The sheets ruffle beside me, and someone rises from the bed and marches to the bathroom. “Liv?”
“Go back to sleep, David.”
I can’t.
18
Day 9
Liv
With my binoculars, I perch on the railings across the street from Skyline bar. Not that I don’t trust Aiden to perform the job, but playing detective stimulates me.
Aiden has been inside for hours, and if he’s lucky, the slut will accept his offer of smoking a joint in his car. Then he can lure her into having sex with him. Aiden is an attractive man. I don’t see why Emily wouldn’t fall for him.
Moments later, Aiden and Emily step outside. A cold shiver runs through my spine. My plan is working, but why aren’t they getting in his car? Aiden helps her put on her jacket as they march down the street.
I trail behind them, pretending to be another pedestrian strolling down the road. Where are they going? Emily seems to be leading the way when they hike two more blocks. To keep up, I take bigger steps. They cross the street, and Aiden takes Emily’s hand. She doesn’t let go, and both of them are in tune as they walk.
The cool breeze doesn’t calm my rage. I want to pounce on her, but I need to maintain my focus. After several more blocks, we reach a park. Emily stops and looks at Aiden. He seems transfixed at her gaze. I want to hit him in the head and tell him it should be her crazy about him. What is wrong with men? Are they like animals that they can’t think with their brains?
Emily tugs him deeper into the woods. The sky is pitch black so I can’t see much, but then I realize where we are. The skate park.
I’m standing right in front of the mural, the one I poured bleach on, only now the mural is painted with fluorescent and glows in the dark. Not being able to picture exactly what it looks like, I take a step forward and freeze. What on earth is this? No way! I weep. It’s an abstract face of a man, a face I would have never recognized if I didn’t look close enough, a face I can’t forget. David’s.
Straightening my shoulders, I try to keep myself together as Emily rests her hand on his face. David is mine, not yours. Emily turns to Aiden, who cups her face with both hands. They stare into each other’s eyes. It’s a slow-motion scene, like the one you see in the movies when a teenage girl and boy kiss for the very first time. I can almost taste it.
Emily has stolen the moment once again. I will not let her manipulate Aiden. Huffing a sigh, I turn around and break into a sprint for who knows how far or how long. Finally, I stop in the gas station to catch my breath and buy a drink. Fuck! There are two messages from the caregiver but nothing from Aiden.
I try calling Aiden. Voicemail. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
* * *
As soon as I arrive home, Vienna rants at me, “I left you two messages. I have an emergency. My daughter. I have to go.”
“Go, go, go!” I wave my hand at her.
“I’ll be back next time you need me.” She dashes out of the house.
“Don’t worry.”
Emily loves David, and I hope she doesn’t manipulate Aiden. Need to think of plan B. If the accomplice is weak, get rid of the accomplice. Maybe I should get rid of all of them.
Breathe! I need to learn not to do things in haste.
19
Day 10
David
I’m still perplexed with all that’s going on. My wife barely talks to me, and she never touches me.
Something happened to me, but how?
Although Liv doesn’t communicate with me, I can feel the tone of her anger when she opens the shutters of the blinds in the morning. As the sun spills inside our bedroom, I know she’s always on the phone texting and I hear her fingers tinkering when my eyes are closed.
We go through the routine―baths, change of diapers, walks, and crossword puzzles―but I notice she looks sad.
She spends a lot of time in the bathroom. I seem to hear things more clearly now, and I recognize patterns. The sprinkling of the shower and the flushing of the toilet provide comfort to the stillness of the night. Liv never watches TV, and the remote is always on her side while she sleeps. I wish she would leave it on for me so I’m not consumed by my thoughts. We talk about simple things, but she seems in a hurry to leave.
I wish she could stay because my thoughts invoke every emotion inside me lately. I’ve tasted fear, loneliness, despair, and hopelessness, and all I know Liv is hiding something.
The clinking of her sandals intrudes my thoughts. A whiff of perfume enters my lungs, and I imagine her dressed in a black dress and lust washes upon me. I’m about to compliment her on how beautiful she is, but that moment is stolen from the sound of the doorbell.
My heart beats profusely as Liv rushes down the stairs. Where is she going again? Why does she keep leaving me? Oh my God! Is Liv going out on a date?
I hear a return of footsteps and my emotions subside. Instead of Liv returning, I smell another scent. It overrides the sweet jasmine Liv had earlier. Now the whole room is filled with a scent of tea rose.
“Buenas noches, Señor Walters.”
Footsteps march to the bathroom. Moments later, she returns and puts a towel on top of my chest as she mumbles more in Spanish. What is she doing with my shaver? I want Liv to shave me. God forbid, I failed Spanish in high school and take no interest in the language.
She leans her body above me, and her chest touches my nose. A glimpse of my morning ritual shave enters my mind. I remember now. Yes, I used to shave every morning, but never in these pajamas.
“Vienna,” she mutters. “Vienna shave you, okay?”
“Okay.” Great! That memory is now destroyed by the foul odor of her perfume.
I allow my eyes to follow where the shaver is going, but then she stops. A sting rubs my chin.
