The Happy Housewife (Samantha Sherman Book 1) (3 page)

Of course, she quickly reminded herself, flying was not all sunshine and cloud surfing. Her grin faded, she looked down and headed towards her car which was parked at the curb. Sam reached her Honda Civic and hoped that her seats would not be too hot. She hopped in and found the interior uncomfortably hot and stuffy, as expected. She reached back for her seat belt and gasped “
Owww
,” as the metal of the buckle seared her skin. The sudden jerking of her hands knocked her purse over and its contents dumped onto the passenger seat and floor. Sam practically growled as she bent over and began scooping up items into her purse.

She was semi aware of another car approaching and then parking close by. Sam tuned in as two people got out of the car, arguing as they slammed their doors. She glanced up and realized they were in Mrs. Thomas’s driveway parked next to what must be Dan’s blue Prius. They probably had not seen Sam. With a quick glance, she assessed that both people were decidedly nondescript, average heights, normal weights, and in late to middle age. Their car was unremarkable as well, some kind of dark green sedan. Sam quickly bent back over and finished pushing all her stuff into her purse.

“I just don’t know why we need to be over here today of all days,” Sam heard. It was a feminine voice. The male voice responded in a tone too low for Sam to catch. Then the female voice said in an almost whiny way, “We always have to listen to …” The voice dropped off and, again, the male voice was too low to hear.

Sam stayed ducked down. Great, now this was totally embarrassing. If she popped up at this point and started the car, the couple would know she had heard their quarrel. If she did not leave, when Mrs. Thomas opened the door for them she might see Sam’s car and wonder where she was or think she was spying, which she really actually was doing at this point.

Sam grimaced at her predicament and remained where she was. She heard the screen door open and then slam shut. Sam carefully sat up and gazed back over her right shoulder at the house. Not seeing any movement, she turned back forward, put the key in the ignition and started the car. It seemed so noisy! She looked over her shoulder for other traffic and pulled away from the curb. As she glanced into her rearview mirror, she thought she saw Mrs. Thomas’s kitchen door shutting, although, maybe not.

“H
i, I’m home!” Sam called out as she set her purse and keys down on the credenza in the entryway of her house.
Ahhh
, the air-conditioning felt so nice
.
Maybe if Doug and Lindsey were playing together, she would have time for a shower. She looked around and smiled, as she really did adore her house. To her right were the stairs going up to four bedrooms and two bathrooms. They had bought the place shortly after getting married, fully expecting to fill all the bedrooms with children. Unfortunately, Lindsey had been ‘colicky’ and Doug went nearly crazy with all the crying, which occasionally lasted for hours. He had put off having another kid for as long as he could, and then he told Sam that he had changed his mind about additional children. Negotiating that difficulty had been the greatest strain on Sam and Doug’s marriage. They had come out of it okay, deciding that when Lindsey was older they would consider foster care or adopting an older child. Now that Lindsey was entering first grade in the fall, Sam had brought up the topic several times, but Doug was always too busy or did not think the timing was right.

Overall, though, Doug was a dependable father. He played with Lindsey on the weekends and always listened attentively about her progress in school and with athletics. He certainly did his share of the disciplining. It was just … he just did not seem to really enjoy his kid. It seemed like more of an obligation sometimes, like it was part of how he saw himself. He was Doug Sherman, family man. Sam knew she was being overly harsh towards Doug. After all, he worked a lot and traveled so he did not have a lot of extra time.

Sam listened for a response to her shouted greeting and then continued down the hall towards the kitchen. Maybe they were in the basement. As she went by the hall mirror, she paused. How bad was the damage from being out in that sweltering heat
?
She studied herself in the mirror. Not too terrible for being a thirty-something. She smiled at her own joke, revealing a row of even, white teeth. She moved closer to the mirror and examined her eyes which now crinkled at the corners when she smiled. Actually, they were a little crinkled even when she stopped smiling. Still, her face remained otherwise attractive and without unwanted lines. She had an oval face with small green eyes and long dark lashes. Her hair, which hung just past her shoulders, was a sandy blond color. She had her hair stylist cut some layers in it so that when her hair was down, it had a bit of style. Her face was flushed nicely from the heat and she had little wisps of hair that had fallen out of her hair band now framing her face. Let’s see, she thought, no smudges from eye makeup and the skin is not glistening too badly. Overall, not hideous, she concluded.

