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Hudson
I can feel her cold, heartless eyes on me. She watches my every move. I’d have to be deaf, dumb, blind and maybe even six feet in the ground to ever escape her. I asked for a divorce once. That went well. My wife of too many years to think about glared at me and reminded me of our ‘sacred’ vows. It won’t be long, I tell myself, heading back through the kitchen to the garage. I grab my briefcase and kiss my wife on the forehead first. It’s a rule in our house – I am not allowed to leave the place without kissing her goodbye. I look at it more like a hall pass. After years and years of fighting her, I don’t argue with the petty shit like ‘always kiss me goodnight.’ It is what it is. And after you’ve been married long enough you come to accept certain things. That’s how it is with Mary and me. At least, how it’s been. Things are about to change. Kate’s getting big and when Mary finds out? Well, if I don’t get out of here soon, I won’t be of the living. She’ll kill me the same way her dumb Ingrid will poor old Jack.
I back, too fast, out the driveway. Two woman livid with me is enough to give me a panic attack. If I pick some roses up for Kate, I can quickly quell that. Mary is another story. Her search history for arsenic, hammers, a passport and a thousand other things has me contemplating getting her another puppy. There’s no way that was research for another of her stupid stories. I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s the only way I trust a thing she feeds me. When she feeds it to the dog, Milo, I’m good. When she doesn’t? I tell her I’m not hungry. Too many times lately, I’ve gone to bed with my stomach rumbling. And, if I had more nerve, I’d just confront her on it. But things right now are strained enough. And frankly? If she knew what I’d been up to? Well, I can’t say I don’t deserve it. I am cheating on her. In many ways, I’m a monster no different than her.
It takes twenty minutes to get to Kate’s exit. Trying to remember a local florist, I scan the double lane street of the Eastside business district. Spotting Purple Daisies, not all that different than the old shop back in Escape, I make a quick U-turn to see what I can grab for Kate. It’s not my fault they refuse to schedule ultrasounds on Saturdays. I can’t help her family history and that she needs them weekly either. It’s not like I wouldn’t be perfectly willing to take time off on a weekday.
I try not to think about it. The future looms over me whether I like it or not. If I could get through the divorce gracefully, that would be different. But when your psychotic, delusional spouse has made it clear that they intend to be buried next to you—like it or not—it’s hard to get excited about anything. Daisy. It would be the perfect name. Wonder what Kate will think.
I park the car and quickly shoot off texts to Kate and Barbara my administrative assistant. With Kate, it’s how I’m going to be late. With Barbara, it’s to remind her to forward anything from Mary to the business line. She knows this, of course, but I always feel better reminding her. By now, Barbara’s stopped giving me the evil eye. She’s been around almost as long as my wife. And after the Christmas party six years ago where Mary made a scene over me buying drinks for one of the partners, well, Barbara gets it. She’s the one who told me to change Kate’s contact name to ‘Bob Ringly’ on my phone.
I don’t wait for either to respond. Instead, I run into the store and tell the florist to give me the biggest bouquet she’s got.
“Anything special?”
“Roses. Pink. Or anything, really. Just something nice, I guess.”
She smiles. “How sweet. Special lady?” She looks down at my left hand.
Fuck, forgot the ring. Thanks, lady. That would have gone well. Kate would have freaked the hell out. Casually, I pull my hand to my pocket where I use my thumb to slip the gold wedding band off. I smile before answering her. “Yes. Very.” Don’t forget to leave that in the car, dumbass.
“Anniversary?” she asks, turning toward a tall cooler where two dozen pre-made bouquets sit in waiting. My eyes land on the one with the ribbon that says ‘Rest Peacefully’ and I try not to think about my marriage. Nothing about my impending divorce will be peaceful. It will be more like one of my wanna-be bestseller wife’s horror novels and the gritty, bloody shit she writes about.
“No. Just a Saturday. I just want to do something nice. Can you add baby’s breath?”
“Would this work?” She says, pulling a batch of pink roses from the farthest corner.
“Yes. Perfect. But, again, can you add baby’s breath?”
“Certainly,” she smiles, picking up on it this time and grinning like she’s in on a secret. For a moment, I’m envious of her job.
Thankful she doesn’t ask more, I manage to pay for Kate’s flowers and get back to the car in under ten minutes. She hasn’t responded. She’s probably pissed I didn’t answer her call. Fabulous. Barbara, on the other hand, has assured me she’s “got it” and told me to “go have fun.” Entirely envious of Chuck, my assistant’s husband of forty years, I wonder what it might have been like if Mary hadn’t changed.
She wasn’t always this way. My wife was even fun once. Goal driven and with a mean swing, Mary could golf any of the partner’s pants off. Back then, she was independent too – an entrepreneur with a tiny tattoo that read ‘hustle’ on her hip, she was going places. But since giving up her independent clothing line and burying herself in her silly books, Mary had been bitter. Whatever. Don’t think about it. It was her decision, not yours. She’s the one who decided to throw it all away and turn into Edgar Allen Poe, Jr.
I don’t bother knocking. Kate never locks the door. Instead, with the flowers in my right hand and keys in my left, I barge right into her galley style kitchen.
“Hey babe! Sorry it took so long. Look what I brought.”
“Hudson! Hi! I didn’t think you’d ever show up. You’re never this late on a Saturday.”
Holy shit. Nagging never ends. Not with either of them. “It’s only ten. We’ve got the whole day ahead of us.”
“They are gorgeous,” she says, grabbing the flowers from my hand.
“Pink, for this one,” I say, pulling Kate into me and gently rubbing her stomach.
It is never lost on me what Kate is about to do for me. For years, I tried to reason with my wife and ask why the time wasn’t right. But Mary refused. She insisted that if she had a child, I’d love her less. I’d see her stretch marks and scars as ugly, giving me a reason to seek out other women. She’s been convinced I was cheating on her long before Kate – another ridiculous product of her imagination. Something to write about, I guess. In truth, Kate was the first I’d ever been with since Mary and me said ‘I do.’ But my wife would never believe it. No matter how many times I told her. Hell, she’d even accused me of sleeping with Barbara.
“I love them.”
“Baby breaths too.”
“Jesus. She’s a mess,” Kate says, pulling back from me.
My heart flips. “Who?”
“Mary.”
“Oh. Why?”
“How she doesn’t see it. She’s got you and doesn’t even realize how wonderful—”
“Correction. Had. She had me. I’m leaving. I’ll tell you again and again until you finally believe me.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Kate says, slipping out of my grip and moving toward the sink with the flowers.
“You don’t need to put water in. She, the lady at the flower shop, already took care of it.”
“Oh.”
“Just put that baggie of whatever it is in new water in a week. She said it’ll help them stay fresh longer.”
“Well, thank you. They are great. I’ve never had flowers from a real florist before. Normally, it’s the grocery store.”
We have no idea how we’ll spend the day. In reality, and because the town is medium-sized and people talk, we’d do what we usually did. We’d call in for take out and spend the afternoon in bed watching Netflix or head out for Chinese at Kate’s ridiculously cheap favorite restaurant at the other end of town. And in that time, no matter how short it was, I’d feel like I was alive again. By five or six, I’d have to untangle myself from the woman I love and make my way back to Mary; an obligation that was beginning to feel like death in all her glory. No. Don’t think that way. So many things to look forward to. The baby. Kate. A future.