Wife-In-Law by Haywood Smith Page B

looking back.
    Once there, I went straight for the snacks and the white zinfandel, then sat eating chips and salsa, sipping my wine and thanking God that I didn’t have to take care of anybody but myself for the moment.
    After I unpacked and went to bed, I said my prayers for the girls and my grandchildren, then added, “And God, please help Greg be the man Kat deserves. She’s already so hurt from losing Zach.” My spoiling had helped make Greg the selfish jerk he was, but Kat didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of. Greg’s lingering hostility to me kept me from believing his sudden conversion. He was simply doing whatever it took to get Kat to take care of him. “Please, God, protect her.”
    Leaving it on God’s doorstep, I rolled over and went to sleep, then ruined everything by having an erotic dream about my ex at four in the morning. I was so mad when I woke up, I wanted to call his cell phone and cuss him out. Only good sense kept me from doing it.
    After all, it wouldn’t do to tell him. He’d gloat forever.
    Why had I let him into my dreams? Was just seeing him enough to trigger it? Lord, I hoped not.
    Lying there in the dark, I wondered how I was going to manage, day in and day out, with Greg across the street.
    How can you move on with your ex married to your best friend across the cul-de-sac? But Greg was a creature of habit who hated change, so I knew better than to hope he’d move away once they were married. The flat real estate market aside, Kat’s home would be way too convenient and familiar for him, doggone it.
    Speaking of dogs, he’d have some adjusting to do with her feckless menagerie. I let out an evil chuckle.
    And Kat’s horrendous housekeeping. That wasn’t going to sit well with my marine.
    I smiled in the darkness. Maybe if Kat was lucky, Greg would get tired of the mess and clean it up himself. Now, there was a picture.
    One thing was sure: things were about to change at Kat’s. I just hoped it would be for the better.
    On that happy thought, I rolled over and went back to sleep.
     
     
    In spite of my continued efforts to be friendly, Kat still froze me out. By the time her kids started decorating her house for the wedding, Amelia—who’d refused to have any part of her father’s remarriage—was begging me to come see her in California, so I wouldn’t be there when it happened. On the other hand, Emma, who’d been flown down for the wedding, argued that it was fine if I stayed home during the ceremony—as long as I didn’t peek out the windows while the wedding was taking place on Kat’s front porch.
    Personally, I didn’t see what all the fuss was about. I’d meant it when I said I hoped my ex and my wife-in-law would be happy. I just wished they’d do it somewhere else.

Six
     
    April 1, 1957. Rhomboid Avenue, Atlanta
     
    D addy was packing, but I didn’t believe he was really leaving. Mama had said he was, but it was April Fools’ Day. So I didn’t cry when she’d told me over breakfast that he was leaving us for another family, and I couldn’t talk to him about it, not one word, or he’d get mad and never come see me again. Or even call. But it had to be a joke.
    I knew my father loved me, and he would never leave me with crazy Mama. Even if he did find another family without a crazy mother like mine, he’d take me with him. So I sat on the big bed and swung my feet back and forth while he packed, waiting for him to say “April Fools!”
    Mama was in her chair in the living room, watching her soap operas, as usual, another reason not to believe Daddy was really leaving. If he really, truly was going, Mama would be hysterical. I mean, how would she live? She never went out anymore, not even to take care of the roses she used to love when I was little.
    Where would she get money for food, and who would bring the groceries without Daddy? Who would take me to the bus stop and pick me up on rainy days?
    No, he couldn’t really be leaving.
    But when he