Susan Mallery - Wife in Disguise

Everything about her was different. The long, wavy hair, the different facial features. She wore makeup and dresses. He wasn’t sure there was anything of the old Josie left. Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted there to be. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d liked the new Josie very much. Maybe too much.

“This is pretty confusing,” he said into the silence. “I don’t know what to think.”

“I’ll bet. There are times when I look in the mirror and give myself a fright. And I’ve had months to get used to what I look like. You’ve only had a few hours.” She pleated the sheets between her fingers. “I really didn’t plan on keeping it a secret, Del. That just happened. I’m not saying it was right, but I didn’t do it out of malice.”

“I know.”

Despite his earlier accusations, he knew that she wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to trick him. Josie was many things, but she wasn’t subtle. When she wanted something, she went after it with all the energy at her disposal. When she had a problem with a person, she confronted that person directly.

“I thought you would recognize me,” she continued, then glanced at him from under her lashes. “Annie May did.”

He groaned. “Great. And she didn’t say a word.”

“I asked her not to. Besides, she just saw me this morning. She might have decided to come clean.”

“Maybe.”

But he doubted it. Josie and Annie May had always been close.

“I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me,” she whispered. “I can stand anything but that.”

Without stopping to consider his actions, he moved closer to the bed. “I could never pity you, Josie. You’re way too tough for that.”

“I’m not very tough right now.”

He wasn’t going to agree with her, even if it was true. Instead he reached up and touched her long hair. “You let it grow. I never knew you had waves. I like it.”

“Thanks. I didn’t know about the waves, either. I always wore my hair really short. After the accident, getting it cut was the least of my problems and suddenly it was long.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “On days when I can’t move around much, fixing my hair gives me something to do. When I’m feeling strong, I can get it out of the way by putting it back in a ponytail, so it works.”

Josie was tall and strong and vibrantly alive. At least she used to be. He couldn’t reconcile that image with the pale woman sitting in the hospital bed. Two IV lines dripped into her arm. She was wearing a hospital gown. His Josie? Never.

“What about the other changes?” he asked. “You wear dresses now instead of jeans. Except on your walk last Saturday. Then you wore sweats.”

She sighed. “Jeans are too hard. Most days my legs don’t work that well. There’s a lot of pain from the surgeries. It’s just easier to pull a dress over my head and go.”

“I’m sorry for the reason, but I like you in dresses. You’re very pretty and feminine in them.”

“Not at all like the old me, huh? No wonder you didn’t recognize me.”

No wonder at all, he thought. She couldn’t run anymore or play basketball. “Are you working?” Last he’d heard she’d been a PE teacher and coach at a private girls’ high school in Los Angeles.

“Not since the accident. Eventually I’m going to have to do something but right now I’m not sure what.”

He stared at her, at the changes. “I can’t believe this is really you.”

She gave him a bright smile that was as fake as plastic wood. “It’s amazing what a close encounter with a big truck will do,” she said brightly. “You should have seen me the first couple of months. My face and most of the left side of my body was either bandaged or covered with a cast. I looked like mummy woman for what felt like weeks. There were braces and therapy sessions, surgeries, months in rehab. You name it, I did it. You remember my stepsister, Dallas?”

He nodded.

“She and I shared an apartment together in West Los Angeles. She’s a grad student at UCLA. The timing turned out to be terrific. I had a few weeks at home in between surgeries which coincided with her summer break. By the time she had to return to school, I was back in the hospital.”

He believed everything she was saying and yet it was like listening to someone talk about a movie they’d seen. No real person could have gone through this and survived. “And it’s really been a year?”

She nodded. “It was a year last month.”

He should have known, he thought suddenly. He should have sensed something was wrong with Josie. “I wish you’d had someone get in touch with me.”

Her blue gaze met his with a directness he remembered. “Why? What difference would it have made?”

“I would have come to be with you. Or does your family dislike me so much that they didn’t want me there?”

“They like you just fine. The reason they didn’t contact you was that I told them not to. We’d been divorced for two years.”

“But-”

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “Would you have let me know if the situation had been reversed? Would you have wanted me with you?”

“That’s different.”

“That’s also your way of saying no.”

“But I’m not the point. You are. Your not getting in touch with me had nothing to do with the divorce. You would have hated needing me. That’s why you couldn’t do it. You never wanted to need anyone.”

He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. Josie’s independent streak had been something he’d admired at the beginning of the marriage, but by the end, he’d grown to hate it. She would rather have eaten glass than admit she needed anyone for anything.

“Maybe once,” she admitted. “But not anymore. The last year has taught me that I do need people and I’m going to need them for the rest of my life. There were days when I couldn’t even feed myself. Believe me, I learned all about being dependent then.”

“That’s different.”

“I don’t think it is. For a long time I thought I was strong because I was physically capable, but I’ve learned that being strong is about will and determination. I could have given up, but I didn’t-no matter how much the odds were against me or how much it hurt. I experienced the worst it could be and I survived.”

“I’m not questioning your strength.” He straightened, shifting the chair back a little. “You’ve always been stubborn.”

She shook her head. “I’m different, Del. You have to know that. If I’d been the same you wouldn’t have been interested in getting to know Rose.”

