ONE

LESLIE

Champagne tasted like a mouth full of flavored acid. I didn’t get what the hype was all about.

I chugged down a mouthful either way, not even caring as a few drops slipped on my peach colored peplum dress.

It was the only presentable dress I had, and it would probably get ruined, but I didn’t really care.

I was drawing a few stares already, and to kill my embarrassment, I grabbed another glass from a passing waiter. “What a nice bow tie you have on Sir,” I whispered loudly at him, nodding with a smile, even though he merely nodded stiffly and walked away.

I threw my head back, and poured everything down my throat, coughing out a mouthful as my eyes watered.

“What are you all staring at?”  I shouted as the room full of elegantly dressed people hushed and turned to stare at me. “Have you never seen a drunk woman before?”

I suddenly felt like laughing. Life was one weird funny game. “Well I’ve seen lots of drunk people in my life,” I snapped as Rochelle, the only sincere person in the roomful of pretentious bastards grabbed my shoulders and started leading me out.

She was also my best friend, and the only person who understood why I was crashing out.

“What is wrong with you!”  She whispered loudly into my ear, but her voice felt like sand paper, grating my nerves.

I shrugged and raised my voice again one last time. “Better to be a drunk woman than someone who fantasizes everyday about having sex with their sibling.”

The gasp was audible and for once, I felt my lips curve up in a smile. I raised the empty champagne flute I had in my hand. “Here’s a toast to my loving husband, only he shouldn’t have married me, he should have just married Carla.”

I let the flute fall off my hand, shattering to the ground, and then firmer hands than Rochelle’s grabbed me.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted Jeffrey fidgeting in front of the room. He had a full glass in his hand, he had probably been about to give a toast.

Carla sat white faced, staring at the door like she wanted to bolt out of the room any second, her signature scarf looked like she’d had it on a little too tight. I almost felt sorry for her, maybe she was equal parts victim in all of this.

I was yanked outside, and Rochelle had to catch my weight as I almost stumbled to the ground.

I flipped the security man a finger, and turned to bury my face in my best friend’s shoulders to cry, but a voice interrupted me.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so hell bent on destroying our family?”

I turned slowly to face Chuck, Jeffrey’s younger brother. He had the bizarre delusion that his family was rich, and I was a gold digger, when in truth, his family was ambitious middle class at best who threw pretentious parties, with cheap champagne and acted like my husband’s company – which was almost bankrupt by the way – was some multi-million dollar enterprise.

“Ion know Chuck,” I fired back with a smirk.  “Does your family really need my help? I heard you all like to keep it in the family –”

A slap connected with my jaw before I could finish speaking, and my eyes watered as real pain cut through the haze of my drunkenness.

“How dare you?” I choked out, matching Chuck’s angry look with one of my own.

“No how dare you!”  He bit out. “How dare you suggest that my family is some kind of weirdo. For your information, Carla is not our biological sister, she was adopted when we were already teenagers –”

“And that makes this okay?” I asked. I felt sick to my stomach, and I was sure it had nothing to do with the champagne I had been chugging down earlier.

A vague expression passed over his features, then he straightened up. “Jeffrey has been struggling with finances lately – Homer Furniture had to file for bankruptcy last week. Now, Hanks, the branch manager of Helix is here, and we were hoping to land a deal furnishing their new office here in Minnesota –”

I shrugged. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Cause you blew it! Do you think Hanks would want a deal with a man who fantasizes about his sister and can’t control his wife?”

I frowned. The little pity I had for Jeffrey evaporated at the ‘control his wife comment.’

I rolled my eyes and turned to face Roch who was staring at me with her brows furrowed, and her nose upturned. Her disapproval stung.

“Whatever Chuck,” I said, dismissing him. “I’m done with your weird family anyway.”

Chuck stared like he was going to say something, then he turned and stormed off and I turned to face Rochelle.

