Derailed (3 page)

Scarlett Murdoch: (Smiley face with heart eyes)
Don’t you worry, oh #FuturePrimeMinister, when I get home from the party, I shall make it up to you in more ways than one.
(Smiley face with a lewd wink.) #
ILoveBradleyMurdoch
.

Bradley Murdoch:
Promises, promises!

Scarlett Murdoch:
Count on it loverboy.
(Smiley face with tongue sticking out.)

Bradley Murdoch
: I’m counting, I’m counting! Lol!
(Smiley face with a wink.)

Bradley Murdoch:
To Mum and Dad, the most wonderful in-laws in the world, happy anniversary. Sorry I had to miss tonight. Hope you like the gift I sent. #HouseHuntingSucks.

Scarlett Murdoch and fifty-three others like this!

Only fifty-three? How humiliating.

Chapter Two

RIVAL

I’m madly, deeply, hopelessly in love. Yes, I’ve gone gaga over a man called Ritchie. How it happened – I have no idea. It just did and I’m not sorry in the least.

It should come as no surprise, considering the amount of time we’ve spent in each other’s company. Considering the fact that we’re both single and nursing broken hearts. Kindred spirits, you could call us. Anyone who knows us or our history would have predicted this outcome.

Yet, I’m thrilled and almost…
surprised
that he could fall for someone like me. To fool around with someone with my kind of baggage is one thing, but to fall in
love
with me?

Self-help books will tell you that I shouldn’t think this way. They will tell you that I should change my internal dialogue, tell myself I am worthy. They are right. I guess when your husband leaves you for another woman,
dumps
you for a scarlet seductress, your self-esteem takes a tumble. No matter what kind of pep talk you give yourself, you suffer bouts of self-doubt. But Ritchie, handsome, mischievous, playful,
sexy
Ritchie digs me. The thought of it makes me stumble around humming Rihanna’s “Only Girl in the World
.
”

My gratitude journal, which I’ve kept for a while now, is bulging with things I am grateful for. Ritchie’s name always tops the list of things/people I am grateful for. Recently I have something else to be proud of – I bought a car. A brand new convertible Mercedes. My first car that I bought myself. With Scarlett’s money of course. That’s the most thrilling part – using Scarlett’s money to make myself happy.

When my phone buzzes, I race to retrieve it.
Ritchie
? Please let it be Ritchie.
Only
Ritchie. I’m not interested in speaking to anyone else. I’m not interested in
hearing
from anyone else. Just my beautiful Ritchie who texts me about ten times a day.

It
is
Ritchie. 

Ritchie
: Whatchu upto babe

I grin as I reply.

Rival:
Thinkin bout u wishin u were here my love
(Two hearts.)

Ritchie: (Heart.)
couple more hours then Im yours
 

Ritchie:
4 hrs 30 mins n 45 secs not that Im counting
(Smiley face.)

Rival:
Ha ha. I luv u

Ritchie:
I luv you
(Smiley face.)

Rival:
How much

Rival:
how much do u luv me

Ritchie:
65 closets full

I laugh out loud.

Ritchie:
Big closets

Ritchie: huge

Ritchie:
Scarlett size closets
humongous.

Rival: Yes! (Smiley face jumping up and down.)

Ritchie:
Hand on my heart

Ritchie:
Seriously

Rival:
U make me smile. Xoxo

Ritchie: xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

After his texts, I feel like I’ve had a double shot of espresso. With sugar.

I now look forward to nights where I spend every moment in Ritchie’s arms. Thanks to Girly’s ability to keep our love a secret, I am able to sneak off in the mornings without being busted by his two girls.

The biggest challenge Ritchie and I have is keeping our hands to ourselves in front of the children. He’s really touchy-feely and I’m worse – I love giving and receiving affection. Isn’t that just a wonderful struggle?

True, there are times when I worry about just how dependent I am on Ritchie. Secretly, I’m bothered by my need for him, I have to admit. After all, I have promised myself that I will never again allow a man to get so close to me that I am lost without him. But the thing about the heart – it’s so much stronger than the head, and it is selfish. It wants what it wants. It cannot be denied.
Will
not be denied. 

