Perfect Strangers (10 page)

"Oh, you must be the guy my wife is fucking on the side," Greg said, turning his attention to Jason. He took a step forward and so did Jason, past Veronica. She saw his hands clench into fists.

"That's right," Jason said. "And you must be the shit heel husband who forces Veronica to make him breakfast every morning before she's allowed to eat."

Greg's eyes narrowed and he took another step forward.

"Be careful what you say to me, you piece of shit," Greg said, his voice low.

"Or what?" Jason replied, taking another step forward as well. "What are you going to do?"

Veronica's throat seemed to unstick as she finally found her voice.

"Jason, Greg, stop!" she said, but her words fell on deaf ears. Neither man looked in her direction, each keeping his eyes on the other. They were about 4 feet away from one another.

"You don't deserve Veronica" Jason snarled. "You're a fucking bastard and you know it. You just can't stand that you've lost the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You shut your fucking mouth," Greg snapped, taking another step forward. "I didn't lose Veronica. We're still together."

"Is that so? Then why was it
me
she was kissing just a minute ago?"

That was too much for Greg. He let out a yell and took a swing at Jason, but was too slow. Jason moved his head back with obvious experience, letting Greg's fist take him into a turn. As Greg fumbled, Jason brought his own balled fist around and caught Greg square in the eye. Greg's head snapped back as he stumbled, his hands releasing themselves and lifting to cover his face.

"No!" Veronica screamed. People were standing and watching now, keeping a safe distance but pointing and muttering to each other all the same.

"You fucking shit!" Greg cried out and he charged at Jason. Jason side-stepped him and grabbed onto the shoulder of Greg's shirt, spinning him around. As Greg moved in a circle, Jason's fist came down again, hitting him in the face once more. There was a sickening crunch and Greg went down, his knees collapsing beneath him as his body dropped forward onto the pavement. His nose was dark and bloody now, obviously broken while one of his eyes was turning a deep hue of purple.

"Oh my God, Greg!" Veronica screamed. She ran over to Greg's crumpled frame and dropped to her knees, picking his head up as he rolled over onto his back, coughing up more blood. She held him as he bled out onto her sleeves. He looked semi-conscious, all the fight gone out of his body.

Veronica began to cry and she looked up at Jason, standing over the two of them, his hands still balled into fists. He hadn't broken a sweat but his face was red and he was breathing heavily.

"Why did you hit him?" Veronica cried. "Why did you have to do this?"

"Babe," Jason said, but Veronica began to sob and the words left his mouth.

"Just go!" she cried, tears running down her face now. "Go!"

Jason blinked, a lost look on his face as he watched Veronica cradle her beaten husband. His hands relaxed and he took a step back. Without saying anything else he turned and went quickly to his car, opening the door and getting inside. He shut the door too loudly and Veronica heard the engine roar to life. She closed her eyes and lowered her head to Greg as Jason backed out of the parking spot, switched to Drive and sped away.

Tears ran down her cheeks. She could hear Greg breathing, a wet, rattling noise close to her ears. He lifted one hand and placed it numbly on her arm. She grabbed onto the hand and held him close, her eyes still closed, and in the distance she heard the approaching sounds of police sirens.

Chapter 17

Veronica sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea in front of her. She was alone; Greg was asleep in the bedroom. It had been three days since the scene in the parking lot between Jason and Greg. Someone had called the police, who had in turn called for an ambulance, which had taken Greg to the hospital to check for a concussion. He was okay, luckily, but his nose was broken and he had to get three stitches over his right eye.

Veronica had ridden with Greg in the ambulance, holding his hand the entire way. When all was said and done it was six in the evening. They had to take a taxi back because both of their cars were still at the park. The next day Veronica called Greg's work to tell them he wasn't coming in. He slept while she took two taxi trips back to the park to pick up each car.