I braced myself, waiting for her judgement, but then her face softener. She simply pulled me into her arms and held me while I cried at the corner of the building I had called home for two years now.

I and Jeffrey had been married for two years, we’d been trying so hard to have a child – or at least I thought he was trying, I had been all alone in my struggles.

Our marriage was not perfect, but I genuinely thought Jeffrey loved me. He remembered my birthday, our anniversary, knew what my favorite pizza flavor was, sang with me in the shower, even defended me from his obnoxious family.

I had thought my worries about our love life was all in my head, but then…

One man could not crave the arms of his foster sister and his wife at the same time? So each time I didn’t finish, each time there was that faraway look in his eyes as he lay on top me with minimal effort, I told myself I was the problem. Maybe I wasn’t fit enough, maybe I was too inexperienced maybe…

Of course, six foot tall Jeffrey with his sexy, deep voice was perfect in my eyes, if there was any problem, it had to be from me.

Then I caught him, the night before his pretentious little party today, in his office lounge with an actual paid escort.

I’d had no way of telling if the blond hair she had on was a wig or not, but she had definitely made up her face to look exactly like Carla. She was even wearing the exact replica of Carla’s signature scarf. Same thin body and full burst, same heart shaped face.

One look at Jeffrey’s face and it hit me. This was not about the escort, this was about his obsession with his foster sister. All this years I wondered if I was desirable, but how on earth could I compete with his own sister?

“You know we need to head over to my place,” Rochelle murmured, snapping me out of my sad reverie.

I stared up at her calm, perfect face. “Why are you not mad at me for causing a scene and embarrassing you?”

Rochelle frowned slightly. “Leslie you just got cheated on! With a hooker dressed to look like your sister in-law, of cause, your crash out is valid – now let’s go do it someplace quiet, away from the pretentious crowd.”

Later that evening, as I was combing out my hair, Jeffrey called. Rochelle was in the kitchen, making my comfort potato soup, and I almost didn’t pick.

Jeffrey sounded subdued. “Hi Leslie.”

“Hi,” I answered.

The tears came then. How on earth was I so far away from the love of my life, playing at phone civility, when he’d ripped out my heart and stumped on it.

“How are you?” He started, and the question was so absurd, I had to laugh.

He sighed. “For what it’s worth, I never meant to hurt you. I care about you, I really do –”

“You just don’t desire me, not the way you want Carla?”

He swallowed so audibly, I heard it over the phone. “You don’t understand. Carla has lived rent free in my head since I was a teenager and my Dad introduced her in that short pink skirt of hers. She’s just – she’s perfect. I knew she’d be put off by my advances, so I hired an escort to dress like her.”

I choked back a sob and he sighed. “For what it’s worth, Leslie, I’m sorry.”

“Ha!” If I wasn’t so broken, I’d have found the whole situation very funny. He’d been emotionally cheating on me with Carla, and physically with the escort.

“For how long has this been happening?” I asked at the same time he said “Chuck said I should ask for a divorce.”

“Chuck said I should ask for a divorce,” I repeated. “Do you even see how this sounds? Was Chuck there when you were fantasizing about your foster sister? Why bring him into this now?”

“You don’t understand Les,” Jeffrey snapped. “Carla is different, she’s – fragile, like a rose without it’s thorns.” His voice had taken on a dreamlike quality as he talked about her, then it went hard again. “The stunt you pulled today really affected her, she can’t – we can’t …. That is you can no longer be a part of this family –”

I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone before he could finish speaking. He hadn’t even complained about losing his chance to furnish Helix Co, instead he’d been so worried about his precious Carla, the so called fragile damsel that needed to be saved from the big bad wife.

“Are you okay?” Rochelle asked from the doorway, holding a bowl of steaming soup, and it was only then I realized I was crying.

“Jeffrey asked for a divorce,” I said through my tears.

“Good riddance then!” Rochelle didn’t skip a beat. “Les, those people are toxic. You’re better off without them.”