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Authors: Jennifer Coburn

Tags: #Contemporary Women, #Fiction

The Wife of Reilly (28 page)

BOOK: The Wife of Reilly
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“Propelling guide?” I asked.

“You know? It’s where people lower themselves down a cliff by propelling themselves from a rope tied to the top,” Kyara explained.

“That’s rappelling, you dip shit,” Penny corrected.

“Anyway, you’re the first girl he’s been into for longer than a week. Except for Sandreen the belly dancer. He was into her for a while. But Prudence, you’re the first one he’s wanted to marry.”

“Does he ever say why?” I asked.

They laughed, but I wasn’t at all sure why. Maybe I should just give up on why altogether.

* * *

Kyara’s closet was an entire room that was attached to the master suite. A wall of gowns lined the cedar shrine to Glamour Don’ts. Everything sparkled in some way. Sequins, metallic thread, beads. One holiday number even had small light bulbs sewn into it. Shoes so horrible-looking, just the sight of them kicked you in the eye.

“Okay, snow shit,” she said as she located her winter gear. Kyara pointed to a baby pink goose-down jumper with a huge rim of white fluffy fur around the hood. “This shit is sacred,” Kyara said. “Brand new and Rick has never seen me in it. So I’m sorry, Prudence, but this one is off limits.”

“Oh well,” I said. “I can see why you’d want to keep that one to yourself.”

“You like it? I’m such a bitch. Come here, Prudence,” she said, looking through her clothes. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so I ought to start sharing with you now.” She pulled the identical ski suit in lavender out of the back of the closet. “Forgive me for being so selfish.”

This looks like Barney’s slutty albino cousin.

“You know, lavender has always made me look kind of washed out, Kyara. Do you have anything in black or brown?”

Penny laughed. “Kyara doesn’t do understated. Just look at these,” she said, pulling out a red leather jump suit. “Satan’s bitch,” Penny laughed. “And this one we call the Easter Playboy Bunny,” she said, lifting a micro mini-dress with pastel spirals all over it.

“You know what color would look great with your black hair, Prudence?” Kyara asked.

Black! Or perhaps brown!

“Orange,” she said. “Let me see if I can find that cute little orange number I wore a few years ago.”

Oh God no!

“Oh good, here it is,” Kyara said, pulling out an outfit so bright it looked nuclear. All over it were little silver bells. “Shit, I forgot about the matching hat,” she said, pulling an orange beret out of the coat pocket. “If you get a little bounce going as you ski,” Kyara said, bending her knees and holding imaginary poles, then bobbing her body, “you can get the bells to jingle.” Wistfully, she looked at her loaner. “You know, this outfit really says something when you wear it.”

Merry Halloween, Chernobyl.

Then by the grace of God, Kyara pulled a white fluffy snowsuit from the back. “This one makes a statement too. I’m dull. Leave it to my mother to buy me this shit.” This ski suit had a definite Michelin Tire Man look to it, but compared to the rest of Kyara’s wardrobe, it was elegant.

“You need skis too, right?” Kyara asked me. “You can borrow my old Rossis.”

Your what?!

Matt popped his head into the bedroom and asked if he was interrupting anything.

“Just doing some coke and playing fairy godmother to your Cinderella,” Kyara said. I wondered what she meant by that. I certainly wasn’t wearing rags, and even if I were, I’d rather show up at the prince’s ball in them instead of one of her high-voltage gowns.

“Okay, then. I’ve got to discuss a few things on the Pasteur film with Rick, so you girls take your time,” Matt said.

“Has everyone gone home already?” I asked Matt.

“Prudence, honey, it’s four o’clock in the morning,” Kyara giggled.

“What?! Oh Kyara, I’ve got to get to sleep. Why don’t I borrow the white suit so if anything happens to it, you won’t be too upset with me?”

“Let’s just finish off this gram and then we’ll call it a night,” Penny said.

The last few lines of cocaine took me from a sense of awake confidence and joy to crazed and paranoid. I could feel my heart beating in every part of my body. I felt like the house in that Edgar Allan Poe story about the heartbeat buried beneath the floorboards. I told Kyara and Penny that I needed to walk around outside for a while, but they both declined the invitation.

“I need my beauty rest,” said Kyara.