The days after that had been tense between the two of them. Greg stayed in bed most of the first day, with Veronica giving him Tylenol-3s and bringing his meals in on a tray. They didn't talk about what happened at the parking lot, something that Veronica was all-too thankful for.

Greg didn't go to work the next day either since the swelling in his face still hadn't gone down. Veronica stayed with him at home -- cleaning, making meals, shopping; just like she used to do. Still, she and Greg didn't talk much. That night they went to bed together but curled up on opposite sides, not touching one another.

Now on this third day, Saturday, Veronica had awoken next to a sleeping Greg. She slid noiselessly out of bed and went down to make herself a cup of tea. Sitting at the kitchen table, she was looking out the window, thinking.

She didn't know what to do. What had gone on in the parking lot was terrible, and she felt so bad about what happened to Greg. She had never intended for him to get hurt, emotionally or physically, and least of all by Jason. But now she felt stuck. She couldn't leave him like this, and she hadn't even heard from Jason. For all she knew, he'd done just what he said and had already moved to another town …

Veronica heard the creaking of stairs as Greg descended them. Her heart picked up in her chest. She clutched to her tea, the heat from the mug almost burning her fingers. Greg shuffled into the kitchen, not saying anything, and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. Veronica had already made a pot of coffee, knowing he would want some. He poured some into his mug, spooned some sugar in, and stirred it before coming over to the table. Veronica didn't speak as he sat down, his eyes set on the table.

She watched as he slurped some coffee and set the mug down with a sigh.

"We need to talk," he said, and he lifted his head. Veronica tried not to wince. His right eye was blotched with dark purple bruises, the sharp, dark lines of the stitches protruding out of his eyebrow. His nose was less coloured, but it was bent slightly to the side, swollen a little in size. She swallowed and nodded, keeping her gaze on his good eye.

"Veronica, I've been thinking a lot over the past few days," Greg said. "That fight that I had with ... with him ... it made me realize something that I wasn't aware of before. Something that I had never really even considered."

He blinked and Veronica saw a tear run down his right cheek. Greg grimaced and wiped it away.

"Veronica, I think you should be with that other guy."

Veronica stared at him, sure that she hadn't heard him correctly.

"W-what?" she asked.

Greg let out a breath, looking everywhere but in her eyes.

"When … when I saw the two of you together," he said, "it brought something up in me that I hadn't felt since I was a kid. It was ... jealousy. But it wasn't the kind of jealousy that happens when you see your wife choosing someone else over you. It was jealousy for someone taking something that I thought was mine. It was jealousy because … he had taken something of mine, and I wanted it back."

Veronica blinked at him.

"And when I went to go fight him," he continued, "I didn't realize it, but I was fighting because the kid in the school yard took my toy. It wasn't for you, or for love, or for the sake of this marriage. It was because I wanted my toy back, regardless of what it — or, you — felt. I wasn't … thinking of you as a person, someone who had their own stake in all of this. I was only thinking of you as something that belonged to me. And that was wrong."

Veronica didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out, so she closed it.

"And for the past few days," he continued, "lying in bed and thinking about this, I think I've realized … I think I've realized how much of a piece of shit I am. I ... I don't love you the way you should be loved, Veronica. I don't love you for who you are. I think I was only in love with you because without you, things would be harder. Even when I started cooking and helping out more, I was really only doing it because I wanted to get things back to the way they used to be.

"When I remember the way that guy looked, Veronica, I remember seeing that he was fighting for you. He was fighting because he wanted
you
.
I
was just fighting because something had been taken from me, and not even anything I deserve."

Greg lowered his eyes to his coffee. Veronica was almost speechless. She opened her mouth.

"Greg ... I had no idea," she said honestly.

He lifted his head again and looked at her. This time two tears ran down to his chin.

"I am so sorry," he said. "I've treated you like shit for so long, for years. I don't deserve you. You are so much better than that."

