Andrea
The expectation was I’d stay, have dinner, and be immersed in the family. I loved sharing Christmas day with Roy, but my head was killing me. I swallowed two Advil with the help of a Diet Coke and tried to figure out how to get through the rest of the day without Benjamin and me coming to some understanding about Eugene’s tape.
On the other hand, he and I were being civil. His demeanor toward me wasn’t cutthroat like it had been. I guessed it couldn’t be or he wouldn’t have invited me here today.
Timothy and Maryann had brought their karaoke radio. I laughed in spite of my headache when quiet, unassuming Mr. Elrod sang “What’s Love Got to Do With It” complete with hip switching strolls across the floor and phantom hair shakes.
When I dried my eyes, I knew love had everything to do with it. At the end of the day, nothing else mattered. I needed to find Benjamin and convince him of that.
Coming to the top of the stairs, I could see the bathroom door ajar, but Benjamin’s door was closed. I knocked on his door and opened it at the same time. “Benjamin?”
Benjamin and Marissa were melded together. For a minute, they looked like a mutant life form. I emitted a squealing sound. They broke apart and looked at me like I was the two-headed, four-armed monster.
I was cemented to the spot. Oh, this must be a dream, that’s why I can’t move. But then, why can’t I wake up?
Both had their clothes on, but she was redder than Mrs. Sherwood’s shingles rash, and he was breathing as if his air supply was in jeopardy. The outline on his pants leg made me think of polish sausage—grilled.
Finally, my legs decided to work. Images swam. I got my coat, jumped into my car and was half a block past the first stop sign before I realized I’d left my purse. Shoot.
I pulled to the curb and cried into the steering wheel. I’d left my purse, my fiancé, my nephew, my whole life back there. The pages of my life had come undone with no stapler in sight.
The car door flew open, and my head flew up. Benjamin, coatless and panting, slid in next to me, taking the key out of the ignition in one swift motion.
“Andrea, you don’t need to drive when you’re this upset. Nothing happened. I mean, the kiss, but … she said she wanted to talk to me and it just happened.”
Thirty silent seconds passed.
“I’m calmer now,” I said. “I left my purse. I think it’s near the mantel next to that gold flowerpot.”
“Your purse can wait. We need to talk about this.”
“Forgive me, I don’t know where to begin. What is Marissa doing here in the first place? Is that what you two did the whole time she lived with you? What would have happened if I hadn’t interrupted?”
His hands floated up and down in the stay calm gesture. “Andrea, it was a kiss. There was nothing before it, and there would have been nothing after it. My body reacted. Physical reactions happen the mind can’t control.”
“Do you control where you put your lips?”
“She kissed me.”
“How about your tongue? Do you have any say-so over it whatsoever?”
He shook his head and said nothing.
“It’s payback, isn’t it? You invited me here today so you could humiliate me. I admit it was me on the tape, not both times, but the second time was me. I swear Eugene did something to make it look recent. The fake ring, the sweater—props. They were all props, Benjamin. Eugene wanted to hurt me, and he succeeded, but nothing compared to how you’ve hurt me today.”
“No, Andrea, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re wrong. I didn’t set out to humiliate you. That’s ridiculous. Who has time for some soap opera stuff like that?”
“Obviously you do. You sent for Marissa after you saw the tape.”
“No, I didn’t. Sharon invited her. She probably thought Roy would get a kick out of seeing her again.”
Could he sit there, looking innocent and lie to my face? “And if I ask Marissa about all of this, she’ll tell me the same story?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go ask her now.”
“I don’t want to do that. She’d be mortified. She’s a kid. She may have the body of a woman and a woman’s desires, but she’s a kid. It was only a kiss.”
I nodded. He cared more about Marissa than he cared about me. “Okay. Give me my keys and get out. I’ll pick up my purse tomorrow.”
“Andrea?” He stared at me for a long second. “Whatever. Take your keys.” He plopped them down in my waiting hand. “I’ll bring you your purse later tonight.” He slammed the car door harder than he needed to.
I put the car in reverse, turning around, gauging how close I could get to the small, dark sedan behind me. I didn’t dawn on me at first, but then something clicked. The car behind me was small and gray. I got out, walked behind the vehicle to read the name. Camry. A dolphin gray Camry, the right model, year and color.
“Benjamin!”
“What?” he yelled back.
“Come here, please!”
“What? Did you hit it?” He asked upon his return, staring at the car like I was staring at it. “What’s the matter?”
“Do you know whose car this is?”
“I think it’s Cecil’s. Why?”
“Because one of the women who lives on the street where Carolyn was killed saw a Camry this year and color that night she was killed. Doesn’t this look like a 1992 or 1991?”
He looked at it again and shrugged. “But, what are you saying? You think Cecil had something to do with Carolyn’s murder? That’s even more ridiculous than this soap opera gimmick you accused me of. Who haven’t you blamed for the murder, Andrea?”
I could see I’d get no sympathy, let alone empathy here. Rolling my eyes, I got back in my car.
“Oh, so I’m dismissed again?” Benjamin shouted. “Wait a second, will you?”
No, I would not. I drove away, engine gunning.