Penny said she had to be on a movie set at six and had to get going home. “Home is where the coke is,” she said, grabbing her jacket. “Good to meet you though, Prudence. We’ll have to do this again soon.”

Chapter 26

I paced around the pool wringing my hands and tapping my teeth with my index finger. From outside I watched Matt and Rick intently discussing their film project as they huddled over the kitchen counter together. As I came down from the high, all I could think about was how to get more coke. I actually dipped my fingers into the swimming pool and sniffed a few drops of water to help transport any residual cocaine that may have gotten stuck in my nostrils. As embarrassed as I am to admit, I sneaked back upstairs to Kyara’s room and scraped dust off her mirror as she slept just a few yards away. I then licked her mirror, and when I was done with that I did the same to the paper wrapper that Penny brought the coke in.

Later I went back outside to watch the sunrise, which I thought would help me calm down. It was not a beautiful experience that made me feel one with the cycle of the planet. Instead, I grew annoyed at how long it took.

Hurry the fuck up! Rise already and let’s get a move on with the day.

I remembered why I don’t do cocaine anymore.

At seven, the guys were ready to hit the road and set a goal of being on the lift line by ten. We had time to swing by Matt’s house and toss my packed suitcase into Rick’s Land Cruiser (license plate: OffUAss).

Matt and I snuggled in the back seat, and I decided to sleep on the drive up to the mountains. Thankfully, Rick believed in seats for his car. I detached my seat belt as I kicked my legs onto Matt’s lap, and sunk into the seat for a nap.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Matt told me as he wove his fingers between mine.

I knew this was my last chance to get some rest. “Me too, but I have got to get some sleep. I’m starting to get a headache and I feel like I’m going to start crying.”

He patted my head. “Relax,” he said. “We’ve got a good couple hours till we’re there.”

Unfortunately, we were on the freeway before I closed my eyes, so I got the chance to sample Rick’s driving. We were so close to the car ahead of us, someone in the next lane might think we were being towed.

“Um, never heard the rule about a six-car distance between you and the guy in front of you, ay Rick?” I asked.

“As long as he doesn’t stop suddenly we’ll be fine,” Rick explained.

Of course, if he does stop suddenly we’ll be dead!

“You know, it’s making me really tense, Rick. Would you mind putting a little space between us so I can relax and take a nap? I haven’t slept since Wednesday night and it’s beginning to take a toll,” I said.

Rick was silent for a moment. Then he looked at me through the rear-view mirror. “This is a good opportunity to work on some of your control issues, Prudence,” he said.

“I was kind of hoping it would be a good time to work on my fatigue issues,” I said.

“Let it go. I am driving now.” I had the feeling Rick was always driving.

“I understand that, Rick, but as your passenger, my life is in your hands, so I think I have some say in the matter,” I said, gritting my teeth.

Anytime you want to step in, Matt!

“I have never been in an accident that’s been my fault, and I’ve been driving since I was —”

“Seriously, Rick. Get off his ass!” I shouted without thinking. “I can’t relax knowing we’re practically in somebody’s trunk. Slow down right now, you lunatic!”

“Whoa! Someone’s got a case of PMS,” Rick sang.

“Back off, man,” Matt finally said. “Give her a break and slow down.”

“Oh what a fun ski trip this is going to be with shit like this going down fifteen minutes on the road,” Kyara said. She was already wearing her fur-trimmed pink hood and had painted her nails to match the exact color. “I think he drives like a dumb fuck too, Prudence.”

All I wanted to do was curl up in Matt’s arms and spend the next few days sleeping and hanging out with my future husband. Who were these other people? Why was I going to strap sticks on my feet and slide down a snowy mountain, anyway?

“Prudence, I want us all to get along so I’m going to slow it down a bit for you, okay?” Rick said. “But I want to share an insight I’m having about you. You are a real back-seat driver. It’s a very telling character trait. Look into it and I mean fast.”

I have an insight too, Rick. You’re a World Class Prick. It’s an even more telling character trait! Look into that fast.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but couldn’t help peeking to check if Rick was keeping his promise to drive like he valued our lives. Matt began to stroke my lower legs and I fell asleep for about ten minutes before Rick popped in a motivational self-help tape.

I bolted awake. “Are we there yet?” I asked Matt.

