Despite Alex Peyton’s recent affair with Jen, his paralegal, he and Dana haven’t divorced… yet (“The Little Blue Box”). And although their life before Jen wasn’t perfect, Dana finds herself wondering if life after Jen will be any better.
“He swears it was only a ‘little fling,’” Dana tells her best friend Sue over cups of coffee at Starbucks on Monday morning. “He says his affair with Jen was just-” she curves her fingers to form air quotes “-‘a meaningless, loveless little nothing.’”
“The question is – do you believe him?” Sue’s eyes are avid over the rim of her tall skinny mocha latte.
“I want to believe him,” Dana admits. “He assured me it’s over and that Jen’s been fired from the law firm. Which, I happen to know, she has. I checked. And he pointed out that he’s never done anything like this before.”
Privately, Sue thinks he probably has done it before; he just hadn’t been caught. “And do you believe him?” she asks again, doubtfully.
“Maybe I’m naïve, and stupid,” Dana says with a sigh, “but yes. I do believe him.”
She doesn’t add that Alex had also pointed out – quite fairly – that their sex life had dwindled from two or three times a day (when they first got married), to two or three times a month. He’d turned to another woman, he informed her, because his sex life with Dana was on life support.
And she couldn’t argue the fact. Alex was a lawyer, after all. He was good at arguments.
“I’ve decided to give our love life a shot of adrenalin,” Dana says. “I’m reading ‘Fifty Shades of Grey,’ I’m getting highlights done at the salon – I even have an appointment to get my hoo-ha jewelled and the landing strip readied for takeoff.”
“Go, girl!” Sue exclaims, and lets out a throaty laugh. She leans forward over her latte. “And then what?”
Dana grins impishly. “Well, on Friday night, I’ve planned a quiet, romantic dinner at home… and afterwards, I’m seducing my husband. Sex toys may be involved.”
Sue nearly chokes on her latte.
At last, Friday arrived. After kissing Alex goodbye and waving him off to work, Dana yelled up the stairs. “Becky! Graydon! It’s time to go!”
She hustled her daughter and Sue’s seven-year-old son into the minivan. She’d agreed to watch Graydon for a couple of hours while Sue ran some errands.
“Where’re we going, Mrs. Peyton?” Graydon asked as they backed out of the driveway.
“To drop Becky off to her classes, sweetie,” Dana answered. “She lost her driving privileges after she got a speeding ticket. Didn’t you, Becs?” she added pointedly. Becky glared at her from the back seat but didn’t answer.
Twenty-five minutes later, as Dana turned the van left across the intersection, humming along to “I Will Survive,” there was an unexpected – and loud – crunching sound, and the minivan skewed sideways as a Honda ran the light and slammed into them.
“Oh, shit!” Dana exclaimed. She jammed on the brakes and whirled around to survey the back seat. “Are you guys okay? Anyone hurt?”
“We’re fine, mom,” Becky said. “Can we hurry up, please? I don’t want to be late for class. Mr. Garrison’s a real dick about tardiness.”
“Language, Becky,” Dana scolded. Her glance went to Graydon. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said, frowning. “But a big box flew out from under my seat when we got hit.”
“A box?”
“Yep.” He unbuckled his seat belt to retrieve the box. “It says, “Fred- Fred-er… Freder-ick’s, of… Holly… wood.” He beamed at her, triumphant. “Frederick’s of Hollywood!”
“What?” Dana snatched the box from his hands and stared down at it, dumbfounded. It did indeed say “Frederick’s of Hollywood.” In big, red letters.
Becky snickered. “Maybe dad bought some stuff to – you know… spice things up.”
Was it possible? Dana wondered. Had he bought her some sexy lingerie in anticipation of tonight? Did he plan to surprise her with it later? Well, there was only one way to find out. She ripped the lid from the box and burrowed through the layers of tissue paper like a rabid squirrel.
As she lifted each bit of silk lingerie from the tissue, a thousand thoughts raced through her head. First and foremost, however, was the realization that every single one of the bits of silk – from the racy red thong to the lace-trimmed, demi-cup bra – was a size four.
Size four.
Dana hadn’t worn a size four since… well, ever. Even in high school she was a size six.
Her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened on the bra. That lying, cheating, two-timing, randy-pants swine! Finished with Jen, was he? Fired her, did he?
“Is it a present?” Graydon asked, excited at the thought. “I love presents!”
“No. It’s a surprise,” Dana told him, and somehow managed a smile, even as her thoughts raced. “I have a big surprise planned for Mr. Peyton tonight.”
That evening, after Sue picked up Graydon and Becky went to a friend’s for a sleepover, Dana took the roast squab out of the oven and lit the candles on the dining room table. Everything was ready.
“Hello, darling,” she cooed as Alex arrived a few minutes later.
“God, what a day.” He tossed his briefcase aside and took in the table, laid with their best china and crystal, and raised his brow. “This looks fabulous, Dana. You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”
“No. I shouldn’t have,” she agreed, and turned away to bring in the squab. “Sit down. Pour us some wine.”
When they’d finished dinner – she kept topping up Alex’s wine glass – Dana stood up. “I bought something special to wear for you tonight,” she murmured, and trailed her fingertips playfully along his shoulder as she walked past. “I do hope you like it.”
He grinned up at her and made a growling sound. “I can’t wait,” he murmured.
Five minutes later Dana returned, the Frederick’s of Hollywood box in her hands. “Here you are. I found it,” she announced curtly as she thrust it at him, “under the back seat of the minivan.”
A gamut of expressions flickered across his face – guilt, shock, confusion, consternation – but to his credit, he quickly regained his equilibrium. “What is it? Who put it there?”
“It’s some very racy lingerie from Freddie’s of Hollywood. And while I don’t know who put it there, I’d say the odds are good-” Dana glared at him “-that you did, Alex.”
“Me?” He snorted. “Why would I put a box full of tacky lingerie under the backseat of the minivan, where, I might add, you’d be sure to find it?”
“Why? Because,” she replied as she crossed her arms against her chest, “when you bought that stuff for Jen – or whoever you’re screwing at present – you needed to hide the box. So you stuck it under the seat of the minivan because you figured (a) I’d never find it there and (b) if I did, you’d just deny it. Like you always do. Maybe you even wanted me to find it You’re a pathological liar, Alex, and a serial cheater who can’t keep his trousers zipped for ten minutes.”
“How do you know the box isn’t… Becky’s?” he demanded, his eyes wild.
“Because,” Dana flung back, “Becky’s a size eight. Not a size four. Nor does she have any reason to buy racy lingerie. And that’s a cheap shot, even for you – pointing the blame at your own daughter! Anything else to offer in your defense, Mr. Peyton?”
Alex let out a short breath and stood up. “No. I suppose this means our little night of fun and frolic is over before it’s begun, then.”
“Dead in the water,” Dana agreed tightly. “Like our marriage. I hope Jen – or whoever she is this time – is worth it, Alex. And I hope she likes the lingerie.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex said at last, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m a shit husband, I know it. But despite everything, Dana… I do love you.”
“It’s okay.” She busied herself clearing the dishes from the table. “I’m kind of relieved it’s over. I guess I knew you were still cheating on me. I just didn’t want to face facts.”
He thrust his hands in his pockets. “I’ve hurt you. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry,” Dana said as she scraped the leftover squab into the trash. “After all,” she added, “one good thing came of our marriage. Besides Becky, I mean.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
She straightened and met his eyes. “I got a really nice pair of Tiffany earrings out of the deal. And I’ll think of you, Alex, every time I wear them.”