The Housewife(60)

I let go and she flops to the floor, coughing, her hand pawing at her throat .

“I didn’t sleep well,” I say as if that explained everything. “Are you all right?”

She’s still coughing. She manages to scramble upright. “I’m calling the police,” she croaks.

“Yes. You do that. Make sure to tell them you assaulted a little boy and that you’ve got a witness and you’re turning yourself in.”

She looks at me with fire in her eyes, leaning against the wall, still catching her breath.

“Let’s have a look,” I say, going over to the bowl. I surreptitiously take out the brooch from my pocket where it’s been for two days and pretend to pull it out of the bowl.

“This one?”

Her eyes grow wide. “Where did you…”

“Right here, Meredith. Right where you said it was. Maybe you should get your eyes checked. Now say you’re sorry.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Not to me, Meredith. To Mikey.”

I glance around, looking for him, and find that he’s behind me. Also that my arm is on his back, like I’m keeping him there.

I nudge him forward gently.

“We’re waiting.”

“I’m sorry,” she croaks.

I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, Mikey.”

“Good. Okay. And Meredith, just so we’re clear, if you lay one finger on this boy, I will kill you. You understand? Because honestly, at this point, it won’t make any difference to me. So I want you to be nice to Dolores and to Mikey, and again, not to labor the point, but one hair, Meredith. One hair out of place, and I will kill you. Also, don’t tell Roy. Or anyone. Because I will kill you for that, too.”

Her eyes are wide with absolute terror. She tells me that yes, she understands, and no, she won’t breathe a word to anyone, and also that she will be nice to Mikey and Dolores.

I turn around and ask Mikey, making sure to enunciate the words, hoping he can read my lips. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his little body still shuddering. How old did Dolores say he was? Eleven? He looks very small for eleven, and skinny too. But then, what do I know about children?

I straighten and turn back to Meredith, who is shaking, her back and arms flat against the wall like a cartoon character.

“Where is Dolores?” I ask.

She blinks, her lips moving. Finally, she says, “Out, running errands.”

“And you waited until she was out to treat her little boy like that?” I click my tongue, shake my head. “One hair, Meredith.”





37





It’s after midnight when Roy comes to bed, reeking of Scotch. I pretend to be asleep. Not that it matters; he stays well clear on his side of the bed, as if he can’t bear to be near me. And I’m thinking, what did I do?

Nothing, that’s what. This isn’t about me, it’s about Vee. He stood her up, and now he can’t reach her. He is miserable and he hates me for it.

I lie there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, feeling my chest tighten, biting my bottom lip until I taste blood. I think of everything he did to Deb for that woman, and what he’s doing to me, too. What is it about Veronica, anyway? I mean, she was pretty, but not that pretty. And I don’t want to judge but considering the state of her kitchen, I don’t think that woman knows how to boil an egg. So what is it that kept him going back to her when he had Deb ?

I close my eyes and breathe out. Anyway, at least that’s one problem fixed. And it’s not like I wanted to kill her. I didn’t. I just wanted her to understand that there are rules, and also, that my husband is a psychopath and he needs to be stopped.

But she didn’t believe me on the last count, and she wouldn’t listen on the first one, so here we are. I just wonder how long it will take before someone reports her missing. I wonder who it will be? Roy? Or one of the harpies?

Have you heard from dear Vee? I haven’t seen her in ages. She broke up with David, did you hear? No! Yes! How sad. I wonder how she is? Maybe I should give her a call.

And then I wonder, with a hollowing in my chest, what if Veronica had a Ring camera?

I turn over, my stomach churning, and curl up into a ball.

The next morning, Roy leaves without saying goodbye, as if somehow the fact that he stood up his lover on their rendezvous is my fault. I mean, it is, but he doesn’t know that. While he’s out, I go through his pockets. Every single pocket. And Roy has a lot of clothes—I should know, I take them to the dry cleaner myself and even iron them again if I don’t think they did a good enough job. So that’s a lot of pockets. I go through every single one of them looking for that USB thumb drive, but I don’t find it.

I’ve gone through his office inch by inch, and I know it’s not there.

Which tells me that it must be in his office downtown.

And that’s not good.

I let myself into his office and scan the floor again, in case I missed it last time, even though I don’t how I possibly could. Then, on impulse, I try the safe. I punch the numbers. 586473. I don’t expect it to open since I accidentally changed the combination…

Click.

The safe door is ajar. I take a step back as my heart jumps in my throat. Slowly, I pull the door open wider, and this time, my heart explodes in my chest, and for a second, the room tilts.