The Eternal Engagement

When all failed and he felt there was no way out, he’d call his mother.

Tempted to phone Mona first, he sat in his recliner contemplating how he could make her life hell until she’d come home where she belonged. A wife’s place was beside her husband. What man would want her if he knew what she’d done?

For better or worse was what Mona had legally agreed to at the courthouse. One option was to frame her like he’d done Sarah. That would be extreme yet effective, but Mona wouldn’t go down without a knock-down, rake-his-ass-over-the-coals-and-drag-him-into-the-quicksand-pit-too kinda fight. He hated to admit it, but Mona had become better than him at his own job. His wife was one step ahead of brilliant.

Mona was many things, but she wasn’t a passive woman. Trying to frame her would no doubt eventually backfire on him. Cutting off her credit cards and cell phone wouldn’t equate to cutting her off. He didn’t make enough money to make her wealthy, but in addition to making her financially independent, Steven let Mona keep all the money she made on her nine-to-five jobs. Steven never wanted Mona Lisa to want for anything except him.

“This is fucked up!” he cried out loud, then turned the whiskey bottle upside down.

Steven held his phone, retrieved his list of favorites, then dialed the first number.

“Hey, Buttercup. I was just thinking about you. Everything okay?” his mom asked.

“I guess, Ma.”

“Well, if you have to guess, tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t lost that good job at the oil company, have you?”

Any job paying over fifty thousand dollars was considered good to most people in the South. If his mother knew how much he made bounty hunting, she’d swear he was working for the godfather himself. If that were her guess, she’d be close to being right.

“No, Ma.” He wasn’t lying. They didn’t have a chance to fire him because they’d never hired him. Suit. Tie. Meetings. Sitting behind a desk in an office with a dreary view of downtown Bakersfield wouldn’t have lasted three minutes.

The upside was Bakersfield was a bounty hunter’s paradise. Probation offenders, drug dealers ditching court while out on bail, and the long list of everyday citizens with unknown warrants were one step away from having to post bail. One step away from skipping out on bail. They put him one step away from getting another contract. With a population of almost three hundred forty thousand, the residents made his job easy because most offenders in Bakersfield never left Bakersfield.

“Then what’s the problem? Is it one of those guy things? I can put your daddy on the phone. You don’t have men hitting on you, do you?”

Steven laughed. He didn’t have anything against same-sex relationships. Business was profitable and he didn’t discriminate. When it came to slapping on the handcuffs, he didn’t care about gender or sexual preferences.

“No, Ma. I’d rather talk to you. Mona left me and I’m not sure when or if she’s coming back.”

“Aw, Buttercup, is that all? I knew this was coming,” his mom said. “I’m surprised it took her so long.”

What did she mean by that? How could she have known? Why hadn’t his mother warned him?

Steven frowned, sat on the edge of the recliner, stared at Mona’s picture on the wall. Looking at his wife’s picture made him hate her more. But he wasn’t angry with Katherine Clinton. In a way, they were aiding one another. Katherine could use the money and he needed her assistance. He owed Katherine ten grand for using her influence to personally interview Detective Davenport, but he never wanted the McKenny story to make national news. He had to find out why she’d done that. Had to make sure Davenport hadn’t linked Calvin’s murder to the other two. Maybe he should’ve used a different bank account for each of the cashier’s checks.

“But, Ma. I’m a good husband. I’ve been nothing but good to Mona. You know that. I don’t deserve this.” He wanted to add the word shit, but Steven never cursed while speaking to or in the presence of his parents.

“You men are all alike. This isn’t about you. Sometimes a woman needs to find herself. Mona went from her mother’s house to yours. She married you the same day you proposed. Except for when she was in college, she’s never lived on her own, and even then you said she had a roommate. I’m surprised it took her this long. Y’all been knowing each other since second grade. And then you go and drag her all the way cross country where she doesn’t have friends. Give her space to find out who she is. And you need to take advantage of her time away and do the same.”

Maybe his mother had been drinking too. Steven eyed Mona’s 24 x 36 framed picture on the living room wall. “How much time?” He feared the longer Mona stayed gone, she’d get comfortable being away from him and never come back.

“Six months tops.”

Six what? To find out who she was? For real? And he should do the same? He’d never taken time to figure himself out. Didn’t see the point in doing that. “Mona needs to come home now, Ma.”

“How long she been gone?”

Steven checked the time on his cell, then answered, “An hour.”

His mother laughed. “Buttercup, you’re funny. Mona loves you. She’ll come back to you. You didn’t hit her, did you? We raised you better than that. Please tell me you didn’t—”

He interrupted, “No, Ma. You know I’d never do that.”

Steven never saw his parents fight. They never argued, at least not around him. His parents weren’t the norm in Selma. A lot of the Southern men abuse their women and their wives. He loved Mona too much to physically hurt her. But if she didn’t come back, he would not have mercy on her soul.

Six months? His mother never gave him bad advice. He could give Mona that much space hoping she’d be back in a week. One hundred and eighty-two days from today—he counted the days on his phone, then calendared the exact date and time. If she hadn’t come back by 12:00 a.m. Thanksgiving Day, her time was up.

No matter where she was, he’d find her. In six months, she might not matter.

“You want me and your dad to come visit you?” his mom asked, not waiting for his answer. “We’ll be there Memorial Day. Your daddy needs to get out the house anyway. We need to do something with all this money you keep sending us besides adding on rooms to the house. And you need to keep a clear head. Now, don’t get so upset you lose that good job with the oil company. If you do, Mona will leave you for sure. You know how her mama raised her not to be with a man that can’t take care of her. And you’re not gonna embarrass us. No, siree. Give that girl six months to be on her own. Be patient. She’ll come back to you, Buttercup. I love your daddy to death, but I sure wish I hadn’t gone straight from my parents’ house to his. Speaking of death, you saw the news today? I can’t believe that Sarah McKenny girl was arrested for killing her—”

“Ma, I’ve gotta go find Mona. See y’all Memorial Day. Love you. Tell Dad I love him too. Bye.”