A Football Player's Wife She smiled, blushed, and shook her head. It was simply amazing those two didn't have a gaggle of little ones, the way they went at it. "So," Dianna smiled into the silence, "does anyone know where Edward is?" There were a few chuckles and guffaws. Then someone said, "I think I saw him go down to the locker room, Dianna." Dianna smiled. "Thanks, Q." Then she went down the stairs and found the player's locker room. Dianna knocked on the door. Another man besides her husband answered the door, but that was okay, she recognized Antony, who was a friend of Edward's. Antony was only five-ten and 215 pounds, about a shade lighter than her husband, and kept his hair well-trimmed. Antony's face went as pale as a black man's face can get. "Uhhh...hi, Dianna. Nice to see you." Dianna said, "Tasha came up to surprise Oscar. She got me to come up with her." Antony grinned. "Wow. That oughta cheer up Oscar." They both laughed. "So, where's my husband, Antony?" Antony had a profound internal discussion with himself that lasted all of a second. It was about time the bragging bastard got what was coming to him. "Come on in," he said. He opened the door and let her in. Dianna walked in and heard her husband's voice. She smiled her thanks at Antony and patted his arm. Then she went to the door and went in. And saw a woman, naked, in between her husband's legs, her head bobbing up and down. Her cheerleader uniform and his practice uniform were scattered all over the room. "What the hell is this?" she screeched. Both her husband and the woman looked up at her, startled. Edward went slack-jawed and buggy eyed. He blurted out, "Who the hell let you in?" Dianna smiled icily. "Antony. He's such a nice man." "Dianna, baby, this--" "Really?" Dianna said. "This looks like a whore is giving you a blowjob. What's it supposed to look like?" "I am not a whore," the girl said indignantly. "I'm his girlfriend." "Well," Dianna said icily. "I'm his wife. But not any more." She quickly left the room, striding out onto the field and meeting Tasha again, who was looking very satisfied. Tasha's face became less certain when she saw Dianna's face. "What happened?" she asked. Dianna just kept walking back to Tasha's car. "Let's just get back to my house." Tasha took her by the arm. "What happened?" "I caught Edward with his girlfriend," Dianna said sarcastically. "I hope you had a good time with Oscar." The started walking again. "Yes, I did," Tasha smiled. "What are you going to do?" "Let's get me back home," Dianna said. "But what are you going to do?" "Call an attorney," Dianna snapped. For starters, she thought. By the end of the week, every player on the team knew Edward Newton had been caught cheating on his wife. And celebrated it. * * * * In the newsroom two weeks later, the announcement on the noon news arrived like thunder and lightning. The pretty and perky anchor turned to the super-handsome sports anchor and said, "I understand that all is not well at the team?" "That's right, Wendy," the sports guy said, with an appropriately somber sigh. "The famous defensive tackle Edward Newton has been served with divorce papers from his wife of seven years, Dianna Beauvais. Court papers only state irreconcilable differences." The somber look was replaced by a grin. "And speaking of football, here are the latest standings in the first week of the new season..." At that moment, Wendell came into the room, carrying a duffel bag. "Hey, have you heard about your friend?" Pam asked him. "No, heard what?" Wendell said. "She's getting a divorce," Pam replied. She looked at his bags and said, "Where are you going, Wendell?" "You're sending me to Laguna Seca for the Super Bike race, remember?" Pam looked at her watch. "Yes, that's right. And your flight leaves in less than two hours. Better get going." Wendell grinned. "I'm going, I'm going." All through the flight over, and during the four day weekend of testing and qualifying, and finally the day of the race itself, he couldn't stop thinking about Dianna. During the flight home, the jet airplane couldn't fly fast enough for Wendell. * * * * Dianna Beauvais watched the moving men take the last piece of her soon to be ex husband's belongings and put them in the moving truck. That left the house pretty much empty. But that was okay because she intended to fill the house with some brand new memories. Unfortunately Wendell hadn't called her back -- and she'd left like about a million messages on his machine. Dianna was wondering about him. And some of it wasn't good. Like if he was meeting other women at the club. But she was getting the number-one irritant out of her life, namely Edward Newton. She had asked him for an uncontested divorce, and if she didn't get that, she would go to the closest media outlet and grant them an all-access interview and tell them exactly why she wanted a divorce. Newton had laughed at the time. Who in the media would take seriously the rantings of a pampered NFL wife? Dianna had merely smiled back and replied that it wasn't the media he had to worry about. It was his adoring public. She watched the moving truck go down the leaf-strewn street and disappear around a curb when she heard the phone ring. She ran for it and said, "Hello?" "Dianna?" the voice said. "Wendell?" Dianna breathed. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick." "Sorry," he replied. "I've been gone covering a story. Didn't have a chance to tell you." "I'm glad you're back," Dianna smiled. "I'm glad to be back," Wendell said. "I missed you, Dianna." "I missed you, too," she said warmly. "Can you meet me somewhere?" "Absolutely. Where?" Wendell asked. Dianna said, her voice tremulous, "How about my house?" "Give me directions," Wendell said. Trying to calm down, Dianna gave him directions starting at the club. "Be there in a about an hour." It was only one in the afternoon. The day was drab and dreary. But what was about to happen inside would light up neon signs for miles. Dianna Beauvais waited for Wendell inside the door way, wearing a loose-fitting, mid thigh length, navy blue slip dress, her nails polished clear, her makeup light and natural, except for bold red shiny lipstick, wearing clear plastic high heels again. Under her dress, she was wearing the lacy bra and panties. And she knew that this time, she would not be ignored. Ever again. She saw him finally pull up to the curb and she ran over to him, hugged him tight and kissed him over and over again. "Oh, baby," she laughed. "I love you. I missed you so much." "I love you, too," Wendell said, holding her. "What were you gone so long to cover?" "Sorry about that," Wendell apologized. "Didn't mean to worry you. It was a motorcycle race. Had to stay for the whole weekend." "No apologies," Dianna smiled. "You're home now. Come on inside." She took his hand and led him inside. Wendell followed. Dianna closed the door, then she led him by the hand to the brown leather couch. "I guess you've heard what happened." Wendell nodded. "Yeah. It was difficult not to have heard." Dianna chuckled a little. "I really didn't want you to find out that way," she smiled. "I was going to call you about your article. I read it and I liked it." "You did?" Wendell said. "Yes, I did," Dianna smiled. "Except I kind of wish you had warned me I was going to be in it so much." They both cracked up. But then Dianna slipped off his tweed blazer, and straddled him. "But right now, that doesn't matter," she whispered. "All I want is you." Wendell put his arms around Dianna's waist and pulled her close. When they kissed, no other world existed for Wendell, except for the cool soft lips on his, lightly kissing. After ten minutes of just kissing, Dianna pulled back some, caught her breath, and whispered, "Oh, baby." As Dianna ran her nails through his hair, Wendell ran his hands up her arms and on her shoulders, and caught the slim straps of her dress and pulled them down across her arms, exposing the white strap of her bra. "I'd better go put on some more lipstick," Dianna said lightly. "Looks like it's gonna be a long afternoon." And it was....