by Amy Johnson
“I do feel good Ted. Better than I have in years. And what good is an heirloom if you have no one to pass it on to?” She turned to leave the basement then paused. “By the way, this is not over. You will sit down and talk to me about her and why you don’t want kids, and lots of other stuff.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I guess I’ll get plenty of pitching practice.” And with that she stomped up the stairs and slammed the basement door shut.
Megan stood at the basement door for a few minutes breathing deeply and counting to ten. The old Megan would have been ashamed of herself for losing her temper and not acting dignified and calm. Well screw it! Dignity was overrated anyhow. The new Megan felt exhilarated and slightly liberated. That’s right! The new Megan that had orgasms, and lusted after gym Gods and hunky hairdressers. That ate lasagna off the floor and cut and dyed her hair any way she damn well pleased and threw temper tantrums, and cameras and didn’t care if her husband was lying on the floor with a bloody lip. She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted.
“Huh! Serves him right!” She told herself. Ted deserved whatever she felt like doing to him because he was a jerk.
A bleeding jerk who might need her help.
No! She told herself it’s just a busted lip. No one ever died of a busted lip. She would not go down there and…ah hell. Damn her mother for raising her right. She filled a zip lock bag with ice and carried it to the basement door. With a loud sigh she opened the door and walked in. Ted was sitting on his weight bench holding an old rag to his lip and talking on his cell phone. Abruptly, he ended his call and snapped the phone shut.
“Here,” She said handing him the ice pack. “Sorry about your lip.” He let the ice pack fall to the floor and said nothing. He didn’t even move. Next time she’d drop a fifty pound block of dry ice on his head. The bastard!
***
Megan was channel surfing with the remote about an hour later when Ted finally came up from the basement. She was still steamed at him and hell bent on getting to the bottom of things. She decided to let him get settled and then she’d calmly, diplomatically bring up the issues of the naked woman and the marijuana. Then after that when she’d heard his explanations she’d talk to him about their marriage and how she wanted the pizzazz back. They’d have an adult conversation where both of their wants and needs would be expressed. Yeah right! She’d have better luck teaching the pups their ABC’s.
Ted finally entered the room and sat in his chair. Megan surrendered the remote as a peace offering. His lip was swollen and his face was red but other than that he was plain old Ted. Quiet and calm as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if there were no drugs or X-rated pictures in the basement.
“Ted?”
“Yeah?”
“We need to talk.”
“It’s okay Meg. I accept your apology. Let’s just forget about it.” What the hell? Her apology? Was he friggin’ nuts? She tried to squash her temper back down like she’d always done. She silently recited the serenity prayer. ‘God grant me the serenity not to beat him over the head with a baseball bat. Amen!’
“I wasn’t going to apologize.”
“You weren’t?” He frowned, “You broke my camera.”
“You’re lucky that’s all I broke.” He met her gaze then, she continued, “Now I want to know who ‘Little Miss C Cups’ is and no bullshit, Ted. I want the truth.”
“Fine. She’s a client,” he responded in his ever present calm baritone voice. “And by the way they’re D cups. Triple D’s. So I guess that’d make her Little Miss D Cups.”
Ok, that was it! Call the coroner, Ted was gonna die!
Megan felt the heat penetrate her body and her muscles tighten. She felt like her ears were ringing and her eyes were on fire. Ten years of pent up feelings and emotions had now turned to rage! This was not going to be a pretty sight.
She slowly got off the couch and went into the kitchen. When she returned she had a dish towel in her hand and she slowly, deliberately walked over to Spot’s bowl and gently covered his bowl with the towel. Ted stared at her but didn’t speak. Not until she’d sat back down, crossed her legs and picked up a magazine did he speak.
“What’s with the towel?” He asked.
