Stonehill series collect.., p.26
Stonehill Series Collection, page 26
“Wait. Back the hell up. He’s the husband of the woman who stole your husband?”
Dianna closed the window on her computer. “Yes.”
“Why are you friends with him?”
“I told you I was testifying at his divorce hearing today.”
“That explains nothing.”
Dianna pushed herself up from the kitchen table to get a glass of water. “We had coffee after the hearing and offered to be each other’s support system.”
“Are you…you know…interested in him?”
“Kara, I’m not even divorced yet. I’m not interested in anyone.”
“Well, before you decide you are, know that he still has a lot of pictures of that slut on his page.”
She imagined Kara, strawberry blond hair twisted in a messy braid, squinting at her computer as her reading glasses sat unused atop her head. Kara had been on social media for all of three months—thanks to Dianna’s insistence—and already had learned the finer art of snooping. “You’re stalking him? Already? I just friended him five minutes ago.”
“I’m creeping his page as we speak. His privacy settings won’t let me read his status updates, but I can see all his pictures. He’s handsome, isn’t he? Why the hell would she leave him for Mitch?”
Dianna shook her head. Kara had known Mitch in high school, and they hadn’t exactly been friends. The first time she’d met Kara, Dianna could sense her distrust of Mitch. In a strange way, it was what had drawn Dianna to Kara. Everyone else, it seemed—even Dianna if she were honest—had been fooled by Mitch’s charming smile and soothing laugh. It was nice to meet someone who looked at him with suspicious eyes.
Right now, however, Dianna didn’t want her friend’s perspective on things. “I have to go, Kare.”
“Want to come to yoga with me in the morning?”
Saturday classes were free, so Dianna had no excuse not to go. “Yes,” she said, even though she knew she would probably sleep in. “No. Maybe.”
“You have commitment issues. That’s okay right now. But you should work on that before you guys get serious.”
Dianna opened her mouth to argue, but Kara’s laugh cut off as her friend ended the call. “Jerk,” Dianna muttered as she dropped her phone.
She looked at her beckoning laptop as she took a long drink from her glass. Finally, she set her water down and went back to the computer.
“Don’t do it,” she whispered to herself. The words had barely left her before she reconnected to the Internet. She opened Facebook, clicked on Paul’s name, and looked at his page.
His profile said he was married, though it didn’t specify to whom. She clicked on his friends and searched for Michelle’s name. When she didn’t find it, relief washed over her. Had he still, by some sick twisted need for torture, been friends with his wife, Dianna would have had an undeniable urge to look at her page. She maneuvered back to Paul’s wall and scrolled through his status updates. There hadn’t been many in the last few months. The ones that had been posted were mostly commentary on the weather, sports, or saying he was somewhere with someone he’d tagged in the status.
Nothing he said was very revealing. The pictures, however, told of what appeared to be a happy marriage. Photos of him with his wife seemed endless—parties, barbeques, on vacation someplace with palm trees, and holiday after holiday.
Looking at Michelle’s smiling face, even if she wasn’t standing next to Mitch, made Dianna’s hands shake and her heart race. She felt like she was breaking Paul’s trust somehow, and even though she felt guilty and didn’t want to see how happy Michelle had pretended to be, she couldn’t stop. She flipped through his photos, her heart pounding harder and her stomach tightening more and more until she had seen every one, including their beach wedding.
Michelle seemed to have played the part of doting wife well, at least in public. Paul must have been completely blindsided when she told him she was leaving.
“Poor guy,” she whispered to herself.
Dianna navigated away from Paul’s photos and into her own, just to see what he would see if he chose to snoop through her social media profile—which she assumed he would. Her status updates, much like his, had been sporadic in the last few months. Where his few had been about weather, hers were about Sam and Jason.
While Mitch was in a few, her photos were mostly her smiling next to her sons or her friends. She hadn’t even realized how much of her life she had been living without her husband. Where was he? Had they really been that far apart for so long?
Dianna frowned as she closed the window again. She texted Sam to see if he was going to be home for dinner. When he responded that he wouldn’t, she pushed herself up and grabbed a container of leftovers from the fridge to eat while watching a movie. Alone.
Paul stared out the window of his front room. The house was too quiet. It hadn’t bothered him the last six months since Michelle had gone. He had no idea why it was bothering him now. He hadn’t missed her loud music, with the thumping bass and lyrics he supposed were intended to be clever. Perhaps if he were a drunk twenty-something in a club, he would have thought they were.
He chuckled to himself and took another pull of his brandy. Michelle had told him he’d been fun when they’d gotten married but he’d become such a bore. He wasn’t a bore. He’d finally just accepted that she was never going to grow up, and he was tired of spending all day every day at work listening to excuses and whining from his clients and coming home and listening to excuses and whining from his wife. So what if he wasn’t up for dinner with half a dozen of her friends after being in court all day? So what if he didn’t want to spend every single weekend tailgating or going to bars like a damned college student?
That’s what he got for marrying someone so much younger, he supposed. That’s what Matt and Annie had told him. His siblings certainly didn’t hold any punches.
