had found the perfect man — Andrew.
We were the perfect match. Weren’t we? If Andrew found out, he’d never forgive me.
Not that I’d blame him. I couldn’t even forgive myself.
I eased off the bed and stumbled to the
shower. “Damn it!” I bumped into the rocker along the way. My head pounded with
every step like it was going to explode. Stopping in front of the large mirror
over the vanity and half afraid to look, my reflection stared back at me.
Other than a tangled mass of dark brown
hair that desperately needed a color touch-up, I didn’t look any different.
Even through my bloodshot eyes, my face looked normal. A bit pale, some dark
circles, but under the circumstances that didn’t surprise me.
What had I expected to see anyway? A sign
on my forehead – cheating wife? I rubbed some cleansing cream on the dark
circles under my eyes, relieved to see most of the black came off. Phew, just mascara. I wiped off the face cream and turned on the
shower.
It took a bit of effort to step into the
tub - my whole body ached. Pulling the curtain, I shivered at the initial shock
of cold water. Finally, a hot steady stream rushed over me, but all the
scrubbing didn’t take the dirty feeling from my body. Didn’t take the feeling
of Paul’s hands away. They’d be forever etched in my mind. Like an octopus he
was. Couldn’t keep his hands off of me. The thought of it repulsed me. Why had I
been so attracted last night?
Guilt ridden and red from scrubbing, I
snapped off the water, took a deep breath, and swallowed the nausea, rising in my
throat. I stepped out of the shower and heard my daughter’s voice in the hall.
“Mom, Jason and I are leaving now,” Julie
yelled. “Don’t forget we won’t be home for dinner.”
Oh God, the kids. What if they found out?
I wrapped my robe around me, tied it at the
waist, and hurried to the doorway. Not
only had I betrayed Andrew, I had betrayed my kids.
Hugging my fifteen–year-old daughter and
giving her an extra hard squeeze, I barely got the words out. “Okay honey, you
and Jason have fun. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Julie returned the hug.
The
puzzled look wasn’t lost on me as Julie hurried off to join her brother. I
wasn’t sure why I felt the need for the extra hug. Probably the guilt already
eating at me.
What if the kids found out? What would they
think of their mother? Why hadn’t I thought of all this before I so foolishly
given in to a whim? It wasn’t like me to jump into things like this. I always
thought things through. Why not this time? I had never done a spontaneous thing
in my life.
Why now?
I shook the thought from my mind, ran
downstairs to make coffee and thought about the errands I needed to run.
Grocery shopping, dry cleaners, post office, something else — damn, I hated
when I couldn’t remember. Why hadn’t I written it down? Lately, I’d been so
forgetful it scared me. Oh well, I’d
think of it eventually.
Always one to get my errands done and out
of the way early, today I dreaded going out. What if I ran into someone? I
couldn’t face people. Not yet. One look at my face, and they’d guess. I went
back upstairs, blew dried my hair and slipped into a light cotton blouse and
capris. After one last look in the mirror, to assure myself I hadn’t really
turned into a monster, I looked around the room — our room — mine and Andrew’s.
This was our sanctuary. We both loved this
room. I loved the warm burgundy walls. Andrew had been leery of the color, but
once he saw it he liked it too. He had given me a free hand with decorating for
the most part - as long as I didn’t do anything too frilly. Of course, he
insisted on picking out the massive cherry furniture, the sleigh bed and
oversized armoire. It fit well in the large room. The only frill I allowed myself
was the antique, pink floral rocker. The other chair, another over-sized,
over-stuffed one, Andrew wanted. The burgundy and navy plaid chair fit well
with the room. Gave it a homey feel. Tears stung my eyes.
Why
had I been so foolish?
How could I have crawled into bed after sex
with another man? I definitely needed to
change the sheets, or more likely burn them. I yanked the sheets off the bed
and got new ones from the closet, picked up the navy quilt from the floor,
where I had kicked it, and made up the bed. Okay, enough of a delay, it was
time to get on with the day.
After a quick cup of coffee, I was off.
Hurrying through the grocery store, head down to avoid making eye contact with
anyone, I prayed I wouldn’t run into anyone, especially a gossipy neighbor.
Usually I loved grocery shopping. Loved planning dinners for my family,
especially when Andrew came home from one of his trips. I always tried to make
something special. But not today.
I threw only a few of the things from my
list into the cart and cut my shopping trip short. This was too much to
handle. I had to get out of here. I
could barely breathe. The risk of running into a neighbor or someone from the
club was just too great. Besides, my head still ached something fierce. Served me
right, but no way could I finish shopping.
Relieved not to have bumped into anyone, I
paid for the groceries, hurried to my car, and pressed the remote to release
the trunk. While unloading the grocery cart, a sense of dread came over me.
Someone stood behind me.
Oh crap, why now?
Without looking, I knew it was Paul. I
didn’t want to face him, not today, not ever again. How to explain to him this
was a one-time thing, that there was nothing between us? I couldn’t bring myself
to look at him.
“Hey, Babe, how are you today?”
Just the sound of his voice sent chills up my
spine, and not the ones I experienced yesterday. Today, nothing about him
excited me. Today, the thought of him repulsed me.
Heat burned my face, and I knew color crept
into my cheeks. A wave of nausea formed a lump in my throat, making it
difficult to speak. Without looking up, I put my groceries into the trunk and
slammed it closed. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.
