Page 15 of The Thinnest Air
The view from the gallery is a straight shot to the foyer, and I watch as Erica ruffles Calder’s dark hair before cupping his face.
“You look skinnier and skinnier every time I see you,” she says, tongue clucking. “Is Meredith feeding you?”
He jerks his face from her hand, his eyes glued to his phone. “Yeah, Mom.”
Isabeau wraps her arms around her mother’s whittled waist. If anyone’s getting skinnier and skinnier, it’s Erica.
Ever since the divorce, she’s been sticking to a strict diet of protein shakes and vodka tonics. Or so Andrew says. He finds it amusing, says she’s trying to compete with me. Her jealousy makes him laugh, and I’d feel badly about it if I didn’t know how awful she was to him for sixteen years—cheating, overspending, never-ending nagging and bickering.
Erica is the embodiment of a typical Glacier Park housewife: entitled, petty, and allergic to kindness.
“When was the last time you combed your hair, darling?” she says to her daughter. “All these tangles. Ugh.”
Isabeau tucks a disheveled, cocoa-hued strand behind one ear. “Meredith won’t do my hair, Mom. I’ve asked her, and she always says she’s too busy.”
My jaw unglues, and I have half a mind to storm down the stairs and call her out on her bold-faced lie, but I won’t. I know what she’s doing. She wants attention and sympathy from her mother, and if lying about me is the only way to get it, then I’ll let it go, and I’ll be the bigger person—for now.
The truth always has a way of coming out sooner or later.
Besides, there are far more damaging lies Isabeau could tell.
“Meredith, is that you up there?” Erica calls out. “Are you going to come down and say hello, or are you going to stand there in the shadows, listening to our conversation?”
Bitch.
“Didn’t want to intrude,” I say. “Was just giving you some space.”
“So sweet of you,” she says, her voice as fake as the D-cup implants protruding from her chest wall and the luxurious shade of glossed auburn covering her graying mane.
My hand slides down the polished wooden banister as I make my graceful entrance wearing a humble smile, but when I get to the bottom, my phone chimes with a text alert. My mood fades when I read that Andrew won’t be home for dinner tonight.
“Trouble in paradise?” Erica doesn’t try to fight the pleased smirk claiming her overfilled lips.
“Not at all.” I keep my head high, meeting her inquisitive gaze head-on. Shame on her for trying to make me doubt my marriage.
“Let me guess, he canceled on you?” she asks. “Has to work late for the millionth time?”
“I’m not discussing any of this with you.”
“Fair enough.” Erica’s stare is locked on mine as she slips two black leather gloves over her dainty fingers. “Kids. Car. Now.”
Calder and Isabeau file out the front door, their designer bags in tow, and Erica comes toward me with folded arms, her heels clicking with each step.
“You remind me so much of myself sixteen years ago,” she says. “That brightness in your eyes. The glow on your face. Enjoy it while you can, Meredith. You’ll only be the apple of his eye for so long.”
“What the hell are you doing?” My nose wrinkles.
“Watching out for you,” she says, thin brows arched. “Woman to woman. You know, that kind of thing.”
“Bitter and jealous isn’t doing you any favors.”
Erica laughs. “Sweetheart, you’re the last person I’d be jealous of. You think I’m crying myself to sleep every night over losing him? Quite frankly, the only thing I despise about this entire situation is that it’s humiliating. My husband of sixteen years dumps me and picks up a wife half his age ... talk about cliché. You’re the equivalent of a middle-aged man’s shiny new Porsche. You’re nothing but a sex toy. And one of these days, when the newness and excitement wear off, he’ll trade you in for something else. That’s what Andrew does. Nothing is ever good enough. He’s always striving for the next hotter, better, more exhilarating thing.”
“How poignant, Erica. Thank you.” I stride toward the door, pulling it open for her before I allow her to burrow beneath my skin another inch.
She scoffs, lingering in my space for a moment too long before finally strutting outside, only the second she reaches the crisp Glacier Park air, she turns back to face me.
“One of these days, you’ll see I was right. And you probably won’t want to admit it, but you’ll know. Deep down you’ll know. And I won’t feel sorry for you because I warned you.” Her hazel eyes scan the length of me before crinkling at the corners. “You’re nothing but a novelty to him. I promise you that.”
