“Luck of the draw—really lucky for me.”
“For both of you. Your art, your work, didn’t hurt. Now she’s an illustrator, you’re a graphic designer. I’m proud of both of you.”
“I need to go into work Monday. So will he. I should never have gotten involved with someone at work.”
“Stop.” Winter turned her around. “Don’t let what he did, what he is shake who you are or what you do. You loved him enough to plan a life with him. You thought he loved you enough to do the same.”
“I was wrong.”
“You were wrong,” Winter agreed. “The mistake wasn’t in loving someone. He wasn’t faithful, and you ended it. You know what I haven’t heard from you? What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I enough? What did he see in her he didn’t in me?”
“I—Mom—”
“You know why I haven’t heard that? Because you’re too smart to fall in that ditch. You know this isn’t about you. It’s about him. His character. You believed in him. He proved you wrong. That’s all there is to it. So clean sweep, close the book, lock the door. Change the locks,” she amended, “then lock the door.”
“I’ll call a locksmith tomorrow. He’ll corner me—or try to—at work on Monday.”
“And you’ll deal with it.”
“I’ll deal with it.” She shut her eyes. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Of course you are. Anyone would be, even when it’s not their embarrassment. So, Sonya Grace MacTavish, make it his embarrassment.”
She kissed Sonya’s forehead. “That—especially to someone like Brandon? It’s more painful than chronic jock itch.”
* * *
They ate pizza, and while Sonya and Cleo drank more wine, Winter switched off to iced tea. Together, they made a plan. Then they carted boxes, suitcases, and Hefty bags out to the car.
On the second trip, her neighbor stepped out of her side of the duplex.
“Do you all need some help with that? Bill’s home. He’d give you a hand.”
Winter sent her a winning smile. “Thanks, Donna. If he wouldn’t mind. We’ve got a couple more loads.”
“No problem. Bill! Come give Sonya a hand.” She put a hand on her hip, a woman with three grown children who’d downsized with her husband and had moved into the duplex just over a year before.
A nice couple, Sonya thought, neighborly but not pushy. Important qualities, in her view, when you shared a common wall.
Bill came out in a Red Sox T-shirt and cargo shorts that showed off his knobby knees.
“Moving out on us?” He grinned when he said it, making it a joke.
Sonya figured she’d had just enough wine.
“I’m booting Brandon out, or I already did after I found him naked in bed with my cousin Tracie.”
Inside his scruffy goatee, Bill’s mouth dropped open. On the other hand, his wife Donna’s mouth thinned.
“Is that the blonde with the big boobs?”
“Why, yes, it is. You might have seen her run out of the house a few hours ago barefoot and holding her underwear.”
“No, and I’m sorry I missed it. I’m sorry it happened. But I’m going to tell you I’ve seen her come around twice before when you weren’t home. I thought they were working on some surprise for you, for the wedding maybe. But … I won’t lie. I wondered.”
“Twice before today?”
“That I saw. Last Saturday when I was washing windows, and it must’ve been about three weeks ago. I’d taken some cookies to Marlene’s across the street. Her little boy’s fond of my snickerdoodles. I was just leaving to come home. So, yeah, that’s Saturday again, three weeks back.”
“We went to the salon,” Cleo said, “for you to try out styles for the wedding, and shoe shopping for wedding shoes.”
“I remember,” Sonya murmured.
“I’m sorry it happened,” Donna said again. “But I’m glad you found out sooner than later. Bill, go on and get the rest of that douchebag’s stuff out of Sonya’s house.
“Anything else we can help you with,” she added, “you just ask.”
“At least three times,” Sonya said when they’d loaded the last of it. “Now I have to get rid of the bed. Maybe the couch. They might’ve used the couch. Or God knows where else.”
“No, you don’t. I’m going to white sage the whole place.”
She looked at Cleo. “Seriously?”
“Deadly. I might have some in my purse. Otherwise, I’ll run home and get some. We are clearing him out, and her. And anyone else he might’ve banged in there. Sorry, Son, but maybe.”
“Yeah.” Though it made her a little sick, she nodded. “Maybe.”
Now she needed to get tested, she realized, and that added to the humiliation. She’d need to get tested, just in case.
“Now I wish we’d sliced up those leather jackets. And I’m going to have another conversation with Summer. But first, I’m dumping all of his things at Jerry’s, whether he’s there or not.”
Winter grabbed Sonya in another hug, a fierce one. “We’re going to consider this a narrow and welcome escape.”
“If he’s there,” Cleo said, “can you kick him in the balls?”
“I might just. I’ll be here tomorrow. We’ll start making those calls.”
“Thanks.”
When Winter drove away, Cleo put an arm around Sonya’s shoulders.
“More wine?”
“Oh yeah. Can we bury Tracie’s slut shoes with Brandon’s boxers? Give her chronic yeast infections?”
“Now you’re talking.”
* * *
On Monday morning, Sonya dressed carefully. The red suit helped her feel powerful, in control. She spent time working her hair into a sleek twist, and that made her feel cool and detached.
She’d felt the opposite on Sunday when Brandon texted her—four times, before she’d listened to Cleo and her mother and blocked his number.
We have to talk. We can’t throw everything away because I made a terrible mistake. You know I love you. We have to talk. You have to let me explain.
Every text had coiled up her anger. And the anger made her feel weak and stupid.
Today, she had to face him. She needed to feel powerful and cool and detached.
When she’d chosen jewelry—bold—and perfected her makeup, she went out to where Cleo sat, half dozing over coffee.
“Well?”
Sonya turned a circle.
“And that’s a wow. Killer look, Son. A ‘here’s what you’ll never tap again, asshole’ look.”
“That’s what I aimed for.”
“Direct hit. Listen, I’m going to take the spare key and your wedding binder. I’ll start canceling what we couldn’t reach on a Sunday.”
“Cleo, you’ve already given me Saturday and all day yesterday.”
“And I go nowhere until the locksmith comes today to change those locks, then I’m taking the binder and the key home with me. I’m in a good place on my project to take a few hours. So I’ll finish the rest of the calls. I’m guessing since there were alterations, you can’t just return the wedding dress.”
“No-return policy. Mom paid for that ridiculously expensive dress, Cleo.”