Mary let her breath out on a sigh. She and Carol had been good friends for a long, long time. The thought that she could have betrayed her like that would have been crushing. Which was ironic, she supposed. She should have been more distressed at Joe’s betrayal had they had an affair. Instead, it was Carol’s betrayal that would have hurt more. She supposed it was because she’d long ago given up any hope of being able to trust her husband in that regard. At least back then.
“Dave is how I know your husband continued his infidelities,” Dante continued, “He and your husband were made from the same mold. The pair often trolled the bars together, knew each other’s girlfriends, and covered for each other with “the wifey” as he put it in his thoughts.”
Mary sighed at this news and continued walking. She wasn’t terribly surprised by the information, but also wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it. Should she be furious and confront Dave? Why? What did it matter? Joe was dead.
“He continues to philander here in Texas,” Dante said grimly. “And Carol is aware of it. That is part of the reason she wants to move back to Winnipeg. Dave uses the campground as his own personal hunting grounds. He has affairs with many of the women who camp here, married or not. He also has had the occasional fling with workers.”
Mary’s mouth tightened and her heart went out to Carol, but again, she didn’t know what to do about it. If, as he said, Carol knew . . . well, she wouldn’t want to add to her humiliation and bring up the subject with her. They’d only discussed the subject of Joe’s infidelities once, years ago, after the car accident that had led to her not being able to have children. Mary had almost left Joe then, but . . .
“Carol believes you stayed with Joe because you could not have children,” Dante said quietly. “She believes you felt no other man would want a woman who couldn’t give him children.”
“Children are important to most men,” she said quietly. “But that wasn’t the only reason. He made a mistake, but no one is perfect.”
He was silent for a minute and then said uncertainly, “Are the pictures in the RV of your husband’s children with other women?”
Mary’s mouth tightened. She hated being reminded of the children he’d had with other women. She knew they existed, but not how many. “No. They’re our adopted children. We adopted a boy and a girl. Both grown now with children of their own.”
“I see. But Joe had children of his own without you?” he asked, not letting the subject go.
Mary opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t want to talk about that subject, but then sighed and said, “He traveled a lot for work when we were younger. It was at a time when we were having marital problems. Sometimes he was away for months in foreign countries negotiating this deal or that one. He was lonely and took up with other women.”
“I would never be unfaithful to you Mary,” he said solemnly. “No matter how long we were apart.”
The words surprised a short laugh from her and she shook her head. “Dante, you’re far too young for me. Save proclamations like that for someone your own age.”
“I am older than I look,” he said solemnly.
Relieved to see that they’d reached the end of the lane and were approaching the RV, Mary smiled at him and said dryly, “So you’ve said. But, sweetheart, if you’re over twenty-five or twenty-six I’ll eat my hat.”
“I am well over twenty-five but would never make you eat anything you did not want to, especially a hat.”
Mary raised her eyebrows, then just shook her head and led Bailey to the picnic table to collect her double dish. She carried it to the RV and quickly unlocked and opened the door. Bailey immediately tried to rush up the stairs, but Mary stopped her with a sharp, “Stay.”
Bailey sat then and waited for Mary to mount the stairs before following her into the RV. Mary wasn’t very good at consistency, but according to the dog training books she’d resorted to lately, she should have made the dog wait for Dante to enter as well, but the leash made that difficult. Pausing next to the table, Mary set the dish on it, then bent to undo Bailey’s leash as Dante followed them in.
“I am serious, Mary. I am much older than I look,” he insisted, pulling the RV door closed behind them.
Something about the tone of his voice made Mary glance warily his way as she finished removing Bailey’s leash and straightened. He had sounded determined. He looked determined too. She wasn’t sure what that determination was about, but it made her nervous, so she simply slipped past him to hang the leash from the hook next to the door and waited for him to continue.
“Come, sit,” Dante suggested when she turned back.
Mary watched him take a seat at the dinette booth, but grabbed Bailey’s dish, rinsed it out at the sink and filled both sides with water. She set it on the floor by the table for the dog, then settled at the dinette across from Dante, sliding further in and petting Bailey when the shepherd jumped up to lie on the bench seat next to her. “Okay, I’m sitting.”