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Burlington, October 18
6:45 p.m.
Kate Saint-Pierre.
She’s a slim figure in black and pink, running down the path toward me. The low early sun streams through the woods and has a strobe-light effect on her body. Her ponytail bounces wildly. Her arms resemble pistons as they pump back and forth in sync with the short strides of her legs. I admire her form—head up, chest out, back straight.
She rounds a bend in the trail and comes down the slope. Our distance is closing fast, two trains barreling straight for each other on the same track. Excitement surges through me. My heart races. My senses heighten.
I hear the crunch of gravel under her feet, the rustle of leaves, the stir of a sudden gust high in the turning trees. I inhale the smell of earthy decay, a whiff of something citrusy. I can see a good one hundred fifty yards of the path trailing Kate Saint-Pierre, and there’s no sign of anyone else. There’s no one behind me, either. We’re the only two humans around. It’s beautiful, this serendipitous moment.
About thirty feet separate us now. I notice her cheeks are flushed. Sweat glistens on her face. Her breaths sound deep and even; she’s not huffing and puffing at all. Probably a belly-breather, and that worries me. She could be an experienced runner who has a lot of gas left in the tank. If she gets away, I might not be able to catch her.
Respectfully, I move to the edge of the trail, giving her room. Just before we intersect, she acknowledges me with a quick smile. I return the gesture. It’s a fraternal thing some runners do, like the motorcyclists and truck drivers you see waving to one another on the highways.
As we pass, I casually stick my foot out, and she catches my instep so hard it makes me wince. She topples forward to the ground with a soft grunt. I stop and look down at her.
“Oh, sorry.” I try my damnedest to sound concerned. “Are you okay?”
She lies there on her stomach for a few moments, making little moaning noises. I wonder if she got the wind knocked out of her. Then she lifts her head and slowly pushes up to her knees. Her hands shake as she begins flicking bits of gravel from her palms.
I reach into the pocket of my hoodie, gripping my piece of rope. The ends are knotted so my hands won’t slip off.
“Are you okay?” I repeat.
She looks back over her shoulder at me. Her eyebrows are squeezed together in a crease. Her mouth is twisted to one side. She spits out a caustic “Fine.”
I give a look around. There’s no one coming. The park isn’t as busy as it was yesterday. Lucky for me; not so much for her.
Kate Saint-Pierre begins to stand.
“Here, let me help you,” I say, moving to the front of her.
She holds up a hand to stop me. “I’m fine. Really.”
No, honey. You’re not.
It takes only a second for me to pull the rope from my pocket and loop it around her neck. Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. Her hands fly to her throat. Then she’s falling backward to the ground. A gush of air shoots out of her nostrils as my body weight lands on top of her. Quickly, I cross the ends of the rope and give it a sharp tug. She writhes beneath me, struggling to get free. She whips her nails into a crazy frenzy, clawing for my eyes. I feel the fiery lick as one of them scratches my cheek, and it angers me to no end.
I snap the rope tighter, and her hands scramble to it, trying to pull it free. I watch her face swelling, changing color. She looks up into my eyes, and I see the fear and confusion swimming among the tears. I’ve seen that look many times before. Each of those is burned into my memory. Stored there so I can pull one out at random and soak in warm reminiscence.
The creak of the office door drags me, kicking and screaming, from my pleasant daydream. Right away, I click the mouse on my desk, and the news article about Kate Saint-Pierre disappears from the monitor.
I swivel in my chair to face the source of the intrusion. Heidi stands in the doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. Behind her comes the sound of Jade and Jaleesa laughing and splashing around in the bathroom down the hall.
“Girls,” Heidi calls to them. “Don’t you be making a mess.”
They call back, “We won’t, Mom.”
I smile. Their laughter is infectious. It wraps my whole body in a warm hug. I read somewhere new fathers go through biochemical changes. Testosterone plummets. Estrogen levels rise. The brain rewires itself. Extra neurons form and make new connections. The father literally becomes motherly.
There must be some truth to it, because when Jaleesa was born, a change did come over me. I felt a bond with her that I never had with any other human being. Until, of course, Jade came into the world. Then I had those feelings all over again.
