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On the Rebound Page 3


  Brandon raised his eyebrow. "Her new teacher, the one who replaced Miss Eldermire."

  "Oh," Ashley said and yawned. "I just can't keep up with the attrition rate at your prep school, Alisha. It's appalling."

  Alisha looked at her mother, confused, and then turned to him.

  "Daddy, what's attrition?" Alisha asked him after Ashley's comment. That was another irritating habit that Ashley had picked up; talking above the children's level. Brandon sighed and explained attrition and then appalling while he cleaned off the front of Ariel's dress.

  Ashley stood sipping her tea and looking at them as if she was not a part of the family. He hated that. It was as if she gave birth to them and then handed them over to him. He did not feel as if he was co-parenting or part of a cohesive unit.

  He had the full responsibility for his girls and their mother was right there like a bystander. He had given in and hired a sitter a year after Ariel was born. He could not play Mr. Mom, juggle his busy job as head of a university engineering department, and work on lucrative private contracts at the same time.

  Ariel did not share much of a bond with her mother because of Ashley's hands-off approach to parenting, and Brandon was beginning to get worried. When he mentioned it to Ashley they argued, so he was choosing the time carefully to mention it again.

  "Ariel has an appointment with the dentist today," he reminded Ashley. It was on the calendar taped on the notice board above the breakfast nook and circled in bright red, but of course he had to remind Ashley or else Ariel would not be taken to the dentist.

  "Oh," Ashley looked at him and then shrugged, "let Juliet take her."

  "Today is Juliet's day off." He felt himself getting irritated, as he so often did these days when Ashley spoke.

  "Then have your mom take her. She was complaining the other day that she doesn't see them as often as she should. Maybe she can take them for the night too."

  Brandon sighed. "Okay, whatever. Arrange it with her."

  He made it very clear from his tone that he was not going to do the arranging too. He picked up Ariel. "Let's get you cleaned up. Come on, Alisha, you too."

  When he came back from the bathroom Ashley was still standing at the counter staring through the window at the pool, a faraway look in her eyes.

  "I'll be home late," he said abruptly.

  "Okay." She swung her head around, and a few tendrils of her hair caught in her eyes. She pulled it back, gave him one of those smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes and then tucked her hair behind her ears.

  "Bye Mommy," Alisha called from the door.

  Ashley waved and smiled.

  Ariel didn't turn back for a kiss or tell her bye and Ashley didn't force it.

  She cheerfully said, "Bye guys" and continued staring out the window in that apathetic way of hers that was grinding on Brandon's last nerve.

  He felt as if he was going to blow a blood vessel just thinking about how cold and distant she was from her own children.

  Ariel put her hand trustingly in his and looked up at him, a grin on her face.

  He felt his blood pressure decreasing and he smiled at his daughter. She looked nothing like him or Ashley; she was light, almost biracial, with golden hair and eyes. His parents joked that Ariel must have reached back far into the gene pool and gotten something from some unknown ancestor.

  He strapped her into the car seat and watched as Alisha sat in the car, her expression serious. She was the quiet, introspective child who loved to read and to learn 'big' words; in that regard her mother was surely helping her out, he conceded grudgingly.

  He smiled at her warmly and made sure that her seat belt was fastened. She didn't look like either him or Ashley either; she was as dark as Ariel was light, with the sweetest little heart-shaped face. She had a pale yellow birthmark on her cheek shaped like a heart. She was going to be an extremely beautiful girl when she grew up--and bright too.

  Already she was smarter than the children her own age. They were sending her to classes for gifted children. Her teachers were contemplating placing her two grade levels above where she was now.

  After dropping Ariel at pre-school and Alisha at prep school he headed to work, listening to the local news station.

  He had a smooth day at the office pushing papers and putting out a potential fire or two. Being head of the department was becoming predictable; even the occasional department crisis was becoming routine. So when his friend, Harold Mercer, called near the end of the day and for the umpteenth time begged him to relocate to Canada to come and work with him in his engineering firm, he was more than amenable to the idea.