“Sorry, sorry.” She dabs my chin.
Great, Vienna cut me. I want to yell at her to put some shaving cream on me, but she won’t understand me. I pray, hoping she hasn’t injured me yet. The motor sound tries to lull me to sleep, but my adrenaline is so strong and I want to get out of bed.
Moments later, the sound stops and I believe I dozed off. I know Vienna is in the bathroom because I can hear the faucet running. The scent of her perfume stays with me.
“Achoo.”
Did I just sneeze? Yes, I heard it right. Fuck, I can’t be stuck here. I’m going to spend the next hour trying to walk without help. Mind over matter and will power and all that.
Vienna talks to me. “Clean now, Señor Walters.”
I hear a splashing sound then like she’s squeezing water out of a face towel. Oh God, Vienna is going to give me a sponge bath. Liv should be home with me.
Something’s not right here. My wife is hiding something.
20
Day 10
Liv
After the tenth call, Aiden finally picks up.
“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her on the first night.” I whisper, pacing around my kitchen like a hamster on a treadmill.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck her.”
I never thought Aiden would take me seriously. “Where is she?”
“Relax. I’m home.”
“But you did fuck her?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” he chides.
“Damn it, Aiden.”
“Of course I did. Do you want to know how many times she came?”
I don’t say a word. Wow!
“It’s all part of the plan, Red.”
I sigh, my stomach queasy again. “What did she tell you?”
“For starters, we had drinks at her bar. Then she told me she needed some air. That’s when she took me to the skate park. You were there.”
“I noticed how you looked at her, Aiden.”
“I’m a good actor. What can I say?”
A frown crosses my lips. “Did she buy it?”
“Emily said it was a relief to talk to a stranger. She’s been mourning over David these past months and she turned
her grief into something beautiful.”
“And?” I grit my teeth, knowing how this woman can used her charm to make Aiden fall for her.
“When people ask her who the man is, she tells them it’s a man she often dreams about, a man who haunts her in her sleep. It’s part true, she says. She sees him in her dreams, and she believes they have unfinished business together.”
“Did she tell you he’s married?”
“Yes, but she claimed she wasn’t aware about it.”
“Bullshit!” I kick the wall.
“So where is your husband now, Red?”
I pretend I don’t hear him. “How did the kiss come about?”
“It was when she laid her hand on the mural of David. I could feel her emotion, her vulnerability, and that’s when I knew the time was right. I took advantage of her emotions.”
“You did an amazing job.” I set my glass on the sink.
“She’s quite profound, if you ask me. Never expected that from a twenty-two-year-old.”
I almost choked. Twenty-two? Gosh, David, what were you thinking? “The idea is for you to manipulate her. Not the other way around.”
“Of course. Don’t underestimate me, Red. I know what I’m doing, and hopefully after this is over, we can be together.”
Together? How can he be so serious about this? Aiden is in a make-believe world thinking there is an us. I might as well play along.
“Are you seeing her again?”
“Yup, taking her out on a real date tonight.”
“Where? I want to see you guys for myself.”
“All right. We’re having dinner at Cactus along Market Street.”
“That’s too noisy.”
“Trust me, Red. It will work out.”
I shut the iPhone and throw it inside my purse. My plan seems to be working. Pretty soon Emily and Aiden will be an item, and she’ll forget about David.
* * *
Later that evening, the waiter escorts me to the left corner table inside the Cactus Restaurant and Bar. He pulls out my chair then hands me the menu.
My eyes sweep the crowd. Only a few tables are still empty. Glancing at the dinner selections, I zero in on the steaks. I’m craving a juicy one. I snap my fingers at the waiter.
With eager smiles, he approaches. “Would you like to order wine and appetizers while you’re waiting?”
Lips pursed, I address him, “I’m not waiting for anyone. I would like a ribeye, medium rare―and red wine. That’s all.” I give him a faint smile, one that should admonish his presumptions of me having a date.
Instead, he expresses a wider smile. “Very well, madam. I will ensure that you get the juiciest steak.”
“Thank you.”
There’s no sign of Aiden and Emily. I check my iPhone. No messages. Minutes pass by quickly, and they’re still not there.
“Waiter.”
“Your steak is coming out.”
He’s being presumptuous again. “That’s not why I’m calling you.”
“I’m very sorry, madam.” He blushes.
“Is this the only Cactus restaurant in San Francisco?”
“The one and only, madam. Here comes your steak.” He points to another waiter who brings the plate.
I nod, but my appetite disappears.
My eyes dart toward the clock before I slice the steak and take a bite. The meat melts in my mouth as desired, and I imagine Aiden’s supple lips. I continue to chew, slice and chew again, going through the motions as the clock ticks. Still no Aiden and Emily.
Once I’m done with my meal, I take a long gulp of the wine and call Aiden. Directly to voicemail. After ten voicemails and fourteen texts, my mouth grows arid. I bite hard, and the salt and charred aftertaste of the steak is now substituted by my own flesh.
