Page 37 of The Husband Diet
‘Great game, lad,’ Mr. Foxham said, slapping Warren on the back.
I watched the exchange from afar, so proud of my boy I thought I’d burst into tears right there and then. The principal wasn’t such a bad guy, after all. And he liked his students. He knew everything about them – and the parents. It occurred to me I knew absolutely zilch about him.
‘If you don’t mind my asking…’ I said to Julian later as we were all saying our goodbyes and slowly making for our cars.
‘Anything,’ he said with a good-natured grin.
‘You mentioned you were adopted. Have you ever thought about contacting your real parents?’ Now where the hell had that extremely personal question come from?
‘No.’
‘Don’t you want to?’
He thought about it. ‘I don’t want to break my mother’s heart.’
‘You could always do it secretly. Who’d know?’
Julian shook his head. ‘If my real mother wanted to find me, she’d be able to trace me. Besides, I’m a bit of a mess with lies, I’m afraid. I tend to forget what I’ve said so just don’t bother.’
‘The ideal husband, then,’ I said on instinct, and he flinched. ‘Sorry.’
‘No worries. I told you Warren’s a trooper,’ Julian exclaimed, changing the subject masterfully.
‘Sorry about the punch, by the way,’ I said.
He grinned and I grinned back, and together we charged for my son, along with his teammates, who threw themselves all over him again. Warren caught my eye and winked, like I’d taught him when he was little. My little guy. It was all I could do from bursting into tears all over again.
‘You’re a fine mother,’ Julian beamed at me, and I said, ‘You know what, Headmaster Foxham? At times like this, I think so, too!’
‘And, Erica? Do call me Julian. We are, after all, acquainted outside the school.’
What he wasreallythinking was, after all, I’ve seen you in your underwear – and they weren’t the prettiest I’ve ever seen, either.
I shrugged. If he could call seeing my worst underwear being acquainted, I wished I had a chance to get to know him very well.
14
The Superman Syndrome
In the month leading up to Christmas, I was so miserable I barely ate, losing, as a result, two dress sizes. I’d gone from a size twenty to almost a sixteen without even noticing. Nowthatwas a diet I wouldn’t recommend any woman –The Husband Diet. It was so sad, I burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. Would it ever stop hurting? Would I ever be able to forgive myself for losing my husband, my children’s (albeit absent) father?
But on the other end of my roller-coaster feelings, being lighter made me feel lighterinside, like those infomercials where you see a woman stepping out of a rubber flab costume to reveal her splendid new self. I was still far off from splendid, but even I could see how much better I looked. It was a great feeling.
Losing my weight as a teenager had implications nowhere near the ones I was experiencing now. Now, I was a woman with so much more at stake. It wasn’t about chasing my crush down the street anymore. This was about the direction my life would be heading. I was now the one in the driver’s seat. And although I hadn’t had much control over my life in years, I was beginning to recognize the familiar flavor of freedom. Only back then, I’d called a lack of a man loneliness. What a difference an unloving, cheating husband made.
When I got home from work, I found a simple but pretty bouquet of wildflowers wedged into the door knocker with a note:I think you’re great. One day I hope to be able to tell you in person.I stared at it blankly. Paul. Or a joke? It had to be. You, a smart chick, might have figured out already who it was, but believe me, it took me months to put two and two together, and even then, it still made no sense to me.
On parents’ night, I masterfully avoided speaking to Julian, although I saw him excusing himself from a couple when he spotted me. I really didn’t need anymore encouragement or sympathy, so I whirled around and pulled out my cellphone to dial Ira, who was supposed to be here.
‘Can’t you handle it?’ he said tiredly.
I closed my eyes and swallowed. ‘Of course.’ And then I hung up.
We’d only communicated for the benefit of Maddy and Warren. Now, there was nothing else to say.
When I managed to get home without meeting the object of my erotic dreams face-to-face, I sent the babysitter home and looked in on the kids, who were sound asleep.
Contrary to what Ira had always thought, my bed was the best place on Earth and I fell into it without even getting undressed. If I’d figured it out right, the minute I closed my eyes my projection of Julian would come into my room as usual, slip under the covers and hold me, caress my hair and whisper sweet words of encouragement. That would gradually become more heated until I clung to him and he’d initiate crazy-amazing sex, and soon we’d be swinging from the chandeliers and bouncing off the walls. And that was when I’d knock my head against the headboard and wake up alone, drenched in tears.
