The Boulevard Monster, page 9
Crouched low, we crept out from behind the dumpster and made our way to the back of the Fit. Then on the count of three, we jumped up and yelled, “Surprise!”
Brianne’s eyes widened in startled shock, but she didn’t move or say anything. Sera rushed over, grabbed her by the hand, and led her to the Fit. Ryan slapped my back, we high-fived, and followed them.
“Get in,” Sera told Brianne, opening the driver’s door. “Check it out.” Sera peered at me as Brianne sat down, and I could practically see our ring-secret leaking from her eyes. I winked at her and then bent forward, putting my hands on my knees so I could see Brianne. “What do you think?” I asked.
Brianne craned her neck, taking in the car’s interior. She sighed, put her hands on the wheel, and leaned back. “It’s great,” she said. “Perfect.” She cut her eyes at me. “You didn’t have to do this. You should’ve gotten yourself a truck.”
“You deserve it more than I do,” I said. And she did.
Sera poked her head under my arm. “Start it up,” she said.
When Brianne reached toward the ignition, I knelt. She noticed the ring before she turned the key and looked at me, at the ring, at me. Sera made a girly squeaky noise and threw her hand over her own mouth. Brianne took the key out of the ignition, examined the ring, looked at me again, now with tears forming in her eyes. I’d only seen Brianne cry a handful of times in our years together and never from happiness. Knowing she was truly moved by the ring, I welled up, too.
“I know we always said it didn’t matter if we ever got officially married, but I want to,” I said. “I want to share a name with you. Will you marry me?”
A soft chirp-laugh popped out of her mouth, and she hugged me. “Of course I will.”
She went inside and told her co-workers, showed them the ring, and her boss let her have the rest of the day off. Later that night, we had a celebratory pizza dinner, and after Ryan left and Sera fell asleep, Brianne and I snuck out to the Fit and properly broke it in, like we had the Taurus and the Chevy.
I hadn’t noticed any birds at the Golden Corral, thank God, but of course they were there. Watching. Listening.
The next morning, I found a note on my truck’s windshield that said Congratulations. I crumpled it up and tossed it out the window on my way to work. Although pleased to find it wasn’t for another burial job, I hated being reminded that Luther was always lingering, watching, inspecting. Like some demented puppeteer constantly monitoring the durability of his puppet’s strings.
Brianne and I weren’t regular church goers. We took Sera to Christmas Eve and Easter services at the non-denominational church on 45th Street Esperanza had had her baptized in, but that was it. Brianne still wanted to have the wedding in a church, though. As a kid, she had walked Ryan to the Lutheran church down the street from their apartment for warmth in the winter, air conditioning in the summer, and free lunch the first Sunday of every month. She was grateful for the generosity of Pastor Dietz and the Lutheran congregation and wanted him to marry us, which was fine with me.
After applying for a marriage license at the downtown municipal building, we stopped by the Lutheran church because Brianne wanted me to see the inside and meet Pastor Dietz. She’d already phoned him, and he remembered her and Ryan and was delighted she wanted to get married in the “right way,” in his church.
He was seventy-one-years old, short and fat and bald. He had warm, swollen hands that hinted at high blood pressure, rosacea on his cheeks that hinted he sipped the communion wine at home as well as at church, and soft, welcoming eyes that hinted at a caring heart. He asked us if we had accepted Jesus into our hearts as our Savior and we said “yes.” Had we both been baptized? She had. I hadn’t. Had we ever been married before? I told him about Esperanza. How long had we been living in sin? Ten plus years. Did we have any kids? Brianne explained Sera, and he seemed pleased with our dedication to her, and that she was baptized. He gave us a quick tour of the small sanctuary, which Brianne said hadn’t changed a lick since she’d last been there nearly fifteen years earlier. A line of stained-glass windows with images depicting biblical scenes ran down the left wall, evenly spaced candle holders the brick wall on the right. The strip of carpet between the pews was blood red, the ceiling vaulted, the pulpit oak. We thanked him, told him we’d come back for a mandatory meeting with him the week before the wedding, then we left.
