Body of Ash

by Bonnie Wheeler

  Maybe she should just let Brian go. Her husband was old and fat and trying to hold onto his youth. Was that why this woman appealed to him? Did she fill him with life in a way Angela never could?

  But what about his job?

  A preacher couldn’t have an affair. The church would not allow it. He had to lead his flock by example and turn his back on sin. Once his adultery was discovered, whether Angela was the one who told them or not, the elders would fire his ass. Surely, he had put two and two together.

  I bet he didn’t even know she was coming.

  When her husband was asking the church for a raise, he would get worked up to put on a grand show. When Betty and Jim Jones, his mother and father, were coming to visit from down south, he would pace with anxiety. If Brian planned on Marge dropping by to announce their relationship, he would’ve been half out of his mind by now.

  No, this is an unexpected visit for him, too.

  Turning her head towards the living room, she called, “Darling, we have company.”

  Angela stared back at Marge. She hoped the woman was beginning to feel ridiculous but doubted she was smart enough. Marge just kept chewing her lower lip. As her husband entered the foyer, Marge’s posture straightened and a nervous smile popped onto her face.

  Angela turned to Brian. Holding an empty wine glass, he stood in the doorway with his mouth half open. His eyes darted between Angela and Marge, searching for something to say.

  Angela wondered why she or any other woman ever wanted him. His unbuttoned Ralph Lauren shirt revealed white pasty skin and the pot belly he tried to hide by wearing pinstripes. Not overly handsome or smooth talking, he wasn’t a prize, at least not anymore.

  “Well, aren’t you happy to see me?” Marge rushed, her voice shriller than usual. She took a couple of steps towards Brian. “I heard I missed you when you came by earlier.”

  “You should have called.” Brian reprimanded, but his usual authority was missing. “It’s late.” A light sweat broke out across his forehead. Turning, he gave Angela an apologetic look.

  I hate you for this.

  Brian tried offering her a reassuring smile. “Angie, you can head on up to bed. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Marge gasped, “I think she needs to hear this.” Nervously, she shoved her hands in her back pockets, only to take them back out again.

  “No,” Brian spoke louder. “You should not have come here.” His eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a straight line.

  “It’s okay,” Angela replied, refusing to budge. “She must need something.”

  Angela knew her presence was driving Brian crazy. He wanted to sweep the whole ugly mess under the carpet by sending her to bed and dismissing his indiscretion. The sheen of perspiration across his forehead was nothing compared to the flush spreading across his cheeks. He was uncomfortable and she refused to make it easy for him.

  Giving Marge a bitter glare, Angela’s voice lacked warmth. “Why are you here?”

  Marge fixed her attention on Brian. Despite the warning shake of his head, she stammered, “Brian and I want to be together. We’re in love.”

  I’m surprised the bimbo had the courage to say it.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Brian sputtered, striding toward the door. “She’s insane.” He swung it open, “You need to leave.”

  Marge refused to budge. “No. The news has already gotten out. That’s why I’m here.” She casted a pleading look at Brian, but he refused to meet her stare. “We don’t have to pretend. You can be with me.”

  From deep in her chest, Angela felt a sudden pressure. All of the shame he had put her through was giving way to rage. “You think he loves you? What makes you different than any other slut he’s wasted his time on?” Angela’s voice was beginning to shake and she knew she was going to lose control. Batting back the tears that wanted to fall, she forbade herself to show them pain.

  I cannot let them win.

  “Angela,” Brian implored. “It’s not what you think. She’s nothing to me.” He waved his arms around wildly. Never before did he look like he was trying to deliver a more impassioned sermon. “She’s making this up because she’s crazy.”

  Marge’s body began to shudder, “You know you don’t mean it. You know you love me.” A sob escaped her lips. “Katie told people from school. Everyone will know.”

  Angela clamped her arms tightly at her sides.

  So, Brian isn’t in love?

  With his decision to send Rachel away, Angela assumed he was. It seems Marge thought so, too. She should pity the woman for being stupid enough to equate sex with love, but didn’t. She resented them both.

  Despite her antagonism towards Brian, a sliver of relief worked its way through her. If Brian wasn’t planning on leaving her, she wouldn’t be on the verge of divorce and needing a backup plan.

  Maybe I should rethink Rachel’s schooling.

  Angela had long since lost any attachment to her husband, but she was accustomed to the life they had in the small Litchfield County town. Rachel had grown up in the house and Angela appreciated the small church community. When Rachel was little, Angela enjoyed being able to get her on the bus in the morning and being the first one her daughter saw when she returned home in the afternoon. Even Angela’s mother approved of the way she kept her home immaculate and Rachel well cared for – and that seldom happened.

  I have to clean up this mess.