Embarrassed at how long she had been assessing her appearance, she quickly called out again, “Doug, Lindsey?” Still, there was no answer. She continued into the kitchen and eyed the table. There it was, a note. Doug was so reliable. The note read:

Sam, we went to the pool. We’ll be back around three-ish. Please come join us or just enjoy! Love Doug.

YES! Sometimes he was just too terrific. She set her purse down and stretched her arms ups. Let’s see, shower and reading? Shower and catch up on e-mail? Shower and a nap? There was nothing like having endless options.

Overjoyed at having extra time, Sam raced up the stairs and took a long cool shower. She changed into a comfortable pair of cotton/polyester shorts and a loose top. She brushed out her hair and reached for her dryer, but then set it back down, deciding instead to stay cool. She braided her hair into a single French braid, not very sophisticated but out of the way. She left her face free of makeup. It was funny but at five foot six inches with her face scrubbed clean, casual clothes, her hair pulled back, and with her weight at her pre-baby amount (which had taken two entire years to accomplish), she could still look like a college student. Well, she thought, maybe a graduate student.

Feeling refreshed and comfortable, she now decided to call her sister to catch up. Mary-Beth lived ten minutes away, as did Sam’s parents. Mary-Beth had met her husband while they both were attending the University of Virginia. She was currently a stay-at-home-mom to a set of twin boys who were Lindsey’s age, and a toddler, who was still in diapers. Sam was anxious to share her adventure at Mrs. Thomas’s house.

When they finished their conversation, Sam hung up, grabbed her book, a history of the west, and walked out of her bedroom towards the stairs and the living room. She halted in front of the study when she remembered something odd from her time with Mrs. Thomas. “Chicago,” she said out loud.

Sam never threw out a single book that she bought, and as a result of being primarily self-educated, she had books crammed into every shelf of their study with the overflow on shelves she had installed in the closet. She went over to her history books and scanned down.
I should someday alphabetize what I have … someday
, she was thinking when she spied the title she searched for. There it was:
The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America
by Erik Larson. It was a terrific story about the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893. She settled back into her cushiony leather chair and opened the cover.
Hmmm …
probably in the beginning. Let’s see, here it is … talking about the potential failure of the fair. She read:

Failure would bring humiliation from which the city would not soon recover, given how heartily its leading men had boasted that Chicago would prevail. It was this big talk, not the persistent southwesterly breeze that had prompted New York editor Charles Anderson Dana to nickname Chicago “the Windy City.”

Interesting she thought, that she should remember something like that. Odd that Mrs. Thomas’s friend did not know this detail if he was a
lifer
and a history teacher in the Windy City. Maybe it was one of those common misperceptions, Sam thought. Okay, on to the next thing, nap or reading?

Reading, of course. Sam loved to read. While she did have an associate degree that she got through correspondence courses in the Coast Guard, she had never taken classes on a real college campus and therefore always thought of herself as more self-taught than ‘schooled.’ Since getting her associate degree, she had kept up her education informally and somewhat haphazardly. She did not have an organized plan, but rather on discovering an area where she was weak or a subject that interested her, she would pick up a book on the topic.

Sam enjoyed what she was currently reading in the living room until she heard the key in the lock. She smiled. After her nice break, she felt energized and ready to see her family. Lindsey came bursting through the door first. She was still dripping from the pool. Doug caught her as she lunged towards Sam to hug her. Laughing, he said, “Hold-up, kiddo, you’re soaking wet. How about you head upstairs and we’ll get you rinsed off and dried up first, then you can attack Mom.” He smiled over at Sam and she smiled back genuinely. He really was a good guy; despite … well … no, he was a good guy period. Lindsey ran upstairs and Sam started to get up to follow her.