In the Fit on the way home, Brianne was quiet, her eyes serious and unflinching as she drove. When we stopped in front of our duplex, she killed the engine, and keeping her eyes aimed straight ahead, asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
It took a second for me to respond. “Yes. Of course.”
“I think you’re just doing it because you think I want it.”
I didn’t know what to say. I thought I’d showed the proper amount of enthusiasm about the wedding. I’d proposed, agreed to her church, and I thought I’d answered all Pastor Dietz’s questions correctly, happily. I’d even squeezed her hand one solid time, a gesture we referred to as the Fowler Love Squeeze, before we walked into the sanctuary and again as we walked out.
“You seem distant lately,” she said.
I scrunched my brow and shook my head soft and slow, hoping to imply that her statement had confused me.
“And not just since the proposal,” she added. “It’s been going on for a long time.”
“What has?” I asked. My pulse quickened at the thought of her catching on to what I’d been doing. Questioning me about any missteps I may have made.
“You leave sometimes at night and don’t come home until morning. You sleep on the couch sometimes. You’ve been drinking more.” She pushed out a clutched breath. “You just don’t seem fully engaged a lot of the time. With me. With Sera. In there with Pastor Dietz. Even when we were on vacation in D.C. You seem like you want to be somewhere else. With someone else. Like you’re looking around waiting for something to change.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distant lately, but I promise I don’t want to be with anyone else or anywhere else,” I said. “You guys are my life.” I went to my stock lie. “It’s just that ever since Randy…” I almost said “died” but caught myself, swallowed hard. “You know. Work’s been rough. Dan refuses to hire anyone else to help me run things and that puts a lot of added stress on me.” I put my hand on her thigh. “It has nothing to do with you.” She glanced at me. “I swear.”
She seemed to buy it. Whether it was because deep down she wanted to or because I’d lied well enough, I didn’t care. I just wanted the conversation to end. She nodded, pushed out a slow breath, and her eyes softened. “I know your work has been stressful this past year,” she said. “And I know you miss Randy and that his disappearance and that girl’s body freaked you out. And of course I know Dan is a major asshole. But you have to look at the positive. That investment you made is really opening things up for us. We have new opportunities now that we thought would always just be dreams.”
I nodded. She was right. But she didn’t know the cost of those opportunities. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I promise I’ll start trying harder.”
“It’s not tha—” She bit her lip, chewed on what she wanted to say for a moment. “Now that we have the extra income, I think you should seriously think about looking for a different job.”
I shook my head. “I can’t”
“Why not?” Her voice volume rose in frustration. “Why are you so devoted to Dan? He doesn’t give a shit about you.”
“I’m not devoted to him.” I’m devoted to Luther. “It’s a good job, and I’d have to start from scratch if I joined on with some other crew. I’m too old for that.”
“You’re only in your mid-forties. You could move up the ranks on any crew quick. They’d see how much you know right away.”
I didn’t bother responding. There was no point. We’d had this conversation many times before. She’d actually sent my résumé to two other construction companies five or six years back without my knowledge, resulting in huge arguments both times. She wasn’t going to bend and neither was I. Especially now that my old job was tied to my new job.
To our “new opportunities”.
To our lives.
I was changing into my tux when Ryan came into the small room that connected Pastor Dietz’s office to the sanctuary—the room where Dietz and the acolyte robed before Sunday service. Ryan was already in his tux. His hair was slicked back in a tight ponytail, and he’d shaved the scrappy beard he’d attempted to grow. He reeked of cigarette smoke. I figured he’d been outside with Brianne. “How’s she feeling?” I asked. She and Sera had left for Brenda’s to get their hair done before I’d woken up.
“She’s worried.”
I was hoping he would’ve said “good” or “excited.”
“About what? It’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s jumping into. We’ve practically been married for ten years.”
