Wife 22
If you like Modern Family, you’ll love thisMaybe it was because I was about to turn the same age my mother was when I lost her. Maybe it was because my husband and I were running out of things to say to each other.But when the online study called “Marriage in the 21st Century” showed up in my inbox, I had no idea it would change my life. It wasn’t long before I was assigned both a pseudonym (Wife 22) and a caseworker (Researcher 101).And, just like that, I found myself answering questions.Before the study, I was Alice Buckle: wife and mother, drama teacher and Facebook chatter, downloader of memories and Googler of solutions.But these days, I’m also Wife 22. And somehow, my correspondence with Researcher 101 has taken an unexpectedly personal turn. Soon, I’ll have to make a decision—one that will affect my family, my marriage, my whole life. But at the moment, I’m too busy answering questions.As it turns out, confession can be a very powerful aphrodisiac.
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MELANIE GIDEON
Wife 22
Copyright
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishers 2012
Copyright © Melanie Gideon 2012
Melanie Gideon asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Ebook Edition © June 2012 ISBN: 9780007425495
Version: 2016-12-12
Dedication
For BHR—HUSBAND 1
Epigraph
“Only connect.”
—E. M. FORSTER
Contents
1
April 29
5:05 P.M.
GOOGLE SEARCH “Eyelid Drooping”
About 54,300 results (.14 seconds)
Eyelid Drooping: MedlinePlus Medical Encyclopedia
Eyelid drooping is excessive sagging of the upper eyelid … Eyelid drooping can make somebody appear sleepy or tired.
Eyelid Drooping … Natural Alternatives
Speak from the chin-up position. Try not to furrow your brow, as this will only compound your problems …
Droopy Dog … eyelid drooping
American cartoon character … drooping eyelids. Last name McPoodle. Catchphrase … “You know what? That makes me mad.”
2
I stare into the bathroom mirror and wonder why nobody has told me my left eyelid has grown a little hood. For a long time I looked younger than I was. And now, suddenly all the years have pooled up and I look my age—forty-four, possibly older. I lift the excess skin with my finger and waggle it about. Is there some cream I can buy? How about some eyelid pushups?
“What’s wrong with your eye?”
Peter pokes his head into the bathroom and despite my irritation at being spied on, I am happy to see my son’s freckled face. At twelve, his needs are still small and easily fulfilled: Eggos and Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs—the ones with the cotton waistband.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I say.
I depend on Peter. We’re close, especially in matters of grooming. We have a deal. His responsibility is my hair. He’ll tell me when my roots are showing so I can book an appointment with Lisa, my hairdresser. And in return, my responsibility is his odor. To make sure he doesn’t exude one. For some reason, twelve-year-old boys can’t smell their underarm funk. He does run-bys in the mornings, arm raised, waving a pit at me so I can get a whiff. “Shower,” I almost always say. On rare occasions I lie and say “you’re fine.” A boy should smell like a boy.
“Tell you what?”
“About my left eyelid.”
“What—that it hangs down over your eye?”
I groan.
“Only a tiny bit.”
I look in the mirror again. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me Peter was slang for penis?”
“It is not.”
“Yes, apparently it is. A peter and two balls?”
“I swear to you I have never heard that expression before.”
“Well, now you understand why I’m changing my name to Pedro.”
“What happened to Frost?”
“That was in February. When we were doing that unit on Robert Frost.”
“So now the road has diverged and you want to be Pedro?” I ask.
Middle school, I’ve been told, is all about experimenting with identity. It’s our job as parents to let our kids try on different personas, but it’s getting hard to keep up. Frost one day, Pedro the next. Thank God Peter is not an EMO, or is it IMO? I have no idea what EMO/IMO stands for—as far as I can tell it’s a subset of Goth, a tough kid who dyes his hair black and wears eyeliner, and no, that is not Peter. Peter is a romantic.
