Diary of a bad housewife

Diary of a bad housewife chapter 9

Chapter 9

Even if I could bring myself to talk in front of Dean, Elvira looked in no condition to share my news. Appearing thoroughly sexed and bedraggled, she struggled over to my chair to release my cuffs. She whispered, "You wan' Dean do you?"

I couldn't deny fantasizing about it, but I shook my head. I desperately needed to ease the throb between my legs, but cheating wasn't my style.

Before I slipped out the door, Elvira paused long enough to remind me to come to her party, which I had no presence of mind to think about. Moments later, they tumbled back into bed, giggling and groping, working themselves up again.

On the ride home, my brain fragmented, too frazzled to maintain connected thoughts. I tried to return my mind to the inheritance, even as my body thrummed with unrequited sexual vibration while the smell of sex lingered pungent in my nostrils. I badly wanted to pull over and thrash that little girl in the boat.

I needed to pull myself together and keep my mind on financial matters, but Elvira's scene, sordid as it was, made clear a glaring hole in my life. I envied her simple enjoyment, her sexuality, her easy ability to relate to men. One day she'd marry a good husband and be a faithful wife. One day she'd dote upon children and grandchildren, and age gracefully in her elder years. At every stage in her existence, Elvira would appreciate and enjoy life without over-thinking, without agonizing. I possessed none of those abilities.

Awaiting me at the house, I found a manila envelope with the Singapore address of Atwater, Rhodes, and Kent. Hoping to find a check or monetary release, I found something better. Inside was a photograph that read, "To Julia, my sister in modeling. Love, Aishwarya."

Former Miss World? Aishwarya Rai? The woman CBS News called "the most beautiful woman in the world"?

I clutched it to my breast. Never in my wildest imagination I imagined I'd cross paths with a star like her. Harry Rhodes, God bless his soul, made dreams possible.

Part of me wanted to dangle my good fortune in front of my mother, but I knew she'd find a way to spoil it. I thought about sharing it with Colin, but he shunned the whole celebrity thing, insisting it was meaningless. Little could he appreciate whom I was rubbing elbows with. And damn Elvira anyway; served her right for being selfishly involved with her lover instead of basking in my joy. No, I decided, I couldn't share this.

Harry included a note, instructing me to send €1011.16 for Taiwan closing fees. In phone conversations, I heard him pronounce 'euro' as 'ur-oh', not 'yur-oh' as I might have expected. He explained I was caught in an unfortunate position with the exchange rate, but I would be multiply compensated after bringing foreign funds into the US, now hovering at $83 million, he estimated.

Eighty-three million dollars. Inconceivable. In a funny way, the thought of having so much money made me look kindly upon Colin and my marriage. If he later pissed me off and I still wanted to divorce, I could give him half, because even a fraction of $83 million made me a rich woman by any standard.

I knew one thing: I could never shape Colin with money. He simply wasn't built that way, probably one of the reasons he and my Aunt Sadie got along so well. Colin couldn't be bought.

Eighty-three million. Numbers like that make a girl look at things differently.

I started to toss the envelope away, when I noticed it held one other sheet of paper, a hand-written memo from Harry.

"My dear Julia, One week from today, I must return to London. On the way, I will fly in with a cheque for you. I expect you will have U.S. Customs tax to deal with, but congratulations: you are a wealthy woman. Should you be willing to meet me at the airport, I shall have a «model» surprise. Best regards, Harry."

A model surprise? That could mean only one thing; he would fly in with one of the models involved with the relief project. How exciting! I squealed with delight.

When Colin arrived home a half hour later, he stormed my cloud nine into dark thunderheads.

"Julia, I tried calling you several times today, both the house and your cell phone."

"I was out, visiting Elvira, if you must know. What's with the fire drill?"

"I stopped at Toys-R-Us to pick up the tricycle for Jennifer's birthday. They wouldn't let me buy it. Want to guess why?"

I shook my head.

"They wouldn't accept our MasterCard. It seems we're over the limit. The bank tells me forty-one hundred dollars has been charged in the past eleven days to Western Union. Care to explain it?"

"Four thousand one hundred dollars? That's not possible." In shock, I tried to run through my mind the recent transfers. Some days, perhaps $600, others no more than $275. I wasn't sure. Maybe he was right.

"I'm sorry, Colin. I'm responsible. I hadn't realized the total."

"What's going on, Julia? Don't you think I should know when you spend this much money? After all, I am your husband."

"I didn't spend it, not exactly. I can't tell you yet why I need the money."

"Yet?" He stood silently for a few moments, studying me. "What's going on, Julia? Are you being blackmailed? Is someone trying to extort you? Is your family in trouble?" He looked deep into my eyes. "Julia, I don't care about your past. I love you in the here and now."

I felt touched. I reached for him. "Oh, no, nothing like that. I'll explain it in a few days; I just can't tell you yet."

"Are you helping out your parents? Or your Aunt Sadie?"

"No, no. They're fine. They're plenty well off. Just trust me, Colin."

He remained silent. I always waited for Colin to explode, but he never did. He could get angry, but never outraged. He was the most self-contained man I knew. Just once, couldn't he throw me across his knee and spank me? Show me who's boss?

Finally, he said, "There's another little matter of a three hundred sixty dollar charge from a dress shop. What's going on I don't know about?"

"Believe in me, Colin. It's a surprise and I need a few days."

Colin softened. "All right. I trust you, but you can't do something like this without consulting me. We're supposed to be partners. Okay?"

Trust me? I thought. You with the secret American Express card?

"All right," I conceded, anticipating sweet vindication when I could tell him I was a wealthy woman.