Disillusioned by Cari Moore Read Free Book Online Page B

proved the same for
Tessa, but most of the time, he just wanted to solve her problems
and set her neatly on the shelf so he could go back to subjects
that offered him more prospects of fulfillment. Tessa hated feeling
like an afterthought, but she was an adult; she could take care of
herself. Would he treat their children the same? She had no way to
know. For now, he seemed all attentive to them, even while
neglectful of her. Perhaps he would continue the duality of thought
into their older years. Tessa could only hope.
    Despite her best efforts, Tessa could
not expel the hollow ache that settled in her chest as she
considered the change in Merritt. He had been her best friend – she
had grown up with him – yet, now he felt like a stranger. For every
positive experience with him, Tessa could recall several painful
ones. Now that life had overshadowed love, Tessa's good memories
crashed under the weight of too many unresolved
conflicts.
    So much stupid
emotion, she reprimanded herself. Tessa
despised feeling subject to emotion, because she could never quite
maintain control of herself the way she knew she needed to. Could
stirring up her displeasure with Merritt accomplish any good? No.
Would she actually act on any of her feelings? Never. Recognizing
the futility of her thoughts, Tessa
slammed her emotions down into the ever-growing pit in her stomach.
She determined to quit feeling sorry for herself; otherwise, she
would never keep up the charade of civility for the rest of the
night.
    As the thumping of a new song brought her
fully back to the present, Tessa forced herself to rise from her
seat and to begin full on mingling with the crowd. She vowed to be
a good girl, and not to verbalize the many controversial thoughts
that might spring into her mind.
    The weather and fashion are
safe, she prepared herself. Politics, religion, and kids are off
limits. When she had skirted the large
refreshment tables, Tessa aimed for a nearby doorway through which
she spied several groups playing intensely at cards. Delighted,
Tessa breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the games would
provide distraction for her troubled mind. Not only that, but the
activity would remove much of the expectation for small talk. She
peered down at the queen of spades that a young man laid down on a
table, curious whether the hidden card would unveil a
blackjack.
    When she heard the voice from behind her, her
interest in the card game evaporated, and her anticipation of
respite crashed back to earth. Such a voice calling Tessa's name
turned her heart to a leaden lump in her chest.
    Why, God? Tessa lamented. Why did
it have to be her when I'm trying so hard to be good?
    “Tessa, dear, would you mind?” came the
condescending tone. “My friends and I are deep in the most
controversial discussion, and we know how you love controversial
discussions.”
    “Karen Whitfield,” Tessa plastered on a smile
as she turned toward the voice. “How are you?”
    The only discussion Karen wanted with Tessa
was the one that would land Tessa squarely into trouble. Rare were
the meetings between them when Tessa managed to hold her
tongue.
    Karen's favorite soap box involved her
attempt to wrench all women into the new century, whether they
agreed with Karen or not. To do this, she sought to reform all the
poor, backwards women who chose to eschew a career in order to keep
a home, take care of their husbands, and raise children, and to
drag them kicking and screaming into sophistication. To Karen,
traditional mores emanated from a dark time when women had no
rights and male oppression raged rampant. As such, she felt it her
duty to single-handedly reform womankind and ensure that her
enlightened planet would never return to that infamous era.
Somehow, she seemed to feel that Tessa's existence threatened her
stated goal.
    “We were just discussing one of your favorite
topics,” Karen oozed slyly. “I mean, motherhood certainly seems to
possess the entirety of your