The Secret Lives of Housewives (9 page)

“You only have one car?” Cait seemed incredulous.

Angie slowly nodded. “Yup. I've been angling for a used van but we just can't swing it right now. So, sadly, once Tony's back at work I'll need all the weekend time I can get to do all the things I need to.”

“Listen,” Cait said. “That's totally out of the question.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and steepled her fingers. “I'm not willing to give up on our lunches. What do you say, ladies?”

“Not a chance,” Monica said.

“No way,” Eve said softly, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Cait brightened. “I can't see why I can't drive you wherever you need to go, say one day a week until we figure out this car thing.”

“Thanks for the offer, Cait,” Angie said, ducking her chin, “but that's not an option.”

“Why not?”

“You've never tried to get anything done with two ten-month-olds. It's a nightmare that I can't inflict on you.”

Cait sipped her water. “You wouldn't be inflicting it on me. I'm volunteering, so don't make any snap decisions. We have a few weeks to think about it and I know we can work this out. Anyway, I'd love to get to know your twins. In case Logan ever gets me pregnant.”

“Is that a possibility?” Monica asked.

“Not with our sex life,” Cait said with a toss of her head. “We tried for quite a while and it didn't happen, but lightning might just strike and I want to be ready.” She quickly turned to Angie and added, “Look at it as taking on a teaching assignment.”

“Cute,” Angie said, “but no. Anyway, I've still got a few weeks to meet you guys like this. And Monica, next week you'll have to let us know about your date. We could all use a little vicarious hot sex.” She stood up and grinned. “Well, at least I could. Good sex for Tony and me is just a fond memory.”

“I can imagine,” Monica said.

“Yeah.” Angie sighed. “We've barely got the energy for a quickie before one of us falls asleep. This has to get better, right?”

“That's what I gather from my sisters,” Monica said. “The first year is the worst, but then they only had one at a time to deal with.”

“See you all next week?” Angie said, brightening.

“Of course,” Cait and Monica said simultaneously.

Eve stared at the screen of her cell phone, shook her head, then dropped it carefully into her pocket. She glanced at the check and fumbled in her purse for her wallet. “Me, too. I'll be here. Next week, same time, same place.”

 

When the two other women were gone, Cait looked at Monica. “What do you think's up with Eve?”

“What about Eve?”

“She puts that phone beside her plate and glances at it just about every minute. Last week, when it rang, she ran out of here like her ass was on fire. Think it's a guy?”

“Don't jump to conclusions. It might just be she's expecting a call from a friend or some family member.”

“Ten bucks says it's a guy. We'll have to find out next week.”

“Don't make her crazy pumping her for information. If she wants to keep things private, that's her right.”

Cait pulled a few folded bills from her pocket. “It's my right to see what I can find out.” She stared at the check and counted the money Eve and Angie had left. She added her money to the stack. “What are you going to do about Dan? He's really too good to just dump.”

“I don't know what I'm going to do.”

“You know it's not a long-term decision. Maybe you'll have dinner together and discover you two have no chemistry. No bedding potential. Then you can just drop it.”

Monica felt her nipples tighten at the thought of Dan in her bed. “Oh, there's chemistry all right. That's not the problem.”

“You're overthinking this, Monica. Just go for it. How often do you meet a nice guy with potential?”

Monica sighed. “How often indeed?”

T
hat afternoon, as Monica was going over a stack of media guides, she found herself debating whether to go out with Dan. When her phone rang she was ready to say yes. “Hello?”

“Hi, Monica, it's Bonnie.”

Expecting to hear from Dan, she was surprised to hear her sister. Once she rearranged her brain, she heard the catch in Bonnie's voice. “You sound terrible, sis,” she said, suddenly frightened. “Is one of the kids sick?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Monica heard her sister start to cry. “Oh, Monica. Jake's leaving me,” she said, hiccupping. “He's got a girlfriend.”

“He's what?” Monica rubbed her temples.
Here we go again. Just like Mom and Dad. I was just with Bonnie and Jake last weekend and everything seemed so good. It just proves that you never know. It can come like a bolt out of the blue.

“Calm down, babe. Take a few deep breaths.”

She heard Bonnie inhale and let her breath out slowly several times. “I've been worried for the past few months. He's been distant, spending more time at work, you know, all the symptoms. I couldn't believe it. Thursday he called and told me that he had to stay in the city for a late meeting and they'd put him up in a hotel.” Monica heard her sister take another deep breath. “He didn't sound right so when he got home from work last evening I asked him. Right out. ‘Is there someone else?' I said. He said yes. He's been doing one of the junior attorneys. Carly McDermott. I know her. We've talked at company functions.” She broke down again. “How she must have been laughing at me. It's humiliating. She's ten years younger than I am and wears skirts cut up to her thigh.” Bonnie was crying again. “She's so good-looking, I don't know, like the district attorneys on
Law and Order
.”