He looked at his computer when it made a noise. Setting his glass on the coffee table, Paul swiped the mouse until the screen lit. Dianna had accepted his friend request. He wondered if she’d debated accepting as long as he’d debated sending. He wasn’t much for social media. He signed up for Facebook mainly to keep up with his kids. They were both in college, and other than texting, this seemed to be the only way to be sure they were still alive. He had, however, felt compelled to friend Dianna to get a voyeuristic look into her life.
After clicking on her name, he looked at her page. He scrolled through, noting that six months ago, there was a significant drop in the number of people on her wall. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said her friends had abandoned ship as soon as Mitch left her.
He couldn’t help but smile, though. Her life, even after Mitch, seemed so much more together than his. It was clear from the photos that her sons adored her. Her friend—Kara, according to the photo tags—looked like a modern-day hippie, whereas Dianna looked more like the soccer mom type. A mixed pair, but it apparently worked for them. They were laughing in most of the photos.
In just a few minutes of snooping through Dianna’s social media, he thought he had more in common with her than he ever had with Michelle. The irony that he’d altered his entire life to suit a woman who left him because he wasn’t what she wanted wasn’t lost on him. She didn’t want kids—she was too much of a kid herself—so he’d lost what little ground he’d gained with his sons when he’d married Michelle. He saw them occasionally but not nearly as much as a father should.
He’d put distance between himself and his siblings because even when they weren’t telling him what a mistake he’d made, he could see their disapproval in their eyes. Friends? He’d never really had many of those. Most of the people he knew were through Michelle, and much like Dianna, they’d picked sides when things had gone to hell—and most hadn’t chosen his.
Who the hell needed them anyway? He didn’t. His life was much quieter without the parties his wife felt compelled to throw. He looked at a photo of Dianna with her boys and wondered what kind of get-together she’d host. Somehow, he doubted it would be like a frat party gone wrong.
Paul closed the page and leaned back with his drink, wondering why it even mattered.
Dianna winced, her hamstrings screaming in protest as she leaned forward to try to touch her toes. Why had she done this? Why hadn’t she just stayed in bed like she’d wanted to?
“So, what’s he like?” Kara whispered from the yoga mat beside her.
“Who?”
“The husband.”
“Paul?”
“Yes, Paul.”
Dianna exhaled slowly per the instructor’s direction and frowned at her friend, who was effortlessly leaning over her bent and twisted legs. Dianna kind of hated her at the moment. “How did you get so flexible?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
The woman on the other side of Kara wasn’t exactly glaring, but she didn’t have the serene look that was supposed to go along with doing yoga.
“Shh,” Dianna hushed. “We’ll talk later.”
She was relieved when the class was told to go into savasana. Lying flat on her back taking deep breaths? Yes, that she could do. She tried to clear her mind, but Kara was relentless.
“Is he as cute in person as he is in his pictures?”
Dianna exhaled much faster than would be considered relaxing. She imagined Paul smiling, that real smile he flashed when they’d shared a few laughs. “Yes.”
Kara grinned as if she’d learned some great truth.
Dianna rolled onto her sit bones and crossed her legs as she put her hands into prayer. Several more deep breaths, a well-wish spoken, and the class ended.
“Do you like him?” Kara asked.
“We spent twenty minutes drinking coffee and talking about how horrible our spouses are. I don’t think that qualifies as liking him.” She started rolling up her mat. “Besides, I am not the least bit interested in having a man in my life.” Slipping her shoes on, Dianna did her best to ignore Kara’s concerned stare.
“He’s been gone six months, Di.”
“Six months is nothing compared to twenty-two years. When I’m ready, I’ll be ready, but it isn’t going to be with her husband.”
“I’m just tired of seeing you so down on yourself,” Kara said as they walked out of Stonehill Community Center.
“I’m fine.”
They stopped in front of Kara’s car.
“Come to lunch with me.”
“I can’t. I have a ton of stuff to do before Thanksgiving.”
“Do you and the boys want to come to our house for dinner?”
Dianna chuckled, imagining the chaos that would be a holiday at Kara’s. She had a way of taking in strays who had nowhere else to go. Dianna’s amusement faded when she realized that she’d become one of those wayward souls with no family of her own to share the holiday. “No. I can manage.”
“I know you can, but you don’t have to.”
“This is my life now. I have to face it sometime.”
“I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.” Kara brushed a strand of hair from Dianna’s face.
It was that kind of maternal touch from Kara that Dianna needed and hated at the same time. Kara had become an emotional rock for Dianna, but Dianna was determined to make her way through her divorce on her own. She had to prove to herself that she wasn’t as weak and co-dependent as Mitch had made her feel. Even so, she couldn’t help but smile at her friend. “Then stop trying to fix me.”
Kara hugged her. “I’m a fixer. It’s what I do.”
“I know, but…”
“You want to find your own way. I get that. I really do. Don’t forget to drink lots of water. You’ll be stiff as a board tomorrow if you don’t.”
Dianna gave a weak salute as Kara climbed into her car, and then she walked several more spaces before getting into her SUV and dropping her head on the steering wheel. Even though Kara’s heart was in the right place, Dianna wished she would stop trying so hard to make her life better. How could things possibly get better when her entire life was slipping through her fingers?