  Angela raised her chin, nodding towards the door. “People will know that you and your worthless daughter are deceitful bitches.”

  Marge paled. “What?”

  “By tomorrow, everyone will learn how you came to our home, after we so lovingly welcomed you into our church family, and threatened to blackmail us with this sickening accusation unless we paid you off.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Brian cut in.

  Ignoring her husband, Angela continued to address Marge. Her words came out cool and steady to ensure Marge understood.

  “Because of our firm commitment in the Lord, we will ask the community to pray for your sins and to not judge you too harshly.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Streaks of black mascara ran down her cheeks. Marge looked more used up than usual.

  Angela glanced at her husband. His posture slumped in defeat.

  Brian met her stare and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  You’re sorry you were caught.

  Turning her back on him, she headed for the stairs. “Get your whore out of my house.”

  13

  BRIAN

  Thursday 9:10 PM

  Brian stepped onto the porch. Scanning the darkness, he watched for signs of an audience. Marge needed to pull herself together. The neighbors didn’t miss much. If the two were witnessed in an emotional state, rumors would never die down.

  “You let her talk to me like that,” she whimpered. Burrowing her face into his shoulder, he could feel the moisture from her nose and eyes seep through the linen fabric of his shirt. He hated when women did that.

  “Keep your voice down.” Brian tugged her fingers from their clasp on his sleeve. “We don’t want to cause a scene.” Voices carried at night. He needed her to get a grip.

  Marge’s face crumpled.

  “You let her call me a whore.” As another sob racked her thin frame, Marge fumbled for the smooth railing. Brian grabbed her elbow – steadying her.

  “What did you expect?” he whispered. “That I could just end my marriage because you thought the time was fitting?”

  Shaking him off her arm, she glared, “Marriage? That’s what you call your relationship to that bitch?” With her eyes wide, Marge stared at the front door, weary that Angela could come rushing out.

  He rubbed his temples.

  Damn, she’s exasperating.

  “You don’t understand. With my position in town, I can’t just leave my wife.” He stepped closer, wanting to placate her. “These things are complicated.” Trailing his hand down her spine, he couldn’t help but notice t
hat the thin material of her tank didn’t leave much to the imagination.

  Fishing through the black vinyl bag she carried, Marge pulled out a wad of tissues. Dabbing her eyes, she smiled. “I can be your wife. I know how to make you happy.”

  As Marge sidled up to him, Brian inhaled her fragrance. He remembered it from the night they screwed in the back of the Escalade. She had been wearing a leopard print thong and the memory still got him going. He loved the way she made him feel like a man, desiring every inch of his body. Both of his brothers used to call him gay. Still in Georgia, they were the ones stuck with fat heifers for wives. After years of making his childhood hell, Brian gloated on their misery. They would never know what it was like to lay a woman as wild as Marge.

  “You don’t need to be my wife to make me happy.”

  Marge laced her hand around his and guided his fingers across her cool skin. His entire body hummed in response as she sent him exploring under her tank and around the full mound of her breast. As he touched her nipple, a sigh escaped her lips. She had lovely breasts and he wanted to savor them again.

  All of her again…

  His eyes traveled back up to her luscious mouth. She tantalized him by moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue.

  Brian pulled away. He desired her, but couldn’t do anything about it now. Angela was getting ready for bed and he would have a lot of explaining to do.

  “Now isn’t a good time for me,” he rasped. With Marge tempting him, he no longer felt the chill in the air.

  “Tomorrow?” she asked, fishing for her keys.

  “Maybe.”

  She leaned in closer and kissed him vigorously.

  “No ‘maybe.’ Tomorrow.”

  As Marge headed down the walkway, Brian couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips. She darted across the street, disappearing into her parked car.

  He should have made a clean break. He should have insisted it was over.

  But she’s so damn hot.

  Stepping back into the house, he found Angela sitting at the bottom of the staircase. Her long hair spilled around her face. From the way she held her head in her hands, he knew she wasn’t going to just let this slide.

  God forbid she waits until tomorrow to have me castrated.

  Glancing up at him, Angela’s face blanched.

  “Rachel’s gone,” she choked.

  14

  MARGE

  Thursday 9:25 PM

  As Marge unlocked the apartment’s deadbolt, she could hear the thrumming bass of her stereo’s sound system. When she left, Katie was lounging across the couch, watching a “Teen Mom” marathon on MTV. Marge told her not to wait up, but from the scent of smoke that floated into the hallway – it was clear her daughter made other plans.

  Dropping her purse on the rocking chair next to the door, Marge glanced around the cramped space. She hated the living room’s dated shag carpet, but was proud of the decent sofa her lawyer insisted Williston give her after the divorce. She saved for the coffee table and lamps through K-Mart’s layaway plan, but what really gave the place panache was her Precious Moments Collection. It was on display in the corner of the room in a mirrored curio cabinet.