Veronica felt tears of her own begin to well up in her eyes. All of these years, so many of them being stuck in a marriage of routine, of boredom and unhappiness. It was strange hearing these words coming out of Greg's mouth, but at the same time it was relieving to finally find out the truth.

"Thank you," she said, her voice threatening to crack. Hot, salty liquid ran down her cheeks and she wiped it away. Greg smiled at her.

"I think
… we should get a divorce," he said, struggling to keep his own voice level. "You need to be with someone who loves you for who you are. Not someone who's going to treat you like garbage."

Veronica smiled, sniffing as more tears fell from her eyes. Greg smiled again and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You should go to him, Veronica. The two of you should be together."

Veronica let out a laugh of relief.

"Thank you," she said again, grabbing Greg's hand in hers. She squeezed it and he squeezed back.

"Now go!" he said with a smile. "Go before I change my mind!"

Veronica laughed again and squeezed his hand one last time. She got up and left the kitchen, leaving Greg sitting at the table. Putting on her boots and coat, she grabbed her purse and left the house, shutting the front door behind her.

Chapter 18

Veronica got into her car and turned it on, but as she backed out of the driveway she realized that she didn't know where she was going. She turned out onto the road and started driving away, but the rush she had felt a moment ago was quickly dwindling away. She knew he did car work. And she had his phone number. She decided to try calling him to see if he was home.

Veronica pulled up to a pay phone, stopping on the side of the street and parking her car. She got out and went to the phone, pulling a quarter out of her purse. She picked up the receiver, deposited the money, and dialed the number by memory.

It rang. And rang. Nine, ten, eleven times it rang. Veronica drummed her fingers impatiently against the glass walls of the booth. On the fifteenth ring she hung up. She looked around, wondering what to do. She looked back at the number pad, the metallic squares taunting her. And then an idea suddenly popped into her head.

Veronica picked up the phone and dialed "0", listening to the phone ring once before being picked up.

"Operator, how can I assist you?" a man said.

"Hi," Veronica said to the stranger on the other end, "Um, I'm looking to find someone and I was hoping you could help me."

"Okay, do you have their name?"

"I ... yes, but I only know his first name and phone number. Is there any way you could do a search for his address, or something, please?"

"You only know his first name?" the man asked.

"And his phone number."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't divulge that type of information. I'll need the person's full name."

"But I know his phone number! And I've spoken to him before!"

"I'm sorry ma'am. I could give you his phone number and address if you knew his full name, but that's all I can do. Unless you can prove to me that you know this person, I can't give out their information."

Veronica wracked her brain, trying to think of a solution.

"Look," she said frantically, "I ... I love this man, okay? I love him and I don't even know his last name and I know how stupid that sounds but if you can help me out it would change everything in my life because I've lost him and I don't know if I can get him back. Please, I just need to find him and tell him how sorry I am and how much he means to me, and if you could just please help me out it would
… it would mean so much … to me."

Veronica's throat tightened up as she listened closely to the silence on the other end. The phone was pressed painfully against her ear, and for a terrible moment she thought that the operator had hung up. But suddenly his voice appeared again:

"What's his number?"

Excitement filled Veronica's chest.

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much," she said, and she read off his number slowly. "His name is Jason," she finished.

"One second," the man said, and Veronica was put on hold. She listened to the tinny music, her heart in her throat. After about 30 seconds the operator came back on.

"Jason Reeves?" he asked. Veronica'd never heard his last name before.

"Um, yes," she said.

"457 Parkfield Crescent," the operator said. "Do you need me to repeat that information?"

"No," Veronica replied. "457 Parkfield Crescent, I've got it. Thank you so, so much."

"You're welcome, ma'am," the operator said. "Have a wonderful day."