Chapter 4
Dianna didn’t need another hassle. She didn’t need another stressful moment in her life, but that was exactly what she was getting. Jason had come home for the holiday, and she and her sons had immediately sat around the kitchen table, where they debated how to handle their first holiday as a broken family. The discussion had gone downhill quickly, and both her kids were pissed off.
“I’m not going,” Sam said for what Dianna was certain was the tenth time since they started discussing their plans. “No way in hell I’m acting all Brady Bunch with that cunt.”
Dianna closed her eyes. “Do not use that word in my house.”
Jason threw his hands in the air. “Well, we can’t just not see Dad.”
Sam lifted his brows sarcastically. “Yes, we can.”
“Mom, tell him.”
Dianna shrugged her shoulders. “He’s seventeen, Jas. He can do what he wants.”
Sam pushed himself up. “Except say cunt.”
“Except that. Where are you going?”
“Megan’s parents invited me to go out to dinner with them tonight. They feel bad that I’ve been abandoned by my father.”
“All right, listen,” she said. “I’ll have dinner ready whenever you plan to be here. All you have to do is tell me when you are going to your dad’s dinner. That is all I need to know.”
“I’m not,” Sam said. “Don’t wait up. I plan on staying as late as I can to avoid the empty shell that was once my home.”
Dianna chuckled as he left, but her grin faded when she noticed Jason glaring at her. “What?”
“You let him get away with everything.”
She didn’t say what she was thinking, but she silently considered how much her eldest son sounded just like his father in that moment. Mitch always seemed to have a disapproving tone when speaking of Sam, who preferred his guitar and friends to books and studying. “What exactly is he getting away with?”
“What are you going to tell Dad if Sam doesn’t show up for Thanksgiving?”
“I’m not going to tell your dad anything, Jason. That’s not my job anymore. All I need to know is when you guys plan to eat here so I can have dinner ready.”
“So, you’re just going to let Sam skip out on spending any part of Thanksgiving with Dad?”
“What do you want me to do? Drag him over there and supervise his every move, just so that he spends quality time with your dad and his new girlfriend?”
Jason lowered his gaze. “Fiancée.”
Dianna’s stomach dropped like a rock, and a sour taste filled her mouth. Fiancée? They weren’t even divorced, and Mitch was engaged? She swayed in her chair as her heart slammed against her ribcage.
“He called this morning to let me know.” Jason’s voice was quiet, as if saying the words softly wouldn’t inflict as much pain on his mother. “He said he was going to wait until after the divorce was final, but she found the ring, so… I’m sorry, Mom.”
She gave him a pathetic attempt at a reassuring smile, even though her eyes had filled with tears. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. It’s not okay. What the hell is wrong with him?”
Dianna hushed him as she reached out and stroked his hair, but as he always did when she tried to comfort him, he shook his head and snuffled back his tears.
“Sam’s right. We shouldn’t go. Grandma will understand. I don’t want to meet her. I don’t want to pretend like I’m okay with this. It sucks. Dad sucks.”
“But he’s still your dad. No matter what happens, what he does, or…who he marries, he’s still your dad.”
Jason stood and pushed his chair in. “Let’s do our usual Thanksgiving thing. Parade in the morning, eat around lunchtime, and then we’ll help you get the tree set up. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I told the guys I’d be over to hang out. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye. Jason?”
He stopped walking away and faced her.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Then he was gone, leaving her sitting alone at the table. She was tempted to call Sam. His anger over the engagement must have been the reason he refused to spend the holiday with his dad. She hated, absolutely loathed, that Mitch was so thoughtless toward their children.
How did he think Jason and Sam would react to their dad walking out on their mom and getting engaged to someone else so quickly? How could he think this would be okay with his sons?
Almost as much as she hated what he was doing to the boys, she hated that he could still hurt her. But her lip began trembling as she ran the news of his engagement through her mind again.
Paul smiled when he saw Dianna sitting at the same table where they’d last shared coffee and conversation. He’d considered calling her several times, but every time he’d hesitated, not sure what he would say. When she’d called him, he’d smiled as soon as he saw her number on the caller ID. She’d sounded a lot less excited when he answered, but he didn’t let that bother him. However, when she looked up at him, her skin was pale and she had bags under her bloodshot eyes. She looked worse now than she had sitting on the witness stand talking about her husband’s affair.
“Hey,” he said tentatively.
“Hi.” Her voice was hoarse, and she cleared her throat before speaking again. “I was waiting for you before I ordered.”
He waved a waitress over. “Do you know what you want?”
“Just coffee. Thanks.”
He placed their order as Dianna stared blankly out the window. Whatever was going on, she definitely wasn’t okay. Several minutes later, the waitress filled their coffee mugs and set a brownie and a slice of cheesecake on their table.
She looked at the plates and then creased her brow at him.
“You looked like you could use something sweet.”
Her lip twitched, but she didn’t fully smile.
“What’s wrong?”
Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, and Paul let out a slow breath. Nabbing a napkin from the stack on the table, he handed the far-from-soft paper to her as she took a few slow breaths.
