Body of Ash (8 page)

Rachel considered telling
Marge
her parents had gone to bed.

Maybe I should just have Dad come out?

Dinner with her parents was a nightmare. The two adults hardly spoke to each other.
By the time Jason announced he better be leaving, her folks didn’t encourage him to stay or invite him back, rather an audible sigh of relief echoed through the living room. The show was coming to an end and they were clearly tired of their audience. No, Angela and Brian would not
want company, especially if
Marge
was coming between them.

Why do I care? It’s not like they do.

Despite her misery, a note of satisfacti
on poked at her consciousness.

After the hel
lish evening they gave me, it’s only fair I
repay them.  

Katie’s mom stopped at the bottom of the steps. Her odor was a strange mix of cheap perfume and tobacco.
As Marge tilted her head, Rachel noticed the woman’s teased hair didn’t move. The hairspray molded it to her skull like a football helmet.

“Hello Rachel.” The woman’s voice had a raspy quality
. “Are your folk
s
at
home?”

“Of course,” Rachel answered, forcing a smile. “You’re Katie’s mom. Come on in.”

12

ANGELA

Thursday 9:00 PM

As she met the eyes of
Marge
Finch, Angela’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel her cheeks burning as bolts of adrenaline coursed through her
. Tears felt like coming, but she wouldn’t surrender to them. No, handling
Bria
n’s prostitute would require
a calculated coolness.

Angela
whipped her head around at Rachel. Without so much as a word, she pointed to the stairwell until the girl shuffled past. It was after eight and they weren’t expecting company. The teen
should
have
known better than to invite
her in.

Trash belongs on the curb.

Standing within the silk-screened papered walls of the foyer,
Marge
looked the same as she always did, pathetic. With her thrift shop clothing,
Marge
didn’t belong in a room with a Tiffany lamp and an exquisite Persian rug. Her presence mocked the family portrait hanging in the carved antique frame.
Marge
’s
over processed hair billowed
out from
her face
, framed by large hoop earrings
.

Does she think that looks tasteful?

Angela touched her own
locks
. After being pinned back all day, her curls flowed loosely down her back. She also
wore a silk Hermes blouse that cost more than
Marge
’s entire outfit.

The corner of Angela’s mouth went up.

Marge
would need more than perky breasts and brass balls to thr
eaten her in her own home. Squaring
her shoulders
, she
waited for the sound of Rachel’s bedroom door to close. 

The television rattled on in the next room. Brian was drowning in front of another stupid evening program. It was his fault the woman was here. He violated the sanctity of their marriage. His filth stunk worse than the perfume
Marge
bathed in. 

“What do you want?” With a practiced control, Angela’s voice remained steady.

“I’ve come to see Brian,”
Marge
offered with a tilt of her chin.

Marge
may have tried to show confidence, but Angela noticed the slight tremble of
the woman’s shoulders
.

Angela considered her options. S
he could humiliate Marge
and send her on her way,
or she could let Brian come in so they could
suffer together
. 
It wouldn’t take long before the two were sick of each other and babbled like fools.

Maybe she should just let Brian go. Her husband was old and fat and
trying to hold onto his youth
. Was that why this woman appealed to him? Did she fill him with life in a way Angela never could?

But what about his job?

A preacher couldn’t have an affair. The church would not allow it. He had to lead his flock by example and turn his back on sin. Once his adultery was discovered, whether Angela was the one who told them or not, the elders would fire his ass. Surely, he had put two and two together.

I bet he didn’t even know she was coming.

When
her husband
was asking the church for a raise, he would get worked up to put on a grand show.
When Betty and Jim Jones, his
mother
and father, were
coming to visit
from down south
, he would pace with anxiety. If
Brian planned on Marge dropping by to
announce their relationship, he would’ve been half out of his mind by now.

No, this is an unexpected visit for him, too.

Turning her head towards the living room, she called, “Darling, we have company.”

Angela
stared back at
Marge
.  She hoped the woman was beginning to feel ridiculous but doubted she was smart
enough.
Marge
just kept chewing her lower lip. As her husband entered the foyer,
Marge
’s posture straightened and a nervous smile
popped onto
her face.

Angela turned to Brian. Holding an empty wine glass, he stood in the doorway with his mouth half open. His eyes darted between Angela and
Marge
, searching for something to say.

Angela wondered why she or any other woman ever wanted him. His unbuttoned Ralph Lauren shirt revealed white pasty skin and the pot belly he tried to hide by wearing pinstripes.
Not
overly handsome or smooth talking
, he wasn’t a prize, at least not anymore
.

“Well, aren’t you happy to see me?”
Marge
rushed,
her voice shriller than usual. She took a couple of steps towards Brian
. “I heard I missed you when you came by earlier.”

“You should have called.” Brian reprimanded, but his usual authority was missing. “It’s late.” A light sweat broke out across his forehead. Turning, he gave Angela an apologetic look.

I hate you for this.

Brian
tried offering her a reassuring smile.
“Ang
ie, you can head on up to bed. I’ll be there shortly.”

Marge
gasped, “I think she needs to hear this.”
Nervously, she shoved her hands in her back pockets, only to take them back out again.

“No,” Brian spoke louder. “You
should not
have come here.” His eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a straight line.

“It’s oka
y,” Angela replied, refusing to budge. “She must need something.
”

Angela
knew her presence was driving Brian crazy. He wanted to sweep the whole ugly mess under the carpet by sending her to bed and dismissing his indiscretion.  The sheen of perspiration across his forehead was nothing compared to the flush spreading across his cheeks. He was uncomfortable
and
s
he refused to make it easy for him. 

Giving
Marge
a bitter
glare, Angela’s voice lacked warmth
. “Why are you here?”

Marge fixed her attention on
Brian. Despite the warning shake of his head, she stammered, “Brian and I want to be together. We’re in love.”

I’m surprised the bimbo had the courage to say it.

“That’s ridiculous,” Brian
sputtered,
striding toward the door. “She’s
insane.” He swung it open
, “You need to leave.”

Marge
refused to budge. “No.  The news has already gotten out.
That’s why I’m here.
” She casted a pleading look at Brian, but he
refused to meet her stare
. “We don’t have to pretend. You can be with me.”

From deep in her chest, Angela f
elt a sudden pressure. All of the shame he had put her through was giving way to
rage.
“You think he loves you? What makes you different than any other slut
he’s wasted his time on?” Angela’s
voice was beginning to shake and she knew she was going to lose control.
Batting back the tears that wanted to fall, she forbade herself to show them pain.

I cannot let them win.

“Angela,” Brian implored. “It’s not what you think. She’s nothing to me.” He waved his arms around wildly. Never before did he look like he was trying to deliver a more impassioned sermon. “She’s making this up because she’s crazy.”

Marge
’s body began to shu
dder, “You know you don’t mean it. You know you love me.
” A sob escaped her lips. “Katie told people from school. Everyone will know.”

Angela clamped her arms tightly at
her sides.

So, Brian isn’t in love?