Twisted: Brides of the Kindred 23 Read online

  So she’d had no choice but to cede the lucrative sale to Missy—who would probably use the commission to get herself a week at one of those spa yoga retreats she was always talking about or something equally frivolous. Nikki wished she could go away on some kind of retreat but between the twins’ therapy, sports, and school commitments plus the endless laundry, cooking, and cleaning there always was to do, she was lucky to get a minute to herself, let alone a whole week.

  The rest of the day at work wasn’t much better—she got a call from Jude’s high school telling her that he had cheated on his Biology exam and skipped sixth period again and a reminder from the twins’ middle school that both their 504 plan meetings were coming up. Somehow she would have to try and make time in her busy schedule to get to their school or their services would doubtless be slashed.

  Well maybe Gary could help for once, she’d thought, without much hope. He had an hour long lunch break every day—which was more than she could say for herself. Mostly she ate fast food as she rushed from one listing to another, trying to make sure everything looked perfect for the multiple showings Missy did every day. At the very least, he could have a talk with Jude about his bad behavior.

  They needed to do something about their oldest son before his life went completely down the drain. Maybe with both of them working they could afford a private school—ever since he’d started high school, he’d been getting into trouble and Nikki really felt like it was because he’d gotten into the wrong group of kids and they were dragging him down and having a bad influence on him.

  Work worries and kid troubles filled her brain all day as she struggled to get the twins to therapy and make sure that Jude had really gone to soccer practice instead of ditching to hang out with his disreputable friends. By the time she had struggled through the twins’ confusing common core math assignments and made Jude at least attempt his own homework, Nikki was exhausted. For dinner, she simply threw a frozen pizza in the oven and opened a bag of pre-chopped salad. It might not be a home-cooked meal, but it was literally all she could manage at the moment.

  After a silent supper where Gary paid more attention to his cell phone than his family, Jude picked at his food and scowled, and the twins bickered and fought endlessly, she was finally able to get her husband alone.

  “We need to talk,” she began, coming into his “man cave” and shutting the door behind her, to be certain they weren’t overheard.

  “Now?” A look of irritation had passed over Gary’s pudgy features as he craned his neck to look around her—his attention glued to the TV where the Bucks were playing.

  “Yes, now,” Nikki said firmly, planting herself in front of the TV. “Jude’s in trouble, Gary, and I really think…”

  “All right, fine. You want to talk? We’ll talk. Just make it quick—the Bucks are winning for the first time this season and I don’t want to miss the whole damn game.”

  Punching the remote control, Gary muted the game and glared up at her from his Lazy-boy recliner. The one with built in heat and massage features that Nikki had scrimped and saved to buy him as a Christmas present the first year she went back to work after the twins finally entered middle school.

  “Well? Go ahead—talk,” he snarled.

  Nikki was a little taken aback at his open irritation, but it wasn’t like they could put this off—she needed his help with the boys. She went into detail about what was going on with their oldest son and also how she needed some help making it to the 504 meetings for the twins. Gary listened impatiently, his eyes straying often to the muted screen and just as often to his cell phone.

  “Are you done?” he demanded when she finally finished.

  “Well…yes.” Nikki looked at him uncertainly. “Gary, if you’d just talk to Jude—he won’t listen to me anymore.”

  “Hell, Nikki—he won’t listen to anyone. He’s a teenager. But he’ll come back around in a few years.” Her husband gave a snort of impatience. “And as for the twins, we agreed back when we had kids that I would do the real work and you would deal with them—remember? So I’m afraid you’re on your own for that meeting. You’ll just have to work it out somehow.”

  “But I’m working again now too,” Nikki reminded him. “I have been for the past two years and it’s really hard to juggle a job and all three boys and their schools at the same time. I know you make more money than me, Gary, but I really think—”

  He held up a hand to stop her.

  “I’m sorry, Nikki, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend anymore,” he said. Abruptly, he got out of his chair and started to pace.

  “Do what? Pretend what?” Nikki had a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach but she told herself her husband of sixteen years must be kidding around. Or maybe he just needed to blow off some steam.

  What about me? Don’t I ever get to blow off steam? she thought resentfully. But of course she didn’t—she was a mom and a wife and her needs always came last.

  But then her husband’s next words blew everything else out of her mind.

  “I can’t pretend to be invested in this relationship anymore,” he said, frowning. “It’s too much work—too much pressure. I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “Too much pressure? What are you talking about?” Nikki demanded. Suddenly all the stress of the day had come down on her and she heard a stream of words—words she usually suppressed—pouring out like a torrent of dirty water.

  “I do all the work around here, Gary!” she exclaimed. “I take the boys to school and pick them up and take them to therapy and soccer practice and make them do their homework and do their laundry—yours too—and make dinner and make sure everyone gets to bed on time and all while I hold down a full-time job! All you do is go to work and come home to eat dinner and lounge around your man cave drinking beer until it’s time to go to bed! All I’m asking for is a little help parenting your sons. Is that so much to ask?”

  Gary had given her a nasty look, but he hadn’t said a word. Instead, he went across the room to his roll-top desk and opened a cabinet on the side. He pulled out a thick sheaf of paperwork and handed it to her silently.

  “What’s this?” Nikki had taken the papers uncertainly. Looking down at the top sheet she read, “Petition for Dissolution of Marriage with Dependent or Minor Children and Relocation.”

  The coldness in the pit of her stomach was growing but she still didn’t understand, couldn’t let herself understand.

  “What is this?” she asked again, looking up from the papers. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Nikki? I want a divorce.” Her husband waved at the papers. “I know this is bad timing—what with tomorrow being your birthday and all. I was trying to be considerate and wait until after it was over, at least. But I just can’t take it anymore.”

  “But…I don’t understand.” Nikki shook her head. Now the coldness had been replaced with the feeling that she’d been punched in the gut with a lead-weighted glove. “It’s not like I deny you sex,” she pointed out. Although come to think of it, Gary hadn’t been interested in making love with her in months. “Is there another woman? Is that why you’re doing this?”

  “Of course not!” Gary denied, but his eyes slid past hers and he refused to look at her when he said it. “Although if there was, you could hardly blame me,” he went on defensively.

  “What?” Nikki put a hand on her hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, just look at yourself, Nikki—you’ve really let yourself go these past few years. What size are you now? Sixteen? Eighteen? Extra-extra large?”

  “Extra-extra large?” Nikki exclaimed—she was still fighting to believe what was going on here. And the fact that Gary was calling her fat was really rich—he had a prominent beer gut himself, mostly from laying around in his recliner drinking beer while she did literally all of the housework.

  He scowled and waved a hand in the air.

  “I don’t know—I don’t