Free The Last Original Wife by Dorothea Benton Frank

take us to the airport and Paolo and Lisette had come by to wish us a safe trip.
    â€œBoy, it’s a good thing we live in Atlanta or else we’d have to change planes.” I said this in the direction of Cornelia and Lisette, deciding to make small talk, you know, to set a lighthearted tone.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Cornelia said.
    â€œWell, there’s an old saying that if you die and go to hell, you still have to change planes in Atlanta,” I said in my most charming voice. And youthful voice too. Yes, I sounded decidedly youthful.
    They looked at me as though I’d lost my mind.
    â€œI never heard that,” Lisette said and looked to Cornelia. “Did you?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “What does it mean, Les?”
    â€œOh, never mind,” I said, feeling two thousand years old. “It’s a dumb saying anyway.”
    â€œOh,” they said, and they began discussing Lady Gaga’s latest concert.
    Now, just to set the record straight on this one, I’m well aware of Gaga’s meat dress and that she was born that way and I even sort of like her music.
    Not really. But right there and then I knew it was going to take a lot more than a pink silk jacket to get me through this trip.

CHAPTER 6
    Les—Post-Edinburgh
    A fter many visits to the oral surgeon and orthopedist, I was finally feeling and looking almost like myself again. But it wasn’t just my teeth that were broken or my left arm, it was my spirit. Of course, Wes didn’t notice any significant difference in my mood but—here comes old and lame golf humor—that was par for the course.
    It was Wednesday, the twenty-third, right before the spring dance at the club. Danette brought over a pound cake, still warm from her oven. She listened as I recounted (for the fiftieth time) the horrors of the trip over coffee in my kitchen.
    â€œI still can’t believe what happened. He actually left you in a hospital in a foreign country and went off with Harold to play golf and thought that was okay? You’re kidding, right?”
    â€œNo. I am not kidding. And he said the accident was my own fault, that I was lollygagging, taking pictures, and not watching where I was going. Maybe that’s true, but there’s another truth here and that’s that it was a forty-minute walk back to the hotel. So for forty minutes . . .”
    â€œHe didn’t realize you weren’t by his side.”
    â€œThat’s right. That’s what upsets me more than anything else. But actually, his judgment sucks all around. Remember when he didn’t show up for Tessa’s funeral because he had a lunch date?”
    â€œYou’re right. Awful.”
    Danette and I looked at each other. The implications of Wes’s attitude were so heartbreaking and disappointing. I had been reliving the entire ordeal in my mind. The first face I saw when I regained consciousness was Cornelia’s, not Wesley’s. Her gigantic boobs were staring at me. This simple fact angered me in a way I had never known. I was beyond furious with him. What if I’d had a serious head injury? What if a decision had to be made and I was unconscious? Would Cornelia be making that call? Did she know I was allergic to penicillin? No. I could have been dead and laid out on a cold marble slab in a Scottish morgue with an ID tag on my big toe, but don’t worry, Harold and Wes were sinking putts on the Old Course.
    Danette sighed deeply and rapped the tips of her fingers on the table a few times.
    â€œOh, Les, don’t read so deeply into this, honey. When it comes to things like this? Men are just like, well, as dumb as a pile of rocks. We both know that.”
    â€œNo. Wes is many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. You know, Danette, I might as well face it. Wes doesn’t love me anymore. I don’t think he’s shown me any real affection in ten years. And I haven’t been