How to Kill Your Husband (3 page)

Claire giggled.

“But I saw you again two weeks later.”

“At assembly.”

“I didn't let you get away that time.”

“No,” Claire said. “You didn't.”

George reached behind his back and came up with a black jewelry box. It was too big to be a ring, but just the perfect size for a necklace. Claire took it with trembling fingers.

“I really loved that video,” George said. “I can't believe you went through so much trouble for me. I want you to know I love you more than anything in this world. I know you've had your eye on that for quite a while. I'm giving it to you tonight because this day reminds me of how special you are, how you mean the world to me. You've given me everything I've ever wanted, so I want to do the same for you…”

With all the build-up, Claire almost couldn't get the box open in her excitement. But she managed. And although the item inside was beautiful, expensive and exquisite, Claire felt a brief pang of
let down
when she saw the necklace.

George got her a curving journey pendant with five diamonds set in white gold. The diamonds grew in size as they descended from the chain, but for the life of her, Claire couldn't remember ever requesting anything so extravagant.

But it was beautiful.

“It's wonderful,” she said.

George stood and wrapped her in his arms. He kissed her deeply and pressed his body into to hers. Claire felt him growing against her.

“Turn around,” he said. “Let me put that on for you.”

Claire returned the pendant and turned her back on him. She raised her hair, and George secured the latch quickly. Claire stepped away when he was done so she could admire the necklace in the mirror over their dresser. George followed. He stood behind her and unzipped her dress while she leaned in for a closer look.

“
Oh, my God, George
. This is incredible!”

“Nothing's more beautiful than you,” he said.

She turned to face him. He slid the dress down her frame, and Claire stepped out of it gingerly. She didn't feel self-conscious at all with his eyes on her. She even felt comfortable with her belly. She peeled off her undergarments slowly, and George's eyes grew larger by the second.

“Wow,” he said when she was down to everything but his gift. He put his hands on her sides then held her hips and caressed her butt. Claire backed him towards the bed with a hand on his throbbing member.

“Why don't you take your pants off?” she suggested.

He jumped out of the britches like they were poisonous and sat down on the mattress. Claire climbed on top of him like a leopard. She put her hands on his neck and looked him in the eyes as she eased down and took him into her. George grabbed her hips again and she moaned, already close to climax.

“I've been thinking about this for
too long
,” she whispered. “I'm already ready…”

He cupped her left breast and suckled the nipple delightfully.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I'll make sure you get another one.”

And he did.

* * *

Claire woke up at 3:43 a.m. That was odd because she had wine with dinner. Alcohol coupled with the pipe work George laid down last night should have had her knocked out until the alarm went off. But Claire wasn't tired at all. She didn't even feel like she'd been asleep.

She sat up carefully and looked over at her husband. George lay on his stomach, snoring lightly. Claire slid her legs over slowly and
crept
out of the bed, though she had no idea why she needed to be sneaky.

But then again, she did know why. She just didn't want to accept it right then because thinking about it made her nauseous.

Claire never put much stock in the idea of
women's intuition
, but she couldn't deny the other-worldly vibes she felt. George's words played over and over in her head until they didn't make sense anymore. And yet they did make sense.

I never forget anything.

I know you've had your eye on that for quite a while.

I never forget anything.

you've had your eye on that

never forget

If she was married to any other man, Claire would have thought nothing of this
faux pas
. What husband doesn't give his wife the wrong gift every once in a while? But George was no ordinary man. He really did have a memory like an elephant. And if he said she had her eye on it for quite a while, then she
did
have her eye on it for quite a while.

The only question was; who was
she
?

Claire tied her robe closed and slipped out of the room with pin-needles pricking the bottom of her feet. Her underarms were moist. Her mouth was dry, and her heart jack-hammered in her chest. In sixteen years she never felt like this. Maybe she was wrong for feeling this now.

Or maybe she was right.

Claire really didn't want to know. But she kept moving.

She navigated the hallways like a ghost and found herself in George's office almost unintentionally. She was afraid to turn on the lights, so she fumbled through her husband's belongings like a cat burglar, flipping papers, scrutinizing little post-its.

