Dishonor Thy Wife (17 page)

BRAD

GRAVES ARE TOUGH TO DIG even with the most expensive shovel
a brother’s credit can buy. No one appreciates what I do, especially Jayden. I
imagine my selfish brother lying in the shallow grave but the image freaks me
out because we are identical. Believe me, it is no picnic being Brad O’Boyle
and
Jayden Tremblay.

It would be so much easier on my tired arms if it would only
rain.

Do bones float?

Does anyone know about the flotation properties of
skeletons?

Anybody?

Huh?

Because, really, this grave-digging shovel may be wearing a
dapper hockey baseball hat but the spade is not talking. Why is it that all
sports have baseball hats in like 21 colors, as if that makes any sense.

A plus about a shovel—the blunt tool does not have a big
mouth like a dead woman.

Okay, now I am imagining Barbie in the grave staring up at
the dark sky with doll eyes, glassy and unmoving.

The grave next to me is just the right size for Vanessa.

Seriously, 5500 pounds of dirt stuffed in her mouth would
make Jayden’s wife quit singing.

* * *

JAYDEN

Brad phoned telling me he finally dumped Vanessa. I asked
him for one more day, leaving out the fact that I was taking his wife to the Texas
Doctors’ Ball.

Note: Do not confuse sex with love. You are not losing your
heart to your sister-in-law. There is no danger of falling in love with Ronni.
Not likely. Not ever. Nada. You just feel sorry for her, poor pathetic thing
never went to her prom.

For the ball, I wore a pair of cufflinks that do not belong
to my brother. Ronni gave
me
the cufflinks as a thank you for inviting
her. The cufflinks were
mine
even though the initials etched in gold
read
BO
for Brad O’Boyle. She had no idea the cufflinks were her going
away present to me.

The dinner and dance was in the Capital Ballroom at the
Intercontinental Stephen F. Austin Hotel in downtown Austin. We danced slowly
beneath a crystal chandelier. She looked stunning in a velvet black gown with
her hair piled on her head and diamond studs in her ears. The earrings were my
gift—
thanks for all the good sex, sister-in-law
. Technically, Brad’s
credit card paid for the earrings and his practice already paid the bill so he
will never know.

I quit lying to myself during a slow dance to
Moon River,
one of the most romantic songs every written. I have been a logical man my
entire life and the electricity that cackled whenever I was around Ronni,
drawing me to her until my heart slammed against my chest, well it felt like
ice poured down my back. When with her, I tingled with excitement in
anticipation of tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

How can life ever turn out like a fairy tale for a
tarnished prince like me?

No matter how many diamonds I might buy her, she will
never forgive me.

Ronni must have mistaken my groaning for passion because she
took me in her arms and pulled me even closer, held me even tighter, drawing me
into her even more. She pushed her body closer, shoving her leg in between
mine.

I dirty-danced right back.

Then we came together like two people in love, not just
lust, in those sweet moments of dancing.
Witch,
I thought as everyone
else in the room faded until we were the only couple. Everything moved in slow
motion.

We made love in the back seat of Brad’s Mercedes in the
parking lot of the hotel with her black velvet dress hiked up around her knees
and my pants down around my ankles. Car sex with Ronni was better than any sex
I ever had at the swankiest hotel with any other woman.

I drove Ronni home with her head on my shoulder and her hand
squeezing my knee.

I parked in the driveway, making an excuse that it was
easier to carry her from the car to the front door. Yeah, I carried my
sister-in-law over the threshold of the front door as if we just got hitched. I
was suffering from temporary insanity, temporary because I would soon be gone,
like tonight.

I whispered into her ear, “I’m sorry for everything that’s
happened in the past. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“You’re apologizing to me, Brad?” she said in a voice choked
with tears. “You’ve changed, Brad. You are sensitive, kind, attentive, and a
real father to our daughter.”

