How to Kill Your Husband (6 page)

“What's on?”

“The stakeout.”

“For real?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “It's on. Becky wants to go, too.”

“
Cool
! You must have put on your big-girl drawers this morning. What changed your mind?”

“When George came home late last night,” Claire said, “he smelled like a
fresh shower
.”

“I told you.”

“Don't say that. We still might be wrong.”

“Maybe,” Melanie said. “If we are, no harm done. But if we're not, we're going to
get his ass
. I want to run up on him with a camera like they do on Cheaters.”

Claire laughed, but none of this was funny, not really. What they were joking about may very well be the end of life as she knew it.

“We gonna get his ass,” Melanie said again.

“Don't forget,” Claire said, “we want to find him doing
nothing
wrong. If he's cheating, that's like, the worst-case scenario.”

“Ooh, I'm sorry, girl. I told you, I get so wrapped up in the
hate
—”

“It's okay,” Claire said. “I'm pretty sure we'll all be wrapped up in hate by the end of it.”

* * *

Claire went out so infrequently that she decided to break the news to the kids before they got home. On Friday nights (when George had poker night with the guys) Claire usually rented a movie everyone wanted to see and gathered the kids in the living room for family time. She would make popcorn, or popcorn balls, or whatever else they wanted, and they would genuinely enjoy each other's company.

After the movie, Claire was known to declare a few hours of Electronics Free time. The goal was to get the kids to play a board game with her, but if they wanted to read a book, that was fine, too, so long as they stayed in the living room.

But instead of making her announcement, Claire sat outside of Humboldt High School looking over the note Stacy's teacher sent home with her. Stacy fidgeted in the backseat, very near panic. By the time she was done reading, Claire wanted to reach back there and grab her by the hair.

“Why the hell would you
cheat
on a science test?” Claire's face was set in a deep scowl. She turned in her seat so she could watch her daughter's eyes.

Stacy couldn't respond right away. She scooted back as far as she could, but unless she was going to get in the trunk, there was no escape.

“
You answer me
!”

George Jr. cowered wide-eyed in the front seat. He flinched when his mother screamed, as if she struck him.

“
I, I, I, I didn't
-” Stacy's bottom lip quivered like she was freezing.

“You didn't
what
? Don't tell me you didn't do it, girl. I'll slap the black off you!”

Stacy didn't have much melanin to begin with, but Claire's mom always told her that, and it sort of trickled down subconsciously.

“It was
Crystal
,” Stacy blurted. “
She
made that for me.”

Stacy was referring to the cheat-sheet her teacher sent home with the letter. Claire already knew it wasn't written in her daughter's handwriting, but she wanted to hear Stacy say it herself.

“Why would Crystal make
you
a cheat-sheet?”

“I don't know…”

“Why'd you use it?”

“I didn't, not really.”

“You calling your teacher a liar?”

“I had it on my desk,” Stacy admitted. “But I wasn't looking at it!”

Claire thought these explanations were getting more and more ignorant. “Why'd you have it on your desk, then, Stacy?”

“Crystal gave it to me. She made one for herself and another one for me—but I wasn't looking at it.
I swear
.”

Claire studied her daughter's face, and she suddenly understood everything perfectly. “So why didn't you tell Crystal you didn't need it? Even better, why didn't you tell Crystal she shouldn't cheat, either? Are you that much of a
follower
? You would rather pretend to cheat than tell her you could pass the test without her help?”

“She said it was hard,” Stacy explained. “She said she failed the other one.”

“What's that got to do with
you
?”

“I, I, I—”

“You're a
follower
,” Claire said, realization slowly dawning. “So now instead of making an A on this test like you were going to, you got a zero so you could be
cool
. Was it worth it? You smoke cigarettes in the bathroom, too?”

“No.”

“You skip classes sometimes so you can get high? You smoking
weed
, girl?”

“No
,
Mama.”

“Why not?” Claire barked. “You want to do what everybody else does.”

“No, I don't,” Stacy said. She was crying now.

Claire didn't even know her oldest daughter was out yet, but when she looked up Nikki walked around the front of the Lexus and got in behind her mother. She looked around from Stacy's to George's to Claire's face.

“Why everybody mad?”

“Why
is
everyone mad?” Claire corrected. She sighed loudly and backed out of her parking spot, glad to be headed home.

