by Long, W. S.
“Hi, Hunter! Are you staying at the house?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was wondering if you saw Dimas?”
She shook her head. “No. I dozed off waiting for the clothes to dry, and just woke up when I heard the doorbell. I was fixing to make some tea. Would you like some?”
“Sure,” Hunter said. He stepped in the open door, and toed off his wet shoes in the front.
“You still remember?” Ida said, smiling as she did after she saw he removed his shoes.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It seems just the other day that you would come over to cut the grass. Good gosh, how long ago was that?”
“I was thirteen and fourteen at the time. I remember every time I was finished, you would give me twenty dollars and a cold bottle of Coca-Cola to drink.”
“Do you still drink Coke?”
Hunter followed her to the back of the house. “Yes, but I’ve actually switched to Diet Coke.”
Ida shuddered. “Oh, that’s nasty stuff there. You should switch to the Coca Cola imported from Mexico. No fructose, just cane sugar. More natural.”
He passed a small sitting room, and noticed a overstuff leather chair with a blanket, a book lying face down, the pages open to a spot. The dryer was running, behind the kitchen. “I’ll have to give that a try.”
Ida motioned Hunter to take a seat by the small table in the nook by the kitchen. She then took out a whistling teakettle and poured water into then turned on the electric stove’s countertop and placed the kettle on a burner. “It won’t take long. I like boiling my tea the old fashioned way. That kettle was my mother’s believe or not, so when I hear the whistle, and the steam coming out, I remember her making tea in the afternoon. She loved oolong tea. I’m pretty partial to Earl Grey breakfast tea myself. What kind of tea do you like?”
Hunter shrugged. “I’m not picky.” He paused, curious about what he saw earlier in the morning. “I saw you.”
“Excuse me?” Ida faced Hunter, her head cocked to one side in disbelief. “When?” Her brown eyes fluttered.
“At the rough, where Carl’s body was.”
She sighed and grabbed two teacups from the cupboard. “I was worried someone would see me, but I just had to find out about something.”
“What?”
“If my grandmother’s earrings were there…where Carl was.”
Hunter’s brow furrowed. What is she admitting? “Why would they be there?”
“If I tell you, it would be all over. And I don’t know if I can.” Ida closed her eyes and then stood still. The kettle whistled that the water was ready. She turned off the counter top and poured hot water in the teacups. “Earl Grey okay?”
Hunter nodded. He couldn’t give up. Not now. “Why would your grandmother’s earrings be there?”
“Well, you see, I worried that Lenny had borrowed it because it was missing.”
“Why would Lenny borrow it?”
“I guess this would be the time to tell you about a few things so you understand.” Ida came over, back to the table with two teacups with orange colored tea for both of them.
“I first met Lenny at Flagler College. He was studying business, I think. I was studying boys.” She laughed at her own joke, then continued. “I had the biggest crush on Lenny. Back then he was dashing, energetic about life. One thing led to another when we met, and next thing you know, I was pregnant.” She blew air on her hot tea to cool it. “Lenny proposed, and I accepted. After all, I was in love with him at that time. Things changed after I miscarried. He focused more on work, and not this marriage. I tried to get Lenny into counseling but he refused. I thought about leaving him many, many times.”
“I remember my mother said you and Lenny had problems.”
“We rarely had sex after the first year of marriage. Eventually we evolved into a sexless marriage. I even tried to make him jealous, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he encouraged me to find what I needed outside of the home. He just didn’t want to know specifically with whom, until a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Hunter said, putting his teacup down. “That must have been tough.”
“It was…for the first few years. I wondered why he couldn’t love me, why he didn’t want to be with me. We even went to counseling. I hired a divorce attorney at one time. He got really mad over that. Eventually, I just came to terms that we’re in a platonic, if you can believe it, marriage. But, everything changed when he encouraged me to be with Carl.”
“What?” Hunter’s voice raised but then immediately lowered his voice after Ida’s frightened reaction.
