He says, “Don’t be crass. This isn’t about me. This is about you. Mia and I worked on the garden together last summer, do you remember? She had two weeks up here without you. Just the boys and gardening. I saw her relax, come to life. I gave her some suggested reading materials.” Buck looks at Mia and nods, prodding my wife like a shepherd herding his lost sheep. It works.
Mia leans toward me and says, “I learned about what you are, that there was a name for this. I learned it wasn’t me. I am not the crazy one. But still, it took me all winter to get the courage to leave you. When you got fired, and when I found out why, that sealed it. But I knew you wouldn’t let me leave without a fight.”
“That’s where I come in, me and my people. We’ve been tailing you, Paul,” Buck says.
I squint my eyes, staring a hole in Buck’s forehead. Why do he and Mia seem to finish each other’s sentences, like an old married couple? It’s getting annoying. But it doesn’t matter. What could he possibly have seen if he was following me? Nothing, of course.
“I fail to see why anyone would want to follow a successful businessman going to work each day and returning home to his beautiful family in their gorgeous suburban home,” I say.
Buck is smirking, I am almost positive, though his expression remains stoic. “Nothing is ever what it seems, you know that, Paul,” he says. “We follow you every weekday as you visit your lover Gretchen.”
How dare he say her name in front of Mia? My brain registers this daunting fact and then I realize she probably has seen photos. Poor Mia. I’ll need to give her a really big hug.
Mia’s head has dropped into her hands.
“She has no impact on us, Mia. I love you. You’re my wife. She is just, well, for sex,” I say.
“Oh, God,” Buck says.
On the couch, Mia is shaking again. I start to stand up, to go comfort her.
Buck places his hand on my thigh, squeezes my leg hard and says: “Sit down. Now.”
12:25 a.m.
26
I lower myself into the chair again, but he can’t make me stay here. Nobody can make me do anything. I feel the fire surging inside me. I will not be forced to sit for long.
“You’ve got quite a history with women, haven’t you, Paul? We know about Lois, your first wife. I spent an afternoon with her. Lovely woman. Still terrified of you. Funny how you never mentioned to Mia that you’d been married before,” Buck says.
“Not relevant, not at all.” How dare he stomp around in my business? I know, I never told you I was married to Lois. It was a short, messy affair. Best to just move on and that’s why I never discuss it. I had made a very rare miscalculation. I thought I should marry young; it was part of the package of an up-and-coming successful advertising executive. I had the vision of how my life would look in my head. I just needed to fill in the actual people to play the roles.
The moment I met Lois in class I knew she was perfect prey. She would fit the role of wife exactly as I imagined. I worked my charms, waiting for her after class with an armful of her favorite white daisies, for example, and later, leaving little love notes in her backpack each morning for her to find during class. It was all romantic, and no surprise that she fell for me, hook, line and sinker. But I had that regrettable lapse of control and allowed my mask to slip. That would not happen again. No, best not to tell anyone about Lois. That story is over. The end. Lois’s divorce papers were simplistic, but I’d gladly signed. Good riddance. And I’d never discuss it now, with this man.
“Lois, Caroline Fisher, Rebecca More—all of these women and others, both you and I know about, are terrified of you. None of them knew about your pattern of behavior, that it has been going on your entire life. They all do now. If you think you can get away with hurting any of them or threatening them again, you are very wrong,” Buck says.
“I don’t know what kind of picture you’re trying to paint of me, but I resent the implications. I’ve never laid a hand on my wife, on Mia. She will confirm that, right, honey?” I ask. I look over at Mia, now curled up in a ball, her feet tucked beneath her, in the corner of the couch. I want to go hug her and strangle her, all at once. It’s a pleasant sensation that I allow to brew inside me. I do not believe that Buck can match my fire. I can take him if I choose to.
You’ve probably figured it out by now, haven’t you? My little plan for our best day ever. My sickly little wife, my secret stash of powder. The two are related, of course. But what would hurt my wife the most at this point, given these new facts laid out by her lover? What would hurt her most—her death by my hand or never seeing her children again? It’s an interesting question. I’d planned the former, but now I may need to regroup.
There are always options when you are smarter than everyone. Gretchen and I will sell the Columbus house, use whatever proceeds I make to start over. I read that Nashville is booming, one of the fastest growing cities in the country; maybe we’ll move there. I’ve read it’s more than country music now, much more. Lois likes it there and it will be fun to run into her again. I like my new plan.
“So, the little meeting tonight is to get me to sign these papers, to give up the cottage, which is fine with me, given the neighbors—no offense, Buck—and I get the Columbus home. Is that correct?” I ask.
“Yes,” the gray ball in the corner of the couch says. “As long as you agree to leave me, the boys and my family alone.”
My laugh breaks the silence of the room. “Mia, you’re hysterical.”
The boys will be with me. They need a father figure. They’ve outgrown all of that mommy care. It’s time for them to become men, which I have talked to her about incessantly. Does she forget everything I’ve taught her? It’s natural for the boys to begin pulling away from their mother and turn to me, their father. It’s expected. And so of course, they’ll be with me. Mia is staring at me and so is Buck. I want to reassure her that this is the way it is all meant to be. And it is.
“You’ll be able to visit, don’t worry. You’ve done a good job with them. Now it’s my turn,” I say. It’s as if I’m talking to a child. We review the same points, ad nauseam. It’s frustrating. I feel my right hand clench. I push a smile onto my lips, running my tongue across my teeth. “I’ll be with them tonight, as soon as I get out of here. Nothing to worry about.”
Mia uncurls, puts her feet on the floor, leans forward and says, “The boys will be with me. Period.”
I fight the urge to reach for her. To slap her, hard, so hard she flies across the room. A gray ball flying into oblivion, her head cracking against the floor.
“It’s all here, in the agreement you will sign,” Buck says. I know he is redirecting my attention to him. Foolish man to get in the middle of my life, to get with my wife. He had better watch his back.