Single in Suburbia Read online

  Amanda bit back the “duh, really?” that sprang to her lips. She could hear it echoing in her head in Meghan’s perpetually surly tone. “She is angry, Rob. We all are. And hurt. And disappointed. You pick the negative adjectives and we’re them. Meghan’s just a little more verbal about her feelings than the rest of us.”

  He turned from the car to face Amanda. “I met with the managing partners at the firm today. I’m out, but they’re not going to report me to the bar association or press charges. They won’t take the chance of damaging the firm’s reputation.” He spoke quietly, whatever emotion he was feeling kept tightly in check.

  “So you’ll be able to keep practicing law?”

  “I don’t know. I won’t have a reference so none of the big boys will touch me. But I might be able to find something with a small one- or two-man firm. If I had a penny to my name, I could put out my own shingle.” He sighed. “I can’t believe it’s come to this.”

  That made two of them.

  “It seems to me you’re lucky not to be going to jail.” She looked into Rob’s eyes, searching for the man she’d married.

  “Yeah. That’s what your attorney said. She made it clear to the judge that if I wasn’t able to get a job in my field, I’d better get something else so that I could help support you all. I believe she mentioned working on a garbage crew as a possibility.” He smiled a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Once all the dust settles, I’m hoping to do better than that.”

  “Oh, Rob.” Despite her hurt and anger, her heart ached for him and for all the promise that he had wasted.

  “I’m really sorry, Amanda. I don’t even know what else to say. I juggled things for so long. I never imagined I’d drop so many balls at one time.”

  “What about the house?” Amanda asked. “I’ve been waiting to hear from Anne Justiss’s office.”

  “The mortgage payments are up-to-date. And for the time being the house will stay in both our names. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to help with the payments. Or much else for that matter. I don’t even know how I’m going to keep up with the town house.”

  He looked at her and she realized with some surprise, that he was waiting for her to suggest that he move back in so that they could consolidate their expenses.

  “Maybe Tiffany can help you pay the rent.”

  He studied her for a long moment then turned from her to consider the house. She had the sense that he’d finally realized how much he’d given up. “Yeah. Maybe so.”

  Amanda watched him gather himself and when he spoke again it was of details. “I deposited five thousand dollars in the household checking account earlier this week right before everything got shut down. That should get you through the next month. I’d suggest we sell the house so that you can buy something less expensive, but given our appalling lack of income you’d never be able to buy anything else. And without an income you can’t refinance.”

  “I wouldn’t sell anyway,” Amanda said. “I made a promise to Meghan and Wyatt. I won’t disrupt their lives any further. I’m just going to have to find a way to hang on.”

  Rob nodded and squared his shoulders. “I’ll have the kids back Sunday afternoon,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’ll help you with them in any way I can.” He smiled and the regret reflected in his eyes almost broke her heart. “If the garbage thing doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll pull an Eddie Murphy and open a Daddy Daycare.”

  chapter 9

  C andace awoke on Saturday morning ready to purr. Lazily she stretched and yawned. The imported sheets were soft and sensual against her bare skin. The body heat of the man lying beside her was warm and comforting. She drew closer, turning on her side with her back against his chest so that she could tuck her bottom more firmly against him. He stirred against her.

  “Mmmmmm.” He slid an arm across her waist and reached up to cup a breast.

  “Mmmmm yourself.”

  His fingers brushed lightly against her nipple causing her to arch against him. He pressed a sleepy kiss to the back of her neck. “Come here.” He moved back and gently turned her over to face him. She opened her eyes and stared into his.

  “Good morning.” He kissed her cheek, the tip of her nose. His morning erection brushed up against the juncture of her thighs, not insistent or demanding, just warm and there.

  Candace burrowed closer amazed as she always was by how easy he made things. With her husbands and the others she’d dated, she had always made a point of slipping out of bed before they woke up to brush her teeth and put on makeup so that she showed to best advantage. Dan had put an end to that the first time he’d stayed over when he’d padded naked into the bathroom behind her and shown her exactly how desirable he thought her just the way she was.