“No, you’ve only been out for ten, fifteen minutes. Turn that down, Rick! Malone is trying to sleep back here.”

“What if I told you there was a way for you to live the life you really want right now? What if I told you that all your dreams would absolutely, positively, without a doubt come true for you? What if I told you that complete happiness was all within your reach right now? What if I told you that everything you ever wanted can and will be yours, guaranteed? You’d probably want to know just one thing, and that’s how. I’m here to tell you it all comes down to four words of advice I give to each and every one of my clients. I tell this to Tom Cruise. And I tell it to camera crews. You know what I’m going to say.” An audience of hundreds chimed in for the chorus. “Get. Off. Your. Ass!”

“Is this you, Rick?” I asked.

“Sure’s shit is,” said Kyara.

“Tom Cruise is one of your clients?” I asked.

“No, Tom and I don’t work together right now,” Rick said.

What’s with this first-name business?

“Did you coach him before he got famous?” I asked.

“No, no, Tom and I don’t work together,” Rick said. “It’s not a good fit for either of us right now.”

“But you said on your tape that you tell Tom Cruise to get off his ass,” I reminded him.

“No I didn’t. I said I would tell him to get off his ass.”

“No you didn’t. You said you
do
tell him this. You make it sound like Tom Cruise actually pays you money to have you tell him to get off his ass. Have you ever met Tom Cruise?”

“As a matter of fact, Tom and I have several mutual friends.”

Knowing his hair stylist doesn’t make you Tom Cruise’s personal coach.

“Tell me, Rick,” I said in a slow, cutting tone. “When exactly would you tell Tom Cruise to get off his ass, anyway? Isn’t he in, like, ten films a year? And doesn’t he make like twenty-five billion dollars for every one of them? I just want to know exactly what he should be getting off his ass to do.”

Kyara turned to me and winked. “She’s got a point, Ricky. The man’s got a great ass. Let him sit on it a while. If he never makes another movie, he’s still set for life.”

When I looked over to see if Matt was going to add anything to the conversation, I noticed that he’d fallen asleep.

“Shit!” Rick shouted, screeching on his brakes. “What’s this bastard stopping for?!”

Perhaps it’s because all of the cars ahead of him have also stopped, you half-wit!

“Prudence, no offense, but all of your bickering is distracting me from driving. Can you please just shut up and let me concentrate?”

“My pleasure. But if I can’t talk, neither can you and that includes your pre-recorded yammering,” I said.

It was official. Rick and I were no longer trying to hide the fact that we hated each other. It was war and the territory was Matt. Poor, beautiful Matt, caught in the middle of our feud and didn’t even know it. He softly whistled as he slept, smiling gently. He looked so sweet. I wondered if he’d forgive me for killing his best friend.

* * *

As planned, we were standing on the lift line a little after nine-thirty that morning. I should say they were standing. I tipped over no fewer than a dozen times before we made it onto the chair lift. Thankfully, Matt and I rode together without Kyara and Rick. If he told me to get off my ass one more time as I struggled to get off the ground, I was going to stab him with my ski pole. As if falling was a conscious choice. As if being on my ass was a decision I made for the sheer thrill of being bruised.

“I know Rick takes a little getting used to,” Matt whispered. “But you and Kyara seemed to hit it off pretty well.”

“Matt, to be perfectly honest, I’m here to spend time with you. Rick and Kyara are fine, but you’re the one I’m here to see. When do we get some time to ourselves?”

“Tonight,” he said mischievously. He wrapped both arms around me and began kissing my scarf.

I laughed, more tickled than amused. “Don’t make me slip off this thing,” I said, looking down at the snowcapped pine trees. “God, this is beautiful,” I realized. I turned back and saw the lake and snow-covered mountains behind it.

“You’re right. I’ve just been overwhelmed lately and am a bit worried about work. We just got back from Sundance, and seeing what other people are doing made me really anxious about finishing up
Sour Milk
already. I promise, though, as soon as we get back, I’ll focus completely on you.”

“Matt, I just want to spend time with you. You don’t have to blow off your work. Maybe you could show me your film when we get back. Whatever you’ve got. Maybe I could be helpful. I don’t need you to only focus on me. I just don’t want to share you with all of these other people, that’s all.”

BOOK: The Wife of Reilly
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