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CHAPTER 16
The tension in my kitchen is so heavy I can feel the glares behind my back as I brown the meat for my Not-Yo-Macho-Nacho-Night. Mia has been asleep for almost an hour now. She knew we were having guests once she went to bed, and it broke my heart to tell her it was a grown-up night when I know how much she loves nachos. But the promise of leftovers helped.
I don’t get it, how my two girls are not getting along.
Jess is working on the margaritas, which in truth is a little nerve wracking because she has the gut of an ox and can really handle her liquor. And as me and tequila don’t mix, I’m a little scared of the outcome.
“Does Nate know you’re here?” I ask Jane, thinking about his bond with Bo and what he must be thinking about me now that he knows the whole story.
“Yup. Downright pissed him off. Said I was coming out to cavort with the enemy,” Jane says as she chops the tomatoes for the salsa. “Hey, you think that meat’s still good. I’m getting a funky smell over here. Maybe too much seasoning?” She wrinkles her nose, then moves her station to the table.
Jess grumbles, “Maybe it’s your upper lip,” almost inaudibly and throws in a little more tequila into the blender. I know Jane’s complaint greatly offends Jess because she’s the one who prepared the meat.
“It seems ok,” I say ignoring Jess. I lean in to smell the pan, taking in the scent of cumin, peppers, garlic and onion. “Well, maybe too much garlic?”
Jess’ mouth drops open in indignation and she points a spoon at me. “That’s an amazing recipe. You just don’t know about Mexican food.”
“Well you got me there, Barbie.” It’s kind of true, I don’t cook any kind of food as well as she does.
Jess eyes Jane from the bar as she takes in a sip of her fresh brew. “She’s weird,” she whispers to me and I nudge her side.
Dear lord these women. Maybe if it wasn’t because they feel obligated to certain loyalties, they would have gotten on better. But as it is, they are on opposites sides.
On the one hand, I have Jess. Team Owen. She obviously feels guilty over her role in my affair. And truth be told, she likes Owen. Every time we get together those two end up talking about things I’ve never heard of. They have similar interests, same taste in music, books, etc. Could also be that she sympathizes with him. She had an affair herself, she knows everyone is capable of doing it.
“You need to work this out with Owen,” she says when the conversation inevitably turns to them.
“Jess,” I say, “I wish it were so simple, and you know I’m trying. If only I’d never met Bo. If only I’d never slept with him. I gave him my heart, stupid woman that I am. Now I feel like I’m being torn to shreds with the thought of saying goodbye, never to give us a chance. That ‘what if’ question is killing me!”
Then, on the other end I have Jane. Team Bo. He’s her cousin, if not by blood, by law and in her heart. They get along great, she’s seen him go through a lot and wants him to be happy. She doesn’t know Owen from Adam, all she knows is that he cheated on me. She has never talked with him, never had the chance to love him as I have.
“Owen had his chance. If he’d kept his dick in his pants this never would have happened. It’s his own fault.”
“Jane,” I tell her. “He’s more than that ONE thing he did. You haven’t loved him intensely like I have for sixteen years, so I know it’s hard for you to see that. But this affair, this is a small part of our lives, and beyond that, he’s been an amazing husband and father. That’s why I hated him, because I never expected he’d do this.
“You don’t know how much this hurt him, too. He was so distraught over what he’d done, he was willing to humiliate himself and let me…” My voice cracks and I can’t even finish the sentence, just thinking of it. I wipe away at the burning in my eyes and sniffle.
Neither one of them cares about what I have just said, both set in their opinion. I can see them rolling their eyes at each other through my peripheral vision. This is awful. They both argue their points, even though I’m not really listening to either.
“Bo is the right one for her because…”
“No, Owen is who she should choose because…”
Back and forth they go, each one trying their best to influence me. It sort of reminds me of those cartoons where there is a devil on someone’s left shoulder, and an angel on the right, only in my case I’m beginning to wonder if they are both just wrong.
“Look guys, I appreciate that you love your teams,” I start.
“Huh?” Jane says.
“You know, Team Bo. Team Owen.”
“Ooookay,” says Jess.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter because there is no choice to be made. I am married to Owen. And even though things have gone a little south with him lately, he is my priority because he’s my husband.”
“But you love Bo, too,” Jane throws in. “Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
