The Major's Wife (Jubilant Falls series Book 2) by Debra Gaskill Page B

so foolish, Ed. Monty gave them to me all the time." That much was true. My husband, Montgomery, had insisted on watching me closely, too; but with him, there was comfort in knowing no one other than he knew what was going on. I couldn't let Ed in. He might tell Ellen, who spread more news than the Jubilant Falls Journal-Gazette , and then God knows how far it would go.
    Someone is going to find out anyway, a voice told me. Someone is going to find out the truth about you one of these days.
    "Just write the prescription, and I promise I'll come in next time."
    "Marian, you better. This is the last time." Reluctantly, his big-knuckled hand dragged his pen across the prescription pad. "Stop and see the receptionist on your way out for an appointment."
    "Of course."
    I ran past the receptionist and out the office to the ladies’ room down the hall. I choked down another of my remaining capsules, drinking water directly from the faucet. God, what if someone sees me like this? I choked in terror and locked myself in a stall.
    I can't go on like this forever. I lay my forehead against the cool, gray tile. This can't continue.
    If the truth were known, they'll come for you. They'll take you back.
    Tears coursed down my face, puddling on the chrome toilet paper holder. I bit into my purse handle, to quiet my sobs. No one must ever find me. No one must ever know.
    I had been found once thirty-five years ago, six months after Montgomery and I were married. Montgomery and I had gone for a long weekend to Chicago. I had gone shopping at Marshall Field's for a new fur coat, back when furs were still the mark of taste and class and not the mark of some political incorrectness. I felt a pair of eyes boring into my back and turned to see the woman behind the counter staring.
    "My, my, Marian! I just knowed it was you! I though so the minute I laid eyes on—"
    "What do you want?" I snapped.
    "Why, nothing! It's just such a surprise to see you, of all people, here in Chicago. Ya know, you were quite the story after ya left town."
    "What do you want? Money?" I searched through my clutch purse for a spare bill.
    "Why, Lordy, no, deary! Ya just wouldn't believe what all's gone on back home since you left," she babbled. "Why don't we get together for a cup of coffee sometime soon? Do you live here in Chicago now? I’d love to catch ya up on all of it."
    "Meet me at the diner on the corner in fifteen minutes." I dropped the silver fox coat in the aisle and walked out.
    She was already there when I arrived. I sat quietly, picking nervously at a piece of angel food cake in front of me, offering only minimal information, as she rattled on and on. Finally, she finished her story.
    I laid a one hundred-dollar bill on the counter.
    "This pays for everything. You can keep whatever is left. Whatever you do, don't tell anyone you saw me here."
    I never went to Chicago again. I wouldn’t even order out of Marshall Field’s catalog.
    As time went by, the yoke of my masquerade wore heavier and heavier on my shoulders. The voices told me I’d be caught if I went outside. I made Montgomery hire a housekeeper to do the marketing, and I stayed safely hidden away from anyone who might know the truth, until one day Montgomery had told me there were these marvelous little pills that gave me the courage to go out again. Besides, Montgomery's practice and his stature in the community had grown. I had responsibilities, and I needed to live up to them.
    Now, thirty-five years later, as the medicated calm began to reassert itself, I smoothed my hair and fixed my make-up. No one must see through me like that woman once did—or like I did myself.
    Confident again, I squared my shoulders. It was time to meet Lovey at the club for lunch.
    Dear Lovey. I don't know what I would have done without her in those early years after I married Monty. She helped me through all manner of social occasions, helping to plan menus and parties when Monty’s practice was just starting