“It was several months after your mom passed…the three of us got together, and ate at that nice seafood restaurant overlooking the ocean. You know the one? Your mom’s favorite. But, I forget the name. After dinner, Lenny encouraged me to go out with Carl. I liked Carl too. I didn’t want to see Carl, in that way, and I didn’t want to make this to be a public, almost public kinda thing. After all, if people suspected I was with Carl, then that make Lenny a cuckold, as they used to say. I don’t know…do they still use that word?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Hunter added as he accepted more hot water and a fresh tea bag.
“I didn’t realize until recently that this was Lenny’s opportunity to get Carl to invest some money into some of his ideas. I was basically a pawn in Lenny’s game to flip houses, and sell them with Carl involved, taking a second mortgage I found out too late.” Ida sighed. “By then, I was too much into Carl.”
Hunter’s eyebrows arched as he swirled the tea. He had no idea where she was going with this, so he remained silent. He picked up the teacup to sip some more tea.
“I cared very much for Carl, probably too much. He told me he thought he loved me.”
Hunter almost spit out his tea. How could I not know this? “And, did you love him?”
“I don’t know. I can’t say that I would have a problem leaving Lenny, but Lenny’s always been good to me. More like a big brother than a husband.”
“I still don’t understand about you being at the rough, looking for an earring.”
“The earring was my grandmother’s.”
Hunter nodded. He didn’t want to say she already told him that. He didn’t want to come across as rude. This was Ida after all.
“Around the time Lenny told me it was okay to be with Carl, if I wanted to, he was acting different. Peculiar?”
“Peculiar?” Who says this word anymore?
“One night I came home early, by at least an hour. I guess he didn’t hear me. I heard music in his bedroom upstairs. We’re on opposite sides of the house, so I have to pass his bedroom to get to mine, and I saw him. He was in front of a mirror, wearing one of your mom’s old dresses. He was dressed head to toe as a woman.”
Hunter’s hand shook as he put the teacup down on a saucer. “Whoa.”
“I confronted him. He said he’d never felt that he could be who he truly was, so he was exploring this part of him that he’d kept inside. Of course I was shocked. But in time, when I look back on our twenty-plus years of marriage, it all made sense. He’d been conforming to what everyone wanted him to be. I was probably a part of that too. And I felt bad.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Hunter said.
“I think it’d been tough on him. Once he told me all of this, he would ask me help in buying clothes. I sometimes bought dresses with him in mind, so he could borrow them. He would take off for days at a time. I don’t know where. Maybe Jacksonville, but probably Orlando or Miami. He would drive dressed as a woman. I know he’d be too scared to be seen here in Ponte Vedra, or even in St. Augustine.”
“Okay,” Hunter said, pressing through his shorts the earring he picked up earlier. The fabric of his shorts concealed its identity but at this moment it seemed like his shorts were on fire.
“But in the last year, he changed a little. He started hanging out with Carl more. Sometimes, I felt a little jealous. But lately, Car
l had been stressed. I tried to ask him what is going on. But whenever the subject of Lenny comes up, he would get upset.”
Hunter replayed what she said in his mind. “So everything was okay until just what? A few months ago?”
“Yes. The morning that Carl died, Lenny wasn’t home. Now he runs a lot, but he usually does it at sunrise. But when I woke up that early morning, I didn’t see him. I hadn’t even put on makeup. I had no idea what was going on. I went to the hotel. That’s when I ran into you.”
“I went back to our room that morning. Carl had someone with him, after the tournament. Was it—”?
“Yes. I did stay with him a little while. But he was drunk pretty early and he fell asleep the evening after the tournament, so I left. I had to take the stairs. There were a lot of journalists in the lobby when I met up with Carl, and I didn’t want to run into any of them.”
“Well, that explains the wine glasses with lipstick. But the spoon next to the nightstand?”
“Carl’s…I think he started using after one of the Vegas trips with Lenny.”
“How did I not know this?” Hunter asked.
