Susan Mallery: Wife in Disguise

For one brief moment in time she allowed herself to remember what it had been like when she’d taken her body for granted. She’d been a born athlete and her world had consisted of running and bounding and achieving. Over the past year she’d learned to measure her progress in single steps…sometimes in mere inches.

She draped her purse over her right shoulder and braced the cane with her left hand. The path up to the building seemed endlessly long, with three shallow steps in the ten or so feet of concrete. There was a time when she would have raced to the door without a second thought. Now she had to consciously move her damaged left leg, lifting with still-healing muscles and ignoring the burning pain that was her constant companion. She paused at the halfway point to catch her breath and to admire Catherine’s exquisite roses.

Del’s mother had a gift for making things grow. The mild temperatures had brought the fragrant blooms out early, and Josie lingered to inhale their sweetness. When she was relaxed and rested enough to continue, she started for the glass door.

As she moved, she could see herself reflected in the glass. The tall, awkwardly gaited woman was a stranger. Not just the long hair and the soft flowing dress, but the face. The side impact of the truck had caused glass to slice her face. In the first six months after the accident, a gifted plastic surgeon had restored the damage, making her into a pretty young woman. But the slightly more prominent cheekbones and rounded chin had little in common with the features of her birth. Except for her eyes and the shape of her mouth, she was a stranger to herself. She smiled as she thought of Del’s shock as he would try to figure out who she was, then his reaction when he did. Her smile faded. Would he be happy or annoyed that she’d walked back into his life?

She reached the glass door and managed to maneuver her way into the waiting area of the office. The spacious entry had been filled with large windows and comfortable furniture. Oversize photos of recent restorations hung on the wall. A rectangular table in the center offered a place to study blueprints.

Josie turned to the receptionist, sitting behind a big cherry-wood desk. The dark-haired woman in her late forties didn’t look familiar. She offered Josie a pleasant smile.

“May I help you?”

Josie had to brush her suddenly damp palms against her skirt. She could feel her stomach tightening as she fought against the need to flee. She’d been crazy to come back. Del wasn’t going to want to talk to her. They’d been divorced for three years; they had nothing to say to each other.

“I, um…” She cleared her throat. The accident had damaged her vocal cords so that her normally high-pitched voice had become low and husky. “I’d like to see Del Scott, please. I don’t have an appointment.”

The woman nodded. “He just happens to be in. Let me buzz him.” She paused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

Before Josie could respond, the phone rang. The woman excused herself and took the call. Three more followed in rapid succession. When there was a lull, she quickly buzzed Del and told him he had a visitor.

Josie limped over to a sofa and studied the floral print. She was more concerned about the softness of the padding than the fabric used. If she sat down, she wanted to be sure that she could stand up again. Getting trapped in a chair wasn’t her idea of making a good impression on her ex.

The door leading to the back swung open. Josie turned quickly-too quickly. Her weight shifted before her legs were ready and she nearly stumbled. Only by putting most of her weight on her cane was she able to stay upright. She forced herself to get control and balance before she allowed herself to look at the newcomer.

She’d been wrong about being prepared to see him again.

Recognition slammed into her. Her chest went tight and her leg muscles shook the way they did after a ninety-minute therapy session. Sound seemed to fade, then get too loud as she stared at the man who’d once been her husband.

Del was tall-six foot two-which made him about a half foot taller than her. He was broad shouldered with muscles earned through years of construction work. Close-cropped dark hair gleamed in the overhead lights and his eyes were still chocolate-brown and glinting with humor. He was good-looking, charming and attentive in bed.

He was also staring at her with the polite expression he would offer any stranger.

“I’m Delaney Scott,” he said, holding out his hand. “Please call me Del. How can I help you?”

He didn’t recognize her. Josie blinked in surprise. She’d thought it might take him a minute, but she’d never considered the fact that he wouldn’t even have a flicker of recognition.

“I, um…”

Her voice trailed off as she struggled to figure out what she was supposed to say. Seeing him had rocked her to her soul. As she continued to stare at his familiar features, she realized that she didn’t know what she was feeling. Confusion, a draw to the past, a strong desire to run. What on earth had she been thinking when she’d come here? Was she going to say, “Gee, Del, I’m Josie. Can we talk about what went wrong in our marriage?” She needed time. The trick was how to get some.

Finally she realized he was still holding out his hand. She offered hers and they shook. The feel of his skin against hers was too familiar. She shivered as she remembered all the wonderful things that hand could do to her.

As she released him, she was conscious of his questioning silence and the stare of the receptionist. Josie wasn’t talking, she wasn’t doing anything but acting like an idiot. If she wasn’t careful they were going to call for the men with the straitjackets.

Del motioned to the sofa she’d been studying. “Would you like a seat?”

She tapped her cane lightly on the hardwood floor. “I’m a little concerned about being able to get up if I do.”

As she spoke the words, she kept her gaze on his face, wanting to see any revulsion or pity in his expression. Neither appeared. Instead he glanced at the couch, then nodded. “Why don’t you risk it? If there’s a problem when we’re done, I’ll help you up. Or Jan will.” He nodded at the receptionist.

“All right.”

Josie shifted until she was standing in front of the sofa, then slowly lowered herself into a sitting position. She hated that she had to think the process through-keeping her weight evenly distributed and using her cane to slow her descent. Nothing physical was easy for her anymore.

Del settled at the far end of the couch and angled toward her. His expression was pleasant, if slightly confused. He still had no clue who she was.

“Do you want to tell me why you stopped by?” he asked, with the patience of someone dealing with a very shy person. “I assume it has something to do with a house. Are you interested in restoration?”

Just being this close to him made her feel safe. Josie realized that she’d spent the past twelve months fighting fear. The relief of being able to let it go-even for a few minutes-made her feel giddy enough to float.

As she looked into his dark eyes, she realized that she’d been insane to expect Del to simply take a meeting with her and discuss their marriage. It had been three years. They were strangers. He wouldn’t care that she needed closure.

But she also wasn’t willing to walk away. The last year of their marriage had been hell. One fight after another, punctuated by periods of rage. Which meant she should have been over him. Yet ever since the accident, she hadn’t been able to get Del out of her mind. She needed time to figure out why. There seemed to be only one way to get that respite.

“I’m interested in the Miller place,” she said, surprising both him and herself.