Veronica heard a click and hung up the receiver. 457 Parkfield Crescent. She didn't need it repeated. Anyone who'd ever watched or heard the local news before knew where Parkfield Crescent was. She got back into her car and turned it on, pulling out into the street.

~~~

Veronica drove down Aberfoyle Street, trying not to stare at any one thing for too long. She had locked the doors of her car 10 minutes ago. Outside in the streets several homeless men, their clothes frayed, looking as though they hadn't eaten in a week, were standing around a fire burning in a garbage can. They turned to follow Veronica's car as she drove past them, and when she was gone they all turned back to the fire.

Veronica was in the slum neighbourhood, the bad part of town that she and all the other well-to-do people talked about but had never been to. The buildings around her were dilapidated, the windows either broken or boarded up. Adults leaned out of the broken ones, folded blankets over the frames, staring out into the street. Dirty-looking children ran and played among the garbage, hiding and seeking in an abandoned lot that housed at least one scrap car.

Veronica turned onto Parkfield Crescent, one of the more notorious of streets in this neighbourhood. It seemed like every day that drug busts and gang wars were happening here, people getting arrested or killed. Veronica slowly past the numbered houses, all of them in a sad state. A lot of the windows had bars over them, with several of the driveways having cars that had recently been broken into.

She counted the numbers going down as she drove. 463 ... 461 ... 459 ... 457. There it was. She pulled up to the sidewalk and parked her car, turning it off and putting the keys in her purse. She stayed sitting, staring at the house. It looked as bad as the rest. Jason's home. She felt sorry for him, sorry that he couldn't be in a better place.

Jason's car was in the driveway, which hopefully meant he was home. She thought over what she was going to say, how she was going to tell him what had just happened between her and Greg. As she sat in the car thinking, the front door of his house opened. Veronica snapped out of her thoughts as she watched a woman dressed very provocatively walk out onto the front step. A second later Jason followed her, stretching his arms up into the air and yawning.

The two talked for half a minute, not aware of Veronica sitting in her car across the street. She watched their lips move soundlessly. Jason leaned forward to say something and the woman laughed, putting a hand on his chest. He laughed too, she said something else, and they wrapped their arms around one another and hugged. Veronica watched in horror as Jason planted a kiss on the woman's cheek, holding her tight as they said goodbye.

Veronica's heart dropped in her chest. Was this how important she was to Jason? That he could sleep with another woman so soon after getting into a fight with her husband? After crying on her shoulder? Veronica began to hyperventilate. She didn't want to see this anymore. She didn't want to be here. She had made a mistake and she needed to leave. Now.

She reached into her purse to grab her keys, but it slipped out of her hands and fell onto the floor by her feet. Veronica swore to herself and leaned down to grab it, but as she did her head hit the horn on the steering wheel, making it honk. She sat bolt upright and saw both Jason and his new woman looking over at her car. The woman said something and Jason shielded his eyes from the sun, trying to see more clearly.

Veronica's heart began to hammer. She leaned down, avoiding the wheel this time, and grabbed her purse. Pulling the keys out of it, she stuck them in the ignition but when she looked up again she saw Jason walking over to her.

She turned the keys but the engine wouldn't start. She tried again but only a whining noise came out. She was almost panicking now as Jason crossed to her door and approached the window. He knocked three times on the glass. Veronica let go of the key and gave up starting the car. She slumped down in her seat and reached down, rolling down the window.

Jason leaned down so he could see into the car.

"Veronica?" he asked, sounding surprised. "How did ... what are you doing here?"

Veronica sighed.

"I came to see you," she said. "But I didn't know you had another woman over. I'll leave, I'm sorry."

Jason looked over at the house where the woman was still standing there, watching the two.

"You mean Alexis?" he asked.

"Sure, Alexis, whatever."

"Alexis is my sister," Jason told her. Veronica turned to stare at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Alexis is my sister. She came over to help me with my painting."

Veronica was at a loss for words.

"Here, come on, I'll introduce you two," he said, taking a step back from the car. "But ... roll up your window first. And lock your doors."

