He Left Me at Forty-Eight, Then Wanted Me Back novel · Chapter 1 of 16
Chapter 1: Candles
Glenn walks his mistress into Joanna's birthday dinner, her children admit they knew, and at midnight Madison posts the lovers toasting their freedom.
My husband walked his girlfriend into my forty-eighth birthday dinner before I'd lit a single candle.
My three children already knew who she was.
Not one of them had told me.
I was kneeling on a dining chair, pushing the last candle into the frosting, when the front door opened.
The glass in the china cabinet rattled.
I'd cooked all day.
Glenn's pot roast sat in the middle of the table.
Tyler's scalloped potatoes. Madison's green beans with almonds. Caleb's garlic rolls, too much butter, the way he liked them.
I'd made everyone's favorite.
Nobody had thought to ask what mine was.
Glenn came into the dining room in his good navy blazer.
A blonde woman had her arm through his.
She was maybe twenty-eight.
Red dress. High heels. Lip gloss that caught the chandelier.
She looked around my dining room.
Nobody said anything.
Tyler looked at his plate.
Madison looked at me, then at the window.
Caleb was standing by the hall with his backpack still on one shoulder.
That was how I knew.
Before Glenn opened his mouth.
My children weren't surprised.
I set the cake knife down.
"Glenn."
He didn't look guilty.
He looked annoyed.
"Jo, this is Brandi."
The woman smiled at me.
"Happy birthday, Joanna."
She said my name.
"Why is she in my house?"
Glenn tugged his cuff.
"Because I'm done pretending."
"Pretending what?"
"That this is working."
I looked at the roast.
I'd started it at seven that morning.
"You brought her to my birthday."
Brandi tilted her head.
"I told him tonight was a bad idea."
She had curled her hair for it.
I turned to my oldest.
"Tyler. Did you know?"
He swallowed and didn't answer.
Madison answered for him.
"We all knew, Mom."
A chair back was under my hand.
I held on to it.
"How long?"
Glenn sighed.
"Long enough."
"Mom," Tyler said.
"Did you lie to me?"
"I stayed out of it."
"You sat at this table every Sunday and passed me the salt."
His face went hard.
Madison folded her arms.
"Honestly, this is better than dragging it out."
"Better for who?"
She looked away.
Brandi stepped closer.
"Everyone deserves honesty. Even you."
"Don't you talk to me about honesty in my own dining room."
Her smile dropped.
Glenn moved in front of her.
Not in front of me.
In front of her.
"That's enough," he said. "I'm filing for divorce."
He said it clean.
I looked at my children.
Tyler's jaw was tight.
Madison's chin was up.
Caleb's face had gone gray.
I waited for one of them to say it.
Dad, not like this.
Mom, are you okay?
Nothing.
"This marriage has been dead for years," Glenn said.
"Then why did I cook for it?"
Brandi glanced at the table.
"You can't make something work just because it used to."
I picked up the cake.
Glenn saw it too late.
I let it go.
It hit the hardwood between us and burst.
White frosting sprayed across Brandi's red dress and her bare shins.
Madison gasped.
Caleb flinched against the wall.
"Get out," I said.
Glenn stared at me.
"You're being dramatic."
"You walked your girlfriend in here on my birthday, and I'm dramatic?"
Tyler stood up.
"Mom, calm down."
"Don't you tell me to calm down when all of you stood there and let this happen."
For a second he looked ashamed.
Only a second.
Glenn put his hand on the small of Brandi's back.
It went there easily.
I thought about twenty-five years of his shirts, ironed before dawn.
About the years I did his books at this table when Chastain Development was two trucks and a trailer.
About every client dinner I cooked, every wife whose name I remembered for him.
"We'll be at the Beau Rivage tonight," he said. "My lawyer will call you."
His lawyer.
Not I'm sorry.
At the doorway he looked back at the ruined cake.
Then he left with her.
Madison grabbed her purse.
"Everyone just needs to cool off."
"Did you ever once think about me?"
She couldn't look at me.
Tyler muttered on his way to the door.
"It didn't have to get ugly."
"It was ugly before I dropped the cake."
Caleb whispered, "Mom."
I couldn't comfort him.
Not when he'd known.
I went into the kitchen and put both hands on the edge of the sink.
Behind me, chairs scraped.
Doors opened and closed.
Nobody touched my shoulder.
Nobody asked if I was all right.
I cleaned the frosting off the floor myself, on my knees, until almost midnight.
The candles went in the trash, still unlit.
At 11:52 my phone buzzed on the counter.
Madison had posted a story.
Two champagne glasses clinking over a gold bar top at the Beau Rivage.
Glenn's watch. Brandi's red nails.
The caption said, "Finally free. Good for you, Dad."
Under it was one little heart.
Tyler had liked it.
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