Read Online The Secret Lives of Married Women by Elissa Wald - Free Book Online Page A

he saw me as a little scandalous, a little wild—and that, to him, this lent me some measure of glamour. My evening at the strip joint with Bryce, for instance, hadn’t diminished his crush on me, and perhaps it had even done the opposite. It was possible that Stas would secretly enjoy such a movie but hate the idea of other men watching it. I realized I had no idea what he would think or how he would feel.
    But the idea of sharing a secret with Jack—any secret, but especially this one—made me feel so ill that after I’d dropped off the Hyundai and gotten Clara, I had to bring a pillow into her room and lie on the floor while she played.
    * * *
    “Is that the loaner car?” Stas asked. “That Pontiac?”
    He was just in from work, and he was referring to the dark blue sedan parked on the street out front. We were in the kitchen, and I was trying hard not to reveal any hint of my own distress.
    “Yes.”
    “Well, why did you put it there instead of the driveway or garage?”
    I’d anticipated this, and had a ready explanation. “Earlier today, Jack’s boss came by and asked if he could put a dumpster in our driveway for a couple of hours.”
    “A dumpster?”
    “I guess he had more trash than he could haul away in his flatbed. It was still there when I got back.”
    “Oh. Okay.”
    It was a risk, saying this, but just a slight one. I could not see any reason for Stas to ever bring it up with Jack’s boss. And I knew Stas wouldn’t care enough about the Pontiac to bother moving it. He liked to have our own cars in the garage at night, but the Pontiac was old and belonged to someone else; we weren’t even formally liable for it.
    The real reason I’d parked at the curb was to throw Jack off. He wouldn’t know the car was mine, and tomorrow it would look like I wasn’t home. The idea of a full day’s reprieve from Jack was worth a meaningless lie to Stas.
    Rae’s question at the bar came back to me: how much longer could that job last? The only real exchange I’d had with the boss had to do with just how long he and Jack might be there.
    “So how soon do you think we can expect new neighbors?” I’d asked, as if looking forward to meeting a nice family instead of counting the days until the work was done and Jack was gone.
    “Oh, you know what they say,” the boss said cheerfully. “There are three speeds in construction: slow, dead and reverse.” He chuckled, saying this. “We’ve got a ways to go yet.”
    I thought of calling Rae, but how could she help me? I had yet to heed the advice she had already given me: to tell Stas about the way things were with Jack. I thought of calling my sister, but Payback wasn’t something I could talk about with her.
    In bed that night beside Stas, I could not get warm. Panic lodged in my throat, made it hard to draw a deep breath. I clutched at him with icy fingertips, pressed my feet against his legs.
    “Leda, do you feel all right?” he asked.
    “Stas, hold me,” I whispered.
    His arms encircled me in the dark.
    “Is something the matter?”
    “I think I might be getting sick,” I said. My teeth were chattering.
    “Poor little girl.”
    Within another minute, he was asleep again.
    * * *
    The next morning I woke to a heavy thud, as if something had been dropped on the floor downstairs. I sat up with the blanket held to my chest, eyes wide, heart pounding.
    I was alone in the house. Stas had brought Clara to preschool on his way to work; they were long gone.
    A minute went by, maybe two, and I heard nothing else. I wondered if I had dreamed it. I wondered too if the situation with Jack weren’t making me a little crazy.
    Just as I lay back down, a definite clattering. Like an object made of flimsy metal striking wood. And then the unmistakable sound of footsteps: a man’s, heavy and deliberate. Coming from below, from inside the house.
    Even in the midst of my fear, which flooded my mouth with a metallic tang, it occurred to me that whoever was