Veronica took a second before nodding mutely and rolling up the window like he said. She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her purse, taking the keys with her. Opening the car door she got out, locked it, and shut it behind her. When she turned to face Jason they locked eyes for a moment before he spoke.

"Come on inside," he said, and he lead the way to his house. Veronica followed as they approached the woman -- Alexis -- still waiting on the front step.

"Who's this?" Alexis asked before Veronica could say anything.

"Alexis, this is Veronica. Veronica, Alexis."

Veronica held out her hand, but Jason's sister didn't take it. Instead her eyes went wide as her eyebrows raised.

"So
you're
Veronica?" she asked.

Veronica felt her face go red as she slowly lowered her hand.

"Um, yes," she said.

"Well, you've got
some
nerve showing your face around here!" Alexis yelled, and she stepped forward as though she were about to attack Veronica. Jason, however, stopped her before she could.

"Whoa, sis," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and holding her back, "it's all right. I'll take care of it. You'd better get going anyway. You don't want to piss off Dominic."

Alexis stared hard at Veronica for a second longer, but soon she relaxed. She turned to look at her brother.

"Yeah, you're right. You're gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Get going, huh?"

"Okay, okay," she said, and she turned back to face Veronica, who took a half-step backwards. "You'd better just watch it, Missy. My brother's a great guy, okay?"

Veronica nodded mutely and watched as Alexis walked past her off the front step and down the sidewalk.

"Come on," she heard Jason say, bringing her back to where she was. She turned and saw that the front door was open. Jason was looking at her. She walked into the house and he followed her inside.

Jason's place was, at first glance, not at all what Veronica was expecting. Given the state of the neighbourhood she thought that it would have been run down inside, with a greasy-looking kitchen and maybe some peeling wallpaper from the 70's. It looked, however, like some real effort had been put into making it look good. Everything was clean and shining bright, the walls were painted, things were organized. There wasn't a mess in sight.

And on the walls were many different drawings and paintings. Veronica saw some that looked like as though child had made them, but scattered throughout were better-looking ones, done by what she would have thought was a professional. In the kitchen, on the table, was a large notepad with sketches in it, and beside the table was an artist's easel, a half-finished painting of the kitchen on it.

"Have a seat," Jason said. Veronica sat down at the table, still looking around. She watched him go to the counter and grab the electric kettle, filling it with water from the tap. "Do you want some tea?" he asked.

"Sure, thanks," she said. "Did you do all these paintings?"

"Yeah, Alexis has been helping me get better," he said with his back turned. "She did a lot of art in high school before she dropped out, so she knows her shit."

He put the kettle on and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, putting a teabag in each and turning back around to face Veronica.

"What ... does Alexis do now?" Veronica asked.

"She turns tricks," he said. "Over on Washington."

"Oh," Veronica said, feeling embarrassed, like she had asked something she shouldn't have. "I'm sorry."

Jason shrugged. "Don't be. It's not ideal, but it's work. Besides, she's safe, and that's what's important. Dominic is a really great guy."

The kettle whistled and Jason turned it off. He poured the steaming water into both mugs and brought them over, setting one in front of Veronica before sitting down in another chair, facing her.

"So what're you doing here, Veronica?" he asked. "How did you find me?"

Veronica stared at the tea as she spoke.

"Well, at first I tried calling you but you didn't pick up. And then I called the operator and was able to get them to tell me your address, which I'm pretty sure was illegal but
…"

She took a sip of her tea. Jason said nothing.

"And the reason I came here," she continued, "is because ... because I want to make things right between us. What happened at the park that day was so messed up, I didn't mean for anything like that to happen to either of you."

"Yeah, well," Jason said, "Greg was pretty pissed off. Is he okay?"

"He had a get a few stitches but other than that he's all right."

Jason nodded.

"I'm sorry about that. I haven't been in a fight in years. It's good to know I can still hold my own, I guess."

"Greg
… and I, we're … getting a divorce." Veronica said. "We had a talk this morning and he told me … he told me some things that really explained a lot. So we've decided to end our marriage, which I think is for the best."