I kissed her if only to make her shut up about what a great
guy I was
and to make her
stop calling me by my brother’s name. Fear and longing jumbled up my mind along
with guilt. Even worse, my heart quickened whenever she entered a room. My
senses were drawn to her every breath, step, and sigh. I swore I could even
hear her heart beating. I just…it would be better if my sister-in-law stayed
feisty instead of nice. Ronni made me feel vulnerable when she showed her
gentle side. I felt like protecting her.

We made love again, at my urging and I prayed this dying
feeling in my chest might go away, but it did not.

While Ronni lay sleeping beside me, I stayed wide-awake, making
my plans. This time I must be strong enough to leave her for good because I was
in way over my head. The scariest part of the night, when I lay in the dark
listening for things that go bump in the night, I actually had the incredible
thought that if my brother died, then no one need ever know.

It was best to leave Ronni while I was still sane because
the thought of my brother dying flitted through my mind, teasing me for just a second,
or two. I imagined the many ways Brad might die—accidents, food poisoning, heart
attack, brain tumor, murder.

Moreover, I saw a vivid image of Brad in his coffin, only it
was my own face and obituary,
Dr. Jayden Tremblay dead in Canada
, and
Brad buried in my place.

The thought of my brother’s death was appalling.

I had better leave while I could find something of Jayden
Tremblay still in me. I could not spend the rest of my life pretending to be
another man, faking my way through life just to bed Ronni O’Boyle.

If I left now, no one would get hurt. Ronni need never know.

I stayed a minute longer, listening to her soft breathing.

I snuck out of bed, stood on shaky legs, and leaned over
her, softly kissing her forehead.

I could not possibly love Ronni; really love her, like in
the real thing and not the caught-up-in-the-prom moment. My stomachache was
just something disagreeable I ate at the ball. My trembling hands were due to
buttoning my pants in the dark. My itchy, watery eyes, well that was allergies.
Everyone gets what Austinites call
Cedar Fever
and I was certainly
feverish, feeling as if the flu gutted me.

I tiptoed down the stairs to the basement and examined the
rocking horse. It would not take much more to finish the horse.

My hand shook as I painted the face, and I had to keep
wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

The thought of leaving Ronni barely made me flinch now that I
tightened my jaw and set my mind to leaving, but the thought of not being able
to see Traci grow up, well the pain was almost unbearable. Traci had become
more than a niece to me. She had been my daughter for two months.

Children grow up so quickly. They sprout so many inches a
year, lose their teeth, and get adult teeth. Their faces change. Will I even
recognize Traci if I saw her ten years from now?

How could I even think of never seeing my daught…niece
again?

For just a minute, the crazy thought fluttered through my
mind for the zillionth time that maybe Brad could tell Ronni he found a brother
and then I could come and visit.

Yeah, and see Ronni with Brad? Her husband? Your Brother?
The two of them husband and wife! You stupid idiot! Get the notion out of your
mind right now and forever. Ronni might guess the truth if she saw you and Brad
together!
My inner voice was right. There was no way I could pull off visiting
without Ronni discovering our lies. I could never look at her as if she was
just a sister-in-law and I had not made love to her in almost every way known
to man. My lips had been all over her, branding her as mine.

But she isn’t yours and never will be, especially if she
ever learns the truth about how you made a fool out of her and what a liar you
are, you despicable human being! No, you are an inhuman, unfeeling man!

You are wrong. I feel too much.

I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. There. The horse was finished.

I carried the rocking horse upstairs to Traci’s bedroom and
set the horse down at the foot of her bed. I still had a minute so watched
Traci sleep. Her stringy hair stuck up from her head adorably as if she stuck
her finger in a light socket.

I kissed her cheek.

She reached out a small hand, clutching the blanket.

I pulled the covers higher to her chin.

Traci stirred and I dreaded her waking. I would lose it to
tell her good-bye in person
and
probably confess all my sordid sins to Traci. The last thing the kid needed was
to be a sounding board for my sorry life.

Traci sucked on her tongue and fell back into a deep sleep.

