Mary stood on the city sidewalk with a Sporting News she had just bought to surprise her husband when she spotted him leaving a restaurant. With a woman! A fancy restaurant with an attractive woman!
They stood close together on the sidewalk. Too close. And happy. Intimate even, like they shared a secret.
No, not my husband!
He waved down a taxi and opened the door for her. As she stepped to the car, she offered her hand, but he brushed it aside for a quick hug. He watched her drive away. As it made the turn into traffic, he did a double fist pump, joy on his face. No, not joy. More like ecstasy.
She ducked behind the newsstand and leaned against a utility pole. It felt like an icepick was stuck in her chest. Her pulse raced and blood pounded in her ears.
How could he?
Six hours later, Mary was in the kitchen preparing supper when she heard her husband’s footsteps on the front porch steps.
“Hi, Darlin’,” he said as he slouched into the house and entered the kitchen.
He dropped his briefcase on a chair, gave her a peck on the cheek, patted her bottom, then attacked the fridge. He grabbed a frosted mug and poured himself a beer. “Man, oh, man. Do I ever need this. I am exhausted.”
“Bad day?” Mary asked.
“Marginal. Very marginal. And long.” He popped a cashew into his mouth. “I spent the entire day on that damned Adams account that I told you about. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a mess cross my desk. I finally, finally, put it to bed! Holy cow, what a pain. Glad that’s over.” He stretched, arms up over his head, and groaned.
“Glad to hear it.” She laid out the ingredients for dinner. “Anything happen besides that?”
“Nope. Did you get any writing done?”
“A little. I had things on my mind.”
“What, no murders, no dismemberments today?”
She smiled. Not yet.
“Hey, what’s for dinner?”
“Sausage with tomatoes and vegetables.” She picked up a slender hard sausage. “I was downtown this afternoon…”
“Yeah?” He picked up the TV remote and hit the power button. ESPN Sports Center filled the screen.
Watching him, she held the rigid spear of the sausage in both hands, and stroked the grainy surface with her fingers.
He plopped down on the couch, placed his feet on the coffee table, and sighed. “What a day.”
Mary placed the sausage on the cutting board and extracted a knife from its holder. She studied the back of his head, then slit the casing of the sausage from end to end and flayed it, slowly stripping the skin from the meat. Then she diced the meat deliberately and steadily from one end to the other and placed it in a pot of boiling water.
Her husband changed the channel and a soccer game appeared on the screen. He settled back into the cushions, now completely engrossed in the game.
She took two peeled tomatoes from a can and held them for a moment, one in each palm. The meaty tomato walls were veined and wet. She squeezed them gently as she rolled each one in her hand, increasing the pressure more and more until both burst. Blood red juices spattered all over the counter.
“Oh,” he shouted, “Oh, my God!”
He jumped to his feet and faced her. “Babe,” he said, “how could I forget? Jeez, what a putz.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Remember that trip we won before Christmas but the charter airline went bankrupt?”
She nodded, still glaring, heartbeats pounding in her chest.
“Well, the tour company sent a broker over to my office today. She took me to lunch and we worked out the details.
“Surprise! Next month, you and I are headed for Panama for a ten day cruise!”