Keep Calm and Kill Your Wife (4 page)

“S
O GO SOMEWHERE else if you don’t like the cabin.” Bob looked especially good today. Maybe it was the fact that the firm’s latest partner and eternal heartthrob had recently won a particularly impressive case. It seemed to make him all that much more attractive to every female in the firm—if that was possible. As the only one in the office who really had any kind of meaningful shot at Bob, his increasing appeal was not lost on Summer, despite her preoccupations.

She watched his mouth as his words glided effortlessly off of his tongue. He had an air of immense confidence that he seemed to exude brilliantly without the slightest hint of arrogance. And it all came so naturally, faltering only slightly in the presence of Summer, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care—about the faltering, that is.

As Bob strode toward her, Summer smiled, as did all of the other women in the office, secretly hoping he’d stop at her desk.

Summer loved when he approached her, even though it was usually to simply ask for files or to retrieve messages. But it was the small talk in between that she really adored. The jokes, the harmless flirting. But that was all it was. She knew it could never be any more than that. She loved Hart and wasn’t the type of person to be caught up in such girlish fantasies. At least not in real life. No, Bob was great but she could tell the difference between love and infatuation.

“No,” she said. “I think I’ll stick to the cabin. Hart’s really excited about it and I don’t want to disappoint him. Besides, I technically own it—the cabin, I mean—so the vacation wouldn’t really cost much and we really need to save our money right now.” She shrugged. “We’re trying for a baby.”

Bob raised his eyebrows and nodded, smiling weakly. “Oh. How long have you been trying for?” Then he reddened a little and cringed. “Wow. That was really personal.” Then he feigned an uppercut to his own chin, making a loud clicking sound-effect with his tongue in the process. “Please don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have asked and the only way I can redeem myself now is if you ignore me .”

Summer laughed. “It’s okay, Bob.”

“Hey, it’s the only way I’ll learn,” said Bob, now smiling, his confidence returning.

“It’s fine. And to answer your question, it’s been about six months.”

“Ahh, I told you not to tell me,” said Bob, playfully waving his hand in the air.

“Am I fired?”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s fired. I’m fired up about you having a baby. That’s great news.”

“Thanks. We’ll see what happens. Six months seems like a long time to me, but I guess when it’s right, it’s right.”

If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know,
immediately jumped into Bob’s head but instead he said, “Absolutely.”

Bob smiled and she smiled back. He had so much work to do but didn’t want the conversation to end.

“So what’s the deal with this cabin?” he asked. “Is it haunted or something?”

“I was just never that crazy about it. My cousin Brandy always loved it and my grandma should have probably left it to her to tell you the truth. I guessed she felt sorry for me because I had just lost my parents. Honestly I haven’t been there in twenty years. It just kind of gives me the creeps. My Uncle Frank died there.”

Bob cocked his head, curious.

“It was kind of weird. A tree limb just spontaneously dropped. I think it was an oak. It hit him in the head and he died. Anyway, it’s not that. I’m just not that crazy about the woods. You know, wild animals and all that.”

Bob smiled at her. God she was cute.

“I guess I’m just being silly, huh?”

Bob shook his head. “I think you’re the bravest woman that ever lived.”

Summer laughed. “You’re crazy.”

He smiled again and patted her hand. And then she screamed.

Bob pulled his hand back, looking stunned. “What?”

Summer put both hands over her mouth, stifling her own outburst. Then she pointed to the corner of her desk and whispered, “A spider.”

Bob grinned, shaking his head. “Do yourself a favor and pick a new vacation spot.”

“I
GOT THE PERFECT SPOT.” Hart was unsuccessfully suppressing a smile. He figured Brandy wouldn’t be too wild about it but didn’t particularly care. It was his idea. He was taking all the risks. He would be the one actually doing it. Besides, he decided, doing something as big as this
did
require some dramatic flair, and he wasn’t going to apologize for it either. Being mundane went against who he was.

Even in school when a teacher would go around the room and have everyone introduce himself, Hart couldn’t stand the idea of simply stating his name and who his last English teacher was. He had to come up with something funny. Something memorable, creative. Not just be like everybody else.

Brandy finished her sip of Coke and put the can back down on her kitchen table. She felt skeptical, but anxious to hear what Hart had come up with.

