The Last Original Wife by Dorothea Benton Frank Read Free Book Online Page A

moment to speak up and defend her own honor. She had to know it would become the Most Talked About and Exaggerated Moment in the History of the Club—well, for 2011 anyway. And why take someone on—especially your husband—in a public place when you know in your heart it could get really ugly? But she’d had just enough champagne to take the chance that a sassy reprimand would put an end to whatever foolishness he was engaged in.
    â€œYou know, Harold,” she said loudly enough for all of us to hear, “you can’t have me and your little floozy too. You have to choose.”
    Harold cleared his throat, which we suddenly recognized as a harbinger of doom.
    â€œRight now? Here?” he said.
    â€œYes. Right now and right here,” she said.
    Without missing a beat he said, “Wes? Would you drive Danette home? I have to go and meet someone.”
    I couldn’t believe it. None of us could. But Harold stood and left, the orchestra started playing “Auld Lang Syne,” and Danette dissolved into tears. Wes, in a gallant demonstration of southern gentlemanly manners, moved from his seat next to hers and handed her his perfectly pressed linen handkerchief to dry her tears.
    â€œCome on, sweetheart,” he said. “Les and I will take you home.”
    There have been many moments when I’ve wanted to kill my husband. This was not one of them. Wes could be a really great guy when he recognized the moment that called for it.
    That same night, and perhaps at the same moment, somewhere across town in a romantic restaurant a promising young physician named Shawn Nicholls slipped a two-carat diamond on Harold and Danette’s only child Molly’s finger and asked her to be his wife. When Shawn brought Molly home, they found us at the kitchen table. I had never seen Molly happier in her whole life, and her young man, Shawn, was just beaming. She didn’t even notice that her mother was a total wreck.
    â€œMom? We have something wonderful to tell you! Where’s Daddy?”
    â€œDad? He’s not here. Why don’t you just tell me?”
    â€œActually, Mrs. Stovall, I should have discussed this with you and Mr. Stovall some time ago . . .” Shawn said.
    â€œIs something wrong?” Molly said. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t Daddy here?”
    â€œYour father and I had a little disagreement, that’s all!” She put a smile on her face. “Now tell me! What’s going on?”
    On hearing the good news, Danette, being made of stronger and better stuff than her ridiculous husband, Harold, opened a bottle of champagne and began filling flutes.
    â€œHarold’s not going to ruin everything!” Danette whispered to me and dried her eyes again. “I’m so happy for you, darling!” She hugged Molly with all her might and then turned to Shawn. “We’ve waited all our lives for a wonderful young man like you to come along! Welcome to the family—such as we are.”
    Everyone laughed a little, and then she hugged him too. Happiness eclipsed Danette’s pain, and optimism ruled the balance of the evening.
    â€œLet me get a good look at that ring!” I said.
    It was the first of many important moments that Harold would miss. And it also marked the moment that Danette decided Harold Stovall would no longer have a place in her tender heart. Her daughter was getting married and that was all that mattered for the foreseeable future.
    The Little Floozy in question turned out to be Cornelia Street, the thirty-four-year-old buxom redhead who was the assistant to the director of human resources in Harold’s law firm. Cornelia, who had tried out for and lost at auditions for every reality show that ever crossed the Georgia state line, was, shall we say, known to be very ambitious and extremely generous with her favors. (Read: exhibitionist, social climbing, slut of the world.)
    Danette cleaned