“What's wrong with you?” Nikki asked her sister when they got on the freeway.

Claire watched the girls in the rearview, but Stacy didn't want to share.

“She got caught cheating at school,” Claire said. “She made a
zero
on her test, and now she's mad cause she can't use the phone for two weeks.”

“
Two weeks
?” Stacy looked like she got shot.

“The computer, either,” Claire said.

“But I use the computer for my homework,” Stacy whined.

“If you want to do some research, you can use
my
computer,” Claire offered, “in
my
room while I'm sitting there watching your sneaky self.”

“I thought you liked science…” Nikki said to her sister.

“Oh,” Claire interrupted. “That's the best part:
Miss Attitude
didn't even need to cheat. She just did it so her friend would think she's cool.”

Nikki giggled.

“Don't laugh at me!” Stacy spat.

“Don't yell at your sister!” Claire shouted. “If you weren't such a
follower
, this never would have happened!”

“I'm not a follower!”

“Prove it!” her mom snapped back.

George Jr. giggled. “We should watch a movie about not being a follower tonight,” he suggested.

Stacy kicked the back of his seat. “Shut up!”

“You keep your feet on the floor!” Claire warned. She knew her anger was being misdirected, but it was hard to be civil right now. She sighed. “I can't watch a movie with you guys tonight,” she told George Jr. “Mommy has something to do.”

“What?” he asked.

“You gonna do your insurance stuff?” Nikki guessed.

“No.”

“You gonna work on your crosswords?” George Jr. asked.

“No.”

“You gonna clean the bathrooms?” Nikki pondered.

“
No
,” Claire said, a little chagrined that her life was so boring and predictable.

“What
are
you doing tonight, Mommy?” little George asked.

And here it was: For the first time in recent memory, Claire had to lie to her children. She gritted her teeth and wondered how George Sr. was able to spout mistruths so easily.

“Me and Becky are going to the movies,” she said.

Little George swallowed it easily enough, but Nikki said, “Really?”

“Yes. What's wrong with that?”

“You
never
go out, Mom.”

“I know. But I'm not in jail; I can if I want to.”

“Who's going to take care of us?” George Jr. asked.

Claire grinned at him. “Your sister's fourteen years
old,” she said. “And Becky's daughter is coming over, too, to help out.”

“Courtney?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah.”

“Ooh, I like Courtney,” George Jr. said.

“That's good,” Claire said, and she meant it. It was hard enough leaving her children with a babysitter. She didn't think she could do it if they were opposed.

CHAPTER SIX

THE STAKEOUT

Claire got the kids started on their homework, and then she showered and changed for her night out with the girls. She had no idea what to wear to a
stake-out
, but she figured the less flashy the better. She put on blue jeans with a white T-shirt and white sneakers. She pulled her hair back in a pony tail and went back downstairs to start dinner.

Melanie called while she was rinsing carrots.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Claire. It's me. I'm just now getting off.”

“I'm getting the kids' dinner ready,” Claire said.

“It's still on?” Melanie asked. “You haven't changed your mind, have you?”

“No,” Claire said. “I'm still going. I already showered and got dressed. George will be here at six, and he leaves at
six-thirty
. We need to get in position before then.”

“I'm gonna go home and change, and I'll be ready,” Melanie promised.

“You don't have to cook dinner?” Claire asked.

“No. I already told Rodney I was going out with you. How you feeling?”

“Like shit. My stomach's upset. Stacy got caught cheating on a test today. I had to yell at her on the way home. I'm already stressed.”

“You need to beat her ass,” Melanie advised.

“Maybe,” Claire said, but they both knew she wasn't going to do it. In fourteen years of parenting, she hardly ever had to get physically violent with her offspring to get them to mind.

“You still want me to go after him first?” Melanie asked.

“Yeah,” Claire said. “When he gets here, I'll tell him I'm going to the movies with Becky. I'll wait for him to leave, and you can get behind him as soon as he backs out of our driveway. When you call and say you're on his tail, me and Becky will leave and catch up to you.”

“Damn, Claire, you sure you never did this before? You sound like you know what you're doing.”

“George told me a lot of war stories,” Claire said. “I guess some of those military tactics stuck with me.”