“You mean you don’t want to do it in the woods anymore?” she said.

“I mean the perfect spot
in
the woods,” he answered.

Brandy put her elbow on the table, faced her open hand straight up and glided her chin into her waiting palm. “Well I hope your plan doesn’t require you to twirl your mustache between your fingers as the audience hisses and pelts you with tomatoes.”

“No audience, wise guy. So, I was looking at this map of Granny’s property that you drew up for me.” He pulled the map out of his front pocket and unfolded it. “It’s a nice spread. How many acres did you say it was?”

“A few hundred.”

Hart nodded. “Good. Now what really caught my eye was this.” Hart pointed to the map as Brandy leaned in. “This footbridge. How long is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Would you say it’s like the distance between first and second base on a baseball field?”

Brandy started to feel impatient but forced herself to relax. This was Hart we were talking about and this whole thing was going to unfold in his own way in his own time. Experience had taught her that. “I guess about that. What, a hundred feet?”

“And how far down? Below the bridge, I mean.”

“Five hundred, sixty-three feet,” she said.

“Are you serious? Five hundred, sixty-three feet? You know it exactly?”

“Yeah, I do. My Uncle Frank measured it when I was a kid. It was a big deal in our family. He climbed down the gorge, camped for a night and climbed back up the next day.”

“It only took a day to climb back up?”

Brandy nodded. “I don’t remember. Maybe eight hours or so. Something like that. The north side of the gorge, according to Uncle Frank, basically has almost like, um, stairs kind of. Like natural stairs. There were only a few spots, he said, that were a little tough, that required some rope, but yeah, it’s pretty cool. He actually wanted to take Summer and me down and back up. Of course Summer was scared to death and didn’t want to do it. I did at the time, but after Uncle Frank fell off that bridge, to his death, I pretty much lost interest, too.”

“Wait a minute. He fell off the bridge? Summer told me a tree fell on him or something. A big branch from an oak tree or something.”

“Yeah well, that’s what they told her when she was a kid so she wouldn’t be so freaked out.”

“Well, that was stupid. There are a lot more trees in the world than bridges. Weren’t they worried that she’d be afraid of trees after that?”

Brandy began tapping the table with her fingers now. “I don’t know, Hart. She’s afraid of everything. What’s the difference? You gonna tell me about your plan already?”

“Okay, listen. When me and Summer are up there, I’m going to suggest we take a walk. When we get to the bridge, I’m going to go first. It’s a narrow bridge, right? Halfway across I’ll tell her that I forgot something on the other side and I need her to go back and get it for me. It’s a narrow bridge, so she’s not going to want me to go around her—she’ll be too freaked out—so she’ll turn around and go get it for me—”.

“Wait a minute, Agatha Christie. Hold on. You’re right, she’s going to be freaked out. What makes you think she’ll even go across the bridge in the first place?”

“I’ll tell you in a second. Hold on, let me finish.”

Brandy looked to the side and tossed her hands in the air.

“Anyway, where the hell was I? So I’ll pre-plant my gloves or something in the bushes for Summer to go back to get. In the meantime, I’ll cross over to the other side of the bridge and when Summer’s got my gloves and she’s halfway across, snip-snip, I cut the ropes on the bridge. No matter which side she runs to as I’m cutting, she’ll never make it.”

Brandy started to talk but Hart continued, throwing his hand up, traffic cop style. “I know what you’re going to say. How can I cut the rope so fast? Heavy, heavy duty bolt cutters made for cable. It’ll be fast. And they’ll be pre-planted on the other side of the gorge so I can grab them quick. Brandy, it’s going to work.”

“Hart, why do you have to make it so complicated? Just
push
her off the gorge. And if you say dramatic flair one more time I’m going to stick my foot up your ass.”

“Hey, I’m not going to mine for gold with a thousand swings of my pick when I can just blow the fuckin’ thing up with one push of a button.” He had that little beauty planned out and ready to go.

Brandy sighed as the palm of her hand rolled off her chin and onto forehead. After a moment, she straightened up. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Okay, I guess it’ll work. It just seems like way too much effort to me, but what do I know? So fill me in. Then what? After her fall?”

