Dead to Her(10)

She needed to be careful, she knew that. She couldn’t put all this at risk with one of her wild emotional obsessions. She had to keep her head straight. To concentrate on Billy—and that meant not getting distracted. She took a last glance at one of the photos before turning away. She had to keep those feelings boxed up for private moments. Something to fantasize about while Billy wheezed and slobbered all over her.

She turned the alarm off and went out onto the terrace, the night a wall of heat to penetrate, no hint of a breeze. It calmed her though. She had to think kinder thoughts about Billy. He had rescued her from a life she hated and a family who scared her. This was a beautiful place. She had to find a way to enjoy it until it was all hers.

Tiny yellow bulbs twinkled on strings in the trees, leftovers from the party. A light was also still on in the apartment above the garages, where Zelda lived. She must be a night owl too. What time was it? One in the morning? Two? The light went out as she stared up at the window and she smiled. Maybe Zelda had the right idea. It was too late to be awake. She should have taken a pill or something to help her sleep. There was only so long Billy would put up with her sleeping half the morning and the less time she could spend in bed the less chance there was of him pawing at her more.

She took a last look at the glittering trees and then went back into the cool house. Her skin had goose-pimpled as she crept back under the sheets, and for a while she just lay in the dark, lost in her heated thoughts of eyes meeting, before, finally, she fell into a fitful sleep of lustful dreams and family memories she’d rather forget.





7.

It was ten when Keisha woke, the sheets tangled between her thighs like a drained lover, and she squinted against the light that streamed through the large windows. It made her feel good. A fresh start. Today, she would be a good wife. She stretched for a moment before grabbing her robe and heading downstairs. Coffee. She needed coffee. Strong, lovely American coffee.

She filled a mug from the machine in the kitchen and then followed the trail of noise to Billy’s office. Her nose crinkled as she passed several large vases filled with pungent flowers, a cacophony of color and scent filling the hallway that gave her a wave of cloying nausea.

“Jesus, Billy,” she said, as she drifted into his office and went to kiss him dutifully on the cheek. “Where did all those awful flowers come from?”

“Morning, honey.” He was leaning against his desk, face red from the treadmill, a carton of coconut water in hand. She should be glad he was making an effort, but the sight of him in his sportswear, so pleased with himself, made her want to cringe. Youth was for the young. His was gone. No matter how often he got on the treadmill, he couldn’t run from old age and death. He’d be better off making his peace with it.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The voice came from behind her. Elizabeth, sitting demurely on the leather couch, notebook and diary open on the coffee table. “It’s habit. I used to get them for Eleanor every few days. She loved all the perfumes. I did it without thinking.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” Keisha said, feeling entirely not sorry. There was a brief glint in the secretary’s eye that made Keisha wonder if the flowers had been bought to remind her once again that she was simply a poor replacement. “Of course. Eleanor.” She spoke the last word softly. The dead wife who wouldn’t be laid to rest.

“I’ll get Zelda to throw them out.” William squeezed her waist and she gave him her sweetest smile.

“Only if that’s okay.” She leaned in, pressing her body against his. Think of the money. The big prize. The inheritance. All those voices in her head, hers only one among those of others she knew, family, friends, lover. “I know it’s hard for you.”

William took another sip of his drink. “No more flowers unless you’ve chosen them.” He paused. “And I’ll have that portrait taken down too. You shouldn’t have to look at that every day. This is your home now.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him again, this time on the lips. Was he having the portrait taken down for her or for him? Did he feel guilty that he’d moved on so quickly? Either way, it didn’t matter. She knew men. She’d seen enough at the club. Out of sight was out of mind. Whatever his lingering feelings were for his first wife, they’d vanish with the painting. Maybe that’s why all the photos of Lyle were hidden away too. Men weren’t very good at feeling was what she’d learned in life. It was too hard. Too real. She was the opposite. Sometimes she was sure she would be overwhelmed by real.

“I’ll get it put in storage.” Elizabeth scribbled herself a note. “And I’ll speak to the kitchen designer about that faulty drawer. I have no idea how things are falling down the back into the space there but maybe don’t keep your glasses or passport in there anymore.”

“Thanks.” William turned to Keisha. “Will you be okay if I go into the office for a couple of hours?” William said. “I’ve got to start your green card paperwork and there’s no point paying another lawyer to do it when I have a firm of them.”

“Of course, I’ll be fine. Take as long as you need.”

“I also want to get a new life insurance policy. And make some changes to my will.” His eyes shone. Today he was in a good mood, her adoring puppy, not an old dog baring its teeth. “Now, I’d better go shower and change.” Elizabeth took that as her cue to disappear and leave them alone.