Keeping Score
Emma searched Marilyn’s eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m asking as a friend.”
No good ever came from “friendly questions” that began with those words. “What is it?”
Emma took a breath. “Are you sure Rick isn’t cheating on you?”
Marilyn squelched the urge to toss Emma out onto the street. Emma was only looking out for her best interests. Wasn’t she? “I’m positive. Rick and I spend most of our free time together.”
Emma pursed her lips. “I know. Now that you’re married, I hardly ever see you.”
Marilyn blinked. Was that resentment in her friend’s voice? “So when would he have time to have an affair?”
Emma snorted. “Don’t be naive, Mary. With the hours you work, Rick’s home alone a lot of nights. He also travels a lot during the year and you never go with him.”
“I have—had—a job. Besides, I trust him.”
“You wouldn’t be the first wife of a professional athlete who trusted her husband only to have him make a fool of her.” Emma folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Would you like me to list the cheaters’ names alphabetically or by sport?”
Marilyn didn’t recognize the woman seated across the table. “Don’t judge my husband by the bad experiences you’ve had with men.”
A spark of anger lit Emma’s green eyes. “Sooner or later, they all break your heart.”
“Not Rick.”
“Yeah, I could tell from that photo in the Horn.”
Marilyn caught her breath. “That’s not funny, Em. That photograph was mortifying. It also cost me my job and my parents’ respect.”
Emma cocked her head. “What about the partnership? Have you heard from Janet or Dionne?”
Marilyn eased her throat with a sip of water. “They’ve declined my application.”
Emma sat back in her seat. “Your job, the partnership. This has gone too far. Why are you still with him?”
“If I allow the media to destroy my marriage, I would be letting it go too far.” The media, her boss, her mother. Should she now add her friend to the list of outside forces trying to come between her and Warrick?
The disappointment in Emma’s eyes reminded Marilyn of her mother. “When we were in college, you said you didn’t want to be thought of as the Devrys’ daughter.”
Marilyn nodded. “That’s right. I wanted my own identity.”
Emma crossed her arms and legs. “Instead of marrying a doctor as your mother wanted, you moved three thousand miles away and became a doctor.”
“That’s what I wanted to do.” What was Emma
’s point?
“Then almost as soon as you got your medical license, you married an NBA superstar and became Mrs. Warrick Evans.”
“It’s Dr. Marilyn Devry-Evans.” Marilyn stood and crossed to the sink. She wanted distance between herself and Emma. Was the width of the kitchen enough?
“You gave up your identity.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He cost you your job.”
She spun back to face her friend. “Arthur cost me my job.”
“Why do you always defend him?”