Hart smiled. “I wait a few days and tell the cops that Summer took a walk in the woods while I did some errands in town. Make sure people see me. Tell the cops that she was hiking over here.” Hart pointed to a part of the map off of Grandma’s property and far from the gorge. “I’m sure people get lost in the woods every day. With no police record and no body...” Hart smiled and raised his hands in the air as if to say,
What can the cops do?
“And if they do find the body, well, I guess she fell down. What links that to me?”

Brandy started to talk, but Hart was on a roll and stopped her. “Okay, so what about the cops and the bridge? Why is the bridge cut? I got it all figured out. Before we walk across the bridge, a day or two before, I go to work. I’ll go to the other side of the bridge, untie it and put some slack in it and re-tie it. That way, when I cut it, I’ll still have some rope to re-tie it later, after the princess’ fall from grace. Or instead of cutting the rope, maybe I’ll just put a few slipknots in the rope and untie it when Summer’s on the bridge. Either way. I’ll bring the bolt cutters just in case. I thought about just removing the bridge after Summer’s gone, but there are probably satellite pictures somewhere of the property. Besides, that’s a pretty big bridge to try to get rid of. So, what do you think?”

“How are you going to get back across the bridge after it’s cut?” she asked.

Brandy watched as the smile dissolved from Hart’s face. She really preferred the simple approach, but took no joy in his enthusiasm being stymied. “And don’t say the gorge’s ‘stairs.’ Those are only on the north side—the side you’d be on when you cut the rope, so that’s not going to help you, unless you want to go down the gorge and back up on the same side just for the—”

“I get it. I get it. Alright, alright, this is why it’s good to talk about it. I’m actually a little pissed at you right now, but I’m glad you’re bringing it up.”

Brandy smiled. “I know what to do.”

“What?”

“When you’re sabotaging things on the other side of the bridge, you attach a long rope to the bridge. Just make sure it’s longer than the width of the gorge. After she falls, you just pull the bridge up with the rope and re-tie the bridge.”

Hart’s smile was back as he gently shook his head. “That’s great. I love you Baby.”

“I love you, too, Hart.” She said it like she must be some kind of idiot.

They stood up and hugged each other.

“Oh, and to make sure you don’t lose that long piece of rope, tie the other end to a tree. And lay it on the ground and cover it with dirt so it can’t be seen,” she continued.

“Excellent.”
Now
you
have dramatic flair,
he thought. But he wasn’t going to say it.

Then she suddenly broke their embrace. “Wait a minute. Before we break out the champagne, you never told me how you plan on getting her on that bridge in the first place. Summer’s afraid of her own shadow. And that bridge scares the hell out of her.”

“Relax. I’ll guilt her into it. I got her to take flying lessons for God’s sake. This’ll be a piece of cake.”

Brandy exhaled loudly. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to push her?”

No dramatic flair whatsoever
, he thought. But he wasn’t going to say it.

S
UMMER CAREFULLY ARRANGED the pens and pencils in the top drawer of her desk at work. There was nothing she hated more than not knowing where things were. It drove her crazy that Hart was the exact opposite but was so sweet about it that she rarely talked to him about his messiness, preferring to quietly straighten things herself. If she did mention anything to him, it was always done with a certain gentle grace that left Hart feeling good about himself. A little too good, as he never felt the need to accommodate Summer in the least.

Summer’s fetish for order was, in a sense, paradoxically offset by a certain clumsiness that often threatened the structure she craved. She was her own worst enemy in this regard—building the perfect sandcastle, everything just so, but inevitably being the one to lay it flat far in advance of anyone else or Mother Nature herself.

Picking up a pencil, she swiveled her chair toward her personal calendar which was standing up on the left side of her desk. Moving a bit too fast, the tip of her pencil struck the calendar, breaking the cone-shaped lead off in the process. Without pause, her eyes hunted for the wayward piece, which she quickly spied and disposed of. Then she swiveled her chair in the other direction and resharpened her pencil, an act followed without hesitation by the cleansing of her lead-stained hand with a “wipey.” Ever since she was a little girl and in every class she ever took, she always insisted upon having a least three sharp pencils at the ready. And of course, work would be no different.