I walk out onto Ritchie’s patio and stare into the nature reserve that is his back yard. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and in a yoga move, raise my arms to the heavens and inhale life. Perfect. That’s what my life is like right now. I mean, let’s take stock: my relationship with Bradley is great, I see my children every single day, cook for them, and even get to tuck them in bed most nights. I practically live with the man I love and cherish. My career – well, the book I stole from my nemesis is keeping me very comfortable financially. I am in want of nothing. Sometimes I have to pinch myself just to make sure I am not dreaming. I’d be so terribly disappointed if I am. Then I’d be just furious.

RITCHIE

I sit at my sister’s dining table and eye the sandwich my sister presented me with. “That doesn’t look like a dagwood,” I say.

“It is,” she says as she takes a seat next to her husband across from me.  “Anything more and you’re not going to be able to find a date,
boet
. You’re single, remember? Starve. It’s the only time you should starve.”

“Mm. Like I care if a woman thinks…” The rest of my words are swallowed with the sandwich. I look at Bear, my brother-in-law. “Terrible sandwich,” I say, pulling my plate closer to me. “You’ll hate it. That’s why I’m not offering you any, bro.”

Strangely, I get no comeback from him. In fact, he looks distracted. 

My eyes move to my sister. I catch her nudging Bear, worry lines marking her forehead. My eyes shift between the two of them. “What’s wrong?” I ask. Whatever it is, I can handle it. Nothing comes between me and the dagwood my sister’s prepared. Not only is she a great cook, but she’s a fantastic sandwich maker. She knows a thing or two about balance and ratio of condiments and fillings.  

“Liefie’s pregnant, Ritchie,” Arena says in a quiet voice.

I freeze, then slowly lower the half-eaten sandwich to my plate.

“Eight weeks.” 

That explains the guarded look, the shrill voice, and the nervous glances between them.

“Who’s the father?” I sneer, my eyes on the table.

“Ritchie!”

I look at Arena. “What? It’s not like I’m out of line here.”

“Vlad, of course.”

I cock my head at my sister. “She sure ’bout that?”

“Ritchie!” my sister chastises. “Of course.”

My head bobs. “Lucky Vlad. He gets to be a dad. Nice.” I didn’t think it could happen, but it did – I’ve lost my appetite.

“Eat, Ritchie,” my sister urges.

I shake my head and push away the plate.

She pushes the plate back to me. “This has to end,
boet
. You do know that.”

I push away the plate.

She pushes it back to me. “It’s been a while,
boet
.”

She wins – I stare at the plate but do not touch it. 

Arena gets up and fetches me a two cans of Coke from the fridge. She hands one to Bear and the other to me. I ignore the Coke.

“You’ve punished her long enough, Ritchie,” my sister says as she takes her seat again.

My head snaps to look at my sister. “Punished her?
I
punished her?”

She leans in, an imploring look in her eyes. “Ritchie, people make mistakes. You can’t hold it against them –”

“Yes, I can. You know why I can? Because she hurt me. I did nothing to hurt her, Arena.
She
hurt
me
. And frankly, I don’t ever think I am ever going to get past it. I can’t be like her – she’s happy…and contented and…and
living
her life, getting knocked up and –”

“She isn’t,” my sister says in a subdued voice. “She hasn’t told the kids, because she wanted to tell you
first
. She’s guilty as hell about this pregnancy, and she’s struggling with the whole thing, Ritchie.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Seriously, she’s depressed over it.”

“Aw, c’mon, ’Rena.
Depressed
?”

“Hey, it’s true. Ask Bear.” She looks at him. 

After a short silence, Bear leans forward, places both hands on the table and looks me in the eye. “She cried, Big. When she mentioned you, she cried. She’s not
living
her life like you think she is. Obviously she feels a void because you’ve distanced yourself from her.”

I roll my eyes.
Oh please!

“Listen, it’s big news, but she hasn’t told her kids, until she tells
you
, Big. Holding back from them
because
of you. What does that tell you, man? Maybe it’s time to man up and mend fences, bro?”

It’s easy for him to talk. For a while we sit in strained silence. I break it first. “She cried?” My voice is still sneering.

