We All Fall Down

Chapter 8

Becky

"He really is a darling boy, Patrice," I cooed over John, his small fist curled around the dinosaur figurine I'd bought him for his first birthday. I was smitten by the little prince and even with my sweet little Eve, there was something so special about his precious smile and big brown eyes. Part of me wondered if I loved him so much because Patrice...well...she didn't. In the beginning, she seemed to make more of an effort but as the months went by, she became more and more detached. It was so odd and inappropriate to me to see her want to spend more time hovering over Eve than making sure he had a clean diaper. Or that he was fed.

John was such a good little baby too and clearly adored his mother. It was a shame how she would act as though he was pestering her, like his needs were a major inconvenience. Some days she seemed to try harder than others but something was off, and it made me quite uncomfortable. I definitely didn't want to invite her to my tea dates with the girls. What if she acted strangely in front of them? What would they think of me?

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you'd married someone else?" she mused, folding a load of clothes while I fed the children.

"What do you mean?" I knew exactly what she meant. The rumors had been circulating for a while now, but it was not my place to ask. In fact, I didn't really want her to talk to me about it at all.

"Like do you ever feel bored in your life with Ted? Crave someone more exciting, fun, better sex?" The corner of her mouth twitched up into a smirk that made me fight my own instinct to make the sign of the cross.

"Never!" I gasped. "I love Ted. I love our life." I was only partially lying. "Why? Are you unhappy with Rick?"

She stayed quiet, a dramatic stretch of silence between us as she contemplated whether or not to further this particular discussion. Crossing such a boundary was risky, a test to any friendship. Marie and Teresa had already tried getting any juicy bits from me when we've had our weekly tea sessions, but mums the word. I had become intrigued by Patrice and her husband who worshipped the ground she walked on, or danced on, or left piles of dirty clothes and dishes for weeks on end for one stretch of time, while cleaning with maddening focus for another.

"No. Not unhappy. Just bored," she shrugged as though it were entirely natural indeed to consider hopping into another man's bed citing boredom.

"So...have you?" I eyed her while keeping my expression neutral, non-judgmental. Friendly.

I'll never forget the look on her face as she turned toward me, dropping the onesie she was holding. Her cheeky smile as she arched an eyebrow. "I can't tell you all my secrets, Becky."

A slight chill ran down my spine as she hinted at being an adulteress. I am a Christian woman and it took a considerable amount of effort to befriend such a woman as Patrice. Especially after what happened at the supermarket. Boy, was that a doozy.

I wasn't there, but Teresa was picking up some mixers for her monthly Bingo night and saw the whole thing. Apparently, John wanted a sucker and started to cry. Instead of getting the poor boy the damn sucker, she went ballistic. As if she was the child. She screamed and stomped her feet and spit and threw herself on the ground...I mean it was quite the scene. Teresa said it took two security guards and the store manager to restrain her.

At the end of it, she looked like a mental case. Drenched in sweat, snot running down into her mouth. How embarrassing for Rick. And what makes the whole thing even more strange, is she kept trying to blame John! Apparently, that event forced Rick into hiring a "nanny" which we all understood was basically a babysitter for Patrice. Nobody wanted to be around her after that, and her mood swings occurred more frequently. I swear when I'd be trying to tell her a story, she would zone out completely. I tested her one time and told her that my mother was from Mobile, but she's actually from Montgomery and later I told her how we were supposed to go visit my mother in Montgomery, and she didn't even question it!

So, with her little non-confession, I decided not to divulge to the other ladies. For whatever reason, it felt like something I wanted to keep in my own back pocket, in case. In case of what? I couldn't tell you, but I had a full view of the rollercoaster ride that was Patrice Adams, and that woman really is odd. Don't even get me started on the time she almost killed the boy.