I had no right to anything but a guilty conscience, yet I
grabbed the picture of Traci on the nightstand.

I stood in the early morning dusk, the sun just rising. I
stared at Ronni’s sleeping face, memorizing the lines of her skin.
I will
never see her again,
I thought. I dismissed the option of Brad dying. He
was a healthy twin brother who would probably live as long as I would. We shared
the exact DNA. Our hearts would probably stop beating at the same moment. There
was a connection between identical twins, as if we shared one heart, one brain…one
woman.

I daydreamed about my brother’s wife, including her in my
plans, thinking about how she might fit into my life. Well, I did have a life
once upon a time. I had better leave before the next option possessed me, Ronni
divorcing Brad.

I tiptoed out the front door,
climbed
into Brad’s black Mercedes, and backed out of the driveway, headed to the
Austin Bergstrom Airport and Canada. I retraced my wheels back to my beginnings
when life was easier and emotions did not churn my stomach.

Barbie’s gun was still in the glove compartment, and I did
not want the hassle of explaining to Brad how I happened to have his
girlfriend’s gun. She must have more than one pistol because Barbie never
called to ask me about it, or else the dingbat forgot where she left her gun.

Since 9/11 happened, lockers were no longer available to
rent at airport terminals, so I pulled into a self-storage place located near
the airport. Many locals rented drive-in storage units because it was cheaper
to park their cars in them than to pay for long-term airport parking. I, of
course, asked for a mini-storage unit and left Barbie’s gun in it. I rented the
space in both Barbie’s name and my name and paid cash. My plans were to mail
her the locker key, along with the address.

Brad arranged for us to switch at the Seattle airport. He
was cleaning his nails and did not notice how cold I was to him. I felt like
punching his face in. I rubbed his initials on the cufflinks Ronni had given
me
.
At this moment, I felt unadulterated hatred for Brad. These last two weeks away
from Austin seemed to agree with my brother. Brad looked rested and happy
whereas I felt like never going back to Canada.

Brad slapped me on the back, seemingly not offended by my
glittering eyes.

He walked to his gate with his chest puffed out, handed his
ticket over, and disappeared from my life to board his plane to Austin.

An image came to my mind of the plane carrying my brother
crashing to the ground. His identification burned in the rubble and no one but
me knew that Brad was flying from Seattle to Austin.

Then what would I do—spend the rest of my life impersonating
Brad O’Boyle?

BRAD

Once again, there are roses in my house, but this time
stuffed in the trashcan in the basement laundry room. My shirt is half-off, one
sleeve on, the other sleeve off and I am stunned at the note with the flowers:
How
about going with me to the dance Saturday night? A ball the doctors are having
for charity?

“What the fu...?” My brother asked my wife out on a date!

My nostrils flare at an image of Jayden and Ronni slow
dancing, his hands cupping my wife’s butt, one hand holding each cheek, him lifting
his hand up her skirt, and doing it right there on the dance floor, grinding
my
wife in front of
my
colleagues. Jayden is making a fool of me. I will never
be able to show myself at another doctor’s event. Austin is
my
territory.
Ronni is
my
wife.

I rip off my shirt, popping a few buttons, and stuff the
shirt into the washing machine, swearing to wring my brother’s neck.

If Jayden did betray me with my wife, then what would stop
him from sleeping with my girlfriend? If a wedding ring does not keep Jayden
from respecting what is
mine
, then surely he must have... his phone
calls and messages about Barbie wanting him—Jayden has been chasing after her!

The image is so repulsive, so distressing, but I have to
know
for certain, not about Jayden and Ronni,
that can wait. The image of my brother and Barbie in bed, butt-naked, eats my
insides like scorpions and tarantulas are chewing on my liver, green poison
spilling into my veins. If Jayden touched her…if that stooge hit on Barbie…

“Calm down. Take a deep breath. Barbie would never cheat on
me. She is a kidder, like me. Barbie has never really wanted Jayden. She loves
me
.”
My brother is giving me an ulcer. I shove a fist against the middle of my
ribcage and massage a ball of stress.

