DITW 12-4: Verglas

Josh called on Saturday morning and she asked him if he felt any better.

“A little,” he said.

It was good to hear his voice, and, though she probably imagined it, he sounded lighter. “Are you coming home?”

“Soon.”

“This afternoon?”

Now he sounded harassed. “I don’t know, Kimmy. I need more time.”

The stress in his voice conjured the bad images again. Devlin showing him manufactured spreadsheets and photos and concocting a story worse than the truth, smiling the whole time as Josh fell for it because Josh wanted the worst. Craved the worst.

It was pointless, though, wasn’t it? The truth was bad enough for Josh to hate her for a lifetime.

She changed the subject, eager to portray her night of innocent and dutiful leisure. “We took Sophie skating last night.”

“You and Hyun?”

“Yeah. God, Sophie’s so cute. She has little pink and white skates.”

“That is cute,” Josh said, and lovely hope bloomed. Josh was too good to abandon her.

“She’s so good for her age,” she said, watching her fingers nervously pluck at the bulky weave of her warm house-sweater. Josh asked what arena they went to, how many kids were in the class, and it felt so good to have him on her line, loving the tension, hoping she had the skill and dexterity to bring him onto her boat. He asked about Hyun, and she responded with keen camaraderie, telling him how they went out for hot chocolate after skating, then browsed the book aisles at Chapters, pointing out how Sophie is reading about four years above her age bracket. She left out the parts that were uncomfortable. The times alone with Hyun, not knowing what to say, watching Sophie pulling down books and flipping through them. Even though it had been awkward, it was still better than being alone in the apartment. Hyun had asked her if it was okay for her to be drinking while she was pregnant, and she’d shrugged and said it was early on and it was just a glass and a half, and her mother had drank wine when she was pregnant with both girls. But her mother hadn’t done that. Not that she knew of. The truth was darker than that, and she’d rather not have the truth anywhere near where she or anyone else could see it.

“I better get going,” Josh said, bringing the amber glow to a close.

“Okay.”

Josh went quiet, and she let him feel uncomfortable. Silence might show him how unfair he was treating her. He said, “I’m going to go have lunch with Meyer.”

“You’re not staying at Meyer’s?”

“Kimmy... I told you... Look, it doesn’t matter where I am. It’s not a big deal, just please stop asking me.”

“Okay,” she said, resigned. “I won’t ask.”

“It’s not a big deal, but I just... You know? Okay. . . . Okay, I gotta get going.”

“All right, Josh. I’ll let you go.”

More quiet, then he said, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you.”

#

One o’clock lunch at the Durham Centre, killing time before a 3:30 movie. They ate at the Burgers On Fleek. Josh ordered the dark meat chicken burger with fries, and Meyer ordered a classic hamburger with sweet potato fries. Josh tested out Meyer’s sweet potato fries and Meyer regarded him like Josh had delivered an incredible indignity, snatching them without asking.

Josh laughed, chewed the fries, shrugging and mouthing, “What?” Challenging Meyer, gesturing to his own plain ol’ regular fries, offering them up like they were nothing, and Meyer was being a selfish baby.

Meyer selected three similar-sized plain fries from Josh’s plate and dropped them on his own; a fair hostage negotiation Josh couldn’t complain about.

Meyer prompted him. “Anyway, you were saying...?”

Josh spread out his napkin on his lap and took a sip of the fountain Coke before answering. “It was like I sent her there. I sent her past the gates of hell.”

Meyer rolled his eyes, sipping his root beer. “It’s not the gates of hell.”

“You know what I mean. Listen, it was... I don’t know. . . . Exciting.”

“What was?”

“Having your wife find the value she’d always looked for. The acknowledgment. It did great things for her. And, she... transformed.”

“I saw it.”

“And, like, it felt amazing to know she was my wife. Do you know what I mean? Like she could walk into boardrooms with Chinese billionaires or whatever and hold the line. And she was my wife. It was Kimmy. It felt amazing to see her in that world. It brought out something in her.”

“Like a demon.”

He steadied a look of comical disdain at his cousin, but the remark did sting.

Meyer smirked. “What? I’m sticking with the gates of hell thing you started.”

“She’s not a demon.” He stabbed some french fries and went to shovel them in his mouth, then paused. “Maybe she is. She was my demon.”

Meyer chuckled but then his features shrank into lines of concern. “Isn’t she anymore?”

“No, she is. I love her more than anything. I just feel like I’ve been pushed aside. Like I’m not part of that world, and she is, and I’m diminished.”

“Like she left you behind?”

“Sure.”

“You’re doing great, though, Josh. What about them sending you to Rome?”

“I know. I know I am. The only reason is I’m competitive with Kimmy.”

“You bring out the best and the worst in each other.”

Josh paused for a second, brow lowering. “Wow. Did you ever hit a bullseye.”

Meyer laughed and showed pride for his astute scrutiny. They both laughed and took a break, eating in silence while the busy restaurant moved around them.