  "We need civil engineers, man. Relocate the family and come up."

  Brandon had found himself seriously toying with the idea while Harold gave his usual sales pitch.

  The truth was his family could do with the change; maybe it would be the answer to saving his marriage.

  He hesitated in answering for the first time since Harold had started badgering him to relocate. And as if Harold sensed his hesitancy he pressed, "Just come up for three months in the New Year, and see if you like it."

  "I'll think about it," Brandon had told Harold coolly, not wanting to encourage his friend and end up disappointing him in the long run.

  He could mention it to Ashley and see if she would be willing to relocate. His contract as head of the engineering department was a temporary one and would be up in six weeks. The university was making noises about offering him a permanent contract but he wasn't so sure he wanted that. Paper pushing was never his thing; he liked to be out in the field. Big projects excited him; building roads, highways and stadiums was his main joy.

  He had gone home in a good mood. Maybe this evening, with no kids at home, he could have a heart-to-heart with Ashley. They had not had any meaningful conversation for months, if not years; they could discuss what was next for them.

  He was chafing at the superficiality of their relationship. They had descended into politeness, sometimes going so far as discussing the weather like strangers at a bus stop. Ironically, they hadn't even discussed the weather in weeks, but he wanted more from his marriage. It was beginning to feel like he was in prison, and Ashley was growing more and more distant and non-communicative. It was as if he was living with a hostile cell mate and he was clueless as to why.

  He drove up in the tree-lined driveway and parked behind a Honda Integra with a grinning skeleton on the side. He sighed. The car was a bright yellow, which meant that Ashley had company in the form of Regina, her tattooed and multi-pierced friend from high school. Regina rubbed him the wrong way, with her brash attitude and flippant way of speaking.

  He hated Regina. It was something he was praying about. He shouldn't hate people but usually the thought of Regina was enough to make him angry. He didn't want her around his children and he definitely didn't want her around his wife. She was brash and rude and swore indiscriminately when he was around. He was sure that she did it because she wanted to make him mad.

  In his estimation, Regina was responsible for fifty percent of their marital problems. Whenever she came around she was like a black cloud that announced a coming storm. Her presence was usually enough for Ashley to change into an aloof person with him. He could usually tell if Ashley spoke to Regina or had seen her the day before; she snapped and snarled at him and everyone around her after seeing her.

  Last year he and Ashley had had the mother of all showdowns when she had gotten a butterfly tattoo on her lower back, matching one that Regina had. It had irked him that Ashley was still so impressionable and acted like a vapid teenager when Regina was around, quite unlike the adult that she usually claimed that she was.

  He had a dark scowl on his face when he let himself into the house. It only got darker when he heard giggling coming from upstairs.

  He marched upstairs and pushed open the master bedroom door, which was slightly ajar; he was going to yell. He didn't want Regina in his bedroom. He was going to tell her to get
out of his house and make it permanent. He didn't care if Ashley found his draconian measures offensive.

  He pushed the slightly ajar door and realized two things at the same time. One: his wife was naked and on top of Regina. Both of them were giggling and thrashing around on the bed in the throes of passion.

  And two: he was an idiot. A first class idiot who should have seen that there was more to their friendship than them being mere 'besties' who hung out together. All the signs had been there through the years.

  Regina dressed and acted like a man. Regina being possessive over Ashley to the point of discomfort. Regina telling him on the eve of his wedding that he would have to share Ashley with her.

  He had stood at the door for the longest time, a ringing in his ear. His voice had fled and there was a haze surrounding his vision.

  When Ashley had sensed that they were no longer alone and had looked over at him, he could not speak. He imagined that he must have looked like a kicked dog. He wasn't even mad. He was disappointed, a bone-deep disappointment that had rooted him to the floor.

