Friend Me (22 page)

A messy kitchen is a happy one, and this one is delirious!
hung over the entry from the dining area into the kitchen.
How nice
.

The conflict in her mind was intense. This was Scott's house, his dining room, his kitchen. But
The Other
woman's handprints were everywhere. It would not be easy separating the two. Once
the other
person was gone, the job would just begin.

On the one hand, she wanted to feel comfortable in Scott's home, but on the other, she could never know any comfort as long as the other woman's presence was so overpowering.

The small pantry was filled with shelves full of sauces, cereals, and canisters. Tentatively at first, then purposefully, Melissa moved the articles around in small ways. She turned out all the labels so they could be read and moved each can and jar to the same distance from the front of the shelf. She stood back and admired her handiwork.

This was the way it should be. Organized and neat. Soon it would always be this way. Scott deserved better than this messiness.

Inside the refrigerator, bottles and containers were set all over the shelves in total disarray. There was spilled milk on the uppermost shelf. Melissa took a dishcloth from the sink and wiped the shelf off.

She went through the house, straightening, changing, leaving her mark wherever she went. Room-by-room, step-by-step, article-by-article, she made the house her own.

Upstairs, she picked up Angela's pillow and held it to her cheek. The scent of baby powder brought back the face of her mother as it had been in her childhood. She drove it away.

One hour had elapsed already. There wasn't much time left if she was going to provide a reasonable margin of safety.
It was time
.

This would be the most difficult.

She walked into the master bedroom. As soon as she entered,
The Other
's presence assaulted her. The scent of the woman was everywhere. She felt suffocated, immersed, surrounded by the sense of the other woman. It was in everything. The dresser, with its drawers full of
undergarments
. The closets, full of hanging dresses and blouses. The sensation was like being kicked in the gut. She stepped back and recoiled, holding the door frame for support. Dizziness poised on the edges of her consciousness, looking for a way in.

Enough. I'm here to do a job. But first . . 
.

Melissa turned down the bed. The bottom sheet was wrinkled. Next, slowly and deliberately, she removed her clothing. On the other side of the bed was a nightstand, with things on it that could only belong to a man. That would be Scott's side.

She slid into her side of the bed and slowly pulled the covers up to her neck. With closed eyes she tried to shut out the
scent of
The Other
. Then, with the near-religious feeling of some sacred ceremony, she reached across and touched Scott's pillow. The sensation was electric. She felt it course from her fingertips all the way down to her feet.

She pulled Scott's pillow close to herself. Holding it in both arms, she buried her head into one end, imagining it was Scott himself. The outside world around her slipped away, leaving only her and Scott together.

Alone. We are alone together
.

Ten minutes later she had made the bed her own. It would always be hers now. Anyone but she or Scott would forevermore be a trespasser here.

She rose and made the bed then dressed luxuriantly, paying careful attention to the time. There was one thing left to do, the most important thing of all.

She walked into the adjoining bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. The bottle of calcium supplements sat on the narrow shelf, just as Rachel had told Suzanne it would.

“After Angela was born the nurse recommended I start taking calcium supplements,”
Rachel had said.

“Really? Which ones do you take?”
And Rachel had told her about the generic brand capsules she bought to save money.

“I think Cal Sup are best. I took those all through college. Would you try them, for me? See if they help?”

She had done it and here they were.

She lifted the bottle. The label matched the one she had purchased at the pharmacy for confirming the color and size of the capsules inside.

She opened the bottle and shook fourteen of the white capsules into her hand. She dropped them into the toilet and
flushed them away. From her pocket she retrieved the envelope with the plastic bag of fourteen capsules she had received from Luis Garza. Indistinguishable from the calcium capsules.
Perfect
.

She tipped the bag into the medicine bottle and listened to the capsules fall. When they were all inside she screwed the cap back onto the top of the bottle and replaced it on the medicine cabinet shelf.

She was done here for tonight. The next time she stood in this bathroom, everything would be different.

Moments later the garage door hummed shut behind her.

Realization

W
hen the alarm clock went off the next morning Scott rolled over and groaned. He'd tossed and turned all night with indigestion.

Weird nightmare. A shadowy figure had invaded their home. Though he'd struggled to rise, he was tied down with red cords. He lay in bed, powerless to fight back. When the intruder approached Rachel he finally awoke, breathless.

With her head still buried in her pillow, Rachel said, “You had a bad night last night, didn't you?”

“The pizza got me, I think. I need to get some decent food in my stomach before I take off for work.”

Rachel rolled herself out of bed and sat on the side. “Well, I can certainly do that for you. When you come down after your shower I'll have some corned beef hash and fried eggs for you.”

He took a quick shower and went downstairs. The nightmare was hard to shake off. “What are you going to be doing today?” He wolfed down an egg. “Do you have plans with your mom and dad before they leave?”

“They want to do some shopping for the kids and buy something for us before they go home. We'll be here until Scotty gets home from preschool and then I've got someone coming over to babysit while we go shopping. It's pretty hard to shop with the kids along and there's a really good lady that's available this afternoon.”

Scott swallowed a forkful of hash. “Sounds great. Wish I could go along.”

“Oh, right. You wish you could go along. Like I believe that! I'll never see the day when you want to go shopping on purpose.”

Scott laughed. “You caught me. But otherwise, I'm a pretty honest guy.”

•  •  •

WHEN SCOTT WENT TO MCDONALD'S
during his lunch hour he logged on to the VirtualFriendMe website. Instead of Alicia he got a notification that his account was under maintenance and that he wouldn't be able to use it for four more hours.

