by Ian Fox
He had to call her the next day. He lied that the divorce papers weren’t complete and that they’d have to sign an amendment.
“Of course, Henry, whatever you want.”
At noon he invited her for lunch and they talked about everything but the amendment.
“How’s your life, Henry? Are you happy?” she asked him suddenly.
Her sand-colored dress fit her body perfectly.
He had to take a moment to think. “It’s hard to say. Things have gotten a bit complicated.”
“We should never have moved to Medford. We were so happy in Los Angeles. Remember?”
“Of course I remember. Even though I worked a lot, we did have some great times.”
Her lips curved downwards. “I’m glad you can admit it.” She looked up. “You said something about an amendment. Where is it, so I can read and sign it?”
“Yes, you’re right.” Grabbing his briefcase he started rummaging through it. “I can’t believe it, I seem to have forgotten it. I’m such an idiot. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll just have to meet up sometime tomorrow.”
They didn’t sign the amendment the next day either. They met at five in the afternoon. Valerie, in tight pants and a white sweater, took Henry’s breath away. They talked until nearly eight in the evening, when Dr. Lawson’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. It was Anita.
“Where are you, for goodness sake?” she asked. “Dinner is cold already.”
“I’ll be home in twenty minutes. I had something important to take care of.” After hanging up, he apologized to Valerie, adding, “I have to go.”
“What about the amendment? What’s it about?”
He opened his hands. “I’m in a hurry. We should have talked about it before. Anita will be angry if I don’t leave now.”
They met every day the next week as well, until one day Henry made up his mind. He told his wife that he was sorry for everything and that he wanted to move back to Los Angeles with her. “I love you, Valerie. I see now that the affair with Anita was a big mistake.”
Valerie said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you. You hurt me a lot.” She closed her eyes, keeping back her tears. “But I have never stopped loving you.”
They embraced.
“And when will you tell Anita?”
“Let’s stay in each other’s arms a little longer. I can’t let you go. I’ll go to Anita straight after.”
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Sorry, Anita, I couldn’t come sooner.” As he was sitting at the table he noticed a half-empty bottle of wine on the kitchen countertop.
“I want to know where you’ve been. I can’t help but notice that lately you’ve been busy every afternoon.” Her hair was tousled as if she’d forgotten to comb it that morning. Her eyes were glazed from the wine.
“You’re pregnant and yet you’ve been drinking wine?”
She angrily pushed a plate of food in front of him and stood with her hands on her hips, facing him. “You haven’t answered my question.”
He pushed away the plate. “I’m not hungry. I can’t eat.”
“How come? It took me more than an hour to cook this and now you say you’re not hungry.” She gulped some wine from a glass on the table. Anita leveled her eyes at Henry and said, “Who did you go to dinner with? Tell me.”
“Valerie.”
“You come straight out with it. How dare you!”
He looked up at her. “It’s not going to work.”
“What’s not going to work?” Her face turned deathly pale.
“I’m leaving you, Anita. I’ve realized that our relationship was a big mistake. I can’t divorce Valerie.”
Her wine glass fell on the floor and smashed. Without even looking at what she’d done she took a step toward him. Henry’s chair legs scraped across the floor tiles in his rush to stand up and be out of Anita’s reach.
“What are you talking about?” she said, her voice getting louder. “We’re getting married. Tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“I can’t do this anymore. I don’t love you. And now I know I still love my wife.”
“You’re talking nonsense. That witch has talked you into this.” She put her hand on her abdomen. “What about the baby? Who will raise it? No, you’re not going anywhere. We’re getting married.”
“No we’re not. And if you don’t want to raise the child, I will.” He slowly walked over toward the door. “I’m sorry, Anita. I’m very sorry.”
Reaching for the doorknob, he felt something hit him in the back. The sharp pain made him turn round. “What the hell …”
She had thrown a heavy glass sugar bowl at him and was now holding the large metal salt grinder. “I’ll show you sorry. Damn you! I’ll kill you!”
“Forgive me,” he said, and barely managed to get out in one piece.
The next day, Dr. Lawson quit his job. Within three months he and his wife moved back to Los Angeles.
Chapter 104
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Life in prison was a sequence of repeating scenes. Every morning the prisoners got up early and went to work. After that, they could choose one of the leisure activities and then they got locked in their cells, where they stayed for the remainder of the day. The next day was the same as the one before. The only exception was Sunday, when they could sleep longer and had more time for relaxation.
Nearly two years had passed since Simon Patterson’s right to freedom had been taken away. He had started getting used to life in prison, just as Paul Tuttle had predicted. He got weary of the depression which he lived in for the first few months. Slowly, he got used to everything. He knew he was living among drug dealers, thieves, murderers, and other criminals, but this bothered him less and less. That’s just the way they are, he thought. No one’s perfect.
He thought of himself as a murderer anyway. Even though he was charged with the murder of his wife, he considered prison to be his punishment for actually killing another person. He thought about it a lot. He accepted the fact that God’s eyes were everywhere and that he was being punished for the murder he did commit. This thought he kept to himself.