“Yeah. Yesterday.” He stabs the table with his index finger. “I felt for her, ’cause man, she doesn’t know how to fix it, Big. I have a feeling she would fix it if she could. And Vlad, he feels pretty helpless. I can tell. And it’s kinda…sad, that they’re so…
sad
. Especially right now.”

“So you want me to be happy for them?
Appease
their conscience so that they can be happy? You want me to do that?”

“No, Ritchie,” Arena says. “I don’t…I mean,
we
don’t want you to do anything. We just want you to know. That’s all.”

I lock eyes with my sister as my brain tries to process what I have just learned. I must be happy for Liefie. She gutted me, but I must be happy for her. Without a word, I get up, push back my chair, grab my keys off the table and stride out of the house.

My sister gets up and runs after me. “Ritchie!”

Ignoring her, I get into my Jeep and cruise home, disturbed about Liefie’s  pregnancy, disturbed about Vlad’s feeling of helplessness, and most of all, disturbed to know that Liefie cried. Strange as it may seem, I don’t want her to hurt. Strange as it may seem. Sure, I wanted to hurt her,
then
. But I no longer want her to hurt.

I brake at a red light and stare ahead. If only
I
knew how to fix things. If only I knew how to heal the scars around my heart that her deception has left.

A car behind me honks. I look into my rear view mirror. The driver points at the green light. “Move!” he mouths.

I drive on.
If only…

RITCHIE

I’m on my way to drop off my girls at their mother’s house, like I usually do a couple of times a week. Except today is different. Today is the day I make my peace with my ex-wife. I’m surprised at myself for being in the right head space to do this. I guess being in love with Rival, being so happy and feeling almost…
fulfilled
, is causing me to want to shed the boulder around my shoulder. Arena is right – it is time. Of course I’m a little nervous – it’s a big step to stop my ax-grinding with Liefie. 

“Are we there yet, Dadda?”

I laugh. “Ally, we haven’t been driving for a minute!”

“I know, Dadda,” my daughter says, kicking her legs, her blue eyes twinkling like stars. “It’s a habit, alright?”

“Alright,” I say.

“It’s a
bad
habit, Pig,” Becky pipes. “Tell her, Pig. It’s a
bad
habit.”

I chuckle. “Becky’s right, it’s a bad habit,” I say. “And you,” I point at Becky in my rear view mirror,

“stop calling me Pig!” 

Becky gives me a toothy grin before she sticks her tongue out at me.

I hit her with one of my mother’s lines: “Keep doing that and your face is going to remain like that.”

“No, no, no, Pig,” she says. “Warren said that’s not true.”

“Warren?”

“Yes, he’s smart; he knows stuff,” Becky says.

“True,” Ally concurs. “Warren’s heaps smart. And he’s got a great mammary.” 

“
Memory
,” I correct as I pull up at Liefie’s.

The moment they see Liefie’s house, the kids are raring to go.

“Don’t undo your seat belts!” I warn.

Before I can park and switch off my engine, not only have my daughters unbuckled their seat belts, but they’re also on their feet.

“You girls!” 

Liefie and Vlad rush out to meet our girls when they hear my Jeep. They wave at me and I wave back. As usual. But today, I don’t drive off. I park the Jeep, go to the boot and remove a gigantic baby bouquet from it. It’s yellow and white, with baby bottles, bibs with funny sayings, diapers, baby outfits and a whole lot of other lotions and stuff. According to Gaytri, my florist, everything in this bouquet will come in handy when the baby arrives.  

When I turn around, Vlad and Liefie are staring at me with wide eyes. After a slight hesitation, I walk up to them and thrust the bouquet to Liefie. “Heard you got knocked up. Congratulations!”

Immediately, her eyes fill with tears, her bottom lip trembles, and she does not take the bouquet from me.

“C’mon, Liefie, this fucking thing’s as heavy as you are,” I say.

Quickly, she takes the bouquet and holds it close. After a few moments, she places it on the patio table and lunges to hug me. I hug her back, while Vlad shifts around in the background and clears his throat several times. None of us speak. There is no need for words right now – my embrace says it all.