“Why don’t you hang out on the porch and relax. I’ll let you know when to spring into action.”
Marcy’s grocery list was actually pretty long and had a lot of perishable items on it. That way, she knew John would have to make the store his last stop. If he did go to that slut’s house, the extra time would be enough for her and Sid to be ready.
She paced the floor and probably peed seven times since John left. Her nerves were getting out of control.
Then, there it was. Her phone rang, damn it.
“Hi, Lucy.”
“Marcy, it’s Lucy.”
‘No crap,’ Marcy though.
“What’s happening, Lucy?”
“I’m sorry, dear, but he’s there again. I got some pictures I’ll send.”
“Okay, Lucy. Thanks for your help.”
Marcy looked at the pictures as they arrived and it was pretty clear John had no business being where he was. Damn if Lucy wasn’t right. She went out on the porch to find her accomplice.
“Sid?”
“Yes, mam.”
“It’s time. Go get Annie and put her in the meadow where I showed you and put the package under her. Then I’ll need the little black box with the red button.”
“Okay, mam. Then what should I do?”
“You may want to hide out in your apartment above the garage. Mr. Murray will not be happy with me and you may want to steer clear of him tonight. I’ll bring your dinner over later.”
“Yes, mam. Thank you, mam. I guess I better get to it.”
Marcy sat at the kitchen table as a few tears fell. ‘How could that son-of-a-bitch do this? Why?’ She had some idea of the reasons, but John was going to tell her himself.
She got up and paced as she started to chastise herself for feeling so weak. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself you stupid old woman. He’s gonna pay, and you’re gonna stay in control. Buckle up, buttercup! It’s showtime.’
She sat back down with the attitude and look of determination. Right now, she was a force to be reckoned with. John didn’t stand a chance.
*****
John walked into the backdoor hauling the bags of groceries and shouted, “Hey, honey. I’m home.”
He saw her at the table. She looked different. She looked very different. He instantly could tell it was a look somewhere between mean and angry—or maybe both.
“Marcy? What’s wrong?”
“Perhaps you’d like to explain these.”
She showed him the pictures and he turned white as a sheet. She could see his mind working extra hard to come up with something.
“Oh, uhh, that a friend’s house and I just stopped in to drop something off.”
“Oh really? You’re not carrying anything.”
“What are you saying, Marcy? What are you accusing me of?”
“That’s that ugly woman who works at the feed store. The one missing so many teeth that she flosses with a rope. What the hell are you doing there and why isn’t she at the store working?”
John sat in the chair across from his wife and knew he had to come clean. He looked at his wife’s face. She was trembling with anger and he knew this would not go well.
“Several weeks back, some guy at the feed store was bragging about how his wife woke him up most mornings with a blow job. I mumbled thinking nobody would hear me, but she heard me saying to myself that you never do that at all much less first thing in the morning. She quietly offered to service me anytime I wanted and told me she’s off on Thursdays.”