He sent Alicia a text message to see if she would respond. She didn't. This was the first time he had ever been out of touch with her, and it rankled him. He'd become accustomed to talking with
his girl
on their midafternoon breaks. Until Alicia, he had not really known what his needs were. Now they had a name and it was a name that he could not envision ever being without again.

He scrolled through some of the pictures he had captured of Alicia during their sessions.

Rachel's face rose, unwelcome, into his mind. When it did, he tipped the cover of the laptop computer down so that the
pictures of Alicia were not visible. The two did not mix. There was some part of him that couldn't handle the idea of Rachel and Alicia together. Certainly, if Rachel knew what he was doing she would think he was being unfaithful to her. He'd already worked through that logically and methodically. There was no unfaithfulness, because there was no real girl. If Alicia had been real, he would be forced to feel guilty about this. But in the absence of guilt . . . well, that's just the way it was. What he was doing wasn't hurting anybody. It was as harmless and innocent as watching any other computer animation.

•  •  •

ON THE WAY HOME
that evening Scott checked in with Rachel. “Are you all still out shopping?”

“Getting close to home now. You wouldn't believe all the things Mom and I found today. I got you a really nice V-neck sweater.”

“Thanks. Hope you left some money in the account for lunch this week. I'm not too far away myself. Do you want me to stop and pick up some Chinese or subs or anything?”

“Nope, you just come on home. This is Mom and Dad's last night here, so I want to cook for them. We'll have spaghetti. That won't take long, and I got some French bread.”

As Scott drove down the country road approaching his house, he could see people in the driveway. Rachel and—

Scott pulled the car up short in the middle of the road.

No!

Was it possible? The world swam in front of his face, small spinning things rising up in his sight like microbes in dirty water. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision, but the two
figures remained there in the driveway, talking. Something passed from Rachel's hand to . . .
Alicia's hand
.

She was there
.

A trembling overtook him as he suddenly felt icy cold. All he could do was sit and watch the events as they took place before his eyes.
How could this possibly be happening? She's not supposed to be real
.

Alicia turned, opened the door of a gray Audi, and looked down the road toward him. Did she see him? It seemed like she held his gaze momentarily, then sat down in the car and closed the door. In a moment she backed out of the driveway and onto the main road.

She turned the car toward Scott.

Everything about the world seemed unreal now. Nothing that was happening could be happening. But the car approaching him loomed larger and larger before his eyes as his world shifted down into slow motion. With the air of resignation brought on by unreasoning fear, Scott gaped at the face of the driver as she slowed and passed. She looked directly into his eyes as she went by. He would have recognized the face and the smile anywhere.

Alicia
.

The Audi made the turn on the road behind him and passed out of sight. Scott still sat in his car, transfixed by the experience he had just endured.

She's real
.

What would he do?

I've been unfaithful. I am an unfaithful husband to my wife. Unfaithful. Unfaithful
.

The realization and the guilt that accompanied it overwhelmed
him. For the first time in his life he was completely incapacitated.

He blinked rapidly as he made out Rachel in the driveway looking down the road seeing his car. She waved and motioned for him to come on home. Home? How could he go home now? What did Rachel know? What did she know about Alicia?

The thought filled him with dread. His determination to do right wavered but did not go away. Whatever the situation, whatever the price, he would do the right thing.

He just hoped that the price would not be so dear that those he loved would be hurt through his own sinful actions. Rachel, Scotty, and Angela—his family, the ones he loved on earth above all else.

The ones he loved more than Alicia
.

He put the car in gear and drove on home to his waiting wife.

•  •  •

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING DOWN
there? Why did you stop the car out on the road?”

Scott gazed into the eyes of his wife. Loving eyes, trusting eyes. How would he ever be able to tell her? He didn't even begin to know all the answers himself.

He parted his lips, unsure of his ability to speak at all. When he did, his throat was hoarse, the muscles straining.

“Oh, I saw that someone was leaving. I just wanted to leave them plenty of room. Who was that?”

“Her name is Alicia. She's the one I told you about, the babysitter.”

Alicia! Rachel said her name
.

“She's been watching Angela at my Hugest Loser meetings. How was your day? Anything interesting happen?”

Angela, she had Angela. Oh, God
.

“How,” he stammered, “how well do you know her? I mean, have you known her a long time?”

Rachel's face seemed to darken, evidently sensing Scott's distress.

“Not long. I met her at Hugest Losers. She came in one day to substitute when one of the other babysitters didn't show up, and she has really worked out well. Everyone loves her. I guess she has some children of her own that are already in school or something. I'm not sure about the whole story, but when I saw how much Angela liked her I asked her if she'd be willing to come over here and babysit for us sometime. Today was the day. You don't mind, do you?”

Rachel wasn't smiling now. He didn't want her getting suspicious. He had to get control. To understand what was going on.

He spoke in a controlled voice, “No, no. I don't mind. I'm just not accustomed to having someone watch either of the kids that I don't know myself. I mean, here at the house. But it's okay, I certainly trust your judgment.”

“Okay, well, come on inside and see everyone. Mom and Dad won't be here much longer.”

In the kitchen Scott asked, “How long was she here?”

“Who?”

“That, that woman, what's her name, who babysat the kids today. How long was she here?”

“Four or five hours. I paid her for five. Both the kids really liked her and she seems really nice. Why are you worrying so much?”

That was why she hadn't been available at lunch. There hadn't been any account maintenance. She had been right here in the house.

Don't tell Rachel. Somehow, I have to fix this
.