His Vengeful Tradwife

9. Tallulah

CHAPTER 9

Tallulah

M y father-in-law didn't stop at one slap either, but rained blows with his glove down on Maverick's face, slapping him ferociously across both cheeks.

"Le batard!" he cursed at him in French. "You bastard! I did not raise you to be a bastard!"

My mother-in-law, Dr. Laurent, was white with fury, every inch of her expensively-clad body vibrating with anger.

"Really, Maverick? A mistress? How tacky! "

She began to throw things at him and Amanda, everything that wasn't nailed down in their room.

"Nooo, stop!" Amanda complained as a well-thrown pineapple hit her painfully in the shins.

"I don't want to divorce Tallulah!" Maverick protested, holding his hands up to try to blunt his father's attacks, dodging a decorative plate his mother sent crashing past his head.

"I am doing everything I can to beg her to take me back!" he roared.

"Then why is your mistress here?" his mother spat.

"Tallulah made me bring her!" Maverick protested. "I don't want her here at all!"

"Are you fucking kidding me ?" Amanda shrieked in a high-pitched, grating wail. "You want to break up with me? After all I've given up for you! When your wife literally ruined my career I’ve worked so hard for!"

She ran her hands through her short brown hair, her eyes looking maddened. "I hate you! I hate you! You're the worst! Your kids are brats--"

Here she was interrupted by the audible gasps of my in-laws and even my sweet-tempered parents.

"Ma'am, that is going too far," Dad said sternly, while Dr. Laurent pointed her perfectly-manicured hand accusingly at Amanda.

"Maverick, this is the kind of woman you have abandoned your loving wife and delightful family for?" she snapped. "This is beyond everything. We are going to need an emergency psychoanalysis session to figure out what is going on with you."

My ex was already yelling at Amanda, in a tone I'd never heard him use with me .

"Just shut your mouth about my kids and get out of here, you bitch!"

I had to intervene. Amanda was certainly a pain in the ass, and I could not listen to her melodramatic wailing the entire trip, but I wasn't quite ready for her to leave yet.

She was going to get off the ship when I was ready for her to go. Not on Maverick's timeline.

So I walked over to Amanda and hugged her comfortingly while propelling her out.

"Maybe you should go back to your room or something. I'm sure he doesn't mean it. I'll get him to apologize later, honey. No worries. Just go do some golf or tennis or something."

I shoved her firmly out the door and shut it in her face, then turned around to a very pissed-off Maverick, his big chest heaving up and down with emotion.

"Tallulah, you know damn well I do mean it! I want to get you back. I want my happy family back."

"This is the behavior of a simpleton," Dr. Laurent said, raising his glove again, but his wife stopped him.

"Maverick, I insist on emergency psychoanalysis. Tallulah, you are welcome to attend, too, although of course we would understand it if you want nothing further to do with him and prefer to only communicate about the children."

"No!" Maverick choked, looking at me with raw eyes as he clutched at my hand. I noticed there were dark circles under his eyes and his handsome face looked drawn and miserable. "Tallulah, please!"

I didn't like to give Maverick anything, but how could I resist being there for his psychoanalysis by force?

"I'll stay," I said. "Just don't touch me."

He made a low note of pain, clenching and unclenching his big fists, then shoving them into his pockets as if to keep himself from me.

"Maybe you had better leave," I told my parents. "I'll see you later."

"OK, honey," My dad said. "As long as you're ok?"

He glanced over at Maverick, and I saw my ex flush.

Well, fucking good. He should be embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Maverick said haltingly. "It was--the stupidest mistake."

"Some mistakes can't be undone," Dad said, taking my stepmom's hand.

Maverick hung his head, and his mother grabbed his ear firmly and dragged him over to where there was a desk in the stateroom.

Both Drs. Laurent sat on one side of the desk, grumbling to each other, while Maverick grabbed chairs for us and we sat down on the other side.

My in-laws were both making low, angry exclamations to each other as they gathered pens and paper and began to stack their psychology textbooks in front of them.

"Why, I never--"

"Simply REPULSIVE"

"Never in all my goddamn years--"

“To cheat on this absolute angel—”

“This saint of a woman—"

"My own flesh and blood!"

"Did we spoil him too much, Henrietta?"

