Christine’s voice warmed as she said the name.
“She’s a good friend?”
“Yes, she is.”
Remembering the shadows in Christine’s eyes, Will was glad to know that his reserved new English professor had a friend.
He was interested in speaking with this Dr. Phyllis Langford. She must be a very special person.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MARTHA TOOK the news of her husband’s infidelity far better than Becca would have. The two women were having coffee at the diner on Friday of the following week—the meeting place at Martha’s request—while they went over the list of kids who’d already signed up for theater in Save the Youth’s summer session. They were doing things a little backward, assigning parts before the script was written, but Martha wanted to make the parts fit the people who were playing them.
Some read well. Some didn’t. Some memorized well. Some didn’t. She could write the script accordingly. And the kids came away feeling good about themselves and their abilities.
“Mother gave her Montford report to Betty during lunch on Wednesday,” Becca told Martha. “She worked on the descendants, and her report was the last one. Betty said to tell you she’d have everything to you by Sunday.”
Martha nodded. “That gives me a couple of weeks before the kids are out of school and ready to—”
Mary Blount, the town librarian, stopped at their table, interrupting Martha. “I was so sorry to hear about you and Todd.”
“I know,” Martha said, her unlined face still youthful looking.
“What about you and the kids? Is there anything we can do?”
“We’ll be fine,” she said, smiling sadly, “but thanks.”
As Mary left—and other curious friends and acquaintances continued to send surreptitious glances their way—Martha didn’t fall apart. She didn’t shake with rage. She merely returned to the pages in front of her.
While Becca admired Martha’s stiff upper lip, she hurt for her, too. Martha didn’t deserve this.
Dressed in her usual jeans and blouse, her friend looked just as she had the million other times they’d met in town. Even after four kids, Martha still had a decent figure, wore her makeup tastefully, kept her short hair fashionably styled, although the color did tend to change every year or so.
“We can go somewhere else if you’d like,” Becca offered. “My house would be good. Will’s out—he’s meeting with the architect for the new building today.”
Martha shook her head. “I intend to stay right here and get this over with,” she said. “Besides, it actually kind of helps—knowing that everyone cares, I mean. I’ve never been more glad than I am right now that I live in Shelter Valley.” A tear lingered on Martha’s lashes before she brushed it away.
“I could kill Todd,” Becca said, burning up for her friend.
“It’s not all his fault.”
“How can you say that?”
Looking up, Martha didn’t blink as she said, “Twenty years with no magic is a really long time.”
Becca didn’t know what to say.
“I hate him for what he’s done, but I can almost understand how it happened,” Martha said. Becca’s heart went out to her anew as she met her friend’s devastated gaze.
“We got married for the wrong reasons,” Martha said softly, curling the corner of one of the pages in front of her. “We did it because it was what everyone, including us, expected. You know how Shelter Valley is—you grow up knowing that your ultimate goal is marriage and children.”
Becca nodded. It had taken her twenty years to grow out of that expectation. At least the children part of it.
“My marriage to Todd was convenient, you know?” Martha said. “You and Will were getting married. Todd and I were great friends. It was easy, the next step in our life plan. We sort of…fell into marriage.”
Becca’s nerves started to tense as she listened. Wasn’t this exactly what Will was telling her about their marriage?
“But I still can’t believe Todd did this,” Martha said, shaking her head again. “He’s humiliated me, has the whole town thinking I’m not enough of a woman to keep my man. It’s not fair to the kids.” She stopped, took a sip of her coffee in a rather obvious attempt to compose herself. “We were best friends. I trusted him.”