The Housewife(73)

I sigh, prop the rifle against the kitchen counter.

“You have me all wrong,” I say.

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

I open the cupboards above the bench. “I’m starving. Are you starving?”

I open the bread box and pull out a loaf of golden, crusty bread, set it on the cutting board and cut two slices. I look at Marie over my shoulder. “What do you want on your sandwich?”

“What are you doing?”

I walk into the pantry. I return with a jar in each hand. “How about peanut butter and jelly? Everybody loves peanut butter and jelly.”

“Okay! Enough games, Jodie. Untie me.”

“Did you know my name wasn’t always Jodie?” I ask, one hand on my waist.

A beat. “What was it?”

“Have I ever told you about my sister?”





45





I come to stand in front of Marie. “My mother used to tell me to keep my mouth shut. She’d say it all the time. My mouth was trouble, she’d say. She was right. No good deed comes from talking too much. Take you, for instance. All this time I thought it was Roy who killed Deb. Do you know how close you came to getting away with killing my sister?”

Marie’s mouth is trembling, the corners turned down. All that self-satisfied smugness, gone. Whoosh!

“You’re Deborah’s sister?” she asks in a small voice.

“Didn’t she tell you about me?”

She nods, her eyes filling with fear. “Joanne. You were away.”

“That’s the euphemism, yes.” I hold a thumb and finger close together. “You came this close. I came here because I thought Roy killed her. If only you’d kept your mouth shut, we would be taking that video to the police right now.”

She shakes her head violently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, I think it’s a bit late for that, Marie.”

I start spreading my peanut butter on both slices of bread, slather some jelly on the sandwich.

“Listen to me, Jodie. I know I made some mistakes. But I can make it up to you. Roy will still believe me over you. That’s a fact. But I can help you.” And I’m thinking, if she keeps talking like that, I’m going to cut off her head. “Here’s what I suggest,” she says, which is a funny thing to say for someone who is sitting in a chair with her wrists tied behind her back while wearing a rather cumbersome, multilayered wedding dress.

“You untie me, you pack your bag and go far, far away from here. And you’re never going to come back, we’re never going to see each other again, we will forget we even existed. There’s no proof I did anything to Deborah, so at this point the only person who has committed a crime is you. Against me. And Roy is going to be back any minute, and you’ll get caught. But if you release me now, I promise I won’t tell anyone that you tried to kill me.”

I laugh. “Oh, Marie, I haven’t tried to kill you yet! But put yourself in my shoes! While I went into this marriage with a very specific goal in mind, the fact remains that before I married Roy, I had nothing. I lived in a tiny apartment above the Chinese restaurant where I got my first job out of jail—”

“What jail? ”

I raise a hand. “Never mind about that. My point is, I live here now.” I make a sweeping gesture. “You think I want to go back to that little room above the Chinese restaurant? I don’t even know if it’s still available, but let’s say that it is. That’s asking a lot, Marie.”

“You’re right, of course you’re right! But think about it. You’ll get arrested if you don’t let me go now. And Roy’s been very generous. He’s given you some very nice jewelry. You can keep that.”

I pull down a glass from the cabinet, then change my mind. “Hey,” I exclaim. “Shall I get out the Steuben?”

“I don’t want your stupid sandwich!” she shouts. Her face is trembling. She’s been crying and her mascara is making tracks on her cheeks.

She shakes the chair. “Untie me, for Christ’s sake!”

I go into the living room and through to the dining room to the special cabinet where we keep the special crystal and take a glass out. I can hear her from here, bouncing around, dragging the chair, calling for help.

I return holding up the glass.

“I know the Steuben is only for special occasions, but I think this counts as one, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you really need to untie me now. This joke is no longer funny.”

“Oh!” I laugh. “The joke hasn’t even started.” I put the glass inside a tea towel and I wrap it tightly.

“What are you doing?”

“Just wait for the punch line,” I say. I smash the glass against the edge of the counter .

“What are you doing?” Marie shrieks again. I open the tea towel and examine the shards of crystal. They’re perfect. Not too small, not too big. I grab a handful and drop them over her sandwich. Then I sprinkle some more. “Oh, screw it. Let’s put the whole lot in.” I shake the tea towel over the open sandwich, then slap the other slice of bread on top, press down with my hand and cut the sandwich in half. I hand her the plate. “There you go.”