“
For real
!” Melanie agreed. “You're on some old, Desert Storm type of shit. Some
counter-surveillance
type of shit.”

Claire didn't bother telling her friend she was using that term inappropriately.

* * *

Becky called at 5:45 while Claire was setting the table.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It's me.”

“You just get home?”

“Yeah.” She sounded out of breath. “I'm changing clothes now. What time did you say we were leaving?”

“George will be here in about fifteen minutes,” Claire said. “He's leaving at six-thirty, and I only want to give him five minutes, just in case he forgets something and doubles back.”

“Okay. Me and Courtney can be there at six-fifteen.”

“What about Craig? You don't have to cook for him?”

Becky had one boy and one girl, ages seventeen and sixteen, respectively. Claire figured they could probably feed themselves, but she had no idea how things went down over there.

“He's not even here,” Becky said with a chuckle. “He spends the night with his girlfriend a lot.”

“Girl, you're letting Craig get down
like that
?”

“Like what?”

“Like openly sleeping with his girlfriend?”

“You don't want them to hide it from you,” Becky warned. “It's better this way. I keep telling you, these are different times.”

* * *

George came home, as expected, at 5:59 p.m. He came in from the garage wearing khaki Dockers with a long-sleeved, blue button-down. He was comfortable, but his shirts always looked too small for him because he was such a big man. His pecs stood out in this outfit as much as they would in a T-shirt.

George toted his special briefcase in one hand and his car keys in the other. He stepped into the dining room with a swagger like John Wayne. He had a big smile on his face. He stopped at the table and looked proudly upon the family God gave him.

“Y'all sure are some good-looking people,” he said.

“Daddy!” George Jr. started to get up, but his father stepped forward and palmed the top of his head.

“Naw, sit there and eat your food. Don't leave the table until you're finished.”

Today Claire had a succulent meal of chicken and dumplings prepared. The rolls were still warm. Nikki's salad was fresh and colorful. Claire sat at the head of the table with George Jr. on her right and two ebony princesses on her left. Everyone was clean and neat. Everything was perfect, just as Claire wanted it to be. She stared up at her husband, wondering if he saw what she saw. Didn't he know life was wonderful just the way it was?

“Hey, baby,” he said to Claire. “How y'all girls doing?” he asked his daughters.

“Fine,” they said in unison.

“That looks good,” he said to Claire and licked his lips. “I wish I had time to eat with y'all.”

“You going to play cards tonight?” she asked.

“Friday night is my time to
shine
,” he confirmed.

“I can fix you a plate,” she said. “Can't you be late? They'll be there all night.”

George grinned. “Maybe, but I want some of that
early
money.”

Claire nodded. “I'm going out tonight, too,” she said, “to the movies with Becky.”

George looked puzzled for a second, and then he smiled. “That's great, baby. What are you gonna see?”

It suddenly struck Claire that she hadn't come up with a lie for that. Her eyes widened, and she blinked quickly. “Um, I, I don't know. What's playing?”

The kids giggled.

George's eyes narrowed. Claire's face felt very warm. But then George smiled again.

“Baby,
I
don't know what's playing. You the one who said you're going to the movies. This must be some mess Becky talked you into.”

Claire nodded; happy for the escape. “Yeah.”

“All right,
darling
. Well, have fun.” He turned and headed for the stairs. “Is somebody watching the kids?” he called over his shoulder.

“I'm old enough to watch the kids!” Nikki shouted.

“And
I'm
not a kid,” Stacy said.

“Me, neither,” George Jr. tacked on.

“Becky's bringing Courtney,” Claire said.

“I like Courtney,” George Jr. said.

* * *

At six-fifteen Melanie called Claire on her cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Is it still on?”

“Yeah,
unfortunately
.”

“He hasn't left yet, has he?”

“He's getting ready now.”

“All right. I'm sitting over here in my car waiting.”

“Where are you?” Claire asked.

“Down the street. Don't worry. I'll see
him
, but he won't see
me
.”

* * *

At 6:19 Becky showed up wearing the most ridiculous getup Claire could have imagined. She had on black jeans, a black sweater, a black bandana on her head, and black combat boots. Claire stepped out onto her porch quickly and closed the door behind her.

“Becky, what are you doing?”