“Honey, you were spending a lot of time with your boyfriend. Everyone knew. Carl knew what you and Dimas were to each other. He didn’t like it, but he really couldn’t say anything could he? I mean really when you think about it, you went to a few tournaments only throughout year. That’s what? Four days or so for each tournament, like five or six times a year? How many times did you stay with Carl at the house?”
Hunter’s face flushed. He probably hadn’t stayed more than six times in the year at the house when Carl was there. He normally joined Carl on the road. He had wondered why Carl never questioned where he spent his time. Carl kept Hunter on a small allowance, and he never bugged Carl for money. Dimas, the generous boyfriend, and he lived a pretty simple life on endorsements and small tournament wins in Orlando, two hours, three hours tops from Ponte Vedra.
“So Carl knew all this time?”
“Yes. He never came out and said it, but every time Dimas’ name came up, he would make a face like he swallowed a prune. I don’t think he ever liked your boyfriend.”
“And here Dimas and I thought he never knew about us.” Hunter hesitated for a moment, and then decided there was not point in hiding it. He fished out the earring from his pocket. “Is this yours?”
Ida’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, that’s my grandmother’s earring. I was so mad when I found it missing. I asked Lenny if he had borrowed it.”
“He borrowed it?” Hunter’s throat tightened.
“When I came home from the hotel, that morning, after I ran into you getting what was it? Some kind of chai latte? I found a dress in the washer. He was actually washing clothes. And when I got to my bedroom that’s when I noticed my jewelry box was open. I don’t have a lot of jewelry, and this piece,” Ida held up the earring, “it’s a pretty large costume jewelry clip on. The only value is sentimental.”
“I found it on the rough. Near where Carl died.”
“Oh,” Ida said, her eyes downcast. “I was afraid of that.”
Chapter 7
Dimas swore. He’d almost caught up to the runner. Ten minutes into chasing someone he’d thought was Ida, he discovered Lenny, wearing a dress. Dimas would’ve still been in frazzled ignorance about the speed and agility of Ida, but for a lightning flash that illuminated the darkening late afternoon sky, and revealed Lenny’s face. Soon after Dimas found out who he was chasing, Lenny’s wig caught on a branch and he left it behind, afraid to be caught by Dimas.
Nightfall was approaching, and Dimas didn’t want to be running through pines, slipping on wet pine needles, dodging sharp thorny branches, or viny kudzu that had infiltrated this part of Florida too.
He sensed Lenny was tiring because Dimas was easily getting closer. As soon as Lenny broke free of the pine trees and ran through the field, Dimas was less than ten yards away. And gaining.
Lenny’s speed had definitely slowed. Still, Dimas had to hand it to Lenny who was probably no taller than five-feet-five inches to have been able to run like this the last twenty minutes or so. He guessed Lenny too suffered nicks and cuts from running in the small pine barrens.
Lenny made a beeline for his house on Maple, and Dimas neared, so close Lenny’s labored breathing was more pronounced. As soon as Lenny jumped on the porch and fumbled with the front door, Dimas grabbed him from behind and tackled him. Lenny tried to kick him, but Dimas easily put him in a choke hold and scissored Lenny’s legs.
Ida and Hunter stood in the doorway, their mouths open. Dimas dripped water onto the floorboard.
“Get me something to hold his hands and feet.”
“What happened?” Ida asked.
“I can’t hold him for long. I’ve been running, chasing him for thirty minutes. Dropped the knife in the woods chasing him too.”
Lenny struggled and tried to say something, but Dimas’ arm around his neck prevented him. The years of wrestling in school had paid off, he was able to contain and manage Lenny. For now. Ida stood there, her hand to her mouth in shock. She didn’t protest Dimas holding Lenny this way, in this chokehold of sorts. When Hunter showed up with duct tape he grabbed from somewhere behind the kitchen, he told Hunter what to do. He duct-taped Lenny’s legs. When Dimas changed his choke hold so Lenny’s face was now down on the floor, Hunter duct-taped Lenny’s hands together at the wrist and laid Lenny on his side.
“Someone needs to call the police,” Hunter said. “Ida just admitted to me that Lenny was there when Carl died.”