She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew it would be in his office, and she knew it wouldn't be hard to find. Claire never invaded her husband's privacy, so he wouldn't keep his secrets in a safe.

She found George's briefcase on the floor next to the coat rack. She took it to the desk and opened it slowly. The small clicks sounded like firecrackers to Claire. She stopped and listened to the darkness several times. She held her breath as she opened it.

Then she closed it again.

This was ridiculous. Was she going to throw away all these years of trust over one misunderstanding? There were a million explanations for what she was thinking.

But Claire was no fool.

I know you've had your eye on that for quite a while.

She never once told him she wanted a diamond necklace.

I never forget anything.

She opened the briefcase again and found what she was looking for in the first pocket she searched. Claire pulled out the Hallmark card and read it slowly in the darkness. It was nothing, really. It was innocent. It definitely wasn't something she could shove in his face as hard evidence.

But it was enough; enough to make her start crying on what was supposed to be a very special day.

It was a
Thinking of You
card. Written in blue ink were the words:

Good luck with your meeting today.

I believe in you.

You make me proud.

Kim

Claire's face folded in on itself, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to remain strong. This card didn't prove anything. Kim could be anyone. If Kim was Asian, he could actually be a
man
.

And the handwriting wasn't necessarily
feminine
. Calligraphy was originally a male-dominated field. Surely there were men out there who still wrote this beautifully…

I know you've had your eye on that for quite a while.

I believe in you.

I never forget anything.

You make me proud.

I know you've had your eye on that for quite a while.

Kim.

Claire breathed fire from her nostrils. She decided right then and there that if her suspicions were true, she was going to murder her husband. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. If George was cheating on her, she was going to kill his sorry ass.

CHAPTER THREE

THE CARD

Claire sat at her desk the next morning still lost in a flood of emotions. Everything seemed to be happening around her without much thought or action on her end. She knew she got the kids ready for school. She knew she made breakfast for them, and she kissed George Sr. on the way out of the house, but it all had the hazy sensation of
déjà-vu
.

Claire approved the first ten files in her box without much scrutiny, not really wanting to argue with anyone. Becky came and stood behind her computer when it was time for their mid-morning break. Without a word passed between them, Rebecca knew something went wrong with Claire's special day.

“Hey,” Becky said with a guarded smile.

“Hey,” Claire mumbled.

Today Becky wore a flowing sundress with a pink background and colorful floral prints. Claire wore black slacks with a gray sweatshirt. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail for convenience, but the move left her whole face exposed on what was not one of her prettier days.

She didn't have on makeup. This was the norm, but Claire's trademarked cheeriness—which usually added a glow to her countenance—was missing. She looked tired and stressed, angry and haggard.

“
Sooo
, how'd it go last night?” Becky queried.

Claire shrugged. “It was fine,” she said without looking up.

“Did, um, did George have to work late?” Becky asked.

“No. He got home around six-thirty.”

“So he didn't like your video? You burned the lobster? He wouldn't give you any? Come on, girl, tell me what happened. You've been over here looking pissed all morning.”

Claire looked up at her friend, and she didn't look pissed at all anymore. Her eyes were glossy, and Becky saw that she was close to tears.

“
Claire
, what's wrong, honey?”

Claire shook her head. “I don't know. Maybe nothing.”

“It doesn't look like nothing. You want to go to the break room?”

“No,” Claire said, thinking about all the gossips in there.

“Let's go outside,” Becky suggested.

Claire sighed and stood slowly on stiff legs. “All right.”

* * *

The spring morning was warm and beautiful. The daily temperatures in Overbrook Meadows, Texas, would skyrocket to a hundred-plus in a few months, but in April it rarely got over eighty degrees. A soothing breeze tickled the branches of rejuvenating dogwood trees, sending pink petals drifting through the air like snowflakes.

Becky led her friend around the building where concrete benches were set up for a smoking section. Smoking was no longer allowed on the Provincial campus, so the area was pleasantly vacant. Claire took a seat and stared out at the traffic blazing by on Hulen Avenue. Becky sat next to her and waited anxiously.