  A glance over his shoulder at the bedside clock indicated ten AM. She should get up and get dressed. She’d promised her mother she’d go with her to look at fabrics. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?” she asked.

  “I’m headed somewhere right now.” His penis pressed against her and he smiled lazily. “But I’m planning to take you with me. And I’m not in any rush.”

  When he’d taken her exactly where she was hoping to go, he flipped over onto his back and pulled her close so that her cheek rested on his chest. His breathing had slowed but his heart still beat quickly. She could hear its muffled rhythm under her ear.

  “I need to get going,” she said halfheartedly.

  “I’d like to stay here all day,” Dan said. “When’s the last time you spent a day in bed?”

  She checked to see if he was joking. All of the men she’d married and most of the men she’d dated would be seated at their desks or teeing up on the first hole by now.

  “Um, that would be never.”

  “Well, we may not have the entire day, but we can get close.” He kissed her and pulled her tighter. “I don’t have to be at the field for warm-ups until two. Why don’t we start with the half-day layabout and work our way up to the full-day gig?”

  He yawned and she snuggled closer. She noticed that he hadn’t asked her to come to the game. He knew how out of her element she felt at the park and with the team mothers. But she also knew how much he liked it when she was in the stands.

  Maybe she’d call her mother and see if they could start the fabric search another time.

  “Why don’t we catch a little snooze so that we can build up our strength?” Before she could answer, his breathing had slowed and his eyelids fluttered shut.

  She hated to disappoint Hannah. Since her father’s death five years ago, Candace had sensed a growing neediness underlying her mother’s bravado.

  Her last thought as her own breathing evened out was that she’d definitely reschedule with her mother so that she could make today’s game. If Brooke were there she’d at least have someone to talk to. And maybe they could check on Amanda afterward. Rob was supposed to have the kids for the weekend, and Candace didn’t like the idea of Amanda rattling around in the house all alone. She knew firsthand how lonely being single in suburbia could be.

  Brooke lay in the chaise beside their backyard pool and stared up at the blue sky trying to ignore the slight spring chill. She’d been lying there most of the morning contemplating the clouds and her life, not to mention her marriage, which was turning out quite differently than she’d expected.

  Idly she reached for the glass of iced tea on the table and drew a long sip through the straw. Her stepson was in the house playing video games on the big screen TV; he’d been planted on the couch since he’d woken up that morning. His father was out on the golf course, where he’d headed while she was still sleeping, and she had had to choose between her room, which was the only place in the house where the sound of MVP Baseball 2005 could NOT be heard, or out here in the late March sun, which wasn’t really warm enough for sunbathing.

  She gazed at the house and tried to feel the lovely little glow she normally got when she contemplated it, but she’d spent the entire mo
rning alone avoiding Tyler’s perennially pissy mood, and she wasn’t feeling all that great about her marital accomplishments.

  Looking for reassurance, she unzipped her coverup and studied her body in the new Gottex bikini. Beneath the goosebumps her stomach was flat, concave really, and a diamond stud twinkled from her belly button. Her legs were long and firm, without the slightest hint of varicose veins or cellulite.

  Still, she’d made appointments to work out with the private trainer at the club, and scheduled a consultation with a highly recommended plastic surgeon. She’d always been a long-term planner, and as Amanda Sheridan’s situation so clearly illustrated, a girl could never be too careful.

  The truth was she was lonely and bored. At the Children’s Hospital fund-raiser her isolation had become clear to her. Hap and Sarah’s friends wanted nothing to do with her. The only people at that entire gathering who’d gone out of their way to talk to her had been Candace and Dan.

  The cell phone beside her rang and she reached for it, but pulled back when she saw her mother’s name and number appear on the caller ID. Cassie Blount was calling from Betwixt, Georgia, a place that could just as easily have borne the name “Back of Beyond.”