Some of the prisoners were actually nice guys, and Simon Patterson was glad to see them every day. A few others claimed they’d been put away for something they hadn’t done. Simon also at first said that, but then he didn’t see the point. No one believed him anyway. He didn’t want to talk about it, but if anyone pressed the matter, he never said he had killed her or anything of the sort. He just said she used to get on his nerves and provoke him. Because he wouldn’t talk about the murder, some of the other prisoners made up stories about it. Simon Patterson heard rumors about how he’d first cut her stomach open and then severed her head. Some even said he’d eaten her liver.
Simon took no notice of these rumors, which soon spread. And because of this, he had a fearsome reputation. Though he was calm and thoughtful, some trembled at the sight of him. They imagined him slowly cutting open his wife. Others who weren’t afraid of him left him alone due to his willingness to help. He had aided several prisoners with their various medical problems and the others realized they might also need help someday.
Whenever Simon was sad, he mused: That’s the way it is. It’s God’s will. Nothing can be done about it. I need to finish serving my sentence.
His favorite part of the day was rummaging through books in the library. Before, he had never thought about occupying himself with meditation or spiritual things. He had never had time. He also found other interests, such as reading books about biology and animals, and was also interested in architecture and art. The good side of prison was that there was always enough time. In fact, there was too much time and he could now do things he never used to. He always read the daily newspapers and various weekly magazines.
One afternoon, he got a big surprise. While flicking through the Medford Mail he came across an article which he would have been
better off not seeing. He took a deep breath and looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Her eyes were staring right at him and it seemed to him like she was smiling gently. It was Christine, beautiful like never before. Next to her stood a few other people, obviously having fun. The headline read: A party like no other.
He swallowed hard and read the article:
It was an unforgettable and unique experience, the likes of which this town has never seen before. Christine Vucci, widow of Carlo Vucci, spared no expense. The guests ate caviar from enormous silver bowls. Those wanting goose liver pate could help themselves out of a large cooked goose standing in the center of a long table. If you were thirsty, all you had to do was hold your glass under a stream of champagne that flowed from two fountains. But that’s not all. The tables were laden with food — dozens of meat and fish dishes, pasta prepared in a host of ways, salads, exotic desserts — enough to feed a thousand hungry people, not just the two hundred in attendance. In addition, to celebrate her birthday, Christine Vucci laid on various entertainers: jugglers, comedians, singers and dancers. At midnight, magnificent fireworks lit up the sky. It was simply amazing and the party went on all night ….
Simon hurled the newspaper at the wall. What he had just read sent his blood pressure soaring. He hit the table hard with the flat of his hand, scaring Paul Tuttle, who was about to doze off.
His eyes blinked and he said, “What’s wrong now?”
Simon banged his hand on the table again, cursing loudly. “That bitch! That bitch!”
Tuttle had never witnessed Simon Patterson in such a state and sat frozen on the spot, watching him. “Dr. Patterson, what’s happened? Why are you acting like that?”
“The bitch!”
“Please, calm down, someone will hear you.”
Simon’s eyes shone with rage. The guard got the feeling Simon was about to explode.
“I’ll kill the bitch!”
Tuttle didn’t know what to do. Simon Patterson was his good friend, so he didn’t want to call for backup. He looked around a few times, checking if anyone had heard the outburst. In a sharp voice he said, “Calm down, now! Do you hear me? Or I’ll have to call for help!”
Simon got control of himself. Slowly he turned his head toward him. “Sorry, Paul. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away, but I got a shock.” He gathered up the strewn sheets of the newspaper that he’d thrown down and put the community events section back on the shelf.
Simon looked at Paul and said, “I think it’s best you take me back to my cell. I don’t feel very well.” His face was as pale as the wall.
“Should I call the doctor?”
“No, I want to go to my cell.”
The guard nodded. “OK, Doctor, if that’s what you want, I’ll take you. If you want, you can talk to me, I’ll gladly listen.”
“You’re very kind, but this time I’d really rather be alone.”
“OK, let’s go then.”
That evening, strange noises came from Simon Patterson’s cell.
Finally his neighbor couldn’t take it any longer and shouted, “Simon, what’s wrong? Why are you groaning like that?”
Simon stood up, holding his stomach. “Sorry, buddy, I have a terrible stomachache.”
“Then why don’t you call the doctor?”
“I’ll be OK. I don’t need a doctor.”
He made himself stop groaning, but the rage wouldn’t stop bubbling inside him, keeping him awake all night.
The bitch! The bitch! he kept repeating to himself.
Chapter 105
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Anita Carter gave birth to a baby girl she named Samara. She loved her, but even so, Anita often complained when she had to go and pick her up from the day care center, thinking, I don’t have any time with her around.