Claire looked her friend in the eyes and chuckled nervously. “I hope I'm going crazy,” she said.

Becky reached into her lap and held Claire's trembling hand. “You're scaring me,” she said.

Claire took a deep breath and the tears started to fall again. “I can't believe I'm thinking this,” she said. “I don't even want to say it—not about George.” She let go of her friend's hand and retrieved the
Thinking of You
card from her purse. She handed it over without saying anything.

Becky took it hesitantly and didn't open it right away. She kept her eyes on Claire's. “What's this?”

Claire shook her head. “Just read it.”

Becky did, but she didn't have the look of horror Claire expected when she was done. “Where did you get this?” she asked.

“Out of George's briefcase.”

Becky was confused. “So what is it? Is this what you're upset about?”

“Last night,” Claire said, “George gave me a diamond necklace for our anniversary. It's a journey pendant. It's beautiful, and expensive.”

Becky nodded and listened intently.

“He told me…” Claire took another breath, but couldn't stop her voice from hitching. “He told me I meant everything to him, and, and he wanted me to have everything I wanted.”

“That's beautiful,” Becky said.

Claire held a hand up. “He said he knew I had my eye on that necklace for a long time, but I
didn't
.” She shook her head. “I never
once
said anything about wanting that necklace, or any other necklace.”

Becky's look of confusion changed to concern. She gazed down at the card in her hands again. “So…”

“So I knew he had me confused with someone else,” Claire said. “George has a great memory, but he slipped up this time. I think some other bitch has been nagging him about that necklace, but he got it for me accidentally.”

Becky's mouth fell open.

“I found that card in his briefcase last night,” Claire said. “What kind of message does that sound like to you?”

Becky was still too shocked to speak.

“It could be one of the managers,” Claire mused, “but, but she said ‘I believe in you. You make me pr-proud.'” Her features started to crumple again, and Claire put both hands up to hide her sorrow. “That's something
I
would say to him,” she moaned through her fingers. “That sounds like someone who
loves
him!”

“Aww, honey.” Becky put an arm around her shoulder and comforted her as best she could. “You, you can't believe that.”

“Why not?” Claire bawled. Becky's husband left her two years ago after similar infidelities. Claire didn't understand how her friend could be so naïve after going through the same thing so recently.

“You've been with George since you were in high school,” Becky said. “You guys love each other more than any couple I know. I mean, you
really
love each other, you're not just putting on a show for the kids.”

Claire nodded and sniffled loudly.

“George would
never
cheat on you,” Becky said. “If he was, you'd know something by now. I think this is just a misunderstanding.”

Claire took her hands from her face and wiped her eyes, glad she didn't have any messy mascara to contend with. “He works late almost every night,” she said. “He goes on business trips all the time. A lot of times he's gone for a whole week.”

“Why are you talking like that?” Becky asked.

“I was thinking about it,” Claire said, “this morning, when I couldn't go back to sleep. I was just lying there thinking about all the times he was gone, all the times he came in after I was asleep. Everything started to make sense.”

Becky smiled encouragingly. “Claire, George is successful at work. You tell me all the time how good he's doing. He's working hard for
you guys
. Everything he does is a sacrifice for the family.”

Claire knew her friend's words were true, and she was eager to accept them, but still…“What about that card?” she asked. “What about the necklace?”

“Are you sure you didn't maybe say it on a whim?” Becky offered. “Maybe you were walking downtown and you said you liked it, not thinking much about it. Or maybe you saw it on TV one day. Maybe he thought it meant more to you than it really did. That's not such a bad thing, Claire. It just means he's attentive.”

Claire took a deep breath and took a napkin from her purse. She blew her nose and wiped away the last of her tears with the back of her hand. “You really think so?”

Becky grinned. “I
know
so,” she said. “I've been around you guys. I know how much he loves you. It's real. You know it is.”

Claire smiled too, but it was mostly forced. “What about that card?” she asked, staring down at her friend's hands.