  He registered that Ashley had jumped up from her friend's naked body and wrapped herself in a robe and that Regina had had the gall to sneer at him, lying on her side, her small breasts still glistening with Ashley's spittle. She laughed at him.

  "Hi Brandon, you should have announced that you were home. We could have finished up before."

  "Shut up, Regina," Ashley hissed. "Brandon, listen, I can explain." She yanked up a robe that was discarded at the foot of the bed and covered her bare breasts. Her brown eyes were glittering with fearful anxiety. "Please...this isn't what you think..."

  "It isn't?" Brandon could not recall ever making so much effort to speak. His initial shock was melting into rage and a sickening sense of disbelief.

  "We were just playing around...." Ashley urged in the charged silence. She moved closer and made a pleading movement with her hands.

  Regina snorted from the bed. She was still lying there with a pleased curve to her lips, as if she was relishing the drama that was taking place around her.

  "How often do you do this?" Brandon gritted, his pulse beating like a drum. He didn't even know if he was asking the right questions. "Do you do this with the kids in the house?"

  "No!” Ashley squeaked. "It's not as if Regina is a guy or anything, so technically it's not cheating." She reached out for his hand. "It's nothing for you to worry about or even think about. I swear it won't ever happen again, and I've never done this with the kids in the house."

  Brandon backed out of her reach. His mind couldn't grasp the fact that his wife of eight years was telling him that catching her in bed with another person wasn't cheating.

  He felt betrayed. He felt incredulous. He was almost speechless with the thousand and one high volts of emotions rocking through him.

  "I understand that you are shocked and furious but I am sorry," Ashley said in a panicked rush.

  He was not responding and she was wringing her hands guiltily. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

  "How will you make it up to me?" Brandon asked, a sneer in his voice. "Join the two of you in bed and pretend that this never happened?"

  "You would do that?" Ashley asked, relieved. "That would be great wouldn't it, Regina?" She turned to her friend who was still lounging in bed and watching them with a bored expression on her face.

  "I don't think that was a serious offer," Regina said, sensing that Brandon was about to explode.

  A shudder of angry revulsion passed through Brandon. Ashley's stupidity in assuming that his question was a bid to join her in her immoral ménage a trois made him realize that he didn't even know this woman. He was married to her for eight years and he just realized that he was living with and trying to make a marriage work with a stranger.

  "I am leaving," Brandon breathed. "I can't deal with this right now. I may not be able to ever deal with this."

  "You can't be serious!" Ashley gasped in stricken horror. "Just calm down and listen to reason, Brandon. Who is going to take care of Alisha and Ariel if you leave?"

  "Maybe you should, for a change!" Brandon snorted. "But then again, I don't want you around my kids."

  Brandon headed to his walk-in closet for a small travel bag. He realized that he hadn't unpacked from a business trip that he had taken two weeks before at an engineering symposium; he had just dumped the bag in the closet. He took it back up. It had everything that he would need for a week away from home. He would have to get some of the clothes cleaned, though.

  "Brandon!" Ashley walked behind him, her shoulder length hair tousled from Regina's hands. Her lips bee-stung plump. Her big oval shaped eyes fearful. She was a beautiful woman, even with the stench of deception clinging to her.

  He gave her a withering look of reproach that was pregnant with meaning; she had stopped trying to run behind him to explain the unexplainable, to beg him to stay—her lover stubbornly lounging in the marital bed like she belonged there.

  He drove out of the yard without calling Ashley the names that were on the tip of his tongue. He turned off his phone when he saw that Ashley had called him several times. He could not bear to hear her voice, not tonight.

  He stepped out of the shower, his blood still boiling as the scene replayed itself in his head. He dried himself off vigorously and rummaged in the bag for a pajama bottom, put it on and lay on the bed. He didn't expect to sleep but passed out from exhaustion.

  *****

  There were so many things a person had to consider in the aftermath of discovering that your wife was a cheating on you with a woman and had possibly been doing it for years.

