The garden of dead thoughts

by Natasha A. Salnikova

  “I’m a free woman,” Margo said.

  Michael nodded. He looked calm, as always, but Margo saw an unusual expression in his eyes and it bothered her. She didn’t think about it when they ordered their meals or while they were waiting for their food to be brought to the table, discussing weather and insurance companies that were slow to shell out. When their meals arrived, when the plates were empty, and after they left the restaurant, Margo figured out the strange expression on Michael’s face. But first two things happened. Michael received a call from one of his clients and excused himself because he had to take that call. The second event made Margo angry and nervous at the same time.

  She was drinking wine when somebody stopped at her table and whispered in her ear.

  “You look just as good.”

  Margo was startled. She looked at the man at her table and instantly recognized the jerk who had called her a whore at the golf club.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Stop it. I know you recognized me. I sure recognized you. I still remember our crazy nights.”

  “Go away, please,” Margo said. “I have no idea who you are.”

  “You disappeared so suddenly.”

  “Seriously, go away before I call the police.”

  “Oh, wow.” The man straightened up. “Who’s the loser? Is he serious?”

  Margo looked around. She didn’t worry too much about Michael, she would find an explanation, but she didn’t like interventions and treads. She wanted to call for security.

  “I still owe you some,” the man continued and looked at Margo’s breasts. “You changed your phone number, but mine is the same. Call me any time.”

  “I said go away,” Margo hissed.

  “You are pretty rude,” the man said. “I don’t like it.”

  “Excuse me! Waiter!” Margo said.

  “You’ve got to stop it,” the man said and grabbed Margo’s arm. She regretted they sat in the corner. “I don’t want you to be sorry about your decision.”

  “If you don’t leave, you’ll regret yours.”

  “Look at you,” the man said with surprise. “A whore acting like a saint.”

  “Go away,” Margo repeated. She didn’t see a waiter, but finally Michael appeared.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked, glaring at the man.

  The man looked at him and then let Margo’s arm go.

  “I don’t know him,” she said, “but he thinks I do.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Michael moved closer to the man and the stranger stepped back.

  “No,” the dude said and smiled. “Enjoy.”

  He turned around and walked directly out of the restaurant.

  “What did he say to you?” Michael asked as he sat down.

  “I didn’t even pay attention,” Margo answered. “What a moron.”

  “You don’t know him?”

  “Of course not. What a nutcase! Did you see? Let’s go.” She just wanted to get out.

  “I’d like to have a dessert,” Michael said.

  “That dude spoiled my mood.”

  “Okay. I just don’t want to go home yet. Let’s go to the beach.”

  “The beach?”

  “Yes. Let’s go. I feel like going to the beach today.”

  Michael never insisted on anything, let alone romantic walks on the seashore, and his behavior was strange to Margo. Regardless, she wanted to see what it was all about and agreed to go with him.

  They parked the car away from the popular bars and crossed the road. Michael took off his shoes with some giddy enthusiasm that irritated Margo.

  “Come on,” he said to Margo, nodding toward the dark ocean. There was nothing in front of them except darkness and the sound of the rolling waves. Margo hated sand and everything connected to nature, but she took off her high heels and stepped into the crunchy sand that was cold by now. She winced and wanted to tell Michael that she hated him, but he already marched ahead of her. It took her much longer than him to get to the water.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Michael said, pointing to streaks of moonlight on the black water.

  “Yeah,” Margo said, thinking about washing her feet as soon as possible. Before she expressed her desire, Michael fell in front of her on one knee and stuck one of his hands in his pants pocket.

  Finally, Margo thought, but acted like a surprised fool, widening her eyes, opening her mouth, and folding her hands in a praying position.

  “As soon as I saw you for the first time,” Michael began, his eyes moistened. The surroundings were perfect: murmuring waves, the sound of distant music, and if Margo was a little bit more romantic, she would probably cry. For now, she just wanted to see the ring. She hoped he didn’t try to scrimp on it. “I realized why I worked so hard all these years. So I could share my life with the most beautiful woman on the planet. You turned my life around and gave it a new meaning. You make me feel like flying every day.”

  Margo smiled in her mind. She had never thought she would make someone fly in any way other than from a cliff.

  “I thought I had lost all purpose in life until you appeared on the scene. No one in this world is more important to me than you, and I can’t imagine my life without you anymore. When my house was on fire and I was in danger you were all I could think about. I just wanted to see you one more time. I’m so glad God gave me this opportunity. Will you marry me?”

  He finally pulled out a black box and opened it. Margo glanced at the diamond that was sparkling in the moonlight, blinding her eyes, and then nodded. He didn’t try to scrimp on it. The rock was huge. She tried to squeeze out a tear, but it didn’t work, so she just spoke in a sobbing voice.

  “Of course! Of course I’ll marry you.”

  Margo wasn’t going to say these grand words like her soon-to-be husband. She was glad he took this business to the beach and didn’t propose in a restaurant where someone could shoot a picture.

  Michael helped Margo put the ring on her finger and then he kissed her. They stayed on the beach staring at the water for a few more minutes, as long as Margo could handle it, and then returned to the car. She felt the weight of the ring on her finger and smiled. It was the only moment when she regretted not having friends. She could show them the ring and see their faces going green with envy.

