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The Sidelined Wife(16)

By:Jennifer Peel

"I value fidelity."

"As you should."

We walked in silence for a few steps. "You know, I ran into Reed last night. We ended up having dinner together."

"Really?" He didn't sound as surprised as I thought he would have.

"I think maybe he could use some of your attention."                       
       
           



       

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so. But I get the feeling that he's looking for connections. You know, his roots."

Peter tilted his head and scrunched his forehead. "Are you sure? That  doesn't sound like Reed, and when I talked to him a couple of days ago,  he seemed good."

"I'm not saying he's not. Maybe lonely is a better word. I mean, why else would he want to have dinner with me?"

A smile crept across Peter's face.

"What's that Cheshire grin for?"

"Did it ever occur to you that he likes you?"

"Sure, in that we-knew-each-other-way-back-when sort of way. And he's Cody's coach."

Peter's smile only grew.

"Am I missing something?"

"I think so."

"What?"

"I think I'm going to let you figure that out."





Chapter Fourteen


The next few days were a flurry of back-to-school shopping, responding  to comments on my blog, and thinking up new posts. My followers seemed  to crave them. It was weird to have an audience. They liked it if I  said, "I hope you all have a great day," but I tried to be more  original.

I was trying to think up a gem of an idea while taking a really hard  look in the mirror on Sunday morning. I'd gotten my butt back to the gym  for a hip-hop class. Yeah, I said hip-hop. I thought since a long time  ago in a galaxy far, far away I had been a cheerleader, I could do a  dance-style exercise class. I wasn't sure what had happened to dance in  the last twenty-plus years or so, but my body didn't bend, shake, or  twist like the instructors or the cute twenty-something-year-olds in the  class who all looked at me like I had been born during the dawn of  civilization.

So I was sore, humiliated, and naked, looking at myself in my full-length mirror. That's when it struck me.

Now that I'm single, the big question on everyone's mind is, "When will I  date again?" I'm not sure if or when that will ever happen, but this I  know. Not only will I require a marriage certificate the next time  someone sees me naked, but they must also sign an NDA. That's right, I  want a written agreement that they will never discuss my naked body with  another living soul, maybe not even me. Does anyone else feel this way?

I clicked publish.

What I wouldn't do to have that twenty-two-year-old body again. The one I  was nervous about showing off on my wedding night. What was wrong with  me? I should have put that body on parade. It's not like I had let  myself go, but it wasn't the same. Twenty-year-olds didn't appreciate  the bodies they were given. We should get those bodies when we're forty  and have the good sense to know how amazing they really are.

I limped around all day Sunday. I was getting older, but I wasn't that  old. Every part of my body ached. There would be no more hip-hop  classes. I would have to try the walk and tone class, or maybe pull out  my old exercise DVDs. Or I could just shove my face full of the Snickers  apple salad I made to take to my parents' for dessert. I wasn't sure  how it could be called a salad, considering there were candy bars in it,  but I wasn't going to argue. And I was telling everyone I ate salad for  dinner.

To my distress, Cody drove us over to my parents'. The Snickers salad  almost had a mishap when Cody slammed on his brakes because he was  following behind the person in front of us too closely and they made a  sudden stop. I was thankful for the plastic wrap that acted like a seal,  and that I didn't have bladder leakage issues yet. Teaching Cody how to  drive was going to be the death of me or, perhaps, both of us.

By the time we arrived at my parents', I was already frazzled, and my  loved ones didn't help. I was bombarded as soon as I walked in.

Ma was shaking her head at me before I could put the dessert in the  fridge. "Samantha Marie." Her sigh was as heavy as the tray of raw meat  she was handing over to Dad to barbecue.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Cody Joseph, join Matt and Jimmy outside," Ma instructed my son.

I thought for sure someone had died. Why else would Ma send Cody  outside? And why was everyone else gathering around me? Even Dad, who  was holding on to several pounds of steak. Mimsy was rubbing her rosary  beads and silently praying. Oh, this wasn't good.

Cody saw the writing on the wall and didn't have to be told twice; he darted out of there.

To make matters more interesting, Reed showed up. Peter let him in  before all the fun began. I didn't even know he was invited. Did he have  a permanent invite now?

I began to really worry when Dad's face started to perspire, but then I  noticed the evil grin on James's face and Avery trying to hold in a  laugh.                       
       
           



       

Reed walked in bearing another bouquet of flowers, this time peach  roses. I loved peach roses. He stopped dead in his tracks, though, when  he noticed the powwow going on in the kitchen.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Ma shook her head again and huffed and puffed. "You might as well know  too, since apparently the whole world does." Ma laser focused her pale  blue eyes on me.

I set the salad on the counter. "Ma, what's wrong?"

"Do you know what I read this afternoon?" She placed her hand over her heart.

"The Reader's Digest?" She loved that little magazine, and may very well  be the only person that still had a paper version delivered.

"Besides that?"

"An obituary?" I guessed by her reaction.

"Well, I almost died after reading your . . . your . . . sexy talk."

James erupted in a laugh. The meat tray in Dad's hands faltered as he  shuddered. And Mimsy began to pray out loud, asking for me to find my  way. It didn't help that I caught a glimpse of the concern in Reed's  eyes. I swore it looked like he might jump to my defense, the way he  looked between Ma and me.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ma."

"Of course you do. Everyone does. Even Bobbie Jean next door knows  you've been writing all over the place about your sex life and how much  you hate men and marriage."

If I wasn't so embarrassed that Reed was getting yet another front row  seat to the "humiliate Samantha show," I might have been impressed that  my parents' ninety-year-old neighbor was online.

Instead, I sighed. "Ma, I'm not writing about my sex life, per se, and I  know not all marriages are bad." I looked at Delanie, who was glued to  Peter's side, to prove my statement. They both gave me sympathetic  grins. "But my marriage didn't turn out the way I thought it would, and  I'm just being real. I think it's helpful."

"It's helpful to tell people that you're going to be naked and you need  an NDA? What is that short for? Is it some type of code word for doing,  you know, the deed?"

Avery's laugh found a way out, though she tried to hold it back.

Dad, without a word, turned around and ran for the patio door.

Mimsy's prayers got a little louder.

Reed's brow hit his hairline.

I walked over to Ma and took her hands. "Ma, an NDA is a non-disclosure agreement."

"What does that mean, and why do you need one? You shouldn't even be having sex. You're not married." She was beside herself.

And now I remembered why I'd had some issues with sex when I first got  married. My entire life, I was told how bad sex was, and how horrible  things would happen to me if I had it before I got married. Talk like  that kind of does something to you. And it's not easy to flip a switch  and go from "sex is bad" to "oh, sex is good." That's why I'd always  told Cody that sex was beautiful, but it needed to be done with the  right person at the right time. He doesn't appreciate those talks.

I looked around the room at everyone, and they all got the hint that I  needed a private word with Ma. That was, everyone but Mimsy got the  hint. It was probably good that Mimsy stayed. She needed to hear this  too.

With everyone shuttled out to the backyard, I turned to the two women I  loved but had complicated relationships with. They were good women with  the best of intentions, but sometimes what they considered good for you  wasn't right for you at all. I knew they loved me, but how they showed  it wasn't always the way I needed it. They were byproducts of their  generations and their own upbringings. They came from a work hard, stay  in the lines, don't wear your emotions on your sleeve kind of stock.  Both of them could be affectionate, but it was within their boundaries.  And the world they lived in was black and white. The older I got, the  more I realized life wasn't so cut and dry. There had been a lot of gray  in my life, and lately a lot of red.