Ryan checked himself in the tall mirror on the wall, adjusted his jacket, then made eye contact with me. He looked nervous. “Don’t tell her I told you this. I swore I wouldn’t, and we both know how long and hard her grudges can run.” I nodded. “She said she’s worried about you. She thinks you might’ve met someone else. Or just don’t love her anymore.”
I shook my head. “Man, I can’t believe she’s bringing that up again with you. We talked about it already, and I told her I’ve just been stressed about work.”
The tension in my voice caused Ryan to put his hands up in a submissive position. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. I told her that. I told her there’s no way you have another girl. I would know. I told her how Dan is expecting way too much from you ever since Randy disappeared, too.” He paused, then turned and examined himself in the mirror again. “But I did tell her you’ve seemed more distant to me, too.”
“What? How?”
“Well, for starters, you’ve been sitting alone in your truck at lunch instead of hanging out with us, and you don’t come out for drinks with the guys after work anymore either.” He glanced down, scanned the floor, looked up. “You haven’t gone to a Sox game with me since early summer. Or come by the apartment to hang out and play Xbox like you sometimes used to.”
“I know…but I…nothing’s what it…whatever.”
“It’s no big deal, though,” he said. “I know all that shit with Randy was disturbing, and all the pressure Dan puts on you is hard to deal with.” He whipped a tiny spray can of breath freshener out of his pocket, spritzed his mouth, and faced me. “Let’s not talk about this today. It’s supposed to be a special day. A happy day.” He popped me in the arm, and I jabbed him back, bringing a smile of approval to his face. “Bri will be fine anyway. She’s just thinking about all that nonsense because that’s what women do on their wedding day whether they’ve known the man ten days or ten years. They question every little fucking thing and freak out a little. Right?”
I gave a flimsy agreement-smile that Ryan took as genuine, but I had a sickening feeling in my gut. I sensed right then and there that a clock had started ticking, counting down to my unraveling, and there was no way to stop it. Brianne and Ryan’s observations were spot on. Their concerns and questions directly on target. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could effectively convince them nothing was wrong and conceal the turmoil stewing inside my heart and mind. I could only take long drives and spend time alone hiding in obscure bars for so long. They would eventually find out. They knew me too well, and I wasn’t a good enough liar.
Ryan’s close-set eyes widened as if he were suddenly struck by a marvelous idea. He flicked his index finger at me. “I’m going to my truck for a second. I’ll be right back.”
I walked over to the mirror to check out my tux. I’d never worn a proper suit much less a tuxedo. It felt as awkward as it looked. Out of place. Fake. Wrong. As I ran my hand over my fresh buzz cut, noticing the number of greys had significantly increased, the door to Pastor Dietz’s office eased open and Luther slid in. He was dressed in a black Guayabera, black slacks, and black shiny shoes, and carried the scent of fresh lavender into the room with him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, jerking my eyes left to right, left to right, as if someone might see him and know right away who or what he was, what are connection was, and all the horrible things we’d done.
“Chill out. I just came to congratulate you and give you this.” He handed me an envelope stuffed with hundreds. “For your honeymoon. Or a nice present for Brianne. Whatever you want.”
“I think you should go before anyone sees you,” I said.
“Don’t worry. No one will see me that I don’t want to.” He chuckled and put his hand on my shoulder. “You sure are high strung today, friend. You want me to remedy that for you? Take the edge off?” He tapped his fingers on my shoulder and winked at me.
I didn’t want him there. I really didn’t. I didn’t want him invading my wedding. But he did. And since he was already there. And since deep down I knew he would always be there, until the day I died. And since I wanted to make sure Brianne saw that I was confident and calm and happy when she walked down the aisle. And since the sickening feeling I had in my gut was inching close to vomit level, I nodded and uttered, “Please.”
Luther moved his hand from my shoulder to my exposed neck and I closed my eyes. “Anything for a friend,” he said.
