Stepping by Nancy Thayer Page A

called to invite us over, or Anthony had told Charlie we should come over for a drink, or pumpkin pie, or Christmas cheer, or whatever. But I had always pleasantly, politely, refused. I could see no reason to spend any time with a woman who so obviously disliked me, who had, as the lawyer’s later letters had shown, played a major part in Adelaide’s discontent. I hadn’t felt bitter; I had just not wanted to go. After the letter in October from the lawyer, with the copy of Adelaide’s letter, I had felt like biting and pulling hair. “I have a reliable friend, Mrs. Anthony Leyden, and she will verify in writing that Mr. Campbell’s new wife has very expensive clothes.” What other ridiculous tidbits had June Leyden been feeding Adelaide Campbell’s anger? During the days before the hearing Charlie talked to his lawyers and with Adelaide, and it seemed that June had fed Adelaide’s anger quite a lot.
    At first I had longed to call June on the phone or to confront her: “See my dress? Sure, it’s expensive, my parents bought it for me last year. Do you like my shoes? I bought them myself; I’m teaching now, I have my own money. I’m not a drab, dull drone like you, stuck at home in a greasy print housedress that’s five years outdated. Is that why you hate me so? Is that why you’re trying to take things from me?”
    But of course I didn’t call her. I yelled a lot at Charlie and at the walls when Charlie wasn’t home, but I decided that after all, it wasn’t worth it. If I called her it would only give her more food to feed Adelaide; I didn’t want to give those women anything ofmine, not even my anger.
    But now here was Anthony, so charming and sure of his charm, offering me a ride. I lost control.
    “Do I want a ride home? With you? Today? You are perverse.” I turned and walked away, quickly.
    Anthony shut off his engine, jumped out of the car, and ran to catch up with me. He took me by the arm.
    “Why shouldn’t I offer you a ride today, Zelda Campbell?” He pulled me to him, smiled down in my face.
    I couldn’t understand it. He seemed to be flirting with me. I tried to back away, and his other arm shot out around me; I was locked in an absurd embrace.
    “I know what you’re afraid of, lovely little Zelda,” he said. “You’re afraid that since ol’ Charlie bear is away at that meeting, things might get a little too interesting for an unprotected little cupcake like you. You’re afraid that if I take you home now, I might try to eat you up. And you’re right, sugar bum, you’re right. Yum, yum, yum.”
    My head was spinning. There I stood on the university sidewalk with a professor who was also my husband’s best friend nibbling at my ears. Through all the confusion one word surfaced: “meeting.”
    “Meeting?” I asked, pulling away sharply. “You call a court hearing a meeting?”
    “Court hearing? What are you talking about, Zelda?” Immediately the monkey business stopped.
    “I’m talking about the trial Charlie had to go to in Wichita today. Adelaide’s suing him for more money. Partly thanks to your wife’s kindly letters of lies to Adelaide.”
    Anthony looked so totally taken aback that I couldn’t help but continue; a gleeful righteous anger spurred me on. “Dear June, your sweet, pure wife. Don’t you know she wrote Adelaide and told her that Charlie and I live in a fine house in the best part of town, with a pond and a statue? When it’s the tiniest house in the area, the yard is thirty feet square, and the statue is just a poor little brass frog! June wrote her all sorts of crap, my beautiful clothes, the silver in our dining room—Jesus, it’s all my grandparents’ silver—we have to go to court because my grandparents gave me a tea service! Your wife is agoddamned fink , Anthony Leyden. She tells Adelaide lies, she exaggerates what she sees, to keep Adelaide in a stew of envy and anger. I can’t stand the sight of her, and I can’t stand the sight of