Page 14

I’ll Bring a Salad

Marlene unzipped her purse and slapped the $50,000 in cash onto Shalisa’s kitchen table. Pam thought it would be bulkier.

“Took me six trips to the bank,”

Marlene said as she sat down. “Turns out they don’t recommend you withdraw more than ten thousand dollars at a time. The teller whispered I should get it in batches so it wouldn’t be flagged to the IRS. Not that I have anything to hide, but who wants to be flagged to the IRS?”

Marlene let out a hearty chuckle and looked around for the others to join her. But Nancy brought her hands to her temples, with her elbows on the table, and watched the pile as though it was going to slither into her lap. She looked at Shalisa and said, “Do you have any wine?”

Shalisa raised her eyebrows. “It’s ten a.m.”

Nancy answered, “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Pam looked at her watch. “I’ve only got the morning off. I have to be back at work at one.”

“Me too,”

Shalisa said.

“I don’t care. I need wine.”

Nancy edged her coffee cup away.

Pam caught Shalisa’s eye on her way to the fridge. Nancy had pushed for this from the start and then been gung ho with all her research, but could she be having second thoughts? Shalisa offered a reassuring nod as she fished out a bottle of white and pulled some glasses down from the cupboard.

Marlene zipped up her bag and placed it on the floor beside her. “Gawd! You gals look like I’ve just given you the money for your funerals. Crack open that wine, Shalisa! We need to celebrate. You’re finally getting something you deserve. Good golly! Don’t look so guilty. I’m happy to lend you the money. And Dave, God rest his soul, would be thrilled to be helping you out. Pam! Chin up, bud. You’re getting your hot tub! Hank will love the surprise. Maybe it will spice things up.”

Marlene winked.

Pam exchanged a quick glance with Nancy and Shalisa. They had made a pact to never tell Marlene why they needed the money, and they had good reason. Marlene was a bad-accomplice trifecta: She couldn’t lie, act, or keep secrets. She was exactly who you don’t want around when you’re committing a crime.

They’d each come up with a reason behind their request—Pam’s hot tub, and Shalisa was going to start her own yoga studio. They’d run out of ideas when they got to Nancy, but at the particular moment they were brainstorming, they were enjoying a wonderful cappuccino from the cutest little trailer at a downtown park. Nancy mused aloud how this kind of coffee truck would make a killing at the marina, and voilà, they had their final fake loan request.

For Marlene’s protection they’d documented everything in emails, including phony photos and dummy spreadsheets. Pam suspected Marlene hadn’t looked at any of it, but if she ever needed evidence that she didn’t know what her friends were up to, she had it.

“Listen.”

Marlene grasped Pam’s hand to her left and Nancy’s to her right. “I know everyone thinks I’m a bit scattered, and they’re probably right. But I know people. And from the moment I first saw you guys at the Fun Fair Bake Sale, I thought to myself, I could be friends with them.” Marlene looked at each woman. “You have never let me down. We’ve had good times and bad, more bad lately, but nothing we can do about that. It makes me so happy to be able to help you out. Dave and I had our problems the past few years, but I loved him. And he loved you guys. Hank, Larry, and Andre were like brothers to him. He’d want me to help you.”

Pam avoided Shalisa’s eye as she set down the wine and glasses, but she felt Nancy’s foot press hers under the table. Pam pressed back. She suspected Nancy and Shalisa felt as shitty as she did about deceiving their friend. Marlene unscrewed the bottle’s top and poured, passing the glasses, and said, “I know we had a rough patch the past few years, but now that Dave is gone, I’ve talked to my therapist—”

“—You have a therapist?”

Shalisa asked.

“My sister thinks it’s weird that I’m a grieving widow with no grief.”

Pam could agree with that observation, but given the blows their marriages had suffered, they’d begun the grieving process years ago.

“Anyway, she set me up with a therapist, and I’ve decided my path is to focus on Dave before everything went bad. So that’s what I do. When he pops into my mind, I dial it back to when we still danced. God, I loved to dance with that man. And back to when we still had sex.”