  The apartment was only temporary until Marge could upgrade her and Katie to a nicer home. A home like Brian’s on Maple Avenue would be perfect. Until then, she and Katie would need to start acting the part of a preacher’s family. It was time they showed others just how high-society they were.

  Following the trail of clothing across the floor, Marge peeked into Katie’s room. Propped against a boy, her daughter wore only a bra and panties. A quick glance at the male, revealed his perfect tanned skin in nothing but boxer shorts. The two were sharing a joint.

  “Can’t you knock?” Katie’s voice sputtered, blowing out smoke.

  “What? Like you?” Marge teased. Strolling to the CD player, she turned down the volume.

  She saw a worried look pass the boy’s face as he tugged a sheet over his legs, but Marge wasn’t mad. Teenagers needed to have fun and as long as they did it in the safety of someone’s home, she was fine with it.

  Feeling the weight of the evening, Marge needed to unwind.

  Crossing the room, she pushed a pile of Katie’s clothes onto the floor and sat down onto a plush chair. She motioned to the boy to pass her the doobie. Now that she had a clearer view of his face, she recognized him as Tony Shaw’s son.

  Another old family from town…

  Marge took a drag and leaned back closing her eyes. From her job at the florist, she knew all of the well-to-do families in town and that was why she thought she belonged with Brian. He could give her everything she ever wanted and she would give him connections. Brian was motivated and wasn’t afraid of chasing down a new challenge. When Marge gave him a few hints that she was open to an affair, he wasted no time in coming to her bed. She liked that about him.

  The only thing now was Angela – she was like the stacks of paperwork at Staples where Marge worked before marrying Williston. The old wife needed to be filed away before Brian could begin anew.

  That or put through the shredder.

  “Mom,” Katie’s voice cut through her musings. “I’m talking to you.”

  Marge gazed over at her daughter. It amazed her how similar the two looked. “Sorry.”

  “I thought you were spending the night with Brian at Ho Jo’s,” Katie murmured.

  “I decided to make him work for it a little longer.”

  Wanting to give the teens their privacy, Marge inhaled one last time and passed the joint to her daughter. The pot tasted like burning straw, but the effect was marvelous. As she stood, her entire body felt much more relaxed. Her eyes darted to Tony’s boy, and gave an approving nod to Katie. He already had broad shoulders and a muscled chest. Coupled with his dark hair and blue eyes, he was going to be a good looking man.

  It’s a shame Brian can’t stop over, but at least Katie’s having fun.

  “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. Make sure you lock up before you go to bed.”

  Closing the door behind her, Marge padded to her room. Only slightly bigger than Katie’s, she had just enough space for her queen size bed and two bureaus. Switching on her lava lamp, Marge carefully removed each piece of jewelry, and placed them delicately in a ceramic dish.

  Next to her bed, she kept a bottle of Sauza tequila. It never tasted good without salt and lemon, but she had grown to appreciate the smoothness at bedtime. Opening the bottle, she placed it to her lips and took a slow sip. The booze swirled across her tongue, settling her for a peaceful sleep.

  As she pulled off her clothes and slipped under the faux fur covers, she imagined what Brian’s bedroom looked like. With Angela’s taste, it surely was drab. Out of all the times they snuck off to have sex, he had never once suggested they go back to his place.

  Closing her eyes, she tried imagining what it would be like to unpack her things in his room. She imagined a four poster bed, maybe even the kind that was so high in the air she would need a little step stool to climb up on it. Of course, she’d purchase new sheets and a comforter. Partial to animal prints and satin, she’d want something to remind him each day that he no longer slept with a stiff.

  Smiling, Marge’s thoughts began to drift off until all she could recall was the soft, pliable leather of Brian’s SUV.

  15

  KATIE

  Thursday 9:45 PM

  “You’re beautiful.” In small circles, Davey traced his finger around her naval. His touch tickled, causing the fine blonde hairs on her skin to rise.

  Katie swatted his hand. “We’re not having sex tonight.”

  Instead of getting offended, Davey laughed. “I didn’t expect to. Hoping yes, but not expecting it.”

  “And why is that?” Rolling onto her stomach, she studied the boy on her bed. With his head propped up on one arm, his pretty blue eyes were glossy from the pot they smoked. His masculine body looked out of place in her all pink room.
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  “You always make me feel good Katie, but you never let me touch you back.” Reaching out, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I could give you pleasure, too.”

  “I don’t need it,” she replied simply. With agile movements, she glided to the edge of the bed.

  Davey considered her, watching her hands as she straightened her bra. “I know you don’t, but that’s not really the point.”