  Brooke felt the usual twinge of guilt that the only phone number she’d ever given her mother was her cell, but she refused to take the chance that some creditor, or her mother on a binge, might leave a message on the house phone that Hap might somehow hear.

  When he’d asked her what family she wanted at their wedding, she’d answered truthfully that it was just her and her mother. And then when Hap had started to put her on the guest list, she’d hastily explained that they were estranged. What her mother would have called a high falutin’ word for too embarrassed to acknowledge her.

  With trepidation, Brooke picked up the phone.

  “Hey there, sweet cheeks,” Cassie Blount said with her take-no-prisoners cheerfulness. “How ya doin’ down there in the big city?”

  “I’m fine, Mama.” No matter how hard she worked to lose her backwoods twang it always seemed to sneak back in when she talked to her mother. “How’re you?”

  “I’m good. I lost the Worleys. They hired them a imported maid. Let me go without any warning.” There was a pause and then the relentless optimism. “But I think I can pick up some hours at the Holiday Inn.”

  “I can send you some extra in the meantime, Mama.” She’d set up a separate account from which she sent her mother’s monthly checks. “How’s the weather up there?”

  “Oh, can’t complain.” There was a pause. “I went to an AA meeting, Brooke. Just like you asked me to.”

  “That’s good, Mama.” Brooke’s enthusiasm was not as great as it had been the first couple of times her mother had made this pronouncement. “You need to stick with it this time, you hear?”

  “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry.”

  Brooke knew her mother meant it, at least for now. Her mother was chock full of good intentions; constantly turning over some new leaf.

  “When you gonna bring your young man up here for a visit?” she asked like she always did.

  Brooke thought how surprised both Hap and her mother would be to discover they were the same age. Not that she ever intended to let that happen. “Hap’s awful busy, Mama,” Brooke said, wishing this one truth were not. “I hardly see him myself during the week.” And less and less on the weekends. “But we’ll see what we can work out.”

  “OK, baby doll.” Her mother pretended to accept the excuse, though even such a determined optimist must be realizing by now that it wasn’t going to happen. “You take care of yourself.”

  “I will, Mama. You too.”

  Brooke made a mental note to send something extra in this month’s check and had just settled herself back into the chaise when the phone rang again. Seeing Hap’s cell phone number on the caller ID, she picked it up, brightening.

  “Hey, doll.” Hap’s voice bore none of her mother’s rural twang. The tinkle of glasses and the murmur of voices in the background told her they must be in the clubhouse. She wished she were there with him, about to have a post-round cocktail and not alone here at the pool covered in goosebumps.

  “Hi, Hap.” She looked down at her watch. It was twelve fifteen. His note had said he’d be home by noon. “You all done?”

  “We just finished the back nine, the course was packed today.” She could hear him put his hand over the mouthpiece for a moment and speak to someone else. She strained to hear whether there were female voices, but couldn’t make out anything over the general din. “I need to ask you a favor.”

  A favor? Like being gone the whole morning without a single complaint from her wasn’t favor enough?

  Hap didn’t wait for a response. He just expected her to comply, like she always did.

  “I’d really like to grab a bite with the guys.” He covered the mouthpiece again, but she could hear him call out to someone that he’d be right there. Obviously it didn’t occur to him that she might object. “And I wondered if you could get Tyler to warm-ups. I’ll meet you all there in time for the game.”

  “But…” Tyler hated her and let her know it at every opportunity. When Hap was around he turned the animosity down a notch. Being alone in a car with him was about as enjoyable as a root canal. “He’ll be so disappointed not to go with you. You’ve been gone all morning, Hap.” She said it gently, careful to keep the accusation out of her voice. No man liked to be nagged.

  “I know, darlin’, and I’ll make it up to both of you. I’m just asking for this extra hour. I haven’t seen the guys in a month.”

  There it was, the subtle reminder that he’d given up his old life for her.

