The Sidelined Wife(42)

I was determined for Delanie to feel welcome in our family. I headed  straight for her, pulled her up even though it was awkward, and hugged  her like I would Cody. The feel-how-much-I-love-you-never-let-go type.  It took her a moment to reciprocate, but she relaxed and squeezed back.  With it came tears. Avery came around and joined us, wrapping her tiny  arms around us. She was shorter than both of us, but stronger. Her toned  arms were boa-constrictor-level tight.

My own tears started to fall. "Delanie, if we haven't said it before, we are so happy you married our brother."

Avery considered Peter to be every bit her brother. She had watched him grow up since he was in middle school.

"I am too, but how can so much happiness bring so much misery?"

"Mom will come around." Avery tried to sound sure.

"I'm not sure, and it's making my husband miserable. Family is everything to him."

"And we're all still here," I tried to comfort Delanie.

She shook her head and took a step back from us, breaking up the group  hug. "There's more to it." She pressed her lips together as if she had  said too much.

Avery and I both glanced at each other before taking a closer look at  our uncomfortable sister. Avery was bolder than me. "What are you  talking about, honey?"

Delanie wiped the tears off her smooth, creamy cheek as if she was  trying to get rid of any evidence of them. I had been there. More than I  wanted to admit.

"I never imagined my life like this."

Worry rose in my chest. Was she rethinking Peter because of our family? That would devastate him.

Avery and I leaned in, waiting for her to elaborate.

Delanie took a breath and looked up to the popcorn ceiling. "I never planned on getting married or settling down."

Oh, this was bad. We leaned in closer.                       
       
           



       

Delanie's eye filled with more tears. "Then I met Peter, a priest of all  things." She laughed to herself. "I never believed in God, but I  thought if there was one, I was sure I would go to hell for the way I  felt about him. From the moment Peter and I met, I couldn't stop  thinking about him. We tried to stay away from each other, but it proved  impossible. Like a moth to the flame, I found myself finding any excuse  to be around him. I even attended mass; anything to see him. He tried  harder to resist me."

Peter had never shared any of their history, so Delanie had our rapt  attention. I felt butterflies in my stomach as if she was telling us a  tale of forbidden love.

"Peter even asked to be reassigned to another diocese. I thought I would  never see him again, so I told him I loved him. I fell in love with a  man I had never touched, yet he had touched me so deeply with his kind  heart and smile. He was passionate about helping the poor. He loved the  kids we worked with. Kids," she whispered, like she was being haunted by  a ghost.

Avery and I looked to each other with a knowing glance. Delanie's earlier comment was beginning to make more sense.

Delanie stared off into the distance. "I've never met a man who wanted  kids more. Ironic, considering he once vowed to be celibate. Then he  married me. Someone who believed there were too many children in the  world that needed care. No need to add another. Except now there is  nothing I want more than to give him, us, a child. And I can't. We've  tried and tried."

I reached out and took her slender hand, which was covered in a  phoenix-shaped henna tattoo. "I wish you would have said something. I'm  so sorry." I had wondered if they would have kids, but that was a  private decision. Ma hadn't even hounded them about it. I think she  hoped they would break up. But as far as I could tell, that was a wasted  hope that Ma needed to get over as soon as possible. Delanie and Peter  loved each other. Anyone could see that.

Avery took Delanie's other hand. "What can we do?"

Delanie shrugged. "I don't know. Not even the doctors know what to do.  Everything appears to be working fine, except it isn't. And it's not  like-" She shook her head in a panic.

We didn't press, but we were both curious.

Delanie composed herself and continued. "Peter says it doesn't matter to  him whether we have children or not, but he's been talking more about  adoption. Though in his eyes, I see how much he wants one of his own.  How devastated he is with every negative pregnancy test."

"Men," Avery laughed. "They have this thing about wanting to spread their seed around."

Delanie and I laughed with her. It was better than crying.

And I had a feeling we had all cried more than we ever wanted to share.

But that day, we shared part of ourselves, some of the most vulnerable,  messy parts of our lives that we did our best to keep hidden. We never  did talk about the new house or the Halloween party, but none of those  seemed important in light of the secret pain our new sister had been  carrying.

It was a reminder to never judge a book by the pretty cover we all put  on display. We each carried burdens only known to us. We each needed  relief and a shoulder to cry on, even if it was digitally. Sometimes we  needed help to write the next chapter in our book or the strength from  another to burn the one we were working on and start again. Avery had  done that for me. The women that followed me on online were helping too.  And now we would help Delanie however we could, even if we could only  lend an ear. We'd shake some sense into Ma too, if possible.

I only hoped one day that Cody found a woman that loved him so fiercely.

But not until I was dead.





Chapter Thirty-Six


After the day I'd had crying with my sisters, finishing my speech,  sending in quarterly reports, making dinner, ordering a corsage for  Rory, and responding to comments on my latest post, I was more than  looking forward to the pedicure and time with Reed. He texted me earlier  and told me to arrive ten minutes earlier than him and to keep my cell  phone out.

I was seen to a chair right away after picking out the deep red polish  for my toes. I couldn't wait to get my tired feet into the jetted bath  of warm water.

Except there was a problem. The tech was not the usual cute little woman  I was expecting. Instead I found myself staring at an attractive man  with overly blond hair and too tanned skin. His aqua eyes were flashing a  brilliant smile at me and asking me what kind of pedicure I wanted. I  wanted the one where he wasn't touching me. Not like I had anything  against men touching me, but I didn't want to pay them to touch me.                       
       
           



       

"So what will it be?" Nail tech man asked in his bedroom voice. Oh  goodness, was this one of those places that was a front for a brothel?  Did they have back rooms? Was that what he was asking?

I stared long and hard at the menu he had handed me when I sat in the  chair. I carefully read each item on their "menu." Were these code  words? If I said, I'll take the margarita pedicure, would I suddenly  find myself whisked off to one of their back rooms? And then would he be  like, welcome to Margaritaville and strip off that tight tee he was  wearing along with his asset-enhancing jeans?

"Just a regular pedicure, thank you," I stuttered out, not able to even  look at the guy. I handed him the card and swore he brushed my hand on  purpose. This was not going to do. How could I relax now?

Before I knew it, Tony, I think he said his name was, had his hands on  me. Like I needed help rolling up my pants or putting my feet in water. I  looked at all the cute little ladies in the place not busy with any  customers. Why couldn't they help me? How rude would it be for me to ask  for a new tech?

To make matters more interesting, I received a text.

I'm here. Pretend like you don't know me when I walk in.

If ever I wanted to blow our cover, this was it. I wanted Reed to take  the chair right next to me and hold my hand. I placed the phone in my  lap and, unfortunately, caught the stare of Tony.

"Is the water temperature good for you?"

I nodded.

"Good. I'll be right back." He winked, like an honest-to-goodness, couldn't-be-mistaken-for-an-eye-twitch wink.

In the moment he was gone, I tried to enjoy the feel of the water  swirling around my feet. That lasted all about ten seconds. Reed and  Tony walked back at the same time. My hopes soared that perhaps Tony  just ran the water. Yes, yes. I liked that thought. My cute woman should  arrive any moment to massage my feet and calves. That was a lovely  thought that went down like the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. Tony took  his stool back at my feet, but not before sizing up Reed. Why do all  attractive men do that to each other?

I knew I was supposed to pretend like I didn't know Reed, but it was  hard to miss his eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling and his double take  of Tony.