“It’s fine, Sam; I have it. I know you’re going to be alone all week.”

Sam nodded and said, “Thanks. I feel so spoiled. I’m having such a nice relaxing afternoon.” They exchanged smiles again and Doug headed up the stairs, whistling as he went. What was that tune …? Sam stretched and returned to her book.

That night they went out to dinner. Afterwards, as they pulled into their driveway, Sam took stock and felt satisfied. It had been a fun-filled night and she’d had a wonderful time with her family. At moments like this, she felt really fortunate.

Sam stared up at Doug as they walked towards the house together. Doug was unquestionably a good-looking guy. He was a great height for her, about five foot ten inches and since he was so disciplined, he had maintained his lean college physique. His face, which was almost too pretty to be a guy’s face, was framed with thick, wavy blond hair. He could probably have had lots of girlfriends, but he had always been rather shy and solemn. He really did not smile or laugh a lot. Sam felt she had really accomplished something when she managed to make him laugh wholeheartedly.

“What are you thinking about, Sam?” Doug asked as they approached the house.

“I was thinking about you, about how cute you look, and what a good guy you are.”

“Well great,” he said seriously. “I’ll try not to spoil that before I leave for the week.”

They entered the house, and soon Doug was busily packing for his Monday trip. Meanwhile, Sam watched Lindsey get ready for bed, made sure she said her prayers, and then she read Lindsey’s favorite story to her. As she read to her daughter, Sam stroked Lindsey’s hair, which was a soft blond color. Lindsey had huge blue eyes, like her father, which really stood out on her face since she was a little small for her age. Her skin was also like her father’s, it had a beautiful honey hue. She had Sam’s nose and face shape.

Sam sensed Lindsey fading and said, “All right, time for bed.”

“
Awww,
Mom. One more chapter?” Lindsey pleaded, but Sam could see she was tired.

“No, you need your rest. You have a big day tomorrow. Remember you have your gymnastics camp this week.” Lindsey was starting a one week camp the next morning.

“Oh right, that’s going to be so fun. Do you think any of the kids from my class will be there?”

Sam smiled. Lindsey always got a little anxious before going into an unfamiliar social setting. Her shyness would show.

“Remember your friend Chandra from school will be there? You’re going to have such a good time with her. Okay, I’ll send in Dad to say good night. Sleep well.”

Sam turned off the lights and let Doug know it was time to say good night. She changed and got ready for bed. She could see from the closed suitcase that Doug had finished packing.

Sam curled up on the bed and waited for Doug. When he came back to their bedroom, she said quietly, “What a nice day. Thanks for taking Lindsey to the pool.”

Doug kicked off his shoes and laid down half on Sam and half on the bed. “No problem.” He had a faint smile on his face, and he began to rub Sam’s arm. With the mutual self-awareness of those who have been married for several years, they began to kiss and eventually had sex.

Afterwards they relaxed, still intertwined on the bed. They discussed Doug’s departure and when he would return. He would drive himself to Dulles Airport since it was such an early flight and park in long-term parking. He would be back home Friday night if everything went well. Sam told Doug about her visit with Mrs. Thomas. She hesitated to tell him about the Windy City comment and Mrs. Thomas’s weird behavior, but in her relaxed state she went ahead.

Sam could feel Doug stiffen beside her as she talked. “Sam, that doesn’t mean anything,” he finally said.

“I’m not saying it does mean anything. I just think it’s interesting,” she said calmly but immediately felt defensive. Doug always pointed out when she was gossipy or nosy. She felt apprehensive but tried to explain herself again, “I’m not saying there is something wrong there I’m just saying that it’s weird that this guy has lived in Chicago for so long and is a history teacher, yet he doesn’t know why it’s called the Windy City. Oh, and I saw Mrs. Thomas’s photo album. You know, the one she always has to have with her …”

“You snooped in her photo album?” interrupted Doug. “Sam, that is none of your business. Don’t you have enough stuff going on in your own life?”

Sam was flustered now. “Well, I didn’t open her photo album. It fell and I was helping her. Forget it. I wasn’t being nosy.”