Fat Fridays (3 page)

“Is there a catch somewhere? Ted isn’t exactly known as being easy to deal with.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure this so-called generosity of his won’t last. No doubt, we’ll end up in court with him trying to pay me less after the glow of being with that...that...woman wears off.” Sukie caught her lip with her teeth and frowned. “I don’t think Emmy Lou was the first. You know how he was at our neighborhood parties—he always had his arm around one of the women. Remember?”

Betsy was quiet a moment. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but he even hit on me one time.”

Sukie’s eyes rounded. “You? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it was a crude joke at the time, nothing more. You know how nasty he could be when he’d had too many drinks. God knows, at my age and with my body, I’m not exactly a sex goddess.”

Sukie grimaced. “I’m sorry he did that to you.  I didn’t know. I was so stupid.”

“Oh, hon, it’s just that you’re so nice, it probably never occurred to you that your husband was such a lyin’ cheatin’...”

“Bastard,” Sukie finished. Her nostrils flared. “I was such a fool...”

Betsy shrugged. “Well, life has some hard lessons for all of us. Believe me, I know. What is it Lily Tomlin said? ‘Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse.’ I know it seems like life sucks right now, but this whole thing may turn out to be a good thing. You couldn’t have been that happy with Ted. Not really.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind,” Betsy said, wishing she hadn’t been so blunt. “I’m way outta line here. We’ll talk about it some other time.”

Silence filled the room as they each took another sip of wine.

Sukie broke into the quiet. “So, tell me, how are you doing since Rich died? It’s been almost two years. How have you managed? I need to hear the gritty truth from someone who’s gone through the process of learning to live on her own.”

How was she doing? She was doing, well... great.
Betsy stirred in her seat, trying to find the right words. “This may sound strange, but I feel younger, and in some ways, happier. Living with Rich wasn’t what I’d expected.” She held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong. He was nice enough, but as bland as unsalted and unbuttered grits. I miss having someone else in the house, of course, though I don’t feel totally alone. Richie and Sarah and the kids are only forty minutes away.” 

“I didn’t realize...“

Betsy cut her off. “Rich was a good man. He didn’t boss me around or abuse me or purposely do anything at all to make me unhappy.”

“But...?” Sukie gave her a steady look.

Betsy took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t opened her mouth. “There was no real spark between us. It was just the state of our union,” she ended, hoping for humor.

“I’m sorry.” Sukie’s voice held a note of concern that made Betsy’s stomach curl inside at what she’d revealed.

“Good God! I’ve never told another soul about the way it was with Rich and me. It must be the wine.”

Sukie clasped her hand. “I’m glad we can totally level with one another.”

Betsy nodded, though she felt guilty for badmouthing Rich. It wasn’t his fault that he never truly made her happy. It was hers. 

“Did you ever consider divorce?” Sukie asked.

“From Rich? Never. That wasn’t an option for conservative, church-going people like us. I went ahead with my daily routines and kept busy with Richie, even though I sometimes felt like I was drowning.” Betsy set her wine glass down. She’d had enough wine and enough confessing.

“We all have problems of one kind or another, Betsy,” Sukie assured her, then smiled. “On a more pleasant note, how are Garrett and Caitlin?”

Betsy smiled happily. “Garrett is proud to be in first grade, old enough to take the bus. Caitlin looks so grownup. She just had her ears pierced for her eighth birthday. I love them both dearly.”

As if on cue, Bestsy’s cell phone rang. She knew without looking at caller ID who it was. She pinched her lips together. “It’s Richie’s Sarah. Bets on whether she asks me to babysit? It’s happening every weekend.”

Sukie clucked her tongue sympathetically.

Sarah greeted Betsy in a rush, her voice high and demanding. “Betsy, I really need your help! It’s been a busy week and the kids are driving me crazy. I need to get away and have a break from them and from everything.”

In Betsy’s opinion, Sarah didn’t know what busy or hard work meant, unless it was trying to keep up with the neighbors in the high-priced neighborhood in which Sarah had insisted she and Richie live. Sarah was never satisfied with anything. She constantly shopped to make things “nicer”.

Betsy sighed. “So, what do you want me to do this time?”

