Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [14]
The three friends exchanged quick, horrified glances and then Maureen, still holding Emilie’s hand in her own, squeezed tighter. One thought raced frenetically through her mind: Say the right thing. Whatever you do, Say the right thing. “I don’t believe Ed would follow through with this, Emilie. He’ll come to his senses.” Maureen looked around the table for affirmation from the others. “I bet he’ll be back before you know it. Certainly he’ll change his mind.”
Vanessa started to add something, but hesitated and stopped, flustered.
And then Sherry whispered under her breath, “Maybe it would be better for Em if he didn’t.”
That drew an astonished look from Maureen, but a shrill, staccato laugh from Emilie. It was nothing like her usual beloved, boisterous laugh, and that sarcastic sound—more than anything that Emilie had said so far—brought a stab of pain to Maureen’s heart.
“Funny, I was thinking some of those same things when Ed was first telling me his ‘news,’ shall we say. My mind was racing, thinking surely he’d change his mind, he’d come to his senses, blah, blah, blah. And then he’d beg my forgiveness for this … this temporary insanity.” She reached for a crumpled, much-used tissue from her lap, dabbed at her eyes.
“And then he put his briefcase on the counter, pulled out papers. Turns out my efficient husband has already contacted an attorney.” She blew her nose and then closed her eyes. “It’s been going on that long. And here I was …”—she glanced over at Maureen with a look on her face like she’d just been slapped—“so blind that I was actually considering having another baby.”
Maureen rehearsed their conversation of the night before, trying to remember Emilie’s exact words. “Em, it … this makes no sense. Didn’t you and Ed just discuss this? Recently? Did I misunderstand?”
“Oh, no, you didn’t misunderstand a thing.” Emilie grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “He was falling all over himself with apologies about that ‘small but well-meaning indiscretion,’ he called it, this morning. A lapse in judgment. But he was only trying to ‘pacify you, dear Emilie,’ as he so thoughtfully put it.”
Maureen felt sick to her stomach and leaned down to find a tissue in her purse. Anything to break eye contact with Emilie—and those piercing, accusing eyes. She had no idea what to say now … how to respond. All she could do was glance up from her search to meet Emilie’s gaze momentarily before looking down again. Like a puppet on a string, Emilie followed Maureen’s lead, looking down at her purse too. It was like a bizarre, synchronized dance. And in the midst of that ballet, Maureen could only think, Why is she so intently focusing on me? What am I supposed to say? What does she want me to say?
“That is just … disgusting.” Sherry had been married to an apparent charmer who turned out to be a total fraud. He had cheated—not once, but repeatedly. Once she discovered his infidelities, she divorced him without a backward glance and often pointed out that she’d never trust another man again. Not in that way. With narrowed eyes and grim line of her mouth, she slowly shook her head in disdain.
“It’s also pathetic.” From Vanessa.
Emilie turned again to Maureen, eyebrows raised.
“I just don’t know what to … Ed’s always been such a godly … he’s an elder at church. And he’s the head of your home, Emilie, and …”
“Maureen.” Sherry gave Maureen a piercing glare, cutting her off. And then, before anyone could say anything more, a server arrived at their table.
“Welcome, ladies. I hope you’re all having a great day.” Not waiting for an answer, she chirped, “My name’s Becky and I’ll be your server. What drinks can I get you to start with? May I suggest a nice merlot or maybe a margarita? We’ve got a special going on mango margaritas today, if anyone’s interested?” She appeared totally oblivious to the tension that sat like a grey cloud over the table.
“I’d like water with a lemon, please,” Sherry answered succinctly.
“Sparkling