Wife in Disguise

“It wasn’t me,” he protested, knowing even as he spoke that he was yelling into the wind. “She was the one who wouldn’t compromise. What about all the times I suggested we share responsibilities? From the cooking to the laundry, I was willing to do half. Sometimes more. But she wanted it all her way or not at all. What about all the times she wouldn’t admit she was in the wrong? It could never be both of us. In her mind I had to be the one to crawl or it didn’t count.”

Annie May dismissed him with a wave. “I’m not saying she was a saint. Josie’s many things, but perfect isn’t one of them. She’s as stubborn and difficult as you. But that’s my point. You’re just as pigheaded, only you never wanted to see that. It was always easier to talk about compromise and make all the fuss, knowing you got to be the martyr when she didn’t agree. Besides, why did you marry her?”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” He couldn’t keep up with the change in topic. Nothing made sense. He felt as if he’d stepped into a conversational house of mirrors where nothing was as it seemed and even the floor beneath his feet was constantly shifting.

“You married her because of her stubbornness and her pride. You were attracted to her strength of character, her unwillingness to bend. You liked that she gave 100 percent and was fearless. You preached equality in marriage, singing with the choir. Yet when you married her, you expected her to be just like your mother-catering to you, making sure your needs came first.”

“You’re crazy. It was never like that.”

“It was exactly like that.” Annie May poked a finger at his chest. “You talked the talk, but you sure weren’t walking the walk. You expected Josie to cook and clean up after you, and when she wouldn’t, you were left scrambling. You got mad and then you shut her out. You punished her for being exactly what she was and for everything she wasn’t. There was no way for Josie to win.”

He didn’t like hearing this. Annie May didn’t understand. “What about the compromises? She wouldn’t even start dinner before I got home, even though she got off work first. She said it made her a slave.”

Annie May poked him again. “Don’t you find it interesting that all the compromises were about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she ever ask you to cook for her? Did she ever ask you to clean her house or wash her clothes?”

He didn’t like the direction this was going. “Of course not.”

“Why?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“Just what I thought,” Annie May said triumphantly, dropping her hand back to her side. “It never occurred to you that everything was just as much your responsibility. If Josie refused to cook-which in your eyes made her a lousy wife-the compromise was either sharing the cooking or takeout. Interesting that you never offered to do it yourself. Because in your mind all the household chores were her responsibility first, and you were willing to show what a caring husband you were by agreeing to take over half the work. All the while making sure everyone knew you were doing your half, even when she should have done it all.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he told her, even though he was getting the uncomfortable feeling that she might be right.

“Wasn’t it? How come you didn’t take over the cooking? Josie loved being outside. I bet she would have been as happy as a clam digging around in the yard, taking care of the lawn. Did you offer that as one of your compromises? That she do that while you did the laundry?”

When he didn’t answer, she shook her head in disgust. “I figured you weren’t bright enough to think of that all on your own. What about Josie’s love of sports? Did you support that? Did you ever once take her up on her request that the two of you get involved in a team sport? Did you ever once play softball or tennis with her? Did you join her on a run? No. Because you wanted her home and domestic. And if she wasn’t doing what you wanted, you made sure the two of you knew that she was a lousy wife. It seems to me you were a pretty lousy husband.”

He didn’t need to hear this. “All I know is that she lied to me.”

“Why wouldn’t she? Would you have wanted to see her otherwise?”

He realized then that Annie May had set him up as the villain. There was no win for him. “I’m done here,” he said, turning and walking away.

“I’m not done with you, Delaney Michael Scott,” she yelled after him, bringing him to a halt. Damn his parents and their training. He could no more walk away from Annie May while she was screaming at him than he could steal from the local convenience store.

“Yes, Josie lied to you and that was wrong,” she continued. “But do you have any idea what she’s been through in the past year? Did you know that her walking wasn’t a sure thing? Did you know about all the surgeries, the pain she’s been through? Did you know she’s not finished with it yet?”

He knew. Or he was beginning to understand. “She told me,” he said quietly.

“I wonder if she told you all of it. About the loneliness and the fear. About how it all had to change her on the inside as well as the outside. She’s been through a trial by fire and she’s a better person for having survived. What do you have to show for the last year of your life? A series of relationships with big-breasted airheads?”

He glared down at her. “You’re getting real close to a line you shouldn’t cross.”

She stomped her foot. “I’m doing this because I love you both. Dammit, Del, can’t you see what’s different about her? Won’t you look at all the places you failed and maybe find it in your heart to change a little? Isn’t she worth it?”

No. He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Annie May that her brutal honesty wasn’t welcome in his life anymore. That he didn’t want to listen to her lectures, however well-meaning.

“I can’t do this right now,” he said instead, moving out of the kitchen and leaving the house.

He’d come looking for Annie May, expecting a confession and some sympathy. Instead he’d been slam-dunked by a master.

His fault? She actually thought he was the one who’d been in the wrong in his marriage to Josie? That she hadn’t resisted all his suggestions and acted like a child when she didn’t get her way? That she hadn’t been the one to walk out on nearly every fight they’d ever had? No. As far as Annie May was concerned, he was the bad guy. He could barely believe it.

He climbed into his truck, but instead of starting the engine, he stared unseeingly out the windshield. He wanted to dismiss Annie May’s words out-of-hand. He wanted to believe with all his being that she was taking Josie’s side because they were women and that’s what women did. He wanted to think this was just another form of male bashing. Only he couldn’t.

There was a small voice in his head murmuring that Annie May might, just might, have a point. That maybe he’d been the tiniest bit dictatorial when he and Josie had married. His old friend’s crack, about him never offering to cook had made him want to protest. That wasn’t his job. It was…

What? The woman’s job? Because she was a woman? Josie had worked just as many hours. When she was coaching, she often worked more. So why had he assumed it was her job to take care of him? Because his mom had always taken care of him and his dad? Because it was traditional? Because he was a jerk?

He didn’t like the last option so he ignored it. Instead he picked up the cell phone and called the hospital. From there he was connected to Dr. Sanders’s office, where he made a consultation appointment for the following morning. Annie May might be wrong about a lot of things, but she was right about one. He didn’t understand all that Josie had been through in the past year. He wanted the doctor to explain it to him in simple terms. He wanted to know the details of her surgeries and her treatment and he wanted to know what she could expect as she recovered.

And maybe he wanted to find out if what Annie May had said was true. That surviving the past year had been a trial by fire for Josie-strengthening her and changing her in ways he could never understand.

“So, you have a car,” Josie said, stating the obvious. Obviously Del had a car. She was sitting in it.

Still, he seemed to understand her statement. He slanted her a quick smile and nodded. “Sometimes the truck isn’t the best choice. Like now.”

Meaning that she could no more have climbed up into the front seat of the cab than she could have attempted a decathlon. She rubbed her fingers against the smooth, varnished wood of the BMW’s interior and told herself everything was going to be fine. Except she knew it wasn’t. She hated everything about this situation.

For the past two days she’d been stuck in a hospital. Now she was finally out only to find herself in the custody of her ex-husband. Dr. Sanders had been firm. She wasn’t to be on her own until she was out of the wheelchair,