Tanya snickered at the cheesiness of it, as Melody had a few years ago when her husband had informed her of the slogan he planned to use in a new ad campaign.
“I wouldn’t trust him to clean my litter box,” Paige said. Then she smiled. “Did I tell you about my new cat? He’s so—”
“Shh!” Tanya hissed, silencing Paige. Never an easy feat.
“I had planned to wait him out—let him ruin himself,” Melody said. “But that day, I learned from one of our closest friends that Bill had seduced her eighteen-year-old daughter…a kid we’d bought Girl Scout cookies from a few years back. I sort of lost it. So I got what I needed and drove to his office.”
Around them, the cacophony of noise seemed to diminish, as if everyone were waiting for her to continue. A look confirmed a few eavesdroppers. But considering everyone in Atlanta had seen her swinging like a deranged monkey from a billboard, she’d pretty well used up her lifetime supply of embarrassment.
In a low, shaky voice, Paige asked, “What’d you do, Mel?”
Reaching for her glass, she admitted, “I added a few words to his slogan until it read, ‘You can Trust Dr. Bill to Drill…your wives, your daughters and certain barnyard animals.’”
A snort from the two women at the next table and the grin on the face of the owner—who’d been hovering over Melody since the minute she’d arrived—confirmed her wider audience. At her own table, her three friends made no effort to hide their laughter. “Oh, my goodness, I would have paid to see that,” Paige said, her face growing red as she giggled helplessly.
With a droll lift of her brow, Melody replied, “You could have, if you lived in Atlanta and happened to be watching the eleven-o’clock news that night. The Channel Six helicopter was flying to the scene of an accident and spotted me. They lit me up like a prisoner going over the wall and broadcast the image all over the airwaves for the entire city to see.”
Rosemary shook her head. “Ouch.”
“It gets better,” Tanya mumbled as she dipped a chip.
Yeah. It got better, in a sick, oh-God-can-you-believe-she-actually-did-that way. “I panicked,” Mel said flatly. “Dropped the evidence. Dashed for the ladder. Slipped in the spilled paint—which got all over me—and fell off the end of the platform. The Cherry Cordial should’ve been called Blood Red, because I looked like a monster out of a horror movie dangling up there. King Kong’s mutant baby or something.”
Beside her, Tanya tried to look sympathetic while also trying to hide a grin. Maybe someday Melody would laugh about it, too. Maybe when she was ninety and had managed to forget how stupid she must have looked on TV, hanging from the platform waiting for the firemen who’d rescued her with a ladder truck.
She had thought that was the most humiliating moment of her life, of all the humiliating moments she’d endured during her marriage to the prick with the drill. It’d been close. But it still couldn’t beat the day her divorce decree had come down.
“Oh, sugar, haven’t you heard?” Rosemary said, her lips curved in a smile. “Like Scarlett O’Hara used to say, ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold.’”
Paige frowned. “I thought Hannibal Lechter said that.”
Melody reached for a handful of tortilla chips, not caring how many calories were in each one. Without Bill frowning at her, she didn’t give a damn what she ate or how much weight she gained.
“I think,” Tanya interjected with a disgusted grunt, “it’s Klingon. Though I would have taken the Lechter approach.”
“I didn’t mind billboard vandalism, but I hadn’t reached the point where I wanted to kill my husband and eat his liver with some fava beans.” Melody ate a chip, then added, “So that’s the story. My life of crime and my fifteen minutes of fame.”
“You had a couple of decades of fame,” Paige reminded her.
Right. But no more. She was completely finished with all of that and intended to live life out of the spotlight from now on. Quiet, low-key, no scandals, no adventures.
“Do you have a copy of that news program?” Tanya asked, still looking amused. “You oughta keep it as a warning for any man you consider marrying in the future.”
“Ha-ha, I know, it’s all funny until a male judge who probably cheats on his wife, too, decided Bill’s reputation had been damaged for life and I owed him everything but my internal organs. Which will probably be awarded to him if I appeal.”
“But you are going to appeal, right?” Tanya suddenly sounded serious. They’d had this conversation before, and Melody knew her friend, the fighter, believed this situation could be fixed.
Mel wasn’t so sure. Not that she wouldn’t like her money back, or to at least make sure Bill didn’t get it. But she didn’t want to go back to her old life when she’d been the duped wife, the vengeful ex. Not to mention the target of Bill’s incessant anger and malicious threats.
He hadn’t liked being humiliated and her money apparently hadn’t eased the sting. He’s gone, she reminded herself, refusing to think of his visit to Savannah. Not to mention the heavy-breathing calls she’d received her first weeks in town…until she’d had her number changed. Long gone. And she was done with the past. It was time to find herself again. To stop looking back, to move on, focusing on the future.
Paige suddenly changed the subject. “Do you remember the last time we all came here? The night before Mel’s wedding?”
So much for not looking back. That’d lasted ten seconds.
“We were practically kids,” Tanya replied.
“Well, I happened to stumble across a souvenir from that night,” Paige said with a secretive smile. She reached into the duffel bag she’d been carrying when she’d arrived, and dug out a pad of paper. “Remember everything we talked about?”
It took Melody a moment to recall the entire evening, which seemed like the last truly happy one she’d had. Any happy ones she’d shared with Bill had been zapped out of her memory around year three of their marriage. But when Paige flipped open the notebook and turned it around to show the rest of them, she remembered. “Oh, our infamous Adultery Free Zone lists.”
“Right. We were going to go for it, no questions asked, no guilt, if we ever had the chance with one of these guys.”
“Well,” Rosemary said, “my go-for-it list is on my fridge. I’ve crossed off number five…that Atlanta Braves player? Met him at a New Year’s Eve party and we had sex in a coat closet as the ball was dropping.” Almost purring, she added, “Fortunately, he spent a lot more time going down than the ball did.”
Melody couldn’t help wondering if Rosemary would ever find one man who satisfied her as much as so many men did. “Uh, I thought the lists were a joke.”
“They were…until I met that Braves player.” Rosemary’s smile was definitely catlike. “Speaking of our lists, I’ve kept my copies of all of them. I even dug yours out, Mel, once I knew you were divorcing the dick with the drill and coming home.”
Grunting, Melody said, “Well, someone talking about me having sex is about as close to a sex life as I’ve had in a long time, so I guess I can’t gripe about it.”
The middle-aged owner with thinning dark hair walked by just in time for that comment; his speculative look made her grab for her margarita.
Tanya shuddered. “Quick, Paige, find Mel’s list. If there’s anybody who needs to get laid in this town, it’s her.”
Wrinkling