"Well, Pierre, you WOULD tell him he was such a clever, handsome boy."

"Maybe that was our mistake. Probably hard labor would have been more appropriate?"

I felt Maverick's hand on the back of my chair, then his desperate eyes were looking wildly into mine. "Tallulah, you have to believe me when I tell you how sorry I am. I can't believe I ever was stupid enough to suggest divorce. I will go through any counseling you want if you only promise to forgive me.”

"SILENCE!" my father-in-law snapped. "Now, Maverick, we need to get to the root cause of this. Tell me about your recent dreams."

"I guess. . .I guess I had a dream about a building the other night. And Tallulah was in danger and I was trying to get to her, but my legs wouldn't move."

I wanted to roll my eyes, but suppressed the urge.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Dr. Laurent said. "There's only one interpretation for that, wouldn't you agree, Dr. Laurent?"

"I certainly agree, Dr. Laurent. Clearly it's about his penis. He feels a sublimated anxiety about its place in the world, perhaps anxiety about if his penis will continue to perform up to expectations as he turns 40."

They began to scribble notes furiously on a pad of paper and flip through a book entitled Your Aging Penis And You .

"It's not-- it's not about my penis!" Maverick said hotly. "My penis is perfectly normal. I have no anxiety about it. Back me up here, Tallulah."

It was no part of my plans to back up Maverick, so I said, "His penis is adequate."

"Adequate?" Maverick yelped, his eyes narrowing at me.

He tightened his mouth and I saw the tendons stand out in his arms as he gripped the chair. Naturally he could not tell his parents any of the many more-than-adequate things he had done with his cock so he only glared at me.

They looked displeased.

"Perhaps you felt unsatisfied with your sexual relationship with your wife, is that it? You wanted something you felt you couldn't get from her? Perhaps you asked her to dress up like a nun or the pope and she refused?"

"No!" Maverick cried. "God, Mother. Nothing like that! Having sex with Tallulah was the best thing in the world."

"So why did you cheat on her?" his father asked, glaring over his spectacles.

I felt my body tense a bit.

Yes, I did want to know the answer to this. I wanted to know very much why my madly in love, jealous, intensely devoted husband had cheated on me.

"I don't know! I can't explain it! It's like I went mad! It wasn't about the sex."

"So you had a mistress but it wasn't about sex? Got it!" his father said scornfully.

They flipped through a big psychiatric diagnostic book, pointing at different passages.

"You told me she was your soulmate ," I said, as my in-laws both made noises of disgust.

"What in the world made you think that sour bitch was your soulmate?" my mother-in-law asked. "Had you been upset with Tallulah for any reason?"

"No--no, not really," he said, glancing over at me.

Ah-ha!

"I don't know--I guess I had been a little upset with her about her channel."

"Her channel?" Dr. Laurent asked. "The channel that brings in many millions of dollars a year for your family?"

Maverick shifted a bit. "Well, yes, but you know I always thought you were too smart for all that, Tallulah. Of course you did a great job with your channel, but you could do even bigger things."

"What did you even know about my channel?" I retorted. "You refused to get involved. You never help. You don't watch my videos."

"I-I can start watching them. It's just--chickens, you know! Collecting eggs? Making cottage cheese? Tallulah, I know you're goddamn brilliant! You were doing a graduate degree in art history!"

Anger started gathering under my skin.

I fucking knew it.

I knew he had a fucking problem with my channel. He would just never admit it, the weak, cowardly, avoidant, cheating, betraying, jackass bastard idiot.

"There is no money in art history," I said between clenched teeth. "I found something I could do for my family, to make good money. You think we could have had a comfortable house, been able to pay off your law school loans, afford this vacation, with art history?"

My in-laws were scribbling madly.

"I've seen a lot of things in my day," my father-in-law said, looking at Maverick like he was a bug he wanted to squash on the sidewalk. "But I've never seen a man get a divorce because he thought he was too good for chickens. I'm sick of the sight of you. Tallulah, let's get together for wine hour later. Maverick, you are not invited. Do not bring your little mistress."

"She's not my mistress!" Maverick said in agony. "Tallulah, I'll do chickens with you!" he said anxiously. "Is that what you want? I swear to God, I'll do it! I'll milk the cows every morning. I'll churn some fucking butter!"