“Take the kids for the whole weekend. Richie can drop them off in an hour. He’s agreed to take me to the Biltmore Estate for a weekend of rest and pampering. Isn’t he a doll?”

More like a puppet, Betsy thought grimly.

“So, can you do it for me? Please?”

Betsy sighed. “Okay. It’s the third weekend in a row, but you know how much I love the kids.”

“Great. I have their overnight bags packed and ready to go. Oh, by the way, how are you?”

Betsy rolled her eyes at the afterthought. “I’m fine. Busy. Make sure the kids bring one of their movies. It’s been a hectic week.”

“Okay. See you Sunday afternoon when we pick them up. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Sarah.” Betsy disconnected the phone and turned to Sukie. “Another weekend Sarah has to get away from the kids. I swear I don’t know how Richie puts up with her. But, believe me, as the wicked Mother-in-Law, I don’t say a word. I tried it once and it caused a huge fight between us.” At the memory of Sarah’s wounding words, tears stung Betsy’s eyes.

“A difficult situation,” Sukie said, commiserating with her. “I can’t wait for my little one. Madeleine and Rob are beside themselves with joy over their first baby. They’ve been reading books and attending birthing classes together. Ted went into a tailspin when he heard he was about to become a grandfather. I sometimes think that’s what started the whole break between us. Pathetic, huh?” Sukie lowered her gaze.

Betsy tried to think of one of her cute sayings, but nothing came to mind. Life was bittersweet. Didn’t she know it?

T
iffany Wright drove right home after work, glad the week was over. She loved her job, the ladies in the Fat Fridays group, even her boss, but it had been five days of hellish tension both at work and at home. She needed a couple of days to relax, to hang out with Beau and get back on track. She decided they’d barbeque chicken on the grill, have a few beers, and keep it nice and easy. It had been a while since they’d had a weekend like that. Maybe then, things between them would seem better.

Pulling up to the front of the house, Tiffany let out a groan. Her father-in-law’s fancy Mercedes sat in the driveway like a big black cloud of doom. Tiffany parked alongside it. She prayed Regard had left her mother-in-law, Muffy, at home, that he’d just stopped by on his way to or from Charleston, and would soon be on his way.

Seeing Muffy’s blond head in the window, Tiffany let out a sigh. Her mother-in-law was married to
The
Beauregard Wright Jr., a prominent lawyer in Charleston, and was a royal pain in the ass. Not that Tiffany could ever say that to her husband. Beau thought his parents, Muffy and Regard, were fine as far as “rents” went. But then, why wouldn’t he think that? They spoiled him rotten.

The curse words Tiffany had grown up with flashed in her mind, but she’d learned not to say them aloud. Her mother-in-law’s smooth, over-sprayed hair would frizz in a minute if she knew what Tiffany really thought about her, the family’s phoniness and the stomach-clenching way they made her feel.

“Surprise!” Muffy burst from the house in one of her dressy St. John suits, wearing a bright smile that made Tiffany cringe.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Tiffany forced herself to leave the safety of the car.

“Regard and I are taking you to the club for dinner,” Muffy announced. “Regard had a speech to give in Atlanta and we’ve come for the weekend. We haven’t seen you and Beau for a couple of weeks now.”

Tiffany pasted a fake smile on her face, and told herself to chill, that it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. But, really, she couldn’t think of anything worse. She could never be herself with Muffy. Oh, yes, she put on a good show for her mother-in-law, for both of them, really, but it was hard for her to hide who she really was. She was no debutante from the South. She was several rungs below the Wrights on the social ladder and always would be.

“How’s our little princess?” Regard boomed when she walked into the kitchen. There was little real warmth in his voice.

Beau grinned at her. “Dad and I are going to play golf tomorrow. You and Mom can go shopping or whatever y’all want. Buy as much as you want, as long as you spend
their
money, not
ours
.” He beamed at his parents as if he’d made a wonderful joke.

Tiffany’s heart sank. She hated it when he became their spoiled little boy. They’d been married less than a year, and what with his parents constantly barging in, Tiffany sometimes felt as if she and Beau hardly knew each other. Regard and Muffy had bought them the house as a wedding gift, but that didn’t mean his parents could drop in any frickin’ time they felt like it, did it? Tiffany clenched her fists, so frustrated she wanted to cry.