Like in the Colorado cabin, a warm soothing sensation flowed from his fingers into my skin. My muscles relaxed. My stomach settled. The tight knot of fretful thoughts in my mind untangled, dissolved, disappeared. I sighed and opened my eyes when he removed his hand. He had a satisfied sparkle in his eyes. Like a child who’d pleased his mother. He put his left hand in his pocket and extended his right. “I’m going to get out of here now. Before Ryan comes back. Congratulations.”
I shook his hand. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He slid out the door connected to Pastor Dietz’s office as silent as a ghost, and not five seconds later, the opposite door, the one that led into the sanctuary opened, and Ryan walked in. I could hear the murmur of the waiting crowd as he eased the door shut.
He glanced around the room, sniffing the air. “What’s that flowery smell?”
I sniffed, too, and shrugged. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Smells like…” he sniffed the air again. “Lavender.”
“It’s probably from the flowers in the sanctuary or someone’s perfume.”
“I guess,” he said, and slid his eyes to the envelope in my hand. “Where’d you get that?”
I glanced down at the envelope. I’d forgotten I was holding it. The flap was open, revealing the stack of crisp hundred dollar bills. “From the EnviroTek guys. They all pitched in on a wedding gift.”
He strummed his fingers over the top of the cash. “Looks like enough money to buy a car.”
I scoffed. “It’s only a couple of thousand dollars.”
“I didn’t know any of them were coming.”
“They’re not. They mailed it.”
“To the church?”
“No,” I chuckled lightly. “To my house. I put it in my jacket pocket this morning after I checked the mail before heading up here.” I pointed at my jacket slung over a chair in the corner as though that would validate my story. “I forgot it was there until a second ago when I was checking the jacket pockets for my wallet.” I crossed the room, put the envelope in my jacket pocket, and abruptly changed the subject. “Where’d you go anyway?”
A sneaky grin appeared on his face as he slipped a flask from his inner jacket pocket. “I figured we needed to have a pre-wedding toast. You know, to take the edge off.” He passed me the flask. “Husbands first.”
Take the edge off. Just like Luther had said.
I raised the flask. “To family.” I chugged half the Vodka. It burned my throat and made my eyes water, adding to the comfort Luther had provided.
“To family,” Ryan agreed, and downed the other half.
The wedding was a typical small wedding except the intro and exit music. Rather than classic organ music, Smashing Pumpkins’ Today is the Greatest led Brianne down the aisle, and Tonight, Tonight led us out. Smashing Pumpkins had been her favorite band since her teen years when she’d had a massive crush on Billy Corgin.
All my co-workers from Howe’s came, Dan and his wife included. Brianne’s mom, co-workers, and a group of her friends from high school came as well. Lucy, Jimmy, and Brenda brought Dad, but had to leave before the reception because he was having a bad day and kept cursing at random people who touched him. Pastor Dietz and some of the Lutheran congregation helped set up tables for the reception and treated us like members of their church family.
Sera was the maid of honor. She wore a gorgeous purple dress and had a matching purple flower in her hair that she later told me was Lilac. She’d picked it from Brenda’s backyard. Her radiant smile never faltered. Not even when tears of joy leaked from her eyes at the end of the ceremony.
Ryan was the best man, and unlike me, was seemingly comfortable sporting a tuxedo. He puffed out his chest like a strutting peacock as he waltzed around the reception greeting people and flirting with some of Brianne’s friends. His loud laughter was heard with regularity throughout the evening. No matter where you were, the bathroom, kitchen, out front having a smoke under the elm tree with the watchful blue jays overhead, when you heard the laugh, you knew who it was.
Brianne’s dress wasn’t the grand white mess I’ve seen women where on TV. It was white, but simple and sleek and so perfectly form-fitting I found it hard to keep my eyes off her backside and chest. Although she wasn’t one for dressing up (I could count on two hands how many times I’d seen her in a dress), and although any day of the week I’d prefer her braless and make-up free in sweat pants and a tank with her hair pulled back, she was stunningly beautiful. She smiled with her whole face when her eyes met mine for the first time. I hoped she could tell I wanted to be there, was proud to be there.
