Chapter 32

One morning three weeks after his mother’s death, Jeff got up and looked in the mirror. The stubble on his face had turned into a beard and his hair was greasy from not being washed. He had lost weight and badly needed a shower.

Debbie had detached herself from the relentless misery of Jeff’s grieving and found ways to slip out of the house almost every day, spending time with Simon. Jeff had stopped questioning her, saying he understood she needed some time to herself. Each day she made up a different story about where she had gone, and he accepted her explanations. When she came home glowing from her sexual encounters with Simon, Jeff suspected nothing.

Debbie was with Simon on the day Jeff decided to go back to work. She left thinking that Jeff looked and smelled a lot like one of the bums she had seen wheeling a shopping cart full of old clothes. Debbie could not believe his decline from someone who had always taken great pride in his designer clothes and fastidious appearance. She spent her two hours of freedom in bed with Simon, and came home to find Jeff up, dressed and looking much like his former self, only thinner. He had shaved off his beard, washed his hair, and put on one of his best sweaters and a pair of Versace slacks. On the kitchen table was a cup of coffee and half a sandwich that he had made for himself. More surprising to Debbie was the fact that Jeff was playing the cello, Saint-Saens’ beautiful and melodic Le Cygne (The Swan), which she recognized immediately. He stopped a minute after she walked in.

“Jeff, don’t stop. That sounds wonderful. I can’t believe I’ve never heard you play before.”

“I put it aside. Mother discouraged my playing. She said I’d never make it as a professional cellist, and why would I need to anyway - since she had given me financial security. It was a major sore point between us. I knew she was wrong. It was what I wanted most in the world, but I let her win the argument, and she increased the trust fund. I sold out on my dream for the sake of my goddam trust fund.” He was angry for the first time since his mother’s death. A good thing, Debbie thought. The beginning of his road to recovery.

“Well I want to hear you play more.” In their two years together, Jeff had not told her that being a cellist had been his dream. She knew he had played well, as it had been mentioned during the lecture she attended when they first met. But she wasn’t aware it had been so important to him. It made Debbie wonder again why he seemed to be missing his mother so much. Maybe that will end now. He’ll remember how she controlled everything in his life, she thought.

“I’ve spoken with my editor and I’m going back this evening. The orchestra is playing, and it’s time to function again. Thank you for standing by me during this time. I know it wasn’t easy.” He packed up the cello, kissed her and said, “I’ll be home before midnight.”

Debbie was annoyed. Had she known, she could simply have spent the next five hours with Simon. Now what am I supposed to do? Still, it was good to see her husband’s improvement. She’d almost forgotten what he was like. It was as if her primary allegiance had switched over to Simon. She would have to switch it back, turn the dial back 180 degrees from Simon to Jeff. Can I do this? After all, Jeff was her real life. Simon was her fantasy world, admittedly turned all too real. Maybe it was time to talk to Catherine and ask for her guidance. That’s how she would spend her evening. This time they would not go to the pub.

Catherine was glad to hear from Debbie. She had backed away and sensed that Debbie was angry with her. She had sent a condolence card following Genevieve’s death, but not visited. Now Catherine was feeling guilty for abandoning Debbie. “I need your help,” Debbie said. “I’m coming right over. And no Irish Pub this time.”

Catherine was shocked to hear that Debbie had taken up with Simon. Her evening with Don had been a one-night stand, although “a damn good one,” she told Debbie. “But what is wrong with you? I thought you had everything you wanted - Jeff, no mother-in-law, a fortune of your own, and all the time in the world to enjoy it. What do you need Simon for?”

Debbie explained what had happened over the past few weeks. “You must drop Simon before Jeff finds out,” Catherine said. “Are you trying to ruin your life? Are you crazy?”

“I can’t resist him,” Debbie said. “We are so good together, and not just in bed. I think I may be in love with him.”

“That’s impossible! He’s not the person you think he is, Debbie. The one thing I learned from Don is that he and Simon are drug dealers - and not just pot,” she added. “Cocaine, heroine, meth. You need to get away from him as fast as you can. Does he know who you really are?”

“I don’t think so. He told me he was an artist, and a teacher,” Debbie said.