In the evening she looked at herself in the mirror, unsatisfied with her body. When Henry Lawson had left her during her pregnancy, she stuffed herself with food to hide the pain and gained forty pounds. She used various slimming methods but had managed to lose only ten pounds. Her round face and large behind bothered her most. She had actually cut her long hair because of the fullness of her face. It now reached just below her ears. The new mother couldn’t get used to her altered looks.
The hospital had employed two new neurosurgeons, both married and extremely serious. Neither of them showed any interest in her. So she was left with no choice but to spend her evenings sitting on the couch, holding her baby in her lap and stuffing herself with potato chips and Coca-Cola, her favorite soft drink.
One sunny afternoon, she took Samara to the town park. She sat by the lake and watched the turtles basking in the sun. Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
“My God, Anita, is that really you?”
Turning around, she recognized him. “Oh, Jerry. I haven’t seen you in a year, at least! Unbelievable, how you’ve changed. You’re in good shape!”
He was wearing navy-blue sweats and a light-blue T-shirt. She admired his broad shoulders and muscles. His face was tanned.
“Glad you noticed,” he said. “I’ve been working out regularly the past year. I swim a lot, run, go to the gym.”
She couldn’t get over how attractive he’d become. “It shows.”
“And you, Anita, how are things? You still with Henry?”
“No. Haven’t you heard? Henry moved back to Los Angeles with his wife.” She adjusted her daughter’s hat, which had slid down, covering her eyes. “And left me this lovely little girl.”
Jerry couldn’t believe this really was Anita Carter. The woman he’d loved so much was nothing special. What did I see in her? he wondered.
“And you, Jerry. What have you been doing?” She stared at his strong arms, remembering all the good old times when they’d lie together in front of the television. “If you’re free, I’ll invite you for a drink. There’s a lovely bar with a garden not far away.”
“Thank you, Anita, I’d like to, but I’m not alone.”
A beautiful woman with red hair, pushing a stroller, came out of nowhere. “Oh, there you are, Jerry. What’s the hurry?” she said sharply.
“This is my wife Meghan, and my son Danny.” He turned to his wife. “This is Anita Carter, who I used to work with. You know, I told you about her.”
The women gave each other meaningful looks and shook hands.
“Of course, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Meghan said.
The disappointment in Anita’s eyes didn’t stay hidden. Even so, she asked, “So, you didn’t answer my question. What do you do now?”
“Yes, you’re right. When we got married I opened a private practice with Meghan’s help. I’m a family doctor now, like I always wanted.”
“I’m happy for you,” she said to him.
Jerry reached for Meghan’s hand. “Have a nice time, Anita. Enjoy the lovely weather.”
With sadness she watched them disappear into the crowd. Who would’ve thought that was really Jerry. She pulled a small bag of chips from the basket under the stroller and opened it. They can screw themselves. She grabbed a few chips and shoved them into her mouth.
“We don’t need anyone, do we, Samara?”
Chapter 106
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“Hello, Simon, how are you doing?”
“Thanks, Edna, better now you’re here.”
Her face always glowed. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m very happy to see you too. I have quite a bit of news that will interest you.”
He forced himself to smile. “Really?”
“Of course.” She shuffled in her chair. “It’s a bit uncomfortable here,” she said. “Anyway, where was I? Aha, news.” In a glance she assessed him. “Did you sleep well? You don’t look too well.”
“No, I didn’t. I had a stomachache.”
“It shows. You have bags under your eyes. It must have been something you ate. Just last week I read in some magazine how people hardly ever check the sell-by date on produ
cts. Research shows that about 80 percent of people have at least one product that’s past its date at home—mostly spices, jellies, mustard, and similar stuff. God only knows what they give you to eat here.”
He was only half listening.
“I keep talking and talking and don’t know where to stop. I wanted to tell you something. Yes, of course. I heard that your neighbor, Maria Melton, is getting divorced from her husband, John.”
Simon was surprised. “What? Who told you that?”
“Maria herself. I met her two days ago. She said she’d had enough and would rather live alone. You won’t believe it, she told me to say hi to you.”
He was touched. “Really? Or are you only saying that to make me feel better?”
“I’d never do that. Her words were: ‘Give my love to Simon.’ She asked how you were doing and I said you were doing quite well.”
He looked away for a moment. “Oh, Maria. I’m glad she’s divorcing John. His envy is going to eat him up one day. He doesn’t take other people’s success too well.”
“I know. Whenever I walk past their house, he gives me a black look.”
Simon Patterson took a deep breath and then was silent for a few moments. “I want to ask you for something, Edna.”
She caressed him with her eyes. “Of course, whatever you want.”
“It may seem a bit of a strange request.”
Her lips parted a little and her eyes looked worried. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing big. Actually, it’ll be very easy for you and would mean a lot to me.”
“Of course, of course, anything.”
“When a man is separated from the rest of the world for a long time, he has simple wishes. I, for instance, keep on dreaming about walking in the woods and often wish I could swim in the ocean. But you’ll never guess what I want the most.”
