Six

      By the middle of the week, the news was all over town that Ted Forrester was having an affair and had left Rachel and the kids. It was impossible for word of the scandal not to reach into every nook and cranny of Rose Hill. Everywhere she went—from church to the grocery store, from the shopping mall to staff meetings at school—Rachel felt herself the object of pitying looks and worse, the morbid curiosity people had about infidelity when it struck someone they knew.

      “I feel like an all-too-familiar cliché,” she told Marta in the break room on Wednesday. “I’m the nearly forty, boring wife who’s been dumped for the more exciting, sexy younger woman.” She stirred powdered cream into her coffee. “And you know what, Marta? It happens so often that it doesn’t even shock people anymore. I’m the only one who’s shocked. What they say is true. The wife’s the last to know. What galls me the most is that I should have seen it coming.”

      “How could you when you just don’t think that way? And you aren’t boring.” Marta worked at the tab on a can of soda. “Besides, you’d never cheat even if you were bored to death and sexually frustrated to boot. You’d look for solutions.” She stopped with the can at her mouth. “I guess you’re thinking of suggesting counseling to him…or something like that, huh?”

      Rachel leaned against the counter holding her coffee. “It takes two, Marta. And Ted’s not interested in trying to save our marriage. He just wants to get on with the transition from husband and father to unfettered bachelor, ASAP.”

      “What a guy.”

      Rachel stood in silence for a few moments. “I’ve retained a lawyer.”

      Eyes wide, Marta set her can down hard. “Now you’ve surprised me. This is good. This is smart. What did he say?”

      “She. It’s Stephanie Roscoe. She urged me to be at the bank when it opened Monday morning. I thought Ted probably wouldn’t be devious enough to fool around with our finances without consulting me, but after that scene at the lake, I wasn’t willing to risk taking the chance. Besides, I’d only learned about the affair on Friday and I assumed he wouldn’t have had time to do anything.”

      “I think I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

      Rachel still felt stunned. “But apparently, right after the scene with Walter, he went to a branch of our bank that’s open on Saturday and drew out almost all our ready cash, then he fixed it so that nearly everything else is blocked. So until we work out some agreement for the division of our joint assets, I’m pretty much dependent on what he sees fit to dole out. It’s humiliating to be the object of everyone’s pity now that his affair is public, but this makes it even worse. On top of being infuriated, I’m frustrated as hell, Marta.”

      “What happened to ‘I only want a separation,”’ Marta asked, looking openly disgusted.

      Rachel’s effort to laugh fell short. “After I ripped into him at the cabin, I think he’s probably rushing to have divorce papers drawn up. Which is fine with me.” She was still furious over the sneaky way he’d moved out, but her tirade had prodded him into facing the kids. He had shown up soon after they came home that day and made a lame attempt to explain why he was leaving. Nick was stoic, for the most part. And Kendall was a little weepy, bless her heart. Rachel had remained silent, and after Ted left, she’d had a hard time keeping her own resentment from showing when they’d plied her with tons of questions.

      “What does Stephanie say?”

      “That I’m certainly not to sit still and let him take advantage of me. She and I worked out some terms of the separation on Sunday and he was served with the papers Monday morning at the practice.” Making a face, she set her coffee aside. “I’ve tried to reach him ever since, but he’s obviously avoiding me. I just hope there aren’t any other stunning surprises in store.”

      Both looked up as the door to the break room opened and Monk Tyson entered.

      “Hey, Rachel. Marta. How’s it goin’, gals?” Lifting the coffeepot, he poured himself a cup and turned, propping one hip against the small table, his feet crossed at the ankles.

      “Just peachy,” Marta said. “And you?”

      “Same here. Couldn’t be better.” Rose Hill’s coach and athletic director looked exactly what he was—an athlete just past his prime. His broad shoulders were a little too thick and he wasn’t as buff as he’d once been. But he was a good-looking man with strong features, very light blue eyes and a full head of sandy-blond hair.

      “Morning, Monk.” Rachel was not in the mood for Monk’s chitchat. Just the opposite. He’d ignored the last note she sent him about Ferdy Jordan, one of his athletes who was one point away from academic probation. As a coach, he needed to take a stronger hand in encouraging his athletes academically instead of helping them get around the standards established by the school. It was an ongoing battle between them that she was determined to win for the sake of the athletes.

      He leaned against the counter with his coffee and spoke to Rachel. “Hey, I heard about Ted and it stinks to high heaven. What’s wrong with that guy? He’s got steak at home and he wants hamburger instead?” He shook his head. “I hope you don’t let it get you down.”

      “I think I’ll survive,” she said coldly. Inside, she cringed with humiliation. She’d had no doubt that all of Rose Hill was buzzing with the scandal, but having Monk chatting about it so casually was particularly embarrassing.

      “Hard to figure what comes over guys when they get to that stage,” he said.

      “What stage is that, Monk?” Marta asked in an even tone.

      “Well, you know.” He turned back to get a paper napkin. “They’re forty-something, they get an itch, they spot a sweet thing and, wham, they lose their minds.”

      With both hands around her can of soda, Marta looked at him. “Hmm, that is deep.”

      Unfazed, he looked at Rachel. “I’m glad I ran into you, Rachel. I’d planned to drop by later today.”

      “You got my note about Ferdy?”

      “Yeah, but he’ll be okay. I’ll jack him up and he’ll get it together. It’s Nick I wanted to talk about.”

      “Nick?” She paused, her cup in midair.

      Using the napkin, he wiped at a few drops of coffee on his shirt. “He’s been looking real good in practice lately, so much