On the Edge of Dangerous Things (Dangerous Things Trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

Twenty

“And up and split and up, together…keep those arms going…” Joyce Valducci shouted commands to the grunting people in the packed pool. “Dueling Banjos” blared from her boom box. Hester was in the shallow end behind Dee and Eve trying to do jumping jacks while simultaneously making circles with her hands in water that barely came up to her hips.

Who dreams up this stuff
? She wondered as she headed around Dee and Eve and got out of the pool.

“Is there a problem, Hester?” Joyce shouted.

“No!” Hester shouted back, “just going to the ladies room!”

She didn’t have to go, it was an excuse. When she got inside the stall, she put the seat down, sat on it, and stuck her fingers in her ears to block out the loud music.

During the one week that Nina spent in Pleasant Palms, Hester insisted she go with Hester to water aerobics. Nina jumped into the cold water, and Hester was stunned by how quickly the girl’s nipples hardened and how visible they were through the thin fabric of her bikini top. Hester was tempted to tell Nina to go home and get changed into something less revealing, but she couldn’t figure out how to say it without embarrassing her.

Before the hour was up, Nina concluded that she hated water aerobics. “It’s stupid, Mrs. M,” she whispered to Hester between routines, her voice edgy, “besides it hasn’t done you any good, has it?”

Hester was a bit wounded by what Nina said. It wasn’t fair. Hester worked hard to stay fit and trim, and here was Nina, doing nothing and every inch of her body looked lean and sculpted. Al would’ve said, like a brick shit house. Hester had heard more than one man besides her husband, say, this woman or that was built like a brick shit house. Hester knew it meant that the woman being referred to had a great body, but why brick? Why shit house? Really, the comparison confounded her.

Another comparison, the one between herself and Nina, didn’t confound her, so much as depress her. When Hester was around Nina in Florida, it made her feel old. She could do water aerobics all day, every day, for the rest of her life and never again look like Nina did in her bikini. Hester would continue to age, her muscles would continue to take on adipose tissue, her bones would turn brittle, her skin sag and wrinkle. Being fifty something was what it was, and Nina was right, water aerobics were stupid. Hester could step it up, though. Start running again. Running was something Hester did briefly in the past, but stopped because Al said it took up too much of her time, and she was going to ruin her knees. And, as he warned her, he wasn’t going to be the one to push her around in a wheelchair; but now she could see, no matter what the downside was, jogging would get better results than jumping around in a pool.

Finally the music stopped and Hester came out of the ladies room. Joyce was toweling off, telling everyone, “Good job! Good job!” and pulling on a bright red T-shirt that had printed on it, “I
WINE
A LOT. I DON’T KEEP THINGS BOTTLED UP.” That made Hester smile. It felt good to smile. Maybe she’d end up liking Joyce Valducci more than she’d ever like water aerobics.

Dee and Eve were going to do some more pool walking. Since everyone else left and the music was gone, Hester, not wanting to be alone, decided to join them. She would jog tomorrow morning, early. For now walking around in the pool was better than nothing.

The women follow each other in a big circle. After about ten laps, they stood in place and bounced up and down. Sarah Kettinger breaststroked over. Her round white sunglasses hid her eyes, her long nose was covered with zinc oxide and beneath her small mouth her first chin disappeared into a fat second one which jiggled as she spoke, “You won’t believe it when I tell you.”

“What won’t we believe?” coaxed Dee.

“The Daniels got a call around midnight last night.” Sarah jerked her head from side to side. Her greater chin followed the lesser one as she checked to make sure no one was within earshot. “Their son Matt, the one who lives in Oregon with his wife and new baby, was arrested last night. I tell you my heart goes out to that family. You know how close Oscar and I are to Sandy and Dave Daniels. They are good people, the salt of the earth. I tell you I don’t know what this world is coming to. Matthew must’ve been on drugs. Drugs will be the death of this—”

“Sarah,” Dee, who had little patience for tangents, interrupted, “just get to the point.”

