Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(2)
“How quaint.” She patted my arm condescendingly. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy there.”
I took another sip of my drink as we were joined by three other women, whose gossip antennae had no doubt communicated to them the opportunity to get a good scoop.
“Sylvia, darling, you look wonderful.” Hilly Briggs air-kissed my cheek. She was wearing so much perfume—an attempt to mask the fact that she smoked to stay skinny—I nearly choked.
“The decorations are the best we’ve ever had,” said Liz Dunham, whose carefully applied concealer couldn’t quite mask the needle marks where her dermatologist had recently injected something to combat her wrinkles and plump her cheeks.
Looking thin and young was a competitive sport around here.
“Who are you sitting with, dear?” asked Jane Blythe Miller. I could tell she felt sorry for me from the tone of her voice and the tilt of her head—and also that she kind of enjoyed it. “Do you have a table?”
“I’m sort of just floating,” I said, attempting to smile. “I’m not very hungry anyway.”
They all nodded, their matching haircuts swinging. They were dressed alike too, each wearing some version of a twinset or turtleneck sweater and skirt of a “proper length,” per club rules. Pearl necklaces hung around every one of their necks. I’d noticed Kimmy was wearing a pearl necklace too, and I’d wondered if Brett had purchased it for her. It was the kind of thing he liked to do, buy people’s affection.
“You’re better off,” said Jane with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have eaten that giant slice of coffee cake. It probably had a thousand calories.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Sylvia doesn’t have to worry about her weight,” said Hilly with a touch of envy. “She’s already so nice and thin these days.”
I was actually too thin, and I knew it. But the stress of the last year or so had robbed me of my appetite and caused vomiting episodes when I did manage to finish a meal. Deep down, I’d known for a long time that my passionless marriage was disintegrating. I’d just been too scared to do anything about it.
“Good thing,” said Tippy, lifting her mimosa to her lips. “After all, she’s back on the market. She needs to look her best.”
“The market?” I blinked at her. “I’m not for sale, Tippy.”
“Relax,” Tippy said, patting my arm. “It was a compliment. You’re beautiful, Sylvia. It won’t take you any time at all to find a new husband.”
“Who says she even wants a new husband?” asked Jane. “Marriage can be such a pain. Sometimes I wish Richard would leave me just so I could get a moment’s peace! You must have tons of time for yourself now, Sylvia.”
I could have answered that I hadn’t been looking for any time to myself, I had zero peace whatsoever, and I actually missed my children terribly over the weekends they spent with Brett, but I didn’t.
“Another mimosa, please.”
My former friends exchanged glances as I downed it in a few gulps. I didn’t usually drink this heavily, but it was either swallow it or throw it in their faces, and I didn’t want to make a scene—not yet, anyway.
Then Hilly glanced toward Brett’s table. “This must be so difficult for you, Syl.”
The others murmured in agreement.
“I just don’t know how you’re keeping your cool,” Liz said, the look on her face telling me she kind of wished I might lose it. “I heard about the baby.”
“Baby?” My stomach tightened. “What baby?”
“You don’t know? Well, apparently, Kimmy is pregnant,” Jane said, gleefully breaking the news. “She told everyone at the Ladies Auxiliary Lunch yesterday that she’s four months along.”
“Four months?” I did some quick math—not easy after the amount of alcohol I’d consumed—and realized he had to have knocked her up over the summer, long before he told me he was leaving. “Oh my God.”
“It did cause quite a stir,” Hilly said, “but I’m sure no one there believed those other things she said.”
I stared at her. “What other things?”
“Oh, you know, the usual insults the Other Woman lobs at the First Wife. That Brett was miserable with you for years because you’re such an ice queen. That he told her you were boring in bed. That you didn’t excite him anymore. That he couldn’t even get it up for you.”
I felt like I was melting into a hot, horrifying puddle of humiliation. I couldn’t breathe.
“God, it’s just so crass,” Tippy said before sipping her drink. “I mean, who says those things out loud at lunch?”
As if she hadn’t hung on every single word out of Kimmy’s mouth—as if all of them hadn’t!
“Crass and ridiculous,” Liz huffed. “I mean, she’s practically half his age! But her skin is just perfect. And I bet her boobs don’t sag at all.”
“Well, I haven’t seen her boobs,” I told her, suddenly tired of taking the high road and staying quiet when I wanted to scream. “But maybe if we ask her, she’ll flash us. Clearly she has no problem getting naked in front of other people’s husbands.”
Liz appeared offended. “I only meant that it must be hard for you to see him with someone like her.”