“How much of Rose was real and how much of it was a game?” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. “You were playing with me.”

“No. It was all very real.”

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to know that she was different, which was crazy because he wasn’t interested in reigniting the flame with his ex-wife.

“I need some time to think about this,” he said, standing, “and you need some rest.”

She tilted her head as she looked up at him. “It’s strange. For the first time since I’ve known you, you’re the one walking away, not me.”

“I guess I’ve changed, too. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Do you want me to call your folks and let them know you’re in the hospital?”

“No. I’m only going to be here a couple of days. I don’t want anyone worrying.”

More than likely she didn’t want them hanging around. As he’d said before-Josie hated needing anyone. Then, because he didn’t know what else to say, he turned on his heel and left.

Nothing made sense, Del thought as he headed down the hospital corridor. Rose, Josie…which one was real? How could his ex-wife be so different? “Intellectually he knew about the accident and the surgeries, but in his heart, he didn’t believe it. She couldn’t have gone through all that and survived. And having survived, he doubted she could have changed all that much. She might look physically different, but on the inside, where it mattered, he would bet she was exactly the same.

“Mr. Scott?”

He’d almost reached the elevator when he heard someone calling his name. He turned and saw a short woman with dark hair and glasses. She wore a white coat and had a patient chart in her hands.

“I’m Del Scott,” he said.

“I thought you might be.” The woman gave him a smile, then held out her free hand. “I’m Dr. Sanders. I’ve examined Josie and will be taking care of her while she’s here in the hospital.”

Dr. Sanders looked to be in her mid-forties. She was pretty, in a capable-looking way, with blue-gray eyes and a steady gaze that seemed to see down to his soul.

After they shook hands, she gestured to a small empty office just off the main corridor. “Do you have a minute? I need to clear up a few things.”

“Sure.”

He followed her into the consulting room and took the visitor’s chair, leaving the seat behind the metal desk for her. When she was seated, she studied the top sheet on the chart, then turned her attention to him.

“I’ve spoken with Josie. I have a summary of her procedures over the past year. According to her, she’s divorced. You two share the same last name. Am I correct in assuming you’re her ex-husband?”

He nodded, not sure what this had to do with anything.

“I see. Well, that lets you off the hook, doesn’t it.”

What was she talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“Ms. Scott hasn’t been taking care of herself as well as she should. Her stay here is the result of that. She will require some specific care when she leaves us, but if you’re not married, it’s not your problem.”

She was right. Josie wasn’t his problem. She hadn’t been for years. Basically the doctor was telling him it was all right to walk away. To forget this ever happened. Del sucked in a deep breath. Except it wasn’t going to be that easy. Not that he should be surprised. Nothing with Josie was ever easy.

“She came back to town a few weeks ago,” he said. “She bought a house and I’m remodeling it for her. So we’ve been spending a lot of time in each other’s company.”

He was deliberately making it sound as if they were considering a reconciliation. Which was crazy. He didn’t want anything more to do with her. But he also knew he couldn’t just walk away and forget what had happened. Somehow, without him being aware of how or when or anything, his ex-wife had reentered his life. She’d caught his attention in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible, pretending to be someone else. And he’d never even come close to guessing the truth. The only hint had been that when he was around her, he couldn’t stop thinking about Josie.

“So you’re considering a reconciliation?” the doctor asked.

“We haven’t gotten that far,” he said, not willing to outright lie. “But we do have a history, and I’m concerned about her. I don’t know all the details of her accident and recovery. I know it’s been grueling.”

“Does Ms. Scott have other family in the area?”

“No. Her folks live in Texas. She has a brother up in Seattle and a stepsister in Los Angeles. I’m the only one in town.”

Dr. Sanders tapped her pen against the chart. “This makes things more difficult.”

“Why?”

She leaned forward, her gaze direct. “Your ex-wife has let a few things slide. For some patients, that’s fine, but for her, in her stage of recovery, it was a mistake. She hasn’t been getting enough rest, which interferes with the body’s ability to heal. In addition to being dehydrated, she has a low-grade infection. Due to her lack of physical therapy, her muscles are weakening. Unfortunately, she’s about to pay for her personal neglect. She’s going to have to spend the next few weeks in a wheelchair. She will be allowed to stand on her own for short periods of time so she can shower without assistance, but other than that, she’s to be sitting or lying down. In addition, she can’t drive until I’ve cleared her.”

Del heard the words but he didn’t believe them. A wheelchair? Josie? She would hate that. Anyone would. The restrictions on her life, the dependency.

“You look shocked,” Dr. Sanders said.

“I am. Stunned.”

An odd expression crossed the woman’s face. “Mr. Scott, this isn’t the first time your ex-wife has been in a wheelchair. According to her medical history, she’s only been able to use a cane full-time for about two months.”

Was that possible? Had Josie really been so disabled for so long? He’d heard her talk about her surgeries and the recoveries, but he hadn’t understood it before.

“You said you were remodeling a house for Ms. Scott. Is it going to be compatible with the change in her condition?”

A wheelchair at the old Miller place? He pictured the empty rooms and all the construction equipment and supplies. He thought about the drop cloths on the floors and the fact that the only bedroom was upstairs.