True Confections. Chapter 1.
“Jane Delight, have you heard a word I said?”
I stared at my husband blankly. He always said my full name when I irritated him. I couldn’t quite take in his words. Maybe I was dreaming? It all seemed so surreal.
It was my fiftieth birthday and my husband had taken me out for dinner. He said he had news and I had thought he was going to invite me to renew our vows.
I looked around the restaurant. It was a trendy, expensive French restaurant, and my husband had not taken me to a fancy restaurant in years. In fact, we hadn’t eaten dinner together in ages. He was always home late or away on extensive business trips.
“I can see you’re upset, Jane,” he continued.
I finally found my voice. “Upset? Upset?” I repeated. I heard my voice come out as a squeak.
“Now don’t make a public scene, Jane,” Ted said after tut-tutting. “I told you this in public so you wouldn’t make a scene.”
I had never made a scene. In fact, I was painfully aware I was a meek people-pleaser, and I continually vowed to overturn that tendency somehow.
“Is this some sort of a joke?” I asked hopefully.
His eyebrows knit in the middle. “How could you think I would joke about such a thing?” he said in a scolding tone. “No, we are getting a divorce.”
I clutched my chest. “Don’t I have any say in it?”
“It won’t help to be clingy, Jane. We’re getting a divorce, and that’s final.” He hesitated and then added, “I’m going to marry my mistress.”
The waiter who had just arrived at our table turned red and hurried away. I was speechless, and that seemed to embolden Ted, as he pushed on. “I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Cherri.”
“Cherry?” I repeated. “Did you say her name was Cherry?”
“Cherri with an i,” he said, as if that explained everything. “She’s having a baby. We’re having a baby.”
I dug my fingernails into the tablecloth. I had never had a baby. Ted had told me after we married that he didn’t want children. I stared at him and realized my jaw was hanging open.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, doing my best not to cry.
“That’s the whole point of having a mistress,” he said with a shake of his head. “Husbands don’t usually admit it to their wives, but now I have to tell you because, well you know, because of the baby. Cherri is five months along.”
“Five months?” I shrieked. “Your affair has been going for five months?”
Ted shook his head. “No, it’s been going on longer than that. Now I know you signed a pre-nup when you married me, with me being a highly successful lawyer and all, but I wanted to give you some money because I feel bad.”
I tried to say something cutting, but couldn’t find my voice.
Ted pushed on. “Yes, I’d like to give you some money, but I won’t be able to. I’m sure you can understand that, what with the baby coming. I have to support Cherri and the baby, so I won’t be able to give you any money after all. And I need the house.”
“The house?” I repeated. “Our house?”
“It’s a big house and there’s only one of you, so you don’t need a big house. I’m sure Cherri and I will have several children since she’s only in her early twenties. You could go back to being Amish,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “After all, you were brought up Amish. You can go back to being Amish, and you won’t need any money. Don’t they live off the land or something? No electricity and all that. Think of the money you’ll save.”
“I can’t go back to being Amish,” I snapped. “I left the Amish when I was sixteen.” The room spun and I feared I might faint.
He shrugged one shoulder and checked his phone. He shot off a quick text and put the phone back in his pocket. “What about your twin sister, Rebecca?”
“What about her?” I said through clenched teeth.
“She’s still Amish.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You can go and live with her. It’s in another state, so we won’t run into each other. I’m sure you don’t want to happen across Cherri. It would be embarrassing for you.”
I stared at Ted in disbelief. We had been married for almost thirty years and yet he was ending our marriage so easily. My head was spinning.
“But I have no skills, no qualifications. How will I find work?”
“You do have a degree in PR. You used to have a top job working for that fashion designer in New York. That’s what you were doing when we met. You’ll be all right. You’ll soon make money again.”
“Ted, that was almost thirty years ago,” I protested, “and I was only an intern. I haven’t worked in decades. No one is going to employ me now.”
“You can live with your sister’s family and babysit some kids or something,” he said. “Go back to the Amish—you’ll fit right in.”
I sat there, frozen to the spot in disbelief. How could he do this to me? Sure, the spark had gone out of our marriage years ago, but I thought that was just the way it went with marriages. I had done everything I could to make the home a happy one, and I had thought Ted was content. Come to think of it, he had been far more content in the last few months, and now I knew why.
Something occurred to me. “Why are you doing this on my birthday? It’s my birthday.”
“You already said that once,” he said. “Sure, I know it’s not the ideal time to tell you, but then again I’m sure there is never a good time to tell you my mistress and I are having a baby and that you and I are getting a divorce. I suppose this is as good a time as any.”
I looked at his face and wondered if I could upturn a plate of food over his head. Still, I had been brought up Amish, and that wasn’t the thing to do. I couldn’t even call Rebecca and cry on her shoulder. As she was Amish, she didn’t have a phone in her house and of course didn’t own a cell phone. She owned a cupcake store, and there was a phone there for the business, but I had to wait until working hours to tell her what had happened.
“This will be good for you,” Ted said.
“Exactly how will it be good for me?” I snapped.
“Don’t raise your voice, Jane. It will be good for you because you can get on with your new life.”
My emotions had run the full gamut, from disbelief to remorse, to anger, to shock, and now I was angry once more.
I clutched the butter knife with both hands and shut my eyes tightly, thinking of all the horrible things I could do to Ted, and then sent up a silent prayer for forgiveness. When I opened my eyes, Ted was gone.