She winked at them. “I liked to do that with him too. And when we still laughed. And you know what? I loved that Dave. And I miss that Dave. I grieve that Dave.” Marlene raised her glass. “So, to that Dave.”

The others joined. “To that Dave.”

Pam loved that Dave too. She recalled the way he’d smiled at her that last night. How she had seen a glimpse of that Dave. But it had just been a glimpse. And then it was gone. The husbands they’d married were gone. She swallowed the lump in her throat and noticed a tear roll down Nancy’s cheek.

Marlene sighed. “And I just want to tell you guys, especially now that I’m moving away, being a wife and a mom was hard. I know it’s easy for some women, but for me it was fucking hard. I wasn’t always sure I could be good at it. And I needed to be, for my girls’ sake.”

A sob caught in Marlene’s throat, and she toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “But you guys got me through. I don’t know where I’d be, or how my daughters would have turned out, if it wasn’t for your support. I owe you everything, and I’m so happy you asked me to help you out. You can’t know how much that means to me.” She let her tears flow.

Here we go. Pam closed her eyes for a second. Marlene had always been a crier. Now they’d get all sloppy and sentimental, and Pam would have to redo her eye makeup before she went to work. She would have loved to let Marlene know she didn’t need to give a speech and say a big goodbye—she’d be seeing them all in Boca Raton next month—but instead she rose and hugged her, and Nancy and Shalisa joined her.

Pam leaned into their embrace. She had felt those same arms around her shoulders at funerals, at birthday parties, in emergency rooms, and in conga lines. She and her friends had always picked each other up and held each other up. And that’s what they’d keep doing. They’d get through this.

After a couple of minutes Pam pulled away, wiped her tears with her sleeve, and mumbled, “We love you too, Marlene,”

as they sat back down.

Marlene forced a smile and blotted her eyes. She cleared her throat, took a sip of her wine, and looked toward Nancy. “Now, tell me all about your coffee trailer.”

For three women who should be excited about the new opportunities the cash on the table was bringing their way, they drank their wine at a tortoise-like pace. When Marlene finally left to meet her real estate agent, they breathed a sigh of relief. As they closed the door behind her and returned to the kitchen table, Nancy said to Pam, “You never said why you changed your mind and agreed to hire Hector.”

Nancy was right. They hadn’t talked about what had prompted Pam to text: I’m in.

Pam pulled out her chair and sat back down. “Hank ate my pad thai.”

Nancy opened her mouth. Then closed it. She pushed her glasses up her nose and finally said, “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Hank ate my leftover pad thai, and he wasn’t even hungry.”

Nancy cocked her head.

“Don’t you get it? Hank knows pad thai is my favorite food and I never get to have it anymore. After Dave’s funeral, I ordered it and saved half for later. The day we dropped Marlene off at the airport, when I asked him where my pad thai was, he said he ate it. Those leftovers were mine, but Hank just hoovered them down like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter. And then just threw it in my face that he wasn’t even hungry.”

“Well. Seeing as you put it that way.”

Nancy leaned back and folded her arms.

“I mean, he didn’t just stab me, he twisted the knife. You don’t do that to someone you love. That’s when I knew he doesn’t love me anymore. When he ate my pad thai.”

Shalisa reached for Pam’s hand and squeezed it.

Nancy pulled a piece of paper from her back pocket and unfolded it. “Alrighty. Let’s take this step by step. The first thing to sort out is how to react when we find out they’re dead.”

Pam and Shalisa exchanged a quick, relieved smile and leaned forward. Whatever doubts Nancy may have had, she was back.

Nancy flattened the page. “Most likely the police will knock on our doors. We have to be surprised.”

She referred to her notes. “One of us should collapse to the floor, one should shriek, and one can just shut the door in shock. I’d like to be that one. Pam, can you shriek? Or at least gasp and cover your face with your hands. Maybe fall back against the wall?”

Pam nodded. “I can do that.”

