
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
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Sheila, still surly, dropped our food on the table. Pancakes for me, of course. I seemed to have run through the little goodwill my association with Janie afforded me. I tried to keep the conversation going over the meal, but Janie only gave me short, clipped answers while she repeated her birdlike performance of eating.
"Were there any other conditions for your marriage?"
A shrug. Another delicate bite from her omelet. "None that mattered so much."
"Such as?"
"Hygiene, perhaps."
"But the reports from Hollow Hill Farm made it sound like a nightmare. Hoarding, infestations --"
"Didn't I just tell you?" The words surged from her with fury, barbed and bristling. "It didn't matter."
I let my attempts lapse. She focused on her eggs, and I focused on her. For the first time, I noticed the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand was actually two -- a solitaire diamond and a gold band. I wondered if Antonio had given them to her. I wondered why, if she was so insistent that she hadn't 'stayed' with him, she would still wear his rings. Finally, she patted her mouth for the last time and placed the napkin back on the table.
"Where were we?" she asked with a smile, her tone sugared. Between her and Sheila, I was getting whiplash.
"You mentioned that financial stability was important for you. Did you grow up poor?"
"No, and I was resolute that I never would be." She shivered in disgust. "I couldn't imagine the shame of it, owning nothing. It's why I went to the women's college. I saw what the boys of Camden had to offer. Nothing but groping hands and empty pockets."
"You attended Douglass, right?" She nodded. "But never graduated."
"I didn't need to. I met Antonio at a social in my sophomore year. We were married by the spring."
"And what attracted you to him?"
"Oh, he was a fine specimen." Her face eased into a dreamy haze that made her look ten years younger. "Clean clothes and thick hair. Unfailingly polite. Nothing like his classmates, all draft dodgers smoking grass and wearing the same t-shirts for days on end. He asked me for a dance. He kept his hands where he ought. He invited me to a movie and repeated the trick."
"And when did you see who he really was?" I asked. Her face closed, wrinkles returning heavier with disapproval.
"I thought I told you, nothing salacious today. Besides, you say that like he wore a mask. No, Antonio was always the same with me, even at our worst."
"Then why did you file for divorce?"
"He broke the terms. He refused to give me a third child. I relented when he did. Next, he ran our business into the ground. That was that."
"But you must agree -- he was a different person in the world than in your house."
"No, I mustn't. You forget. He killed many of those men inside my house." She spat the words like they were poison. "This is exactly why I didn't want to touch on Antonio so quickly. You're making assumptions. Hear me now: the man I married was always the same. If he changed, it was only in context." She sighed and picked her purse up from the booth beside her. "This conversation has gone off the rails. I can see you don't quite understand our agreement. I'll give you a night to think."
"Come on, Janie," I wheedled. "I didn't mean --"
But she was already across the floor, shaking her head at Sheila as she went.
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Read on to Chapter 7
About the Creator
Suze Kay
Pastry chef by day, insomniac writer by night.
Find here: stories that creep up on you, poems to stumble over, and the weird words I hold them in.
Or, let me catch you at www.suzekay.com
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