Muffy eyed her with disapproval. “Maybe we’ll go to a spa, get a nice massage. Our little princess looks like she could use it.”

Beau and his father gave Tiffany looks of satisfaction, but she’d heard the not-so-subtle criticism behind Muffy’s words. His parents hadn’t wanted Beau to marry her. But their darling son had convinced them and her that it would work out, that he had no intention of marrying anyone else. He’d said they were meant to be together.

At first, Tiffany had thought so too.

###

S
hopping with Muffy, doing lunch together, Tiffany forced herself to be polite, but she wanted to let loose a rebel yell that would scare off Beau’s family. She and Beau had really needed some quality time together.

Getting ready for bed that night, Tiffany felt almost numb from hiding her frustration.

Beau frowned at her. “What’s the matter? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

Tiffany was about to spill her feelings and stopped. He didn’t get it. He never had.

She slipped on her pajamas, climbed into bed and lay down, careful to keep to her side of it. Beau slid over to her and gave her a hopeful look. Their sex life had always been good, and normally she might have responded. Not tonight, she thought, emotionally drained. Not once had he defended her against his mother’s subtle and not so subtle criticisms all day. And if she heard the words poor princess again, she’d scream.

Hugging her pillow, Tiffany lay awake. At first, she’d thought Beau’s parents were really nice and very sweet for wanting Beau to have the best of everything. Now, she knew his parents for the pseudo people they were—as cold as a winter storm on the Kansas prairie where she’d grown up.

Muffy thought Tiffany was after their family name, their money. Nothing could be further from the truth. She wanted Beau to be the young man she’d thought she knew, the handsome guy in a tee shirt and torn jeans who helped her ward off a creep at a concert where they’d first met. There’d been no indication then that he was anything other than a regular college student having fun. He’d even had to borrow money from her to get a beer after the show.

Unhappiness gripped Tiffany like an iron fist. She let out a sigh and rolled over. Maybe over time things will change, she thought, blinking away the threat of tears.

###

T
iffany awoke to lemony sunshine curving through the slats of their window blinds like a welcoming smile. She got up and walked over to the window. The sky was the bright deep shade of blue that promised good things. Putting aside past worries, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a cozy sweatshirt and went downstairs.

Beau and his mother sat in the kitchen. Muffy was dressed for church and by the resigned look on Beau’s face, he’d already received a lecture from her.

She shot Tiffany a look of disapproval. “You two better hurry up and get ready. We’re going to the ten o’clock service at the Methodist church.”

Beau shook his head. “But, Mom, I told you, we don’t go there anymore.”

Muffy’s nostrils flared. She shot an accusing glance at Tiffany and turned to Beau. “I raised you to be a God fearin’ man, Beauregard Wright the third. Now you and Tiffany go upstairs and get ready. You’ve got to make the right impression in this small town.”

Beau gave Tiffany a helpless look and got to his feet.

Tiffany followed him up the stairs, glad there wasn’t a gun in the house. She might’ve used it. She’d been raised a Catholic and was still trying to decide which church she wanted to attend, if any at all.

At church, Muffy and Regard headed directly to a front pew where they could be seen. The four of them settled on the pew’s green cushions and sat, tensely ignoring each other. Beau put an arm around Tiffany’s shoulder, as if they were as close as they’d once been. It felt good, though Tiffany wondered if this was for show, too.

It was quiet in the car on the way home from church. The minister’s sermon had been about truth. Sitting in the back seat of the Mercedes, Tiffany felt like a fraud. She carried Beau’s last name but she’d give it up in a minute, if she could.

After a light lunch, Regard announced it was time for them to leave. The tension in Tiffany’s shoulders eased. Seeing them off, Tiffany stood with Beau in the driveway and waved as their car disappeared down the street. She smiled and turned to Beau.

“Alone at last! I could hardly wait!”

Beau glowered at her. “Now don’t go starting in on that. With my lousy salary at the firm, we could never afford to go out to nice restaurants, play golf at the club and all that stuff. Stuff I’m used to.”

“But, Beau...” she began.

He turned away from her and headed into the house.