“Calm down.” When she thought her sister could go on, Monica said, “So what happened? What did he say?”

“He said he'd been seeing her for almost three months. I carried on like a banshee but I didn't know what to do. I told him he was a shit and he agreed, but he said he loved her and that, since I now knew everything, he was moving out. Into her apartment in the city.”

The weeping was almost too much for Monica to bear and she felt her eyes fill. “Oh, sis. I'll be right over.”

“No, don't come over,” Bonnie said, regaining some of her composure. “I'm taking the kids to Mom's for a few days while I sort some stuff out.”

Their mother lived in eastern Pennsylvania in a house easily large enough to hold Bonnie and the three children. “Do the kids know?”

“We told them together a little while ago. Funny, but they weren't as shocked as I thought they'd be. Maybe they're more perceptive than I am. They've all got friends whose parents are divorced so it's not as much of a surprise to them as it is to me.”

“Oh, Bonnie, I'm so sorry.”

“I know. Me, too. I figure that it will all look better after a few days in the country.”

“I'm sure you're right. Is there anything I can do?”

“We can talk at length when I get back but right now I'm having trouble holding myself together. There is something you can do. Call Janet for me, will you? I can't bear to go through this one more time. I told Mom, then you, and that's all I can deal with. Would you call her for me? Please?”

“Done.”

Again crying softly, Bonnie said, “Can I call you in a few days?”

“Of course, sweetie. I'm here for you whenever you need me, whatever you need me to do.”

“I love you, sis.”

“Back at you.”

As she pushed the off switch Monica thought about Jake. He was a nice enough guy but then weren't all men a bit sleazy underneath? Although she had a briefcase full of work, she went to the kitchen and opened a Sam Adams. Drinking the beer directly from the bottle, she quickly dialed her other sister's number, and when Janet answered Monica filled her in on all the details.

“God,” Janet said. “That sucks. I always thought of them as the perfect couple.”

“Yeah, me too, but it seems that no marriage, no relationship of any kind, is safe nowadays. Every guy cheats and they all lie.”

“Not everyone. I know that Walt's all mine.”

“Then you're one of the lucky ones. The very few lucky ones.”

“Maybe I am but it does make you wonder.”

They spent several more minutes talking, then, vowing to support Bonnie in any way she needed, ended the conversation.

When Dan called an hour later, Monica declined his invitation. “Okay,” he said, “but be aware that I'll ask again.”

“I'm really sorry. I just can't.”

A few minutes later, Monica was on the phone again, her voice almost abnormally bright. “Hi, Gerry, I was just confirming our meeting Wednesday.” She knew Gerry Petrowski would be in his office on Saturday. A media buyer for a large auto dealer, he was almost as much of a workaholic as she was. Their “meeting” Wednesday was at a hotel in the city for a quick, no-strings evening of drinks and probably sex.

“Sure, hon. I'll see you in the bar at seven. Dinner, drinks, and maybe a little hanky panky.”

“I'll bring the panky, you bring the hanky,” she said, her voice artificially bright. “Maybe we'll use that hanky for a blindfold.”

His rich laugh was warming. Each knew exactly what to expect from the other. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

 

At home a mile away, Dan Crosby sat in his recliner, the phone still in his hand. So Monica had thought better of having dinner with him. He wondered why. They had spent such a delightful time sitting by the pool and talking about everything and nothing. They seemed to enjoy the same things. She told him about her job with the advertising agency, amusing him with anecdotes about her clients.

When he'd mentioned that he was a computer geek, she'd grinned and given him the once-over. He knew he was good to look at. It was difficult not to when women went all silly around him, but she had seemed different, enjoying looking at him but taking a more serious interest in him as a person. As he gave her a brief introduction to the UNIX operating system, her eyes didn't glaze over and she asked a few insightful questions. She wasn't a computer person, but she obviously knew how to use her company's systems and get the most out of them. All in all, a very interesting woman. That morning after yoga class she'd given him all the right come-on vibes, but she'd just turned him down flat. Could he have been that wrong?

He had no idea why he was so hung up on this particular woman but she appealed to him in some indefinable way. She seemed charming, bright, interesting, and he was curious to find out why she was sending such mixed messages. He leaned farther back in his well-worn lounger and pictured Monica, naked on his lap. Sexy? Sure, and that was important to him, but there was more. Well, he told himself, he'd find out why the sudden brush-off and then…He wasn't about to give up on her. Not just yet.