“Yes, but Lenny didn’t tell me why he was there. My grandmother’s earring proves he was there.”
“If you didn’t have anything to do with Carl’s death, Ida, you should call it in,” Hunter said.
Ida nodded, then ducked into the sitting room and called 911. Dimas, Lenny, and Hunter stood by as Ida waited to say something to the 911 operator. Lenny whimpered, “No, no, no.”
“Nine-one-one, you need to come to One Maple Drive. I think my husband killed Carl Mullins.”
Even though Dimas kept Lenny from moving, Lenny shook his head. “It was an accident. You have to believe me, it was an accident.”
Ida hung up the phone and approached Lenny. “What happened? Where were you that morning?”
“I told Carl I wanted to meet him early in the morning. He texted me he was leaving the hotel early to drop off his clubs, and to let him know when would be a good time. I couldn’t sleep that morning, so I decided to go for a run, but this time, I dressed up. You know. I had my wig, I put on some make up, I borrowed your earrings. You were asleep. I think you came back late from partying, or maybe you were with Carl.”
“Go ahead,” Hunter demanded. “Tell me what happened.” Hunter balled his fists, and if Dimas weren’t wet, dripping, holding and restraining Lenny, he would have let go to hug Hunter.
“I didn’t expect him to cut through the course to get home. But I guess I should’ve. He was looking down at the ground, carrying his golf clubs when I practically ran into him. He didn’t recognize me at first. Then he started laughing. He had no business to laugh. You know, Ida, we are in so much debt because he borrowed money from me, and some of it is your money! He ran up debts in Vegas, took out a second mortgage.”
Lenny stopped. He squeezed his forehead then started beating it.
“Go ahead, Lenny. It’s okay,” Ida said.
Lenny nodded his head. He closed his eyes for a moment and then when he opened them, he spoke some more. “He thought by partnering with me to flip homes he would make easy money, but he over extended himself. And here he was laughing at me. Not just laughing at me but making hateful derogatory comments. So I took a golf club from his bag and hit him. He fell because of the golf bag he was carrying made him lose his balance, and he hit a rock. The back of his head hit a rock. I bent down to see how he was and he just reached out and tried to pull me close. But he died right after that.”
Lenny started
bawling. His make-up ran, and when he tried to wipe some tears, the more smudgy his face got. “I never meant to kill him. He just made me so mad. That’s how I lost your grandmother’s earrings. Somehow when I bent down, and when he reached me, it must have come off. I don’t know.” Lenny gulped for air between the tears. “I didn’t mean to kill him, you got to believe me.”
Lenny kept crying, and when the lights and sirens arrived, he sobbed even more.
Chapter 8
One year later
Hunter finished eating the breakfast sweet potato and screwed on tight the thermos full of coffee he had made for Dimas and himself. He stood by the window and gazed out into the cool, damp Lima morning. Already traffic started picking up, but on the sidewalks here and there men and women walked their dogs. Dimas had wanted to leave earlier to catch Valparaíso as the sun hit the water, but they woke up later than they had planned. They agreed to tour one of the poet Pablo Neruda’s house and stop at one of the wineries on their way to the coast.
“You ready to go, babe?” Dimas asked. His freshly showered hair glistened in the light. “Ready to see the other sites of Peru?”
“Yes.” Hunter smiled as he kissed his fiancé. “Remind me to grab the small bag of food your mother made for us as we leave. She even baked the caramel biscuits you love so much, and put some in the brown bag.”
“Yum, I missed my mama’s alfajores”
Hunter broke off Dimas embrace. If they kept this up, they would be leaving later and he really wanted to see the coast. “I got an email from Ida earlier.”
“Yeah, what did she say?”
“The bank started foreclosure on our old house. And she sold hers. So she’s going to work for another realtor in town. She’s been writing Lenny in prison to keep his hopes and visiting.”
“How’s he doing?”
“I guess it could’ve been worse for him.” Hunter followed Dimas out of the room, downstairs, and next to the front door.
