Secrets

A tall, slender man in his mid-forties with short brown hair, a round face with warm eyes, a soft mouth adorned with a small moustache walked into Marv's North Country Cafe, the best diner--actually the only diner--in West Overshoe, Minnesota. A quick look around the restaurant told him she hadn't arrived. He took a seat at the corner booth in the back of the room. He sat there folding and unfolding his hands, cracking his knuckles and tapping his left foot on the floor. He reached inside his shirt pocket for the pack of cigarettes that had been there for the last fifteen years. As he drew out one long, slim stick he drew comfort from the feel of it in his fingers before it was even lit. The doctor said he should give them up. Not that it matters. Nothing matters now, Mike thought. Sharon, the waitress and the wife of the owner/cook starts in his direction. Oh, no he thought. He didn't feel like making small talk today. Besides, he thought she's just looking for gossip. In a small town joint like this one, the rumor mill was faster than the service. He got time to take one good puff before she made it to his table.

“What'll it be today, Mike?” she asked. Mike mumbled something about waiting for someone and tried not to make eye contact. The doctor's news still had him shaken and he didn't want her blabbing it around town that something was wrong with him. She poured him a cup of coffee and went on her way. She stopped over at the window of the kitchen and began whispering something to Marv. She nodded in his direction and kept on talking. Mike could imagine what she was saying about him. “I heard his wife's having an affair and she's leaving him for the guy.” Which of course was partly true, he knew, be Monica would never leave him. He heard the jingle of the bell above the door and looked up from playing with his spoon in his coffee. It was Monica.

His wife had come down here to have lunch with him to discuss their upcoming vacation. Her strawberry blonde hair floated on the breeze created by the door as if opened. Her deep blue eyes which were wide set in her heart-shaped face gave her a look of childlike innocence. The mid-afternoon sun behind her made her glow. Her nave blue business suit hugged her voluptuous curves, the skirt stopping just short of her knees; she didn't look much like an adulteress. But it was no secret to Mike why she had started staying late at work and why it was cold in their bedroom even in July. Walking in, she gave a polite smile to Marv and Sharon as she glanced around the room looking for Mike.

She twirled her hair around her left index finger. She felt its silky softness as she let it slide between her thumb and forefinger. Maybe he didn't come. she thought. He had been angry with her this morning when he left for his appointment. She was sorry that she hadn't been able to go with him. It really was business--this time.

She spotted him sitting in the corner booth. She started slowly toward him and her knees began to shake. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and took a deep breath. “Hi. Have you ordered yet?”

“No. I was waiting for you. So have you thought about where you want to go this year?”

She hesitated. Her eyes darted around the room to make sure know one was close enough to overhear. “First, tell me, what did the doctor say?”

“Well, my tests came back and, uh...”

Recognizing the opportunity to eavesdrop, Sharon strolled over, notepad-in-hand and ears tuned to the hushed tones of a private conversation. When they stopped speaking and turned to her, she looked momentarily disappointed then said, “What can I get for you today?”

They gave their orders to Sharon and were alone once again.

“So what did he say? Are you alright? How were your tests?” She had to keep him talking while she figured out how to convince him it would be good for them if she went to the Bahamas alone this year.

“I thought we were going back to the Bahamas this year. You always said you wanted to go back, and this year we can actually afford it.”

“Yes, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“So, should we get the same place we stayed at on our honeymoon? Or did you want to try somewhere more expensive now that we can afford it. Let's go all out. I want to do all the things we didn't get to do then. The tours, the snorkeling, the parties...” He was trying to keep her talking until he could find a way to break it to her that he might not be around by summer.

“Actually, I was thinking that you might want to stay home this year. You've been sick and maybe traveling long distances wouldn't be good for you.”

“You mean you don't want to go to the Bahamas?”

“No, I mean I'll go to the Bahamas alone.” Well, not actually alone she thought.

She'd finally said it. Now, it was out in the open. She sat back and waited for his response. He sat in stunned silence. He hadn't been expecting this. How could he tell her now that this would be his last summer? The chattering of the other diners began to swirl with Monica's meaningless words. “So sorry...didn't mean for this to happen...there's someone else...” Her last word were lost to him as the room became a cacophony of light and sound. She stood and walked away. He leaned on the table to steady himself as he rose to leave. Standing up, he stepped on the lace of his tennis shoe, untying it. He felt himself stumble and crouched to tie his shoe. As he reached down, he felt the cold, and angry lump of metal strapped to his ankle. He tore back the velcro holding it in place, grasped the familiar handle, rose and fired first one shot then another. The first found its mark squarely in the back of Monica's head. The second, Mike would never see.