Read Online The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom by Robyn Harding - Free Book Online

Paul had predicted, I had a
throbbing headache, plus a swollen ankle, and painful carpet burn on my knees
and forearms. Mercifully, he let me sleep late, coming in to check on me at ten
o’clock.
    “How are you?” He asked, from the doorway.
    “Not good,” I mumbled. It was true. I certainly wasn’t
feeling very healthy, but I was also incredibly sheepish. Lately, every time I
tried to have sex with my husband, I humiliated myself. That was hard on my
self-esteem, not to mention our marriage.
    “I’m taking the kids swimming,” Paul said. “You rest. Keep
your ankle elevated. And you might want to put some vitamin E on your chin.”
    “My chin?” I sat up.
    “Carpet burn.”
    I turned to look in my dresser mirror. Sure enough, my chin
looked like a lump of raw hamburger. I flopped back onto my pillow.
    “See ya later,” Paul said, as he turned to go.
    “See ya,” I mumbled.
    “Oh…” He turned back toward me. “Karen phoned. She wants you
to call her as soon as you’re up.”
    “Okay.”
    But I couldn’t call her. I was embarrassed by my behavior
the night before, and I wasn’t in the mood for a reprimand from my friend. She
had a right to be angry with me; I’d acted like a complete jackass. While I may
not have said anything about her affair outright, I had probably raised Doug’s
suspicions. Hopefully, he would just think I was a drunken, babbling idiot. I
may as well face it: Karen should never have entrusted her secret to me. I
wasn’t going to tell anyone, but I wasn’t exactly handling the knowledge with a
lot of grace. I acted different around her now—at least when others were
present. I couldn’t even spend one evening with her and her husband without
getting completely shit-faced. And probably worst of all, I couldn’t get her
affair out of my head. It was consuming me, turning me into a sex maniac—a sex
maniac who couldn’t get any action. I felt more dejected than ever.
    By Monday, I was physically improved, but my mind-set was
the same. I still hadn’t spoken to Karen. I just couldn’t face her. I honestly
could not handle listening to her gush on about the intensity of her feelings
for Javier, their passion, their connection, their word-transcending love. Nor
could I stand to hear her moan about how conflicted she was between the two men
who loved her and craved her and couldn’t get enough of her. Maybe I wasn’t
being a supportive friend, but I had my own sanity to consider.
    I spent most of the day moping. There was
no other word for it: shuffling around the big, empty house in my fuzzy
slippers and an old pair of track pants, my chin slathered in vitamin E cream.
The life makeover list sat unread, my inspiration to turn my life around, suddenly
gone. I couldn’t help but blame Karen. Hearing about her newfound passion and
zest for life had highlighted the blandness of my own existence. I didn’t want
to cheat on Paul; I loved him. But is that what it would take to shake me out
of these suburban-mom doldrums? I wanted something, needed something to
change in my life. The phone rang.
    “Hello?”
    “This is Marilyn Chow calling from the principal’s office at
Rosedale Elementary.”
    This was not what I had in mind. “Yes… hello.”
    “Mr. Dennison asked me to call. He’d like to discuss some
important issues with you, in person, and was wondering if you could come in
for a few minutes this afternoon?”
    The principal wanted to meet with me? In person? To discuss
important issues? Oh God! But somehow, I remained composed. “Certainly. I could
come in just before 3:00?”
    “Excellent. I’ll put you in his diary.”
    I cleared my throat. “And what might this be regarding?” As
if I didn’t know. Spencer had obviously informed his teacher about how much he
enjoyed touching his butt hole. Or possibly, that his fondest wish was to have
a diarrhea fountain in his front yard. On the other hand, this could be about
Chloe. Perhaps she had been sneaking miniscule