“Alright, anyway, their son Matt put his new baby in the microwave and turned it on.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding.” Hester honestly thought she was kidding.

“Girls, I swear on my sainted mother’s grave. He did it. He put his two month old baby girl in the microwave oven and turned it on! Judy, Matt’s wife, went for a walk and left baby Sharlene home with Matt. Matt told the police Sharlene wouldn’t stop crying no matter what he did. He tried everything and then he thought, maybe she’s cold, so he stuck her in the microwave and turned it on for a couple of seconds.”

“What the hell happened?” Dee gasped.

“Well, baby Sharlene is badly burned, in intensive care, critical condition. Matt’s in jail. But you should’ve heard Sandy on the phone, ‘My son would never do anything to hurt anyone. He loved that baby. He would never hurt her. You know Dave and I didn’t raise him like that. He’s a good boy. Really he is.’ Well, I’m thinking, is she kidding? A ‘good boy,’ a nutcase is more like it. Then she claims, ‘He’s never done anything wrong in his whole life.’ Right?”

Hester was sick to her stomach. She trudged away from the women to the ladder and climbed out of the deep end.
More fodder for nightmares
, she thought as she grabbed her things and walked home.

Al was polishing the used golf cart he’d just bought. He looked up at Hester as she was draping her wet towel over the lounge. “There’s something on the counter for you.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“A surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“Oh hell, Hester, just go in and look.”

He’s frustrated with me? If he only knew,
Hester was tempted to tell him the last thing she wanted from him was another surprise, but thought better of it and went inside the trailer. A small gift box was on the counter. Under it was a card. She opened that first. It was one of those thinking-of-you Hallmark cards. There was a little man on the front with a thought bubble over his head. In it, it said, “Thinking of you…” Inside the card it said in big letters, “…always makes me happy!” Al signed it, “Al.”

Hester couldn’t ignore the narcissistic subtext of the message.
I get a card from him telling me how damn happy he is. Well, what about me? Am I happy? Will I ever be again?
She took a deep breath and tossed the card back on the counter, rather than in the trash, which is where she really thought it belonged.

Hester halfway already knew that whatever was in that box, it wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Bringing Nina back to life, or being able to prove Al was innocent, or calling the police and telling them where Nina was buried, or ending her marriage, or all of the above might make her feel better.

Hester picked up the gift. The wrap was sparkly silver, the ribbon pink. It looked like a gift for a much younger woman, not for old Hester Randal Murphy, who felt like she was drifting away on the tide of time, her existence becoming more vapid and miserable by the minute. Al, though, thought Nina was still alive, back in New Jersey, back in college, partying with kids her own age. If Hester didn’t have the backbone to tell him the truth, turn him in, leave him, then she deserved to live in torment.

She had no backbone. There was no way out. She invested the best years of her life in being Mrs. Murphy, and she didn’t have the strength to start over, to try to be somebody else, to try to be who she really was.

Hester wasn’t surprised when she unwrapped the box and it was a ring box, but she wasn’t prepared for the wide, brilliant diamond encrusted band. It was so beautiful, it made her cry. She looked up, and Al was watching her from the doorway.

“It’s a belated Christmas gift, and…” He hesitated. “Thanks.” But he didn’t say for what, and Hester didn’t ask. She wiped away the tears as Al came into the kitchen and reached for her hand. Hester watched him as he took the ring and put it on the third finger of her right hand.

“I saw in one of your magazines about how women are buying their own diamonds for their right hands to show the world that they feel good about themselves. I knew you would never splurge on something like this, so I did it for you. You should feel very, very good about yourself, Hester.”

He sounded like he was reading advertising copy. Hester didn’t know how to react. Al’s hand was on her wrist, his touch warm and familiar. Hester leaned back against the sink. Al tilted his head and tried to get her to look into his eyes. She did. He had wonderful, intense eyes. Al ran both his hands up Hester’s arms to her shoulders. He massaged them and reach around to the back of her neck and massaged the stiffness out of it. Then he was stroking her décolletage, his hands just above her breasts. Each motion lifting them, almost imperceptibly.

