The Unkindest Cut Read Free Page B

very much on the plump side, but she was fairly active and not in great danger of becoming too plump.
    ‘‘Your food is simply too hard to resist,’’ Sophie said, leaning forward, her elbows on the table on either side of her plate. ‘‘I really have to fight with myself not to gobble up everything in sight when I’m at your house.’’ She giggled. ‘‘Otherwise I’d have to live on my treadmill.’’
    Paula sighed heavily. ‘‘I do have to live on mine,’’ she said. ‘‘Because I have absolutely no willpower where food is concerned. I can look at a slice of cheesecake, and I feel like I’ve suddenly gained five pounds.’’
    ‘‘I know how you feel,’’ I said. I tried to give Paula a friendly smile. ‘‘I have the same problem. I love good food, and with Marylou living next door to me, there’s always something wonderful to try. Marylou spoils us terribly.’’
    ‘‘I wish someone would spoil me,’’ Paula said. ‘‘Basil used to, but then I screwed that up royally.’’ Her mouth twisted in a bitter grimace.
    ‘‘Who’s Basil?’’ Sophie asked.
    ‘‘Basil Dumont,’’ Paula said, and Sophie’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘‘My first husband.’’
    I tilted my head sideways a bit, watching Sophie. Seeing my gesture, she answered. ‘‘Basil Dumont is pretty well-known in bridge circles, but he’s not really in Avery Trowbridge’s league. Avery’s kind of a bridge superstar.’’
    ‘‘Oh, I see,’’ I said. Paula evidently moved in an exalted social sphere, at least as far as the bridge world was concerned.
    ‘‘If I had known then what I know now,’’ Paula said with a heavy sigh, ‘‘I can tell you I sure wouldn’t have left Basil for Avery. No matter how good Avery is in bed, it’s just not worth it. Basil took care of me.’’
    Maybe Paula had turned into this bitter, sad person after her second marriage, I thought, trying to be charitable. Otherwise, I was having a really hard time imagining either of her husbands wanting to stay married to her.
    ‘‘Now, dear,’’ Marylou said while carrying a tureen of soup to the table. She began ladling a fragrant tomato-basil concoction into our soup bowls. ‘‘It doesn’t do much good to look backward. You’ve made your bed, so to speak, and you need to resign yourself to that.’’
    ‘‘The soup smells wonderful,’’ I said, and the words were hardly out of my mouth before Paula started speaking.
    ‘‘But that’s where you’re wrong, Marylou,’’ Paula said. ‘‘I can go back, and I have to. If I don’t, I know I’ll go right out of my mind.’’
    I caught Sophie rolling her eyes, and I could hear the words as clearly as if she had spoken them aloud. That train’s already left the station, honey.
    I tried not to react and choke on the delicious soup I had just spooned into my mouth. Swallowing hastily, I reached for my napkin to wipe my lips.
    Marylou came back to the table and sat down. Picking up her spoon, she regarded Paula. ‘‘Now, what on earth do you mean by that, Paula? How can you go back?’’
    Paula’s self-satisfied smile lit up her face. ‘‘Because Basil wants me back, that’s how. He still loves me—I know he does—and all I have to do is get Avery to agree to a divorce.’’
    ‘‘Basil has actually told you this?’’ Marylou asked, while Sophie and I looked back and forth at her and Paula like spectators at Wimbledon.
    Paula shrugged. ‘‘Well, not in so many words.’’ The light in her face had dimmed for a moment, but now it came blazing back. ‘‘But I know him so well, you see, and I can tell what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say the words straight out. He wants me back. I know he does.’’
    It seemed not to matter what anyone else thought. Paula had evidently convinced herself, and even Marylou’s obvious skepticism didn’t deflate her.
    ‘‘My goodness,’’ Marylou said as she jumped up from her chair. ‘‘I forgot the tea.’’