  “Only Las Vegas,” Margo said as they drove home. She was looking at the diamond in the flashing streetlights, at the multicolored glimmer it was radiating. This one was so much bigger than the one Charles gave her. She intended to sell his ring, but hadn’t gotten to it.

  “Las Vegas is fine,” Michael agreed. “You women need weddings, white dresses, and all that stuff. Men want everything over and done, you are man and wife. I don’t care where or how we get married. I’m just happy you said ‘yes’.”

  “Of course!” Margo exclaimed. “I told you. I’m not the kind of woman to live with a man without a legal marriage. I told you that when we first met.”

  “I remember. You are a lady with high moral principles. I appreciate that.”

  She was the lady with high moral principles who arranged the church ceremony as soon as they arrived in Vegas. The church was in close proximity to the hotel where they stayed, Bellagio.

  Margo was doing her makeup, while watching her future husband on a huge bed, pulling on his socks. He wasn’t overweight, but his beer gut was noticeable between his white T-shirt and underwear. There was a suit next to him on the bed. Margo chose it in a rental place.

  She winced. She would have to share the bed with him tonight, but then she would start having frequent headaches and long periods like she did with Charles. She didn’t intend to have sex with this fool every day.

  Margo was surprised to catch herself calling her future husband a fool and realized she wouldn’t be able not only to sleep with him, but also to live with him for too long. At the same time, she couldn’t get rid of him fast without making the police suspicious. She watched criminal shows and knew how
these things were done. A fatal accident could happen to a spouse once, but if the same happened a second time around, the investigators could find the pattern.

  So, how many years? Two? Three? How long should she tolerate him?

  Margo applied some lipstick to her lips and watched from the corner of her eye as Michael climbed into his trousers.

  On the other hand, the accident could be so tricky that no one would think about anything different. Michael had already burned his house down; he could do the same to his second one. He could fall down the stairs. Actually, Charles fell down the cliff and it wouldn’t be a good idea to repeat a similar scenario. What then? An accident on the road? How? Suicide? Fire was the best idea even if it meant she would lose her house.

  “You are so beautiful,” Michael said as he put on his shirt and tucked it into his trousers. “I am the happiest man on the planet Earth.”

  Margo smiled. Of course he was, there was no doubt about it.

  “I’m lucky too,” she said.

  The sun flooded their hotel room while they were getting ready to tie their lives together until death do they part. The sun highlighted the expensive furnishings and modernist lamps, but when they finally left the room and went outside, the sunset bathed the casinos, hotels, and fountains in pink. Margo had visited Las Vegas several times with her lovers and didn’t look around while Michael stopped here and there, admiring what he saw. Most of all he was occupied by people in wild outfits, designed to be noticed. At Michael’s insistence, they went out half an hour before the arrival of their limousine to take a walk. After about five minutes of walking, Margo had enough. She preferred to stay in the lobby of the hotel and wait for the limousine while sitting on a soft couch, under the air conditioner, looking at the exquisite design.

  “Look at that one,” Michael nodded, trying to catch up with his future wife. “Her shorts are up her butt. No class. I mean look at her and at you.”

  Margo agreed, but wanted him to shut up. She didn’t even look to where he pointed.

  “I thought you were noticing only me,” she said, without thinking twice about her words.

  “Of course!” Michael said as he clutched Margo’s hand. “I’m only thinking about you and I see only you.”

  “Good.” Margo looked around to see where they were going.

  “I only think about you,” Michael said, standing in front of her and looking into her eyes.

  “I understand,” Margo replied. “We can wait for the limousine at the hotel or take a walk.”

  She had no desire to walk again.

  “There’s nothing to look at.” Michael shrugged. “I thought you wanted to walk around.”

  They returned to the hotel and after five minutes of waiting their limousine arrived. Margo didn’t consider this wedding to be something that required a lot of money, but she didn’t intend to celebrate without any kind of pomp. If the church offered a limousine, she certainly had to take it. She didn’t want to look less important than others, especially since she was better. Michael was delighted when she mentioned The Elvis Presley Wedding Chapel, the only one she had heard about. She said she’d always been a fan of the singer. That wasn’t true. Margo didn’t like music at all. Michael was as giddy as a child and said that he loved Presley and dreamed of marrying in this place. She made his dream come true. Wasn’t she perfect?

  Margo didn’t remember much of the ceremony. She thought about what would happen when they returned to Florida. Would Michael receive an insurance check and when? When would she see Tristan? The poor boy texted her almost every day. Of course she had to tell him everything, how could she hide it? Her assistant probably shared all the details of her boss’s life with him anyway. He was angry at first, asked if she loved “that old fat dude”, to which Margo just smiled. There shouldn’t be full and understandable answers to all questions in regards to men and women and their relationships.

  “Do you agree to take Michael Buckler to be your husband?”

  Margo shook her head and laughed when she realized that she had been asked the question twice.

  “Yes, I do,” she said, choking with tones in her voice that were supposed to reflect emotion that didn’t exist. “It’s such a happy moment. Of course I do.”