“I’m trying to be a role model for him but you’re making it damn hard. Right now I’m experiencing some homicidal tendencies and I don’t want Spot to watch me kill you.” She never lifted her eyes from the magazine as she spoke in a flat, detached voice. “What, with all the violence he sees on T.V. and all I just don’t really think it’ll be good for him, so I covered his bowl. When he asks for his Daddy in the future, I’ll just tell him you were poisoned or accidentally drowned or got shot.” Ted’s composure changed from relaxed and kicked back to shock and surprise.
“I’m sure it’ll be hard on him and the pups. But I’ll get them into therapy and, what with your life insurance policy and all, I think we’ll survive.” She yawned. “Oh, look at the time. It’s already eleven o’clock. Guess I’ll hit the hay. Sweet dreams, Ted.” Megan rose from the couch and started towards the stairs.
“Her name is Tiffany.” Megan stopped, her heart thudding against her chest. “And it’s not what you think. She’s just a friend.” Yeah a naked friend. With Triple D’s.
Naked Triple D’s. And Megan had A cups. Life was so unfair.
“A friend?” Megan stood there for a moment trying to process his load of crap. Megan had friends. She didn’t have pictures of them naked. Ali had never said ‘Hey Meg, get a load of these babies. Wanna take a picture and hang it on the fridge where you’ll see it every day?’ She didn’t have naked Mickey pictures.
“So how exactly did you happen to acquire these pictures of her?”
“I’m a photographer, Meg. It’s what I do. I take pictures.”
“Of naked women?”
“Well not usually, this was…uh kind of an accident.”
“Oh, well why didn’t you just say so? That explains everything.” She returned to the couch her hands fisted and eyes narrowed. Sarcasm lay thick in her voice. “Let me guess, you were at work doing what you do and all of a sudden you accidentally stumble on to this naked woman who is accidentally posing in the studio. And you say gee, I should accidentally load my camera and snap a few accidental shots. Oh but wait, you tell yourself, wouldn’t it be even better is she accidentally posed with my sports props that I accidentally left lying around. Are you buying this load of garbage Ted? Because I sure as hell am not.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Megan.”
“Me ridiculous? Never. Uh huh. Not me.” Her tone was so thick and full of anger she didn’t even recognize it as her own voice. “Got any more accidents I should know about. You know, like if your clothes accidentally fell off and you tripped, and she was there to catch your fall and you were so grateful that you accidentally had sex with her. Or maybe…”
“This conversation is over, Megan. You’re acting like a child!” He turned his attention back to the T.V.
“You’re right, Ted. I’m acting like a child. And you know how children act. They throw temper tantrums and break things.” She eyed his collection of stupid sports dolls with those hideous bobbing heads. “Expensive things. Things that mean a lot to people.” She picked up Babe Ruth. “Yep, sometimes they break things that are priceless.”
“Put it down Meg.”
“Wasn’t this guy a legend or something?” she said indicating the Babe Ruth doll in her hand. “Didn’t he hit like a gazillion homeruns?”
“Yeah, Meg. He did. Look…”
“Well, he can chalk up another one ‘cause this little guy is going out of the park.”
“Look, Megan. I’ll talk to you. I’ll tell you about Tiffany. It’s not what you think. Just put him down, stop breaking things and we’ll talk.” He rubbed his head with his hands and sighed.
“Does your head hurt Ted?”
“Yeah.”
“Good! You want some T
ylenol?” He looked at her sideways.
“Please.” She returned Babe Ruth to the shelf.
Megan went to the kitchen and got Ted, the cheating dirt bag, a glass of water and something for his headache. While she was in the kitchen, she called Mickey.
He answered on the third ring his voice gruff from sleep.
“Mickey?”
“Yeah.”
“Pick me up in about a half an hour. I’m ready to do that thing.”
“What thing?”
“You know. What me, you and Josie talked about.”
“Ted’s office?”
“Yeah. So wear something appropriate for breaking and entering.”
