He continued. "Sometimes, the wind will blow you off course. But that doesn't mean your map is useless. That just means you need to readjust your route. Do you girls understand what I'm trying to tell you?"
"I do," my mom said, her voice hard.
"Not you, Gloria."
I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from snapping the man's head off.
"Girls, do you understand?"
I nodded stiffly and nudged Kera and Mel. They, too, nodded.
"Good. Now it's time to picture the man-not the woman- you plan to marry."
How subtle.
"Remember, no choice is wrong." He cleared his throat. "Who do you see, Kera?"
She glanced to me, her expression saying, Do I really have to answer?
Again I nodded.
"I see someone I love dearly," she said. "But I can't make out a face clearly."
"That's okay. At least you know your map is going to lead you to love. And you, Melody? Who do you see?"
"Actually, I see four men."
"Four?" he gasped out.
"One for every divorce."
"Perhaps we need to readjust your map." He uttered a nervous chuckle. "I'll work with you privately on that." Now he turned his attention to me. "And who do you see, Naomi?"
At that point, I decided I'd had enough. I wasn't in the mood to convince my stepfather that I liked men.
"Well, Naomi?" he persisted.
"I see Jennifer," I told him. "I've been hot for her since I walked into this room." With that, I leaned over and planted the woman a big one.
Surprisingly, she responded.
"How was I supposed to know Jennifer's gay?" I whispered fiercely.
Kera, Mel and I were in the kitchen, supposedly preparing everyone a drink. The therapy session was over and it was now social hour.
"Did you see the look on Dr. Johnnie's face?" Mel asked, laughing. "That was priceless."
"Yeah, come here and kiss me, lover girl." Kera puckered up.
I covered my face with my hands. Guilt hovered over my shoulder for the way I'd glared and snarled at Jennifer, thinking she was Jonathan's secret lover. "What else was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know, but I'm ready to sign up for the next therapy session he wants to give us," Mel said. "I've never laughed so hard. Maybe next time he'll tell me a man's penis is like a flute. Blow it hard enough and you'll make music."
A choked laugh bubbled past my throat. "Just take him a drink and keep everyone busy. I've got some snooping to do."
First, I searched my mom and Jonathan's bedroom. Needless to say, the whole thing creeped me out. I didn't need to know that they slept on red silk sheets and had mirrors on their ceiling. I didn't need to know about the sex toys in the drawer next to their bed. Most of all, I did not need to see the Strokia Sex book-whatever the hell that was-under Jonathan's pillow.
Cringing, I rifled through the dirty clothes hamper and the scent of sweet perfume wafted to my nostrils. Floral and musky, yes, but not lilies. Mom was right; that was not a scent she'd ever wear. I checked Jonathan's shirts for lipstick stains and stray hairs. Nothing. Not a smudge, not a strand. The man was immaculate.
Of course, a cheater needed to be immaculate to properly hide his clandestine activities.
With Richard the Bastard, Yd had to count condoms. He hadn't thought to buy a new box but had used the one from our home. The supply would get low-and they hadn't been used with me. My mom was postmenopausal, so that would be no help.
Where should I look next? Mom had said Jonathan sneaked away to make secret phone calls. I needed to get a hold of his phone bill. Every number dialed and received would be recorded there.
My heartbeat drumming in my ears, I padded quietly to the office. It was small, but crammed with books. Mostly psychiatric mumbo jumbo. His desk drawers were locked, I noticed, eyes narrowing. He probably kept kinky pictures of the other woman in there.
I leaned back in the plush, black leather seat and considered my options. I could jimmy the locks open with a letter opener, but then he'd know I'd been here. I could search for the key, perhaps not find it and waste precious time.
There was no choice, really. I had to risk wasting time by searching for the key.
My gaze circled the room. If I were Jonathan, where would I hide my keys? A place my poor, unsuspecting wife wouldn't think to look for them, that's where. Richard