  “If you’d like to go out with your girlfriends tonight, Tyler and I can order a pizza and bach it.”

  Her husband obviously hadn’t noticed she didn’t HAVE any girlfriends. The only women she’d shared more than polite chitchat with were Amanda and Candace. She swallowed back her hurt and irritation. “Of, course, Hap. You go on and have a nice time. We’ll see you at the field.”

  Downing the last swallow of iced tea, she rezipped her cover-up. Inside she placed herself in front of the wide screen television, where Tyler could not ignore her. “Your dad asked me to run you to the field. He’ll be there in time for the game.”

  Tyler grunted and then waited in impatient silence for her to get out of the way.

  The roar of the baseball crowd boomed out of the surround sound speakers and followed her down the hall. She had to get undressed and step into the shower to drown them out.

  Saturday afternoon Amanda donned her new rubber gloves and attacked the outdoor furniture with bleach and muscle, enjoying the feel of the sun on her bare shoulders as she scrubbed then sprayed away the residue of winter.

  Hair riffled by the breeze, she put the earbuds in and strapped her iPod to her arm. With smooth French jazz swirling in her ears, she turned to the large wooden tub planters that she kept on the deck. After plucking the now limp mass of purple pansies, she added soil and conditioner, mixing them together in preparation for the summer annuals she intended to plant.

  When her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, she removed one gardening glove and one earbud and braced the phone between her ear and shoulder.

  “We’re losing again.” Candace was whispering, which meant she must be in the stands. “Is it normal to lose this many games?”

  Amanda scooped the spent pansies off the ground and carried them to the garbage can. “We’ve been through a few rough patches in the past,” she said, “but this does feel unusually bad.” She walked back to the deck and leaned against the railing. “Who all’s there today?”

  “The usual,” Candace said. “Susie Simmons is here going on about losing her cleaning woman and pouting about her son spending time on the bench. Meghan’s sitting by herself with her nose in a book.”

  Amanda stared into the wooded backyard where a squirrel was busy stealing seed from a feeder. “You aren�
��t really going to make me ask are you?”

  “Sorry,” Candace said. “Tiffany’s here. She arrived during the first inning and it seems that however uncomfortable the other mothers are with you, they’re ten times more uncomfortable with her. Of course that may have something to do with the fact that she’s wearing a backless halter and shorts so short I think we’re going to have to call them underwear.”

  “Gosh I’m so sorry I’m missing that.”

  “Yeah, well, Brooke and I miss you. It just isn’t the same with only two of us stooges. We thought we’d take you out to dinner tonight if you’re available.”

  “Available?” Amanda laughed. “I’m not even going to pretend to check my calendar. But let’s eat here. I’ll make dinner if you’ll help me brainstorm afterward. I’ve got to figure out a way to make a living and it’s got to be something that doesn’t require start-up capital or experience.”

  “All right,” Candace said. “But I’ll bring the wine. And if we’re talking no money and no experience, I think we may need more than one bottle.”

  “The last time we drank together I tied over three hundred condoms to a tree. Let’s take it easy on the alcohol. I don’t want my new career to involve standing on street corners.”

  After riffling through her cookbooks for inspiration, Amanda laced up a pair of Nikes and headed outside for a walk. Around her, Chandler’s Pond had sprung into full Saturday afternoon mode.

  Across the street the garage door flew open and Myrna Hopewell buckled her three towheaded children—all under the age of five—into her Suburban and roared out of her driveway.

  Two houses over, the Cotrell twins were setting up a lemonade stand. A gaggle of middle-school-aged boys milled around the base of Chad Hanson’s driveway taking an occasional shot at the nearby basketball hoop.

  The well-manicured lawns served as backdrop to the bright bursts of pink and white azaleas and fat fingers of purple wisteria. Flats of Gerbera daisies and zinnias sat near the flower beds they’d soon call home. It looked like anyone who could was out in their yard breathing it all in.