“Whatcha doin’?” Heidi asks me.
“Going through emails,” I tell her.
“Anything important?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Well...depends.”
“On what?”
“Your point of view,” I say. “It can be good news or bad. Depending on how you look at it.” I mimic a balance scale with my hands. “Good for the money. Bad that I’ll be on the road again.”
Heidi shuts her eyes. Disappointment slumps her shoulders, deflates her. She crosses her arms and leans against the jamb.
“Where to?”
“Cranbrook. For a company called Flatbow Lumber. They have about a hundred fifty employees.”
Heidi opens her eyes, frowns. “Is that in BC?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t been out that way for what, two years?”
It’s closer to three, but I don’t correct her.
“Yes,” I say. “Been a while.”
“When do you have to leave?”
“The board of directors wants to see me on Friday. I’ll need to catch a flight Thursday.”
“Do you have to go?”
No, I want to say. It sucks being away from home so much. But I can’t decline the cash. I can’t wreak havoc on my professional reputation, either. In this stagnant economy, companies look for ways to cut costs, to survive. My business thrives on their financial troubles.
Besides, I want to go to Cranbrook. It’s a quaint little city nestled in the mountains. It’ll be nice to see what’s changed since my last visit. Just a short thirty-minute drive up the highway brings you to Kimberley Nature Park. I imagine it’s beautiful there right about now with all the larches in fall color, yellowing the foothills. I’ve been to the park twice before and came up short both times. Maybe I’ll get lucky this trip. Third time’s the charm, right? I’m a glass-is-half-full type of guy.
I say to Heidi, “Can I afford not to? Can we?”
“The Treats In Our Streets is on this weekend,” she tells me. “I was hoping you’d be home so we could all go.”
I wince. Every year we take the girls to that pre-Halloween event the city holds. Different businesses participate and give out candy and stuff to the kids. I couldn’t care less about it, really. But the girls love it. This will be the first year I miss.
“Shit,” I say. “That’s here already.”
Heidi’s mouth stretches into a tight line. “Saturday’s the twenty-third.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know where this month went.”
“You’ve hardly been home but for a few days.”
“Have to take the work when I can get it,” I say. “It keeps us in this place, Kate. It pays the—”
“Who?”
“What?”
Heidi comes off the doorjamb, tilting her head to one side and narrowing her eyes. “You called me Kate.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, you did.”
My body tenses in the chair. I find my eyes pulled into Heidi’s piercing stare. I can’t believe the Freudian slip I just made. Stupid me.
“Who’s Kate?” she asks.
I scramble for an answer. “I don’t know. Must be the fatigue. My brain feels...it feels like it’s running on fumes right now. I can barely think straight.”
“Ah,” she says.
I watch her gaze move to the bandage on my cheek then back to my eyes. The wheels are turning in her head. I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“Did you and her get into a quarrel? Is that what really happened to your face?”
My jaw tightens. I feel myself getting a little too warm.
“Of course not,” I say. “You think I’m cheating on you or something?”
“Are you?”
“No.” I trace the sign of the cross on my chest. “Honest to God.”
Heidi smirks and raises one eyebrow higher than the other. “Funny. I’ve never known you to be religious.”
I give her a dismissive shrug. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t believe me. I know the truth. Too much on my mind lately with all this work.”
She crosses her arms, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. We remain like that for a few moments, looking across the room at one another.
Jaleesa calls out from the bathroom. “Mommy, we’re ready to get out now.”
“Be right there,” Heidi answers.
To me, she says, “Well, I better take them out of the tub before they turn into raisins.”
She turns to the hallway.
“Hey,” I say.
She stops and looks back over her shoulder.
“Are we good?” I ask.
She holds my eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”
I watch her leave. Then I shut my eyes and exhale a long breath.
I must’ve asked myself a thousand times since marrying Heidi: what will I do if she ever finds out about me? To see who I really am. To learn of the things I’ve done. If she ever came between my freedom and me, could I do it? Could I kill my wife, the mother of my daughters?