“He does paint, but how do you think he earns a living?” Catherine asked.

“How do you know that Don was telling the truth? This can’t be true!” Debbie said.

“I know. I saw the evidence at his place, and not even hidden away. Why would he make that up? How is Simon in that apartment, and somehow available every time you want to see him? Does he get a lot of phone calls while you are with him?” Catherine asked. “You must end it, immediately. Don’t ever go there again. You’ll end up in jail if there’s a raid and you’re there. Use your brains!”

Debbie was panicky. She had to admit that Simon’s cell phone rang steadily while she was with him. Generally he would turn off the ringer while they were together, but he was frequently checking caller ID. When she asked him about it, he either said it was a wrong number or a friend. And sometimes the downstairs doorbell rang while she was with him, but he always ignored it, telling her it was a stranger attempting to be ‘buzzed’ into the building. She had never thought of it as significant. Could Catherine be right? She wouldn’t know how to end their affair. She wanted to confront Simon and find out if this was true. If it was, she would figure out a way to stop seeing him.

Debbie cut her visit short and took the long route home, walking through all the side streets until finally arriving at her place. She made herself a cup of tea and opened a new box of chocolate chip cookies, eating four in quick succession. Even though it was late, she called her mother, just to hear her voice. They talked for a few minutes, until her mother confessed to Debbie that she had been asleep and would rather talk to her in the morning.

Debbie struggled with what to do, finally deciding that she would call Simon the minute Jeff left for work the next day, go there, and confront him without telling him where she had heard about the drugs. She would look into his eyes and she would know if he was lying.

She fell asleep before Jeff came home. The next morning, he was completely occupied with his new story, and showed no signs of depression. He told her that the wave of murders seemed to be over, and the mood in the orchestra was much more positive. He had a lot of work to finish and would be going in early, about 2 p.m. and planned to be out until 9 or 10 p.m. Debbie held him and said she understood. She had plenty to keep herself busy.

Jeff left at 2 p.m. Debbie was in Simon’s apartment by 2:30. Their meetings now had a rhythm. They would talk for half an hour, learning a little more about each other at every visit. Then they would move into the bedroom, Simon would draw the curtains, both would undress, and they would make love for about two hours. Sometimes they would fall asleep, and Simon always set the alarm for 15 minutes before the time Debbie had to leave. The last few times, they had declared their love for each other. Simon had asked her to leave her husband and live with him. She gently refused, saying it was impossible.

This visit would be different. Debbie said she needed to talk to Simon about something serious. “I’ve heard that you’re dealing drugs, Simon. Is this true?”

“Oh, Debbie. How could you even think such a thing?”

“Is it true, Simon? If we are going to continue, I need to know the truth. Don’t lie to me, or we’re finished.” She expected him to lie. She looked straight into his eyes.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Debbie wasn’t angry. She was confused. She had always hated drugs - the whole drug culture. She couldn’t reconcile this with her lover. Yet, she couldn’t take Catherine’s advice and leave Simon.

“Simon, how could you? Why are you doing this?”

“How am I supposed to live? I barely make a few dollars as an artist. One of my friends got me started, and it seemed an easy way to solve my problems. So what’s the big deal if I sell drugs to people who want them, and would get them from somebody else if they didn’t get them from me? And no, I never use them, never touch them.”

“It’s ugly, and disgusting. It’s against the law, and it’s dangerous,” Debbie said, for the moment completely forgetting what she had done to dispose of her mother-in-law. Debbie thought of herself as a moral person. She had justified the murder, and had justified her affair with Simon. After all, it began because Jeff had ignored her. She needed to feel close to somebody. This wasn’t immoral at all. Simon was good for her self-esteem. He made her feel attractive. If she felt good about herself, she would treat Jeff better, and she would be a better mother when the time came. It was all crystal clear in Debbie’s mind.

“Well, Simon, if it’s just because of the money, I can probably help you. I do have some money of my own.”

Simon moved closer to her. “You are the most wonderful person I’ve ever known.”

He kissed her on the neck and her body was tingling. “I can’t ask you to give me money. It would take a lot to get out of my situation. I’m deeply in debt,” Simon explained.