Her friend held her arms out. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you dressed like that?” Claire hissed.

“We're doing a
stake-out
,” Becky whispered. “I thought we were supposed to, you know, dress like the night.”

Claire cracked a smile and couldn't help but laugh. “Okay, so why are you wearing
combat boots
?”

“These are the only black shoes I have,” Becky explained. “Except for heels, and I didn't want to look
crazy
.”

“All right,” Claire said. “But take that handkerchief off at least.”

Becky did, and Claire muffled her chuckles with a hand over her mouth as she led them inside.

George Jr. was in the living room waiting. He really did like Becky's daughter, but not for the reasons Claire would have preferred. Courtney was of average height and medium build. She was blonde and blue-eyed, and pretty—but it was her busts that made her special. Courtney was one of few high school sophomores toting around perky 32C's, and she was already starting to harness their power. Almost every time Claire saw her, Courtney had on something with a V-neckline.

Today she wore blue jeans with a red tube top. George Jr. jumped from the couch and ran to greet her.

“Hi, Courtney!”

“
Georgie Porgie
!”

She bent to hug him, and George grinned like a Jack-o-lantern with his face smushing her bosoms. Claire rolled her eyes at him. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he
knew
what a lucky guy he was.

* * *

George Sr. came downstairs at 6:29 wearing dark-colored slacks with a short-sleeved, gray golf shirt. His loafers were black and polished to perfection. He brought the smell of Michael Jordan cologne down with him. He gave Claire a kiss goodbye, as he always did, and he didn't look like he was about to do anything even remotely evil.

* * *

At 6:35 Melanie called and said the dreaded deed had begun; she was three vehicles behind George on McCart Avenue. They were headed north, towards the freeway.

Claire and Becky left a few minutes later. They took Becky's monster truck, although that thing was just as conspicuous as Claire's Lexus. Claire called Melanie back as soon as she buckled her safety belt.

“Hey. Where are you now?”

“We're on 20,” Melanie said, “headed towards 35. Where is he supposed to be playing poker anyway?”

“On the east side,” Claire replied. “Near Bridge Street.”

“Well, we're headed in that direction,” Melanie said. “Where are you? Did y'all leave yet?”

“Yeah, but we just got on McCart. I don't know if we can catch up with you.”

“Don't worry,” Melanie said. “I got him in my sights, and he ain't going
nowhere
.”

“Thanks, Melanie. I really appreciate it.”

“It's cool. How you holding up?”

“I still feel like shit,” Claire admitted. “If I'm wrong, I'm never going to forgive myself.”

“Doesn't look like you're wrong,” Melanie said.

“What do you mean?”

“He's got his blinker on. He's about to get off on Hemphill.”

“
Hemphill
? What's over there?”

“I don't know,” Melanie said. “That's
your
husband.”

Claire waited in silence and she racked her brain for answers, but none were forthcoming. Melanie filled in another piece of the puzzle half a minute later.

“Okay, there's a Chevrolet dealership on the corner up here. He's turning in there.”

Claire knitted her eyebrows. “A
car dealership
?” She thought and prayed and hoped beyond hope but couldn't make any sense of it. Their oldest child was two years from even taking driver's ed, and neither Claire nor George drove a Chevy.

“Are you going in there with him?” she asked Melanie. Her voice was shaky and her hands were as well.

“Yeah. I'm turning in now, but I had to give him some slack. There's not a lot of traffic in here. Where are y'all?”

“We just got on the freeway,” Claire said. “I don't think we're going to make it in time.”

“That's all right,” Melanie replied. “As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn't get too close in your car.”

“We're in Becky's truck.”

“
Damn
. That's even worse. Take the exit before Hemphill and wait at that Stop ‘N Go. I think that's Crowley.”

“Yeah, it is,” Claire confirmed. “We're coming up on it now. Exit here,” she instructed Becky.

“He's stopping,” Melanie said. “
Yep
. He just pulled in front of a building. He's not parking, though. He's sitting in the fire lane.”

“What building?” Claire asked. “What's he doing?”

“I don't know,” Melanie said, “but I need to find somewhere to park or I'm going to—
oh
…”

“
Oh
? What's
oh
? What the hell does that mean?” Claire was frazzled, nearly frantic. Becky looked over at her and put a hand to her mouth.