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DAVID APPEARED FROM his shower refreshed. Most of the fear and anxiety he tried to mask was sluiced away with the hot water. He examined himself in the mirror, fixed several stray hairs that were poking up in the back, and smoothed his eyebrows. He splashed on some Dolce & Gabbana and brushed his teeth.
He put on a blue polo shirt and tucked it into a pair of khakis. He slipped his feet into a pair of L.L. Bean loafers and stepped out of the bathroom. A welcome wave of cool air hit him as he left the steam of the bathroom.
Susan was no longer in bed.
He went to the nightstand and collected his wallet and keys, stuffing them in his pockets. He sat down on the edge of the bed and listened for a moment. The evening was quiet but for the sound of crickets. He stood and walked to the patio and looked out.
She sat in a rattan chair, smoking. He watched her for a moment, exhaling blue smoke into the cool night. He decided to let her have her moment alone and he stepped away.
Back in the bedroom, he retrieved his suitcase from the closet and laid it on the bed. He pulled out some clothing, set the items aside and removed his firearm. He removed the empty magazine and replaced it with a full magazine. He pulled back the slide and jacked a round into the chamber. The sound of the slide was loud, and he looked guiltily over toward the patio, but Susan gave no sign of having heard his activities.
He laid the Glock 30 on the bed beside him. He rummaged back through the suitcase and pulled out a leather IWB holster and slid the Glock into it. The holster was molded to fit the weapon and it felt snug and secure. He slid the holstered pistol into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back and clipped it to his belt. He pulled on his windbreaker and walked to the bathroom where he examined himself. He could not see the telltale bulge of the weapon and he was pleased.
Although the firearm was purchased legally, and he held a valid Firearm Owner’s Identification card required by the state of Illinois, he did not hold a permit to carry. He decided to break the law because he felt in his gut that somehow this whole crazy situation was going to end badly.
He liked the feel and weight of the weapon. The texture of polymer against his palm made him feel powerful and invincible. With regret that pulled at his belly, he unclipped the holster and firearm and repacked them in his suitcase. By the time he repacked his bag and slid it into the closet Susan returned to the room. He kissed her cheek as she passed him on the way to the bathroom.
While she showered, he went out to the patio to get some fresh air. On the table in front of him stood a pad of hotel paper. He picked it up and tried to make sense of her drawings. Upon closer examination he saw that she had written the words “Alice down the rabbit hole” numerous times, fading the words into complex patterns of swirls and twists, into something that resembled a tornado.
He sat in the chair looking at the drawing and trying to comprehend the meaning. Perplexed, he set the pad down on the table and stood straight. He noticed five cigarette butts smashed down on the cement. He picked up three of them and read the brand name off the filter. They were all Susan’s. She’d smoked five cigarettes in the time it took him to shower and shave. She must have been chain smoking.
David picked up the remaining filters and carried them into the room where he dropped them into the wastebasket beneath the desk. He patted his hands together, shaking off any tobacco remains. She was getting dressed in front of the mirrors on the closet door. She had her underwear on, and she was buttoning a light blue blouse. She looked up and smiled as he came up behind her and put his arms around her.
“Let me help you with that,” he said as he nuzzled her neck playfully.
She let her hands fall to her sides and she watched as he buttoned her blouse from bottom to top, picking up where she left off. When he fastened the last button, his hands slid down and came to rest on her breasts. She brought her own hands up and put them over his.
“I love you, Sue,” he said.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her neck again and slid his hands away. “Finish getting dressed and I’m going to treat you to the best dinner we can find in this city.”
She smiled as she grabbed her slacks and slid her right foot in. “After dinner, can I have you for dessert?”
“We can skip dinner and you can have your dessert right now,” he said.
She thought it over for a moment and said, “No, I’ll wait. I’m kind of hungry now.”
“Why I oughta—” he said and grabbed her around the waist, blowing raspberries into her neck. She giggled and tried to run away; in the process she tripped because her feet were tangled in her pant legs. They both tumbled onto the carpet and David held his groin and rolled comically on the floor and she laughed even harder at that.
Eventually, when they were calm enough, she finished dressing without his help, and they left the room. It was 8:30 when they stopped at the front desk to ask the concierge where they could find a nice dinner. The man insisted they eat the complimentary dinner that was part of the suite package. Susan explained she had a craving for shellfish and the concierge finally steered them to a restaurant close to the hotel, called Barrone’s.
They found the restaurant with little problem and enjoyed a wonderful dinner of lobster, shrimp, salad, and bread sticks. It was midnight when they started to walk back, and David suggested they stop at a doughnut shop they were passing to get a cup of coffee. The night was cool, even for Texas, and she thought it a wonderful idea.
They ordered coffee and after a few sips, she said, “Have you noticed anything different about me?”
“Uh-oh,” he said and furrowed his brow. “Did you cut your hair or something?”
She smiled. “No, silly. I don’t mean anything about my appearance. About my personality. My behavior.”
“How do you mean . . . different?”
“You know,” she said and investigated her coffee, as if the answer were to be found within the brew.
He stared at her for a moment and set his coffee down. “You haven’t been howling at the moon or scratching at the kitchen door, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “You’ve been a little stressed lately, yes, but that’s to be expected. You’ve been through a lot and you’re going through something right now, although I’m not entirely sure what.”
“So, I haven’t been acting strangely?”
He sighed. He had an idea where this was leading, and he was not in a mood for it right now. They had spent a wonderful evening together and he wasn’t about to let her get into one of her funks. “Sue, you’re not strange. There is nothing wrong with you. There’s not one ounce of strangeness in your little body.”
“Ha,” she blurted out. “I’m full of strangeness. I’m a regular freak show, just like the kids at school used to say. Susan the Freak Mystique! For the price of admission, she’ll watch your loved one die. She’ll tell you all about it and make sure you don’t miss one gory detail—”
“Stop it, Sue.”
“—and you’ll feel like shit because you couldn’t do a damn thing about it—”
“—Susan, please. Stop it. Let’s go back to our room now—”
“—because it’s beyond her control. The fate of your child lies with the powers that be. Or she really could do something to intervene with fate, but she doesn’t. She’ll make you feel guilty for the rest of your life because she couldn’t save your fucking child!”
“Damn it,” he said loudly, slamming his fist down on the table, rattling her coffee and knocking his own over. “That’s enough!”
She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment and was shocked by his anger. Then realization set in and he saw it crash down on her like a load of bricks.
“David, I’m so sorry.”
He stood and pulled her close. He’d raised his voice and caught everyone’s attention. People were staring, and he immediately felt uncomfortable and embarrassed. “It’s okay, we’re going now,” he whispered to her.
He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and dropped it on the table. “Sorry,” he said to the waitress, gesturing with his hand at the mess he had made.
“It’s okay. Do you need some help with her?” the waitress asked.
“No,” he said. “Thank you.”
He pulled his wife closer and made for the door. He could feel their eyes on him, boring into his flesh, tearing into him like a pack of tigers digging into a freshly killed carcass.
You did it, he scolded himself. You lost control, and everyone knows it.
He moved more quickly now. All he wanted was to get out of there and away from the accusing eyes.