Oh, God, there is another ball bulging from my back and I
drop to my knees and shove my head between my legs.

Jayden left behind a shirt with his initials JT stitched
across the pocket.
Creep has to stamp his initials across everything he
owns, everything I own.
I wanted to take a knife to those initials and rip
out the threads and then slice across the shirt where his heart would be, but his
shirt will come in handy.

I yank the shirt from the hangar and fling my arms into the
blue shirt with Jayden’s initials. It takes three tries to button the shirt
straight

I almost trip over Traci on the stairs.

She jumps a step back.

“What are you staring at?” I growl, trying to control my
temper and not transfer my fury from Jayden to my daughter. Her lip trembles at
the initials JT on the shirt. “Boo!”

She screeches and runs down the stairs.

I secretly care for Traci but enjoy goading Ronni so I put
the girl down occasionally.

 Buttoning my suit jacket hides my brother's initials.

Ronni sits in the den as if waiting for me. No, my wife is waiting
for my brother so they can bang each other on
my
floor in
my
house.
No wonder she acted so nice on my last visit and cooked a steak for a romantic
candlelit dinner. Hooker!

Ronni flashes a big smile, her eyes warm and cuddly.

I peer back at her, trying to melt her with my x-ray vision.
“So how did you like the dance?”

She smiles lazily and crosses her legs so that her skirt rises
up as if she is inviting me to...Ronni never invited
me
. My wife loathes
me
but now she is looking all lovey-dovey and starry eyed. “The dance
was wonderful,” she says in an airy voice and plays with her hair. “I had a
great time, Brad.”

You mean Jayden!

She rubs salt in my wounds. “I never knew you could dance. I
still remember that night when we met at the bar how clumsy you were.”

Now Jayden dances better than I do! Vanessa implied Jayden
was better in bed than I was. My brother is heavy in bed and light on his feet.
Is there no wonder at Jayden’s talents? “Maybe it’s you who’s gotten to be a better
dancer,” I snap. “You always moved like you had no class but then I guess that
just comes natural to you doesn’t it?”

Her face falls. Ha!

“You even copulate like you have no class.” I make a nasty
gesture with my hands and hump my body. “Know what copulate means, you high
school dropout or do you want to play charades again?” I grab the front of my
pants.

Ha! Her face wilts.

The cunt deserves a slap for not denying she slept with my
brother. If Ronni were innocent she would say, “How would you know how I
copulate, Brad? I have not slept with you since the night you got me pregnant
with Traci. Remember the night I trapped you into marriage?”

All of sudden Ronni is nosy and wants to know where I am
going. I tell her bluntly that Barbie is meeting me.

Ronni goes berserk and slaps
me
, nearly scratching my
eye out.

I storm from the house with her running after me.

My crazy wife jumps on the hood of my car, begging me not to
go.

I am sorely tempted to put the car in drive and smash Ronni
against the garage wall like a cheating cockroach. What is going on with her?
She never attacked me before or cared what I did.

I jerk the car in reverse, slam my foot against the gas pedal,
and roar out of the garage, headed downtown.

My archenemy, Jayden, has hurled a wad of kryptonite at me,
which is blinding green, the color of pathological jealousy. All I can see is
Jayden in bed with Barbie.

My shoulders are rounded and I am clutching my stomach,
poisoned by kryptonite. Nobody notices me vomit on Sixth Street since drunks
are commonplace, especially college students who walk over from the dorms.

I stumble into The Blind Pig Pub and swallow a stiff drink for
courage. Quick, I punch in a name on my cell phone.

I lose consciousness as my skin turns greener, waiting for
Barbie to pick up the phone.

“Hello,” she answers.

I am having an out-of-body experience and speak as if in a
tunnel. “This is Jayden, you remember, Brad’s identical twin brother?”

Oh, of course she does! How can anyone forget kind, gentle
Jayden, the new-and-improved Brad?