After paying my bill, I flee into the busy streets of San Francisco. Where could they be? Despite my heels, I run across the street and head for the skate park, only to find out they aren’t there.
A man wearing a hooded sweater approaches me. “Do you have a light?”
Startled, I take a step back. “I’m sorry. I don’t smoke.”
He inches so close to me I’m forced to get a good view of his face―auburn hair, droopy eyes, and thick dark circles. His fingernails are filthy, and he could use a shower. “Why are you here?”
“I’m sorry. I must have gotten lost. I’ll head back now.” I take larger steps.
“You shouldn’t come here wearing that.”
“He’s right.” Another man appears from behind him.
“I’m sorry. I got lost. I need to go home now.”
The other man looks like his brother, only much taller than him. Narrowing his gaze towards my legs, he adds, “What’s the matter? Are you scared of us?”
I need to think quickly. These men won’t harm me if I know how to play the game. Taking a deep breath, I smile. “Oh, not at all. I’m glad I’m not alone. Do you think you guys can walk me back to the main road?”
They exchange glances and shrug.
“Sure,” the first man says.
A hand rests on my chest. “Thank you. I can also get you a lighter at the store and a drink too. It’s on me.”
They lighten up and lead me back to the main road. “You’re safe now,” the taller man says.
I dig into my purse, pull out a twenty, and hand it to him. “Here.”
He takes it. “Thanks.”
I nod then cross the street, staying with a crowd for some time to calm my nerves before heading home. Phew! I’m not risking myself again. If Aiden wants to play this game, he better do it on my terms.
Once I reach home, I remind myself never to trust anyone.
21
Day 11
David
Liv leaves me again under the care of Vienna. She seems very distracted, always on the phone or pacing around the room. I can’t hear what Liv says, but the sound of her clicking heels tells me she’s seeing someone special.
Vienna watches Spanish telenovelas, and she sheds a tear once or twice. I enjoy listening to them too despite not understanding a thing. It’s better than thinking. I need to use my body more.
Last night, I had a recurring dream of Liv trying to kill me. Did she put something inside my wine?
Vienna rises from her chair and passes by my bed to go to the bathroom. Her hips hit my foot. Without hesitation, I rise from my bed, slowly exit the bedroom, and head down the stairs.
I can do it! I don’t need anybody’s help. Exhaustion creeps under my skin, but I continue to push forward. An image of my mother flashes through my mind. She used to say, “David, never give up.”
Yes, I will not give up.
22
Day 11
Liv
Christopher rests on the living room couch as I stir my tea. There are nineteen days before I go back to work and decide what I will do with David and my life. This needs to be planned thoroughly.
“The last time I saw you was on the cruise,” he muses.
“I’m sure Patrick keeps you preoccupied.”
“Sure.” He waves his hand in the air. “I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you.”
“I’ve been busy as well.” I cross my legs, wishing I could tell him everything and wondering how he would react if I did.
“How’s David? Any updates?”
“He’s walking and talking, but he hasn’t regained his memories.”
He frowns. “Don’t you hate that? How can you move on with your life? How do you even manage to live?”
Tears prickle my eyes. Perhaps I shouldn’t have drugged him, but I remind myself what he did to me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I need to tell you something.” I can’t keep my secret anymore.
“What is it?” He straightens his shoulder.
Rising from my seat, I pace around the living room. How do I break it to him? “Before David slipped into a coma, I discovered he was having an af
fair.”
Christopher covers his mouth. “No.”
“Yes.” There, I finally spit it out.
“David? David crazy-in-love David?”
“Yes. My intuition told me that he was going to break the news of leaving me.” I wipe the tears from my face. “We had a fight, and he wouldn’t stop screaming. I told him to calm down, but he pushed me into the corner. If only you saw the rage in his eyes…”
“My goodness. I never anticipated David to act that way.”
“Me neither. I slapped him and… just when he was about to hit me, he paused and then collapsed on the floor. His eyes still open.” I cover my face and sit down on the couch. “For a moment, I didn’t do anything. I hated him with all my heart, and I actually wished he would die. B-but then I came to my senses and called 911. It’s my fault, Christopher. My emotions stole the better part of me, and because of that, David is this way.”
“No, sweetie.” He embraces me from behind. “You can’t do this to yourself. You’re human, and it’s not your fault. You’re a saint to take care of him after what he did to you. You heard what the doctors said. He mixed uppers and downers with his drinks. It wasn’t your fault.”
I sob louder, facing him. “W-what would you have done if… if Patrick did that to you?”
“Trust me, lady, I would have killed the motherfucker!” He giggles before turning more serious. “You need to get over this.”
“That’s why I went on a cruise. So I could forget.”
Christopher continues to hold me tight. “This isn’t your fault, okay? You’re a strong woman, and you need to be kind to yourself.”
I nod.
“If we need to go on another cruise to help you heal, let’s do it.”
We both laugh, and a heavy load releases from my chest. At least I told Christopher half the truth.
“Who was the woman he had an affair with?” he asks gently.
“Some twenty-two-year-old slut whose daddy owns a bar.”
Thirty Days of Red Page 7