“Bitchin babe. I have just the outfit for it. It’s camouflage with these little rhinestones and sequins…”
After cutting the connection with Mickey she went back in the living room to deal with Ted. She handed him his water and the pills, he took them, sat the glass down, then crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Megan I know things…”
“Ted. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Just go to bed and tomorrow we can hash this out.” He opened his mouth to protest but she talked over him. “It can wait till tomorrow. That way you won’t have a headache and you’ll have all night to think up a good lie. And please, Ted, make it good. Don’t just say the first thing that pops into your head. After ten years I deserve a better lie than ‘It was an accident’ or ‘It’s not what you think’.” She laughed dryly. “At least try to be original, you know. Something that’s not so cliché.”
Ted’s reaction to her words was utter confusion. He looked defeated, like he was trying to calculate the underlying meaning to her words. This was not the Megan he knew. The quiet, loyal, low maintenance woman who met him at the door with a smile and had dinner ready at six. The woman he’d married never asked questions or threw things or spoke her mind. She was just there, loyal and obedient and quiet. Until now he assumed she’d always be. He wasn’t so sure of that anymore.
“Megan?” He called out to her from the kitchen. When she didn’t answer he went in there to find her scrubbing the floor where something had been spilled. “Meg?”
“What Ted?” she answered her gaze never leaving the floor where she was scrubbing the now dried and crusty remnants of her mother’s lasagna from the tile.
He knelt down beside her and tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eyes.
“You’re very beautiful,” he told her. Try as she might, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him in disgust.
“Go to bed, Ted.”
“I mean it. Maybe I don’t always say it, but I’ve always seen it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you see it with Tiffany too.” He shook his head and frowned.
“You’ve got the wrong idea about that.”
“Whatever,” she snapped. “Just go to bed, will ya? Leave me alone.”
“Ok. I’ll leave you alone.” He took her hand. “I just want you to know, I’ve always loved you. That has never changed.” Yeah right. Probably he loved Tiffany Triple D too.
She snorted in disbelief, “Well, aren’t I lucky? My husband loves me. Woohoo! I can hardly control my excitement. Now leave me alone.” He searched her eyes for what seemed like an eternity before finally releasing her hand and leaving the room. A moment later Megan heard his footsteps going up the stairs, then the sound of running water in the bathroom.
She sat on the floor staring at the mess she’d been trying to clean up. Ted thought she was beautiful. He loved her. That’s what she’d wanted, right? She could probably follow him up those stairs and put a little passion back in their marriage. Now she had back a little of what she longed for. All she had to do was go get it. But it was too little, too late. Now the thought of a passionate night with the man she once loved more than life itself made her want to throw up. All over her mother’s left over lasagna on the kitchen floor.
Chapter SevenBy twelve-thirty that night, Ted was sleeping like a baby, probably dreaming about Tiffany. Megan sat on her front porch steps waiting for Mickey to show up.
She had dressed in a black sweat suit with black shoes and had a black Nike ball cap on backwards, her newly short hair sticking out the front. She’d loaded two flashlights, her purse, and an old Polaroid camera in Ted’s black gym bag and she clenched the keys to the studio in her hand. All she needed was Mickey and she was good to go.
Mickey was running late. And the later he got the more second thoughts she had. What she should do was wait until tomorrow, talk with Ted, and figure out where they went wrong and then develop a plan to fix it. Only that wouldn’t happen because he’d just lie to her and behave for a little while, and once he was satisfied the coast was clear he’d cheat again. And next time, he wouldn’t be so careless about it.
Of course that theory only worked if he was cheating on her. Which, he had to be. Why else would he have naked pictures of his friend in the basement if he wasn’t?
She’d have to divorce him. It would send her mother into a catholic frenzy but if he was having an affair, he had to go. She’d be alone. She blinked back a tear. She’d never been alone. She went straight from her parent’s home to this house with Ted and even though they had a distant marriage he was still there. A warm body to lie next to at night or share a meal with.
Megan saw headlights coming down the street and a moment later Mickey’s car swung to a stop at the curb. She grabbed her bag, crawled in the front seat, and rested the bag in her lap. She glanced back and saw Josie in the backseat.
“Ready?” Mickey asked.
“I guess. What took you so long?” Mickey pointed to the backseat with his thumb.