 

Cait spent Saturday afternoon at a Friends of the Library fund-raiser and arrived back at her house a little after four. As usual, Logan was gone, but he'd reached her earlier on her cell and told her that he wasn't going to be home until after six. She quickly logged onto Paul's Place and found that Hotguy344 was also logged in. She wondered whether he did anything but sit on his computer, cruising for willing women, but found she didn't care. Getting her kicks was all she was interested in.

Once she and Hotguy344 were in a private room, she dragged her blouse off and began to caress her breasts.

Cait relaxed. For a moment she had worried that she'd told him too much, but since he was so far away it didn't matter. Alaska. She'd never been there but she and Logan had talked about taking a cruise on the inland waterway someday. Maybe she'd ask Hotguy a little about it. Another time.

For the next half hour, she and Hotguy344 played. She climaxed twice, and by the time Logan arrived home and they dressed for dinner, she was totally mellowed out.

 

In Paramus, New Jersey, less than an hour from Cait's house, Nick Montrose, aka Hotguy344, sat with his fingers on his keyboard. Loverlady214 interested him. Sexually she was open and easy to please, ready for playing in different realms. Just his type. And they were practically neighbors. Maybe he'd find out exactly who and where she was and they could get together for real, husband or no husband.

He spent a good deal of his time on-line. As a night watchman for a trucking company, he had a great many seriously boring hours at work. At forty-two, he was short and stocky, dark complected, with big hands, a thick moustache, and a full, slightly shaggy beard. He'd thought of shaving several times, but the beard fit the Alaskan mountain man persona he wanted to convey.

He'd been playing in chat rooms for several years and occasionally ferreted out personal information about his on-line partners. Several times he'd arranged to meet a woman “up close and personal” and had some “interesting” experiences. A few times things had gotten a bit heavy, but he always made sure that his Alaska identity was intact and that the women never knew his real name or even the state he lived in.

As time passed he'd found getting personal information easier and easier. A carefully phrased question here, an innocuous statement there, and bingo. He knew all he needed to know to use the Internet to find out the rest. It had become ridiculously simple.

Alaska. That was a really great ploy. He'd discovered that women were much freer with information if they thought he was so far away. No danger here, they'd reason. No possibility of being found out, of someone telling her husband, of meeting Hotguy344 in the supermarket. He'd even read up on life in Fairbanks, wandered several Web sites to get the flavor of the place. That business with the temperature was courtesy of weather.com.

Before he'd chosen Fairbanks he'd thought a lot about where to “put himself.” He wanted to be about as far away as he could manage but he quickly decided that outside the U.S. wouldn't work. He didn't know enough about Europe or Asia, and anyway, he'd reasoned, the time zones were too different. Fairbanks, however, was just four hours earlier than the East Coast and only an hour earlier than the west.

It had worked like a charm. Two months ago, when he was Superstud1234, he'd visited a willing thirty-year-old single woman in western Pennsylvania. He'd told her he was visiting a relative in the neighborhood and they'd set up a meeting at a local restaurant. As usually happened, she wasn't the thirty-year-old blonde she'd told him she was. Rather, she turned out to be forty if she was a day, with the gray starting to slip into her hair. He wasn't the twenty-five-year-old stud he'd made himself out to be either. He'd warned her that he didn't really look the way he'd described himself in their chat sessions and had been charmingly honest about his age and looks. She'd said that it wouldn't matter. It hadn't.

They'd adjourned to her house right after dinner. She'd said she was interested in bondage and so he'd tied her to the bed, then fucked her over and over for more than three hours. The sight of her soft white body immobilized made him crazy. He'd slapped her around a little, and although she'd asked him to stop he'd known that she really wanted it. He had given her just a few more slaps, watching the red splotches appear on the insides of her thighs, and she'd cried. He'd loved the power that he'd felt at that moment.

He savored the feeling for a while, then he'd untied her and apologized for getting carried away. He'd given her some bullshit about her being so sexy that he'd just lost control. She'd reluctantly forgiven him, but she'd told him she didn't want to see him again. Oh, well. Easy come, easy come. There were so many fish in the sea, or on the 'Net, as it were. Now he was Hotguy344 and he thought Loverlady214 just might be a possibility. She was married, but they could get around that without too much difficulty. She said she was twenty-five but he figured she'd deducted a few years. Or maybe added some. Maybe she was very young and fresh. He'd quickly realized that women usually pretended to be something they weren't. Was she really married? Probably. People were much more honest when they just blurted out information. Well, he'd just see what he could discover about her and maybe…