“Hey, why the cold shoulder? What’d I do?”
Paul grabbed my arm.
I cringed at the sound of his voice, pulled
away, got into the car, and rolled down the window - just enough for him to
hear me. Staring straight ahead, unable to look at him, barely able to even
talk to him, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Something told me this
wasn’t going to be easy.
“Paul, about last night... It was a
mistake. It’s not going to happen again.” I started the car and forced myself
to look at him. “I’m sorry...” I just
wanted this over and done with. Wanted to be rid of him.
“What do you mean a mistake?” Paul’s smile
turned into a scowl. “You’re sorry...?”
His raised his voice and clenched his fist.
This wasn’t going well. “Look, Paul, it
never should have happened. I lost control...” Think, darn it. There had to be
something I could say to let him down easy. Some way to soften this.
“Paul, listen... You’re an attractive guy,
but I’m married, please try to understand.” This was hopeless. The arrogant
look on his face told me I wasn’t getting through to him. Something told me he
wasn’t used to rejection, that he was the one who usually called it quits. Well,
there’s a first time for everything. Looked like he found his first.
“Hey, come on, Meg. You can’t mean that.”
What
had I seen in him? Right now he looked like a spoiled kid whose mother told him
to get out of the cookie jar. He looked like he was going to throw a tantrum,
and I wasn’t about to stick around and watch.
I started the car, put it in gear, and
drove off, leaving him to stare after me.
***
Son of a bitch, who did she think she was
sloughing him off like that? Dumb bitch. No way. He wasn’t done with her yet. There
was still more fun to be had. Married, big deal. All of the women he played
around with were married. Safer that way. No strings. He wasn’t looking for a
permanent relationship for god’s sakes.
She’d been such an easy mark. So ripe for
the picking – typical lonely housewife. Husband’s gone, kids almost grown. Yep,
she was more than ready. A wasp’s nest what a story. But it worked. He didn’t
care what excuse she used. It got him what he wanted. And what a night. He
could hardly wait for a repeat performance. She should be dying for an encore.
What the hell? The nerve of her driving off
that way. Who did she think she was, Queen of England or something? He decided
when fun time was over. Not her. Stupid bitch. No way was she going to use him
for a one night stand. He’d show her.
Shit, bet it wouldn’t take long to convince
her either. So she was feeling a bit of conscience today, she’d get over it.
All he had to do was show up at her door a few times. She’d give in. She didn’t
know how lucky she was. Hell, half the women at the club were after him, and he
chose her.
Now, she was going to tell him no. No
chance. He’d seduce her again. A lot of women had guilt trips. They always
changed their minds. So would she. Playing hard to get, that’s all she was doing.
Pretending it wouldn’t happen again.
Hell, last night she couldn’t wait until he
took her. Didn’t even finish her drink, and he made it extra strong just in
case she had an attack of conscience. Meg didn’t hesitate for a second. Nope,
fell right into his arms. Hot little thing too, for a woman her age. Couldn’t
get enough of him.
Paul walked back to his car and got
in. A few phone calls, a couple chance
meetings, she’d be right back where she was last night. Under his spell. Why women reacted that way to him, he had no
idea. Been that way ever since he was sixteen and one of his friend’s mothers
came on to him. Hadn’t stopped since.
Not that he minded. Saved him a lot of trouble. Didn’t have to dodge those girls
who were looking for marriage and babies. Not his style. Settling down with a
bunch of brats wasn’t for him. Too many
fish in the pond for that.
He hardly ever dated single women anymore.
Oh sure, he had to do it occasionally, just to save face. Certain events
required he come with a date. Never lacked for any of them either. Usually
teachers at school. But that got complicated sometimes. They were looking for more, and dating
someone you worked with made it all that much harder to end it. But, he managed
all these years, and he’d continue to manage.
He already had his mark picked out when he
was through with Meg. Another month or so, and he’d end it. He never stuck
around long. Got what he wanted and got out before they started getting ideas
about leaving their husbands and making it permanent.
He drove home smiling. Yep, Meg would come
around.
Reviews: 5.0 out of 5 stars Life's Choices Can Make You or Break
You October 21, 2012 By G. R. Branan
All
of us have choices. And yes, sometimes, the choice we make can change the
course of your life. For better or worse? Well, that's up to you. Another Day
explores the consequences of one choice made by a woman. Definitely, it could
have wrecked her life. Instead, she changes it into something that enhances it.
Thought-provoking and poignant, any woman will relate to this story.
5.0 out of 5 stars Another Day, The Struggles and the
Joys October 21, 2012 By Heather Haven
This
is the 4th or 5th story I've read by the author, Roseanne Dowell. This book
offers more than romance to the reader. Real life is given a prose treatment
that becomes a full-bodied, truthful story with layers and dimensions. Ms.
Dowell has a way of getting into the heart of her protagonist and this read is
no exception. You cannot help but root for the characters and feel their
deepest yearnings and fears. You are driven to turn the pages until you find
out what happens to them. And what happens is always satisfying. Brava, Ms.
Dowell! You've done it again.
Links:
Thanks for regaling us today, Roseanne. Pleasure to host you and great excerpt!
A Warm Welcome to Christine
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