front door and ran outside. She was like a volcano ready to explode so she decided she might as well keep running. And that’s exactly what she did, all the way around the leafy trails of Caribou Lake.
Clem stood in the shower soaping his body from head to foot as if cleansing himself of a contagious skin disease. Physically, Clem was in great shape and took pride in his appearance but his apparent ‘squash’ bruises from the other night were giving him quite a banged up look. The steaming hot water blasting out of the large circular showerhead drowned him in a cascading waterfall, like a baptismal purification washing away his sins. Clem closed his eyes and turned his face upward so the water drenched his face. He stood there for fifteen long minutes lost in a mental no man’s land. It felt good, so good.
After toweling himself dry and putting on his bathrobe, he felt more spent than usual on this particular night. He went downstairs to the kitchen and poured himself a large brandy then went looking around the house for his wife. Finding no one home, Clem sat down on the sofa and started flipping through the TV channels on the remote as he usually did to unwind. Nothing grabbed his attention. He turned it off and went back upstairs to the bathroom.
Rifling through the cabinet drawers, Clem found a red plastic canister of Oxycontin. It was an old prescription from when he’d torn his meniscus on the basketball court a few years back. The pills were an easy way to zone out and while he didn’t need them for his knee injury anymore, they sure helped him relax quickly and mixed with some booze it was the perfect cocktail for a very good night’s sleep. Clem gulped down a single pill with the remains of his brandy and got into bed. If that didn’t send him into a deep sleep nothing would. He didn’t know where Tara was and was really too tired and woozy to worry about her right now.
Outside, the June night sky was a beautiful deep blue hue. The last glows of sunlight illuminated the soft edges of the motionless puffy and darkening clouds. By the time Tara got back to the house it was past nine and the last vestiges of daylight were clinging to life. The run had burned all the adrenalin out of her system and calmed her somewhat. It had given her time to think more clearly about what she needed to say to Clem but there would be no confrontation tonight with Clem now sleeping as soundly as a hibernating grizzly.
Tara awoke the next morning in the guest bedroom. She’d had a bad night tossing, turning and thinking. But downstairs in the kitchen, Clem was already up and getting breakfast. She could hear the La Pavoni spitting out an espresso. Tara pulled on her pink robe and headed downstairs. She was still barely awake as she ambled into the kitchen.
Her husband looked his usual immaculate self in his dark gray suit sporting a lemon silk tie over a crisp white shirt. He was feeling good about life again after a very good night’s sleep and Frank’s reassuring words.
“You sleep in the guest bedroom last night?” Clem sipped the hot foam off his cappuccino.
“Uh huh,” Tara mumbled as she contemplated the opening gambit of her verbal assault. Still drowsy from her turbulent night, she already felt at a disadvantage for any early morning mental jousting. If they were going to get into it she was already behind on points with Clem so annoyingly perky, alert and caffeinated.
“Why?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Man, I slept like a baby. I took an Oxycontin and crashed. Hey, d’you pick up my suit yesterday?” Clem asked, rather flippantly.
“No.” Tara snapped back as she headed straight for the bagels. She wasn’t going to admit that she had. Clem took another sip of his cappuccino as he quickly flipped through the business section of the Star Tribune.
“Oh, okay. No biggie.”
His off-the-cuff response got Tara’s heartbeat going but she refused to make eye contact with him. No biggie? Little did
Clem stood in the shower soaping his body from head to foot as if cleansing himself of a contagious skin disease. Physically, Clem was in great shape and took pride in his appearance but his apparent ‘squash’ bruises from the other night were giving him quite a banged up look. The steaming hot water blasting out of the large circular showerhead drowned him in a cascading waterfall, like a baptismal purification washing away his sins. Clem closed his eyes and turned his face upward so the water drenched his face. He stood there for fifteen long minutes lost in a mental no man’s land. It felt good, so good.
After toweling himself dry and putting on his bathrobe, he felt more spent than usual on this particular night. He went downstairs to the kitchen and poured himself a large brandy then went looking around the house for his wife. Finding no one home, Clem sat down on the sofa and started flipping through the TV channels on the remote as he usually did to unwind. Nothing grabbed his attention. He turned it off and went back upstairs to the bathroom.
Rifling through the cabinet drawers, Clem found a red plastic canister of Oxycontin. It was an old prescription from when he’d torn his meniscus on the basketball court a few years back. The pills were an easy way to zone out and while he didn’t need them for his knee injury anymore, they sure helped him relax quickly and mixed with some booze it was the perfect cocktail for a very good night’s sleep. Clem gulped down a single pill with the remains of his brandy and got into bed. If that didn’t send him into a deep sleep nothing would. He didn’t know where Tara was and was really too tired and woozy to worry about her right now.
Outside, the June night sky was a beautiful deep blue hue. The last glows of sunlight illuminated the soft edges of the motionless puffy and darkening clouds. By the time Tara got back to the house it was past nine and the last vestiges of daylight were clinging to life. The run had burned all the adrenalin out of her system and calmed her somewhat. It had given her time to think more clearly about what she needed to say to Clem but there would be no confrontation tonight with Clem now sleeping as soundly as a hibernating grizzly.
Tara awoke the next morning in the guest bedroom. She’d had a bad night tossing, turning and thinking. But downstairs in the kitchen, Clem was already up and getting breakfast. She could hear the La Pavoni spitting out an espresso. Tara pulled on her pink robe and headed downstairs. She was still barely awake as she ambled into the kitchen.
Her husband looked his usual immaculate self in his dark gray suit sporting a lemon silk tie over a crisp white shirt. He was feeling good about life again after a very good night’s sleep and Frank’s reassuring words.
“You sleep in the guest bedroom last night?” Clem sipped the hot foam off his cappuccino.
“Uh huh,” Tara mumbled as she contemplated the opening gambit of her verbal assault. Still drowsy from her turbulent night, she already felt at a disadvantage for any early morning mental jousting. If they were going to get into it she was already behind on points with Clem so annoyingly perky, alert and caffeinated.
“Why?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Man, I slept like a baby. I took an Oxycontin and crashed. Hey, d’you pick up my suit yesterday?” Clem asked, rather flippantly.
“No.” Tara snapped back as she headed straight for the bagels. She wasn’t going to admit that she had. Clem took another sip of his cappuccino as he quickly flipped through the business section of the Star Tribune.
“Oh, okay. No biggie.”
His off-the-cuff response got Tara’s heartbeat going but she refused to make eye contact with him. No biggie? Little did
Similar Books