“How much do you owe?” Debbie asked, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his chest. “And if you are just selling and not using, why are you in debt? I’m not an idiot - it’s just supply and demand. You sell; you make money. You could only be in debt if you are using.”

“Look, I owe almost $50,000,” he said. “I’m not using. This girl who was modeling for a painting found my supply and stole it.”

“That’s bullshit. How much could she take from you, and how?” Debbie said. She wasn’t falling for his story. She was ready to walk out.

“For God’s sake, I’m telling you the truth. I found her on the street. She was pretty, and I asked her to pose for me. I offered to pay her in cocaine. She found my supply and took whatever she could stuff in her purse while I was in the kitchen. She left, and I never saw her again.”

“Your supplier gave you credit?” Debbie asked, incredulous. She knew nothing about how this worked.

“I had worked with him for ten years, and never a problem. Pretty standard - sell now and pay later. But this time I blew it. He’s given me two weeks, or I’m dead.

“Look, no point in talking about this any more. I’m sure it’s more money than you have. It’s my problem, not yours.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Debbie said. “I have money. I have enough money to help you,” she said. “But if I do, you have to promise me you will break out of this horrible situation. You have to end it.” She knew he was a good guy stuck in a bad situation. He was an artist - there was so much more to Simon than she had imagined when they first met in the pub. It seemed like so long ago. Just a few weeks, but it was a lifetime to Debbie. Simon had talent, and depth. He didn’t have Jeff’s sort of emotional baggage and roller-coaster moods.

For the first time, they shared cooking and eating a meal. Debbie was in no hurry. She had hours until Jeff would be home, and after their meal, Debbie explained her situation, telling Simon that she and Jeff had inherited a lot of money and she could bring him $50,000 in cash the next day. She and Simon went to bed, Debbie knowing that Simon would keep his promise. He loved her and she was his rescuer. Until that day, they had never had time to make love without keeping an eye on the clock. They were swept away in a passionate high that Debbie had never experienced before. Finally, they both fell asleep and did not wake up until 10:30 p.m. Simon had forgotten to set the alarm clock.

Seeing it was dark outside, Debbie panicked. It was possible that Jeff would be home at 11. She dashed out as quickly as she could, running all the way back home. She took a deep breath as she opened the door and saw that the apartment was completely dark. “Jeff?” she called out. There was no reply. Thank God, she said to herself, quickly turning on lights in the living room, kitchen, and bedroom, and throwing some leftovers in the microwave and putting a small portion on a plate, giving the appearance that she had been home all evening. She took several stacks of folded clothing out of her drawers and placed them in neat piles on the bed, as though she had just done the laundry. She disposed of her clothing in the hamper and got into the shower.

Five minutes later, while she was in the shower, she heard the front door slam shut. It was Jeff. He heard the water running and came directly into the bathroom.

“Hello, darling,” he said. “It looks like you’ve been busy. Is there any dinner left? I never got to it - work was crazy.”

“Yes, plenty left,” she said.

“On second thought, I’ve been missing you,” he said. He took off his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor, and stepped into the shower. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said. He stood and looked in her eyes, the warm water surrounding them both. Jeff seemed in a trance for a moment. Then he kissed Debbie. He had an erection, his first in the weeks since his mother’s death. He moved in close and pushed Debbie against the wall of the shower. Debbie could tell that Jeff was back. This felt strange to her, as she was now used to the feel of Simon inside her. And she was exhausted from her afternoon, had used up all her passion, and was no longer in the mood. Jeff did not notice that anything was wrong. He finished and said, “Mmm, that was wonderful,” as though he had just had a hamburger after a month as a vegan. He got out of the shower first, and Debbie stayed there a few minutes longer, wondering what to do now.

She had been perfectly clear as to the nature of her life. She and Jeff would have a wonderful marriage, and a baby sometime soon. They would travel in luxury and live in a spectacular place, either Genevieve’s or a new one. And she would keep Simon on the side. But now she felt totally confused, as though the balance of everything had turned upside down. By the time she finished her shower and got into bed, Jeff was sound asleep. He looked so content, for the first time in weeks. She stayed on her side of the bed, and fell asleep after thinking through all the options one more time and determining that she had no way of solving her problems.