His mother began to stack books in his arms, things like Introductory Feminist Theory and Managing Your Feelings for Men.

I escaped out a side door as he was protesting.

I wanted to think about things.

The kids were having a sleepover with my parents and I settled in for a glass of champagne, some chocolates, and my favorite entertainment--listening to Maverick and Amanda in the room directly next to mine.

They weren't having sex.

Nothing so boring as that.

I perused the room service menu in a leisurely manner as I listened to the two of them fight.

"I wish I'd never fucking met you!" Amanda screeched. “Your wife has ruined my entire life . I can’t even show my face around work anymore because everyone knows I’m going to get fucking fired.”

I sighed contently and snuggled deeper into my chair. Some sushi might hit the spot for an evening snack.

"Fucking you was the worst mistake of my life!" Maverick snapped. "I can't believe I threw my whole life away over some mediocre boring sex!"

Hmm, spicy tuna roll sounded good. Or maybe sashimi?

" Your life? What about me?" Amanda raged. "I was on track to be the youngest partner in the firm's history. Now I'm trying to find another job and no one will touch me!”

Actually, I was a simple girl. Twelve avocado rolls paired best with the sweet sound of Maverick and his mistress's bitter hatred of each other.

I ordered over the phone as they discussed strategies to salvage their careers.

"I've already told Mr. Perez that I want to get back with Tallulah," Maverick said. "He was unimpressed. So don't bother trying that."

Amanda's screech was positively pterodactyl. "I'm so glad I set my career on fucking fire so you could sit around moping that your wife won't talk to you."

"Anyone would be sorry to lose Tallulah," Maverick said. "Whereas I can barely even remember your fucking face and I'm literally fucking looking at it."

“I did everything I thought you’d want in bed!” she wailed. “And now you’re fucking bored ? What the fuck else could I have done?’

“You’re not Tallulah,” my asshole ex-husband replied coldly.

By the time my snack came Maverick was noisily settling down to sleep on the couch and Amanda was sobbing loudly.

"Quit fucking complaining," Maverick said, but Amanda only sobbed louder.

"I can't believe I have to spend the rest of the trip stuck in a room with you," she cried.

"I told you not to mess with my wife,” he warned. "She's smarter than you and you'll be sorry."

I popped the first avocado roll into my mouth.

So good

The next morning, I had breakfast with the kids, not bothering to tell Maverick when we were eating, and he only came up as we were leaving.

"Tell me next time so I can eat with you," he said unhappily.

"Oh, don't worry, you can have time with them now," I said serenely. "Can you take them to do some crafts?"

"I don't just want time with them," he growled. "I want time with you, too."

"Bye now," I caroled.

He looked like shit, big dark circles under his eyes, his dark hair looking wild and messy.

Good.

Now that I was temporarily at leisure, I put on a white bikini and went to the upper deck. The sun was shining, the sea was a sparkling blue, and I had barely picked up my first fruity mixed drink when I noticed four guys in the beach volleyball pit looking at me. I pretended not to notice.

Instead, I adjusted my swimsuit and sat down on a deck chair.

Maverick was a little too happy that I hadn’t invited Austin, and that simply couldn’t continue.

That's when the first guy came over. "I'm Lars, and that's my teammate Hans. We're the Swiss beach volleyball team and we're here doing lessons. I couldn’t help but notice you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Lars was a very attractive tall white blonde-haired man, and Hans was just as cute.

“That’s flattering, boys, I said, “but it’s so comfortable in this chair.”

Lars grinned a huge megawatt smile.

"Those other guys are Moseki and Obonye," he said, pointing to two hot, dark-skinned men with bulging muscles. "They're the national team from Botswana. Would you like to learn how to play beach volleyball? We'd love to teach you."

"I was planning on just sunbathing," I said. "But I might be persuaded."

"We could make it worth your while," Lars said, holding out a tanned arm.

But then I saw something that made me put a regrettable pause on their thirst.

"Just a moment," I said. "I'll need a rain check on that beach volleyball lesson."

Across the ship, I had just seen Amanda heading out to play tennis with a tall Latin instructor.

"I had no idea you'd be on the ship," she chirped, her voice sounding anxious and excited. "Remember how we used to play together in college?"

Well well well.

Turnabout is fair play, honey.

I readjusted my bikini top under my full breasts and headed over.