Meyer wiped his mouth and shrugged. “If that’s it, though, Josh, I don’t know what to say. It doesn’t sound good.”

“How so?”

“It sounds like resentment. On your part.”

“It’s not that. It’s more than that.”

Meyer shook his head like he was exasperated. “It’s this Devlin guy. I know it is. If you were honest about it, maybe we could talk for real.”

“Of course it’s this Devlin guy, Meyer.”

Meyer was adamant this time, gesturing with an angry hand toward josh, saying, “Is something going on or not? Between him and Kimmy.”

#

Curled up in Sophie’s bed, Josh trembled in awful suppurating, suffering in inescapable sickness. Kimmy’s sweet voice whispered in his mind’s ear: “I miss you.”

What more could he want to hear?

But if he returned home, she would torture him. She would torture him and he would love it. What the hell had happened to their relationship; how had such an enormous power imbalance occurred?

His greatest fear was that if he uttered to his cousin the admission of Kimmy’s infidelity there would be no return. Not a return to the sanctity of his marriage, not to some semblance of a normal familial relationship. He feared he could never return to the dark pleasure her infidelity delivered.

Why did such horror draw him?

Once he made the claim that something had happened between Devlin and Kimmy, no one who cared for him would tolerate anything but Kimmy’s absolute condemnation. How would Meyer ever understand how it came to be, without the revelation that Josh had been a party to it?

Sometimes he could imagine the warmth and comfort that support from his cousin—from his family—might bring. To have rallied support around him in his time of need. It would soothe him. Console him. But consoling was merely consolation. It was defeat. If he surrendered to the comfort of a familial embrace, wasn’t he a coward? Wasn’t he afraid to stand on his own two feet and confront the monster of his own creation? Because that’s what it was. His situation was an electrified golem construct of his own desire. He could pretend that the desire had been sown in his soil by nefarious forces. Some conspiracy, a murder of dark crows working against him in furtive shadows. Plotting his demise for their own pleasure. Amy. Devlin. Amy and Kimmy together. Kimmy and Devlin. All three of them. All three of them like a council of witches around their coven’s table, torturing a woodland stick-figure bound with magical twine; his own vulnerable effigy. It didn’t matter who’d sown it; he’d reaped it.

When his mind wasn’t lost at sea, when he wasn’t alone on a rickety life raft in foggy uncharted waters, he was sometimes the roiling sea itself, crashing and roaring in primordial, maritime rage. Revenge twisted his skin. Evil thoughts of destruction; a malevolent desire to return the venom the coven’s ceremonial dagger delivered when they sliced his skin.

#

Sleeplessness led her on this witless quest. One in the morning, sitting in the Leaf, parked outside the ritzy apartment building in North Toronto where she would sometimes have met Devlin for a lunchtime fuck. Sitting like her own hapless husband had, peering up at darkened apartment windows, looking for...

Looking for what?

What was it Josh had searched for, parked outside Hyun’s building? What did he want to see? What did he want not to see? Where they the same thing?

While she hated the thought of Josh’s silhuoette passing the light of Devlin’s window, she would also love to see Josh’s profile in Devlin’s window. Josh coming to the window to look out in wounded reverie at the city skyline, lost in thought. It would be worth it because it would bring this travesty to a rapid close. It would be worth it because she could unleash the hatred she held for the man who’d concocted this scenario. Even though it was made of flames she’d stoked herself.

Then she was out of the car and crossing the parking lot, heels clicking on the spotless pavement, shining wet in the cold night. She’d worn heels; she’d worn lingerie and a suit. Some sort of ritual that felt right when she was coming to this devil’s domain. But she was here unequivocally for Josh.

The visitor’s lot was only half full. No Qashqai.

Instead of the lobby, she turned left at the doors and headed across the walkway that took her to the parking garage’s side door. On her key ring, she found the lobby key—the same key that would open the front door would open this one, too. Once inside the short passageway beyond the outer door, she opened the inner and walked the florescent-lit line of the parking garage’s visitor lineup. Three empty spots, five cars in the rest. One Qashqai.

A Qashqai in black.

Not Josh.

She rolled her eyes. It was insane to think he was here in the first place.

She shook her head and gritted her teeth.

No, it wasn’t insane. It was a possibility. A slim and unlikely one, but a possibility just the same. And one that would have destructive consequences.

Josh had to be at Meyer’s. He had to be.

Maybe Josh and Devlin went out for dinner together and they took the Qashqai.

Yeah, right. Like Devlin would be caught dead in that sensible car.

Then what?

She could walk down to the next level and see if Devlin’s car was parked in his spot.

And if it wasn’t?

Devlin was in Kingston and Josh was at Meyer’s.

Was that correct?

She looked up to the ceiling with it’s sprinkler system and gray-painted columns. Or she could go up and knock on Devlin’s door and find out for sure. She smoothed her hands on her suit jacket. At least she’d dressed for the part.