“I think it's one of his co-workers,” she said. “Or maybe his secretary. They're doing a lot of good things in those big companies nowadays. They treat their employees like
real people
with feelings. I don't think that card is from his
lover
, Claire. I mean, come on. Do you really think George would cheat on you?”

Claire giggled nervously and shook her head. “No,” she said. And she meant it.

“Come on,” Becky said. “We were supposed to be back five minutes ago. Mr. Roubidou is going to make us eat lunch at our desks.”

Claire chuckled. “I think I forgot my lunch today,” she said. “My head's been so cloudy.” She stood and her muscles cried out, protesting the night with no rest. “Oh,” she said, rubbing her spine. “I'm tired, girl.”

“I'll bet you are,” Becky said. She stood and gave the card back. “I brought some leftover meatloaf, but I can take you to Golden Corral if you don't have anything.”

“No,” Claire said. “I'll take
you
to Golden Corral. You're a good friend, Rebecca. I was losing it.”

“It's okay. Even perfect people go crazy sometimes,” she said with a smile. “And don't call me
Rebecca
.”

Becky thought her full name made her
feel
all thirty-nine of her years. This woman was as quirky as they come, but she was also rational and sensible, all things Claire needed on a day like this.

They went back in and Claire found fault in the very next file she looked at. She took that as a sign that her shattered emotions were on the mend. At lunch they dined pleasantly and talked about the earlier incident only briefly. It took the tone of a
silly moment in time
, like the time Becky wore a dark blue pump and a black pump to work.

* * *

But by the time Claire got off, the journey pendant was at the forefront of her mind again. She picked up George Jr. and Stacy like any other day. But on the way to Nikki's school, she started to grill them, not really knowing what she was doing at first.

“How was school?”

George was in the back this time. Stacy sat up front, staring out of the passenger window like a tourist. All of the middle school kids lucky enough to
walk
home were a mystery to her. She thought they probably had jobs and wood-chopping chores and everything.

Stacy wore denim capris this afternoon with another pink T-shirt. This one had
100% NATURAL
sprawled across the chest. Her modest raisins barely dented the fabric.

“How was school?” Claire asked again.

Stacy looked over at her and shrugged. “It was okay, I guess.”

“What about you, boy?”

“It was great!” George Jr. bounced in the backseat like they had cotton candy right before the last bell. “My lima bean is growing!” he announced. He held up his plastic cup, and Claire nodded.

“That's nice. Did you guys have fun with your daddy last night?”

“Yes!” George Jr. said. Stacy shrugged.

“What's your deal?” Claire asked her. “You too cool to have fun with your daddy now?”

The little girl smiled. “I'm not too cool.”

“What do you like to do with your dad?” Claire asked. “Where's the best place he takes you guys?”

“I like the tracks,” George Jr. said immediately.

The Lone Star Park was one place that was just for George and the kids. Possible animal cruelty aside, Claire simply didn't see what was so enjoyable about sitting in the sun all day waiting for thoroughbreds with odd names to streak by. The fact that her father was a dysfunctional gambler probably had a lot to do with Claire's opinion. And then there was the possible animal cruelty…

“I like the racetrack, too,” Stacy said.

“What do you like about it?” Claire asked.

“I like the horses' names,” George said. “And people stand up and yell at them.”

“I like watching Dad,” Stacy said. “When he wins, he gets so happy. He buys us whatever we want.”

“Sometimes he takes some of his friends with him, doesn't he?” Claire fished.

“Mr. Hodges comes with us sometimes,” George Jr. confirmed.

“Just him?” Claire asked.

“He brings his wife sometimes,” George Jr. said. “
She
doesn't hate horses.”

“I don't hate horses,” Claire said.

“She just doesn't like them,” Stacy said.

“I never said I don't like horses,” Claire said.

“Horses are cool,” George Jr. said.

“When Mr. Hodges brings his wife,” Claire went on, “does she ever bring any of
her
friends with them?”

No one said anything right away, and Claire felt a quick stab of pain behind her sternum.
I was right! I knew it
.