“I had to go get Josie. She’d a killed us if we hadn’t brought her along.”
Megan had a flashback to Josie prowling around the basement in her condom covered fingers and stifled a laugh.
“Where’s Duff?” Megan asked.
“I sent him home. He’s on probation. B&E would not be a good idea for him right now. He said if we do anymore after September he’d love to come along. His probation is up then.” Megan rolled her eyes and bit her cheek to keep from lecturing Josie about her choices when it came to men.
“B&E?”
“Breaking and Entering?” Josie and Mickey both explained.
“Well technically,” Megan began, “I don’t think its breaking and entering because I own the studio with Ted. So I think all we are doing is entering.” She held up the keys to the studio. “With a key.”
“So we won’t be breaking anything?” Josie asked sounding way too disappointed.
“No.”
“Well that just sucks. I even went out and bought some gloves.” Josie leaned back in the seat and sighed. “My first B&E and I don’t get to break anything. What a rip.”
Megan and Mickey exchanged looks. He had an amused look on his face. He was certainly enjoying himself.
“Oh I know!” Josie shouted startling both Megan and Mickey. “We can give each other code names.”
“Yeah like Larry, Curly and Mo,” Megan said.
“No silly, like I’ll be…Lolita.” Josie eyed Megan and Mickey slowly. “Mickey can be Bond. James Bond.” Mickey smiled. “And Meg, you can be…uh…Oh no I can’t think of a name for you. Mickey?”
“Minds blank, babe.” Mickey answered.
Josie thought about it, “Mine too.” Literally Megan thought. Good thing she had big boobs. At least God compensated for giving her an IQ of twelve.
“I don’t need a name,” Megan said flatly.
“Hey, we could be Charlie’s Angels. What were their names?” Josie asked.
“The original ones or the new ones?” Mickey asked.
“Huh?”
“Well first there was the original series back in the seventies,” Mickey explained to Josie. “And then they made a movie recently with a new cast. You haven’t seen it?” Josie shook her head. “It’s bitchin’, babe. You gotta see it.”
Megan
banged her head on the passenger side window glass listening to Mickey and Josie talk about the Charlie’s babes and their wicked outfits. The one thing about Josie and Mickey was that they seemed to be made from the same mold. They had the same personality and demeanor. If they could somehow share bodies, they’d be the perfect human form. With Mickey’s intelligence and sense of humor and Josie’s big boobs and model looks, they could do some serious damage. Of course they both did enough damage by themselves to keep Megan and the rest of the girls in a constant state of damage control.
Sitting in the car with them now made Megan think of the Wizard of Oz. If they were all going to see the Wizard right now, Mickey would ask for a killer set of knockers and a woman’s shoe designer to keep him supplied in size 13’s. Josie would naturally ask for a brain. And if she wasn’t smart enough to ask herself, Mickey and Megan would make sure the request got through. And Megan, Megan would ask for the truth. For the truth about a man she’d spent ten years with, yet she felt like she didn’t even know. And now, sitting in this car she wasn’t even sure she really wanted it. Loneliness wasn’t appealing. In fact it scared her to death.
“Alright! We’re here.” Mickey announced as he cut the engine. “We just going to go on in?”
“Yep.” Megan held out the key ring and began looking for the right key. She hadn’t been to Ted’s studio in years when he hadn’t been there, so she had no idea which key fit the lock. When they got to the door she’d have to use the flashlight to see and start trying keys until she found the right one. They’d parked behind the studio and two parking lots over, where the factory workers parked their cars for the graveyard shift. Hopefully Mickey’s car would not be noticed.
“What if Ted wakes up and finds you MIA, babe?”
“He won’t,” Megan answered briefly.
“Think he’ll think something’s up? Go out looking for you.”
“He won’t wake up.” Either the words or her tone startled him because he stopped walking. Josie was digging in her purse and walked right into him sending them both lurching forward. It wasn’t until then that the light from the parking lot was bright enough to take in their costumes.