Hester didn’t move. She looked down at Al’s hands. They seemed as though they were touching someone else. Why was she letting Al put his hands on her? Hadn’t she resolved never to let him touch her again? Hadn’t she drawn a line in her mind that she wouldn’t cross?

She’d live with him because she couldn’t live without him, but that would be all. He would pay for things, he would take care of her, and get nothing in return. That was the way she wanted it. Yet here he was, slipping one strap of her bathing suit off her shoulder, then the other. The top of her nipple was showing. As he leaned forward, she felt his breath on her face. His lips were warm on her neck.

For nearly two months, Hester had not once touched, nor been touched by her husband. She believed, in fact, she’d been permanently cured of her prior physical obsession for him. Since their bedroom roof still had not been fixed, she slept on the couch, and he moved into the guest room and was sleeping in the same bed, on the same sheets, for Christ’s sakes, Nina slept on.

So what was happening now? Why wasn’t she pushing him away? Squirming out of his arms? Running for her life?

But Al had Hester’s face in his hands, ran his fingers through her hair, down her back. His tongue traced a wet path from her neck to her cleavage as he pulled her suit down to her waist. He cupped her breasts in his hands and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging on them, staring at them.

Hester was paralyzed.
Stop him. Make him stop.
She closed her eyes.
It’s not Al. It’s someone else.
It felt so good. Al’s mouth was on her nipple, sucking it. He stopped and yanked her bathing suit to the floor. She stepped out of it as if in a daze, and he lifted her onto the kitchen counter. He spread her legs and kissed her between them. When he put his tongue in her, her orgasm was so swift and powerful, she thought she’d been struck by lightning.

Al eased her down from the counter and hugged her. His body was hot, his thin shirt damp with sweat. He lifted her head and kissed her gently, sucking her lower lip between his lips. He forced his tongue into her mouth. Hester was jammed against the counter. Al’s penis was hard as a rock. She reached into his pants and found it.

When it was over, Al took a step away from her, and Hester, not sure what to do, put her swimsuit back on. They looked at each other, but Hester didn’t know what to say. She began to feel badly. Al looked so satisfied, so relieved, but she only felt guilty. Hester could barely hear the sea pounding the shore a block away because blood was rushing through her head making it throb. What they’d done had felt unbelievably good, yet she’d broken the promise she’d made to herself. She was disgusted with herself.

Damn it. She walked past Al, grabbed her cover-up from the arm of the couch and the car keys from the hook in the hallway, and headed out the door.

“Hester, what’s wrong? Where are you going?” Al was tying the string to his sweatpants. He tried to follow her, but she shouted over her shoulder.

“To Home Depot.”

“I’ll come,” he was behind her.

Goddamn you, Al, you already did
, is what popped into her head.

“I don’t want you to come!” She got in the car and drove away.

Hester didn’t know why she went to Home Depot. Either here or a sleazy bar, she figured as she wandered up and down each aisle. She was desperate to distract herself from what had just happened. It was too much for her to sort out at the moment.

She started in lumber and checked the price of a length of crown molding, turned down the plumbing aisle, and looked at tub faucets, continued on to hardware and counted six different kinds of chain saws. A pink tool kit caught her eye. She thought about purchasing it. She’d never fixed anything around the house in her life, but maybe she should start to learn. She leafed through wallpaper catalogues and inspected the large area rugs that hung from ceiling rods. She ran her hand along the tops of the granite counters in the sample kitchens. In the paint department, she read the names on the paper swatches of all of the green paints. Sage, shamrock, lime, roller-coaster… In electric fixtures she spent a good deal of time picking her favorite ceiling fan, and in seasonal she sat in one of the outdoor bar stools and watched a couple argue about how much to spend on a gas grill. The man won, and they got the most expensive model: rotisserie, three burners, warming tray.