  Ten hours later they were on the plane. Michael and Margaret Buckler. Husband and Wife. Margaret hadn’t officially taken her husband’s name and she didn’t plan to even though she’d promised. She knew it wasn’t going to last, why bother?

  “We are officially husband and wife,” Michael said happily, holding Margo’s hand.

  “Until death do us part,” Margo whispered, looking into the illuminator on the earth that was farther and farther with every second. It seemed like Michael said something about her fingers, but she ignored it. Her finger had a ring on it with a big, fat stone.

  CHAPTER 11

  They had a short honeymoon. First of all, Michael had too much work and couldn’t go anywhere for a long period of time, especially since he took a break from work to go to Vegas. Second of all, he still couldn’t get over his lost house and his beloved cat, and wouldn’t enjoy a vacation as much as she would.

  “This marriage healed my wounds,” he said over dinner, “but they still hurt. Let’s wait just a little longer. I promise, we’ll go to some exotic place, a five-star hotel, and all that stuff.”

  Margo didn’t roll her eyes, but it was difficult to restrain herself. She knew that soon she would get so tired of him that she would not only roll her eyes, but leave the room. To her delight, Michael continued to leave home early in the morning and return late in the evening. He was in the office during the day, he met his clients, and he even went on business trips. Unfortunately for Margo, he didn’t give her money at all, didn’t talk about it, and didn’t open a joint bank account no matter how much she hinted. Charles was brighter in this department. Given that money was her motivation for this marriage, she began to get annoyed and when Michael went on his second business trip, she decided to prepare for a serious conversation and start it as soon as her husband returned.

  While Michael was traveling, Margo gave her assistant a day off and invited Tristan to the house. She hadn’t seen him since returning from Las Vegas. He sent her so many messages that Margo had to buy a prepaid phone just for him and use Viber app, so her communication with him wouldn’t be traceable at all. Why? You never know. She wasn’t going to break up with him. He brought excitement to her life, an element of danger, and of course he satisfied her sexually. She liked his body and she liked the way he treated her body.

  Among other things, she started to consider Tristan for more important events in her life, not only being a boy toy. He was in love with her, there was no doubt about that, and he could do a lot of things for her. Anything she would ask. Like all the others, this guy was in her pocket.

  When they finished their sexual games, Margo lay in bed half covered with a comforter, and watched naked Tristan, smoking by the open door to the pool side. By now it had become a standard scene. They seemed to be posing for some artist’s painting and were afraid to move from the usual poses and spoil a future work of art.

  “How do you like your new name, Mrs. Buckler?”

  She was waiting for this question.

  “You don’t like it?” Margo asked with a grin.

  “I would prefer a different one.”

  “Michael is a wonderful person,” Margo teased. “I will carry his name with pride.”

  She didn’t plan to tell her lover that she wasn’t going to change her last name. It wasn’t his business.

  Tristan dragged on the cigarette with aggressiveness and pushed smoke from his lungs with force.

  “Why are you fucking with me if he’s so cool?”

  “Do you want us to stop?” Margo had never made excuses and she didn’t intend to do it this time.

  Tristan threw the cigarette outside with anger.

  “Again?” Margo exclaimed. “How many times can I blame eve
rything on the poor pool boy?”

  “Pool boy?” Tristan sat on the edge of the bed. “Does he only clean your pool? What about your pipes?”

  “Stop it, you idiot.” Margo threw one of the eight pillows at Tristan. He only shrugged.

  “The only thing this boy says in English is ‘Everything ready, miss. Do you like?’”

  “So what? Do you like?”

  “I do like, a lot.”

  “You’re a fucking tease.” Tristan fell on his back so that Margo’s face was over him.

  “And you talk too much. Michael gives me what I always wanted. Stability. That’s what I need.”

  “Did you marry him because of money?” Tristan turned over on his stomach.

  Margo did roll her eyes this time. What a clever boy. Now she would cry, admit all her sins, including the murder of her first husband, and swear never to do that again.

  “Why are you with Daisy?” Margo retorted.

  “Because of you,” Tristan answered without hesitation. “As soon as you leave your old man ...”

  “He’s not old, by the way.”

  “Compared to whom?”

  Margo shook her head, displeased with Tristan’s answer.

  “If you leave him,” the guy continued, “I’ll say goodbye to Daisy.”

  Margo pretended to think about it. Of course, a twenty something stud without a permanent job or money in his pocket was the ideal candidate for her. Only there was one if. If he left his girlfriend and Michael disappeared from Margo’s life, Tristan would instantly lose his attraction to her. He certainly would, Margo knew that like she knew sex and money were two separate things.

  Margo got out of bed, threw a robe over her naked body, and went to the bathroom.

  “Are we done talking?” Tristan asked.

  Margo turned to him.

  “Michael has something you don’t have,” she said.

  “I know, dough.”

  Margo shrugged.

  “I lead an expensive lifestyle.” She looked around the bedroom and Tristan followed her gaze. “I can’t just leave him. At least while he’s alive,” Margo paused, sighed, “I will remain his wife. He’s a good man. Very good. He takes care of me.”