“I’m going batshit crazy,” Laura confessed. “They’re just always there. Brian and I are never alone.” She paused. “We haven’t had sex in, like, two months.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “Really?” Well that certainly put her dry spell with Gavin in perspective. She and Gavin had a somewhat disappointing quickie the other week after one of their date nights. It wasn’t the crazy, passionate lovemaking of the early days of their marriage, but at least it was something.
Laura bit her lip and frowned. “I swear it’s like Janet knows when we’re about to do it or something. She always comes knocking, hollering about breakfast or coffee or some dumb report on the news.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Claire said. “It’s just for another few months, right?”
“Yeah.” Laura paused at a booth selling glass paperweights and grabbed one with a crawfish design in the middle. Claire noticed for the first time how tired Laura looked. Her long blond hair—normally shiny and curled—hung lank around her face, as if she’d been too exhausted to do anything with it. “Would it be weird if I bought this for Ricky Broussard?”
Claire made a gagging sound. “Why the heck would you buy something for Ricky?”
“I decided I’m gonna ask for a promotion to manager at the restaurant,” Laura said, putting it back down on the table. “I’m over being a waitress.”
Claire put her hand on Laura’s shoulder. “You don’t need a suck-up gift. You’re worthy of a promotion even without a twenty-dollar piece of glass.”
Laura stood in silence for a moment, looking as if she was trying to convince herself of her worthiness. “Maybe,” she said, like she didn’t quite believe it.
Claire squeezed her arm encouragingly. “You got this. Besides,” she said playfully, grabbing the paperweight, “I’m going to get this for Gavin’s office, and there’s only one.”
? ? ?
AS THE GIRLS finished up the last piece of the funnel cake, Claire checked her watch. “Y’all, I hate to do this ’cuz I’m having so much fun, but I gotta go.” She wiped her hands with the paper napkin and stood up. “My mom’s at home with Sadie right now, and I’ve got to relieve her.”
She gave all the girls a hug and kiss on the cheek. When she got to Madison, she held her a little tighter. “Love you,” Claire whispered in her ear. Madison gave her a squeeze back.
As she walked back to her car, she thought about Madison’s odd new relationship, Gabby’s awkwardness about her engagement, Laura’s difficulties with Brian, and even the issues she struggled with in her own marriage. She pulled out her phone and opened Gavin’s Twitter account. “The only one who should judge is God,” she typed. “You never truly know what’s going on, so use your energy to lift others up, not tear them down.”
During the drive home, Claire turned on the radio, tapping her fingers to cheesy love songs as she drove down Main Street. A few teenagers were hanging out by the gas station, smoking and skateboarding around the parking lot. She rolled her eyes at them but then noticed a familiar truck pulling out of the station ahead of her. The bumper sticker read: RON PAUL.
Well I’ll be darned, she thought. Gavin must have gotten done with the guys early. A smile grew on her face as she thought about pulling up behind him in the driveway. “You were there this whole time?” he’d say, greeting her with a kiss.
She wondered if he realized she was right behind him. It was probably too dark for him to tell. They drove through two stoplights and Claire thought about giving him a call. Maybe they could pull off somewhere. . . . Claire felt a rush of desire and reached for her phone, but then Gavin’s truck turned onto the highway on-ramp. She leaned back, confused. That wasn’t the way to get home. . . .
Her mind raced. Keep following him or go home? She turned her blinker on and the next thing she knew, she was headed south on I-49. She was immediately filled with regret. A wife was supposed to trust her husband, and she always trusted Gavin. Following him down the highway was not a way to show her faith in him. She almost turned around—once, twice—but Gavin kept driving, and with each passing mile, a little voice in the back of her head whispered, This is the way to The Saddle.
Finally, they neared the infamous strip club, the neon lights clear even from a distance. Through the darkness, a flashing sign showed a sexy woman riding a bull. Keep driving, she willed the truck in front of her. Go past this. You wouldn’t do this to us.
She groaned as Gavin’s truck pulled into the gravel parking lot and cozied up between two beat-up cars. Several potbellied, grizzled men stood against one wall, chain-smoking. All of the building’s windows were blacked out. Claire pulled over to the highway’s shoulder, feeling dizzy as she watched her husband get out and walk into the dilapidated building. What the hell is he doing in a place like this? She hadn’t felt this angry with a man since her dad walked out on her and her mom.
Tears started to flow down her face, and soon she was sobbing, her head pressed against the steering wheel. Gavin was supposed to be a good guy. What had she missed? She grew angry with herself, too, for being as naive as Madison thought. She resisted the urge to get out of her car, storm into that horrible place, and confront her husband. Instead she rolled down her window and threw the glass paperweight on the sidewalk, shattering it into a million pieces.
13
madison
“SO, WHAT’S THIS guy’s deal?” Cash asked, lighting his cigarette.
He and Madison were sitting on the rotting wood bench outside his parents’ cabin, which was set back in the woods about thirty minutes outside Toulouse. They were having a smoke, and she had just casually mentioned hanging out with George at the Paradis Coffee House, a newly opened café that catered to Toulouse’s artsy and sophisticated crowd.
“I met him through my dad. He’s the CEO of my dad’s old company.” Madison took a sip of her beer, trying not to smile.
He raised his eyebrow. “A suit, huh? So, are y’all, like, dating?”
“Not exactly.” Madison ran a hand down his arm, the muscles hard beneath his shirt.
Cash paused for a moment, a rare look of consternation on his face. “So . . . that means we can still do it, right?”
Madison rolled her eyes. “You sure do know how to make a girl swoon.” She stared at him for a second. “So, you’re cool with this?” This was clearly bothering him, which made her want to grin in victory.
He took a swig of his beer, squinting in the sun, finally saying, “Why wouldn’t I be? You can do what you want.”
The words took her by surprise. A piece of her had hoped that he’d be so overcome with jealousy that he’d scoop her up and declare his love for her right there. “I guess I just don’t understand what we are . . . what this is,” she blurted, immediately regretting it. She sounded like those girls she made fun of—the clingy ones like Claire and Laura, desperate to define the relationship.