“Shalisa, I think you should be the one who collapses to the floor. You do yoga; you can get back up.”

Shalisa nodded.

Nancy checked her list. “I don’t think we have to cry right away. Although it wouldn’t hurt, if you can make it happen. But from what I read—in books, not online—it takes a while for the news to sink in; loved ones are more shocked than sad, so the police won’t necessarily expect tears.”

Pam interjected, “I was thinking it’s smartest if we don’t know how Hector’s going to do it. So we don’t have to act surprised, we will be surprised. When we meet up to pay the deposit, we have to make sure he doesn’t tell us any details.”

“You mean, like provide us with a written estimate,”

Shalisa said.

“You know, sarcasm is the lowest form of humor,” Pam said.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

“If they’re missing before their bodies are found, there might be media attention. We should be prepared for a press conference, so you better rewatch Gone Girl,”

Nancy said.

“More recommended viewing,”

Shalisa said.

Nancy countered, “It’s research. We can’t just Lucy and Ethel our way through this. We have to be prepared. I’ve seen Orange Is the New Black, and I don’t think I’d do well in prison. I’m attractive with a sparkling personality. I’d be very popular.”

Shalisa quipped, “Not if you pack your face masks.”

The women chuckled.

Pam said, “Did we settle on a date? I was thinking we should ask him to do it Sunday. Don’t you think? We should make plans for the weekend just to be sure the guys don’t go away. Overnight fishing or anything. We could get together Saturday night for a barbecue at my place. We can say it’s a goodbye party for Marlene.”

“Yeah. They wouldn’t want to miss that,”

Shalisa said.

Nancy nodded. “That sounds good. Then we just have to get through the next few days as normally as possible. Sunday, while it’s happening, we should do something we’d regularly do. It would be good for our alibis if we were out in public.”

Pam said, “Why don’t we go to Target? Their security cameras would catch us. I need a new pair of sneakers. And I’m almost out of that trail mix Hank likes. The ones with the chocolate covered caram—”

Pam stopped. And swallowed. She stared at her hands. “I guess I don’t need to restock Hank’s trail mix.” Her stomach felt like it had a serving of wet cement sitting at its bottom.

They studied the table for a moment, that detail of their new reality sinking in. No more of their husbands’ favorites in the cupboard.

Then Shalisa looked up. “But you should. You should buy his trail mix. It helps with our alibi—that you bought his favorite. You wouldn’t do that if you knew he was gonna be dead. Right?”

Nancy gasped. “You’re right. That’s a great thought. I’ll buy Larry new underwear.”

Shalisa added, “I’ll pick up socks for Andre.”

Nancy held her palm up to Shalisa and they high-fived. “Good thinking on that one, Shalisa! Way to crush an alibi.”

Pam had a flash of memory of Hank sitting on the sofa, watching TV, munching on his trail mix, and offering the jar to Claire. He would save the chocolate-covered caramels for her. She struggled to smile. Then she flashed back to Hank saying “whatever”

and walking out of their kitchen. And she thought of Nancy reuniting with her son and Shalisa’s quest for a fucking fantastic life. And then Pam grabbed on to her own fucking fantastic new life and held both hands up ready for her high-fives. “We’ve got this!”

Nancy said, “You go, girls!”

Shalisa laughed. “We are some badass wives. Don’t mess around with us.”

Nancy added, “We just have to pay our hitman his deposit, get through dinner at Pam and Hank’s Saturday night, and hel-lo, Boca Raton!”

She looked at Pam. “I’ll bring a salad.”

“And I’ll make my chocolate mousse cheesecake.”

Shalisa smiled. “I may even eat two pieces just so I can see that frown on Andre’s face one last time.”

Nancy’s phone buzzed on the table, and Pam saw Marlene’s big smile and bouffant hairdo pop up. Nancy swiped and said, “What’s up, babe?”

She listened for a moment, then answered with, “I’ll check with the others and let you know.”

She put her phone down. “Marlene needs a favor.”