Deborah pulled into Mari's
driveway and stared straight ahead, waiting for her friend to emerge
from her two-story townhouse. Her friend was probably still busy
inside getting herself dressed and in her best finery for church, for
husband hunting as it were, and not at all ready to go as Deborah had
hoped. Deborah just wanted to get this over with, not in the least
because it was a church service, but because a thick fog of
depression had descended on her since her break-up with Matthew. In
addition to that, James had not called her in a few days since their
last encounter and she was beginning to wonder if she had been used
for some sort of emotional rebound from the loss of Eve. Raindrops
started to fall on her windshield, slowly then faster, droplets of
water pounding on the glass like the pounding of her heart against
her beaten soul.
Across town, James sat in
Sandra's apartment. He'd been there for the last week, at least, and
had enjoyed it for the most part. The sex was good, the pot was
chill, he could kick back and be himself with Sandra, no strings
attached. The kids were decent and for the most part stuck to
themselves. None of them seemed to realize what was going on with
him and his mother, with their father in the guest bedroom. They
hadn't really been able to figure out as yet what an “open
relationship” entitled and where their parents relationship was
headed. Maybe Sandra and her husband, Sam, weren't sure about that
either, but to James, it did not matter. Or it shouldn't. He
couldn't stop thinking about Deborah and of course any sort of
enjoyment to be had that week had been clouded by this whole business
of Eve. He had purposely not gone back to his house, he shared with
his friend, Tony, in order to distract himself from the reality of it
all. The police had asked him when he had last seen Eve and he
honestly could not remember. He said that she had called him to come
over a few days ago but as far as he could remember he hadn't gone.
No reason, he had said, she was always after him for something and as
far as he was concerned the marriage and relationship was completely
over. And, Barbara the other barista had confirmed that he was at
the coffee shop the entire time. It all seemed so hazy though, his
life recently, he felt like he had moments that were complete black
outs. Maybe he was smoking too much pot, maybe that was all it was.
And Deborah? The night they had shared together, had it been just
another way to distract himself from the murder and the loss or had
it been the start of something beautiful? Had it happened at another
time, when things weren't so complicated, would they have a chance?
He felt bad for basically snatching her away from Matthew and he
wanted to at least try and make things right with him. Maybe, maybe,
at least try to explain. He sat there trying to find the words to
explain to Matthew what had happened that night, how he had been in
sucha fog that he hadn't really known what he was doing, and Deborah
was there, so sweet, smelling so nice, so attentive to his every
need, hanging on every word...and he had felt pulled to her days
before. Sandra sat down on the couch beside him and the cushions
bounced. She smiled at him, seductively, and handed him the pipe.
He took it from her, touching her hand softly and slowly as he did
so. Pressing the pipe to his lips and lighting it, he hoped this was
just yet another way to distract him from all his dark thoughts.
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