  Brandon headed to Nadine's house and ticked off the things that he needed to do in his head. All of them involved leaving Ashley for good, but he had the children to consider. Ashley wouldn't have the first clue about what to do with them. He would be punishing his girls if he stayed away. Ariel, especially, would have a tough time without him. He needed to think this through. Things would be chaotic for a few mornings. Maybe they wouldn't even show up at school, because Ashley was not one to rouse herself to wake up in time to take them. Juliet did not arrive for work until in the afternoons when she collected Ariel from pre-school, and then Alisha. She usually left late in the evenings after she prepared them for bed.

  He drove up the hill to Nadine's place and turned into the yard when he saw that the gate was wide open. The place looked even more immaculate in the soft morning light. He admired her white Christmas plants, which wound all the way to the top of the driveway in fat, fluffy white blooms, reminiscent of snow. He stepped out of the car and onto a cobblestone driveway, and a ginger cat wound itself around his legs and greeted him with high-pitched meows.

  He smiled down at the creature and resisted the urge to pet it; already his black pants had ginger cat hairs clinging to it where the cat was rubbing his head.

  Nobody stirred in the house, and he reached into his pocket for the phone and took out Nadine's business card to call her when the front door opened and Nadine stood there smiling.

  "Hi Brandon." She came down the steps hurriedly. "I was about to fix breakfast; want to join me?"

  Brandon's stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten for close to twenty-four hours.

  "Good morning, Nadine. Thank you so much for the use of your apartment. To be honest, I would really love to have breakfast. I am famished."

  "Good, come on in then." She held the door opened and the cat joined them.

  Nadine laughed, "Sorry, where're my manners? Brandon, meet Cat Langley."

  Brandon chuckled. "I already met Cat."

  "It figures. Cat loves men. I don't know why she adopted me a couple of years ago." Nadine chuckled. "She rules this place with an iron paw."

  "You live here alone?" he asked, looking around in the high-ceilinged hall and the spacious living room area. The decor was comfy and inviting. There were several black and white photos of famous musicians scattered throughout.

/>   Nadine threw him an inscrutable look. "Yes, I live here alone—except for Cat, of course. It was three-bedroom fixer-upper when I bought it."

  "I didn't mean to pry," Brandon stuttered. It had belatedly occurred to him that his question was probably intrusive.

  Nadine headed to the kitchen and opened a glass door leading onto a patio. She turned to him. Her eyes had a twinkle in them, as if she found his apology amusing.

  "It's a logical question to ask and since I don't believe that you are an axe murderer or anything, it's no problem to answer. I checked you out, by the way. You have a nice mug shot on the university’s website."

  "That's very wise of you to do, and thanks for the compliment," Brandon said, following behind her.

  Nadine grinned. "What do you want for breakfast? I have a whole selection of breakfast foods. My helper, Lily, stocks up on breakfast stuff, like cereal, eggs...fixings for porridge—and she knows I hardly eat breakfast stuff for breakfast. I am more of a green juice kind of girl."

  Brandon rolled up his sleeves. "I can make an omelet for us, and some toast and orange juice. That's simple enough."

  Nadine turned surprised eyes on him. "Sure. Why not? I never refuse an offer from somebody else to take over the kitchen."

  Especially an offer from a handsome man, she thought silently. She watched as he flashed her a grin. He was really good-looking in the light of day. He had the same facial profile as the actor Blair Underwood. His eyelashes were ridiculously long for a guy and when he smiled it was reflected in his eyes.

  She sat at the counter and watched him as he moved around her kitchen as if he belonged there. He was efficient in the kitchen, as if he had fixed breakfast a hundred times before.

  "Has anybody ever told you that you resemble Blair Underwood?" Nadine asked out loud.

  Brandon looked at her and grinned. "Yes, countless times. Has anybody ever told you that you resemble Nadine Langley?"

  "Ha," Nadine laughed. "I had a couple of interviews with magazines and a feature on entertainment television, a one-off hit song and suddenly I am famous."