Back to the calendar, two events stood out for her: her trip to the woods with Hart and her appointment with her ob/gyn. The appointment was three weeks away. Despite her talk with Hart, she had decided to make her appointment anyway. After all, she could get her R and R and still be ready to discuss things with Dr. Stillwell, pregnant or still trying. Either way, she’d want to consult with her doctor, and knowing that she had an appointment was one less thing to think about and helped to put her further at ease. Besides, her periods had been far more regular than they had ever been when she had been off the pill in the past. Something she had been wondering about for a few months now.

Hart wasn’t too happy about the appointment at first, but realized right away that if he ranted too much, it would seem suspicious. “Whatever works for you, Honey,” he had commented, careful to come off in a gentle, unalarmed way. He had planned to tell Brandy about it, but then it hit him that the appointment was a good thing. It only strengthened his case for why they had needed life insurance: they wanted children and the appointment, which was set weeks after Summer’s unfortunate demise, would only serve to make his case. This realization put Hart at ease and he forgot all about sharing the news with Brandy.

The other big event, her trip to the woods with Hart, was set for the coming weekend. Despite her apprehensions, and the obvious predominance of the number of spiders in the woods compared to that in the city, she was growing more and more excited. The trip would be for a full week and she was determined to try new things, relax and truly enjoy herself. Besides spending more time with Hart than she had in a long time, Summer was also excited about getting more flying time in. With an airfield just an hour north of her grandma’s cabin, Hart happily agreed that she should have a day to herself to pursue her newfound hobby. Summer was thrilled that Hart was so accommodating as she had been dying to get more flying hours, each of which contributed toward her pilot’s license. Between work, karate, school and general social engagements, the hours had been hard to come by of late. This vacation had so many nice elements to it and Summer couldn’t help but feel grateful for it all.

The hand on her shoulder was warm and gentle, but she nevertheless jumped and let out a gasp which bordered on a stifled scream. She also flipped her pencil in the air and watched it, in what seemed like slow motion, crash down on her desk, the tip breaking once again. The hand, it turned out, belonged to Bob, office heartthrob.

“Oh, sorry if I scared you,” he said, unable to stop a chuckle which was filled far more with adoration than any trace of ridicule. He delighted in these “Summer moments”, as he called them.

“I just sharpened that, too,” she said sheepishly, glancing up at Bob. Then without delay, she wiped her hands and resharpened her battle-worn pencil.

“Don’t worry about it. As a partner here, I can get you as many pencils as you want.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “Well I guess it pays to know people in high places.” She crossed her legs.

Bob felt his face get hot. “Yeah, uh, well especially with the huge pencil shortage going on these days.”

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” she said, shaking her head.

“Ahh, I could tell you stories.” He nodded and smiled again. “So, you all ready for the big vacation?”

“What?” she said. “Oh, yeah, yeah, the vacation, absolutely.”

“Good, good.”

They were silent and Bob buried his hands in his pockets. He kicked at some imaginary dirt at the immaculately-kept carpeting.

“Was there something I can get you, Mr. Day?”

“No. No. Oh, and
please
call me Bob.”

“Really? It would be so much easier to call you Mr. Day,” she said, her head dropping a little like a puppy dog. “I call all the other partners Mister. They seem to expect it.”

“Well, I hope I’m not like all the other partners.”

“No, you’re not.” She held her gaze.

“Listen, I shouldn’t bother you with this, but...”

“I’m sure it’s fine. What is it?”

“Well I was just thinking I should get your cell phone number just in case I can’t find something here at work. I mean, you’re so organized. But forget it. I don’t want to bother you on vacation. Forget I brought it up.”

“It’s alright, Bob. It’s no big deal.”
I’m sure my
number’s in my files
, she thought, but really didn’t mind giving it to him. Besides, she felt he might be embarrassed if she mentioned the files. So she jotted her number down and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He took out a business card from his jacket pocket. “Let me just jot down my cell number.”

“Sure,” she said, but they were both wondering the same thing. Why—or what was the pretense for why— would she need his cell phone number?

He handed her the card. “Here you go. Hey you never know. Let’s say you’re about to eat some ivy up there and you want to know if it’s poisonous or not, give me a call. I was an eagle scout.”

A few forced jokes later, about ivy being off her menu since the third grade and how forests were teeming with legal briefs these days, and Bob was walking back to his office. His head was held high, but his chin felt like it was dragging on the ground as he rolled his eyes and cursed himself.

She, on the other hand, was smiling.
Adorable. If I wasn’t so happily married...