Chapter 5

Samantha’s expression said she did, but she wouldn’t admit it. “It’s in here,” she held up an envelope, “but first explain what happened to change your feelings about her. You know someone can overcome their past, change, and move on, and the last thing they want is someone to bring it up. What are you really worried about?”

“Anthony shouldn’t be blindsided. He has a right to know. Andre knew exactly what he was getting, Anthony has the right to know.”

“Like you knew what you were getting?” Samantha asked. “Trophy wife. Arm-candy.”

“Don’t be mean, Sam, it’s not like you.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, and I’m happy for you, really.”

Margaret wanted to believe that, but it wasn’t possible, not after what happened at the bachelorette party or the kiss Samantha gave her when she was helping Margaret put on her wedding dress. Margaret hadn’t pulled away fast enough, and maybe she didn’t want to at all.

Her best friend’s pleading face would always be there, burned onto her brain. We’re two pieces in a pair, peas in a pod, and we go together, Samantha had said. It was true. They had been, almost since the day they met on the playground of that Texas grade school.

As kids, before they knew anything about each other, Margaret had been drawn to Samantha. She was a quiet, brooding girl until they got together. They brought each other out of their shells, started getting in trouble together, grew up too fast, and became rebellious teenagers, closer than sisters.

Margaret thought of Samantha as the sister she never had, if she never had a sister, but Margaret couldn’t say for sure. By the time her parents had the talk with her, Margaret had already thought of herself as the red-headed stepchild. The leering eyes of her older dark-haired brothers assured her she had been adopted as a baby. Nothing was known about her birth parents or her foster parents just kept it from Margaret.

She and Samantha used to joke about her unknown pasts until she didn’t care anymore where she had come from. The bodacious-bodied goth girl, Sammy, and the gorgeous redhead, Maggie were more concerned about where they were going. Anywhere except here, they used to say.

“It’s in her eyes,” Margaret said. “From the first time I met her, she hugged me and stared into my eyes like she knew me. She told me she felt like she knew me, and always with the hugs that seemed to last too long. It’s the vibes, you know, we pick up on things like that. I notice, catch her staring, flirting, maybe.”

“So you think she’s into you, or into girls, so uh ... what?”

I don’t know, Margaret thought. It sounded crazy now that she had verbalized what was probably only a feeling. “Maybe she’s the kind of girl who isn’t faithful, or she’s not sure what she wants, and if Anthony marries her.” Margaret shrugged. “Then what?”

Samantha stared at Margaret, her mouth opened and closed a few times. “Don’t look at me like that,” Margaret said.

“Like what? Like, I know you know how crazy you sound right now?” Samantha asked. “Or, like I know you know the answer to your question?”

“Look, this isn’t about me. I explained, so you should give me that.”

“I will, but please don’t open it ... not yet. Talk to Jennifer, ask her, give her a chance to open up to you. Tell her about you, and what she’s getting into.”

Margaret sighed heavily. “Okay, I’ll do that, I will.” She took the envelope from her friend and stuffed it down into her purse. “Thank you, Sam, thank you for being you.”

“Anything for you.”

There wasn’t anything else they could talk about, so Samantha kissed Margaret’s cheek and opened the door. “Maggie, I miss you.” She slid out of the SUV.

“Sammy, me too.”

Samantha stepped back, said, “Maggie, this is about you,” and shut the door.

Margaret let her friend go without saying anything, wiped her eyes, and started the car.

This time, on the drive home, Margaret thought about the things Samantha said, what she held back, and the implications. I’m a trophy wife who will always be seen as someone who married for the money.

She hadn’t ever gotten used to the stares, whispers, and disdain from Andre’s parents. It frustrated her more after years of being a faithful, adoring wife who got nothing if Andre died. She hadn’t hesitated to sign a prenuptial agreement. It was a badge of honor, proof that she loved Andre and wasn’t some tramp who seduced the older man so she could live in a mansion and get his money when he died.

Anthony was the only family member who accepted her and believed Margaret loved his father and was a faithful wife. But only after testing her and being rejected several times.

Was Margaret trying to save Anthony from Jennifer, or did Jennifer need to be saved from the wonderful life Margaret now lived? Sam’s right, Margaret thought, this is about me.