Clouded Rainbow (2 page)

Roger sat down and answered his phone with zest. “Hi, honey. How’s my little dynamite?”

“Hi, dear. Just checking to see how your day’s going,” she responded with a smile.

“Not too bad. Just finishing up some end-of-the-month spreadsheets. Hey, I just spoke with Dr. Kim.”

“Oh, did he mention—”

“Yeah. He mentioned it again. I think I’ll pass on the physical,” he responded firmly.

“Ah, you’re paranoid. Just get a check-up. Everyone goes regularly after thirty.”

“I know, but something about the whole thing just makes me uneasy. If I ever end up in the hospital, make sure you smuggle me out,” he chuckled.

“Will you be home on time today?”

Roger smiled, happy to announce that he was just about to walk out the door.

“Yes, dear. Things are pretty quiet around here today. Don’t worry. We’ll make it this time. I promise.”

“I hope so,” she replied.

Lois finished the conversation with an update on her daily writing progress. She was writing a novel about a love triangle. Lois free-lanced since college writing restaurant reviews, children’s short stories, and film critiques. Her focus for the past year, however, was on the novel. She was nearly finished revising the second draft.

“See you at five, dear. I love you,” Roger replied.

“I love you too,” Lois responded.

Roger hung up and sat for a moment in his placid office. He glanced at his watch and saw it was four thirty.

Another day down
, he thought.

Roger stood up and put his papers in his briefcase. He grabbed something hidden inside his desk, pushed his chair in, and then left his office. As Roger shut the door, he left the room in complete silence. But something on his desk was definitely not right. The beta fish was swimming more slowly. Its usually quick movements had turned sluggish. It moved inch by inch, and then suddenly stopped. The fish held its pose, but then turned belly up, as life drained from the creature.

2

Roger commanded his SUV on the ride home. He couldn’t drive anything else as he craved sitting up high and the feeling of protection the brawny machine yielded. Traffic was dense, which was typical for this time of day. As he drove, he glanced down at a picture of him and his wife that he kept on the dashboard. Whenever he checked his speed, staring back at him was Lois on one of their annual excursions to San Francisco. Roger updated the picture after each year’s trip to keep the memories fresh.

Up ahead was the Pleasant Place Bridge, a tremendous structure leading in and out of the downtown city. It was relatively close to the water—only about twenty feet above. The bridge was the only way to reach his house, except for another one some fifteen miles on the east side of the city. Sometimes the bridge was backed up, but it was undoubtedly quicker to wait it out than to battle urban traffic on the distant detour.

All at once, pellets of hail pelted the roof of the SUV. Roger flinched for a second as the noise caught him off guard.

That’s odd, they said it was supposed to be nice this evening.

As he questioned the weathermen, rain consumed his vehicle. He reached for the windshield wiper knob and turned it just in time. Roger began to cross the bridge but noticed something odd. The water below violently swayed and chopped in a chaotic pattern. It was as if it were alive and yelling, using the wild waves as its voice. Roger took another glimpse of the picture on his dashboard and thought,
I’ll be home soon.

Ten minutes later, the door to Roger’s home opened. He ran in from the torrential rain, ducking under his umbrella. Roger checked his briefcase and coat. He hated getting his suits wet because he never heard the end of it from Lois, who was the one who had to get them cleaned and pressed. His solution was stockpiling umbrellas and hiding them in all sorts of places to hopefully stumble upon during a downpour. Actually, it was Lois’ suggestion, but Roger was glad for her willingness to help his memory.

“Honey, I’m home,” he yelled with a grin.

“I’m in the kitchen, dear,” she replied.

Roger left his soiled umbrella on a carpeted area to protect the hardwood floors. Polishing the part in his hair, he walked into the kitchen to greet his wife. As he entered the large, open space, he looked for her to his right and swept his eyes until finally resting on her familiar frame. Roger rarely looked for his wife like this, but today was different. Her flowing brown hair, tall curvy figure, and radiating skin captivated him like the first time he had watched her glide through that coffee shop. Like fine wine resting gently in the protection of a cellar, her feminine qualities seemed to get even more enticing as time gracefully aged them. Roger walked behind her and noticed she was trimming a flower in her hand. He nuzzled his head into the supple skin of her neck as her familiar scent filled his nostrils with bliss. It caused him to savor the moment, a moment he wished could last forever. Lois showed him the beautiful floral arrangement she had been creating on the kitchen counter. Daisies, tulips, and lilacs filled a glass vase offering a colorful mixture of vegetation. She turned from his advancement and touched her soft lips against his, which gave him a taste of the night to come. In the background, the pouring rain outside the kitchen window caught his attention.

“Wow, the rain seems to be even worse now,” he remarked with a squint to his eyes.

“I know. I was outside before in the sun picking these. I was chatting with our neighbor while she was hanging clothes.”

Roger looked at the neighbor’s clothes flapping in the rain. “Her clothes should be dry soon,” he sarcastically replied.

“I didn’t even know it was supposed to rain today,” she responded.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Roger said.

“What about the lightning? Don’t shower when it rains.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, we better leave by six fifteen if we want to make it on time. You never know with traffic,” Lois lectured.

He pointed to the clock on the wall. It read twenty-five minutes after five.

“See, I made it home before five thirty today. We should be right on time,” Roger rebutted.

“You’re on the ball, mister,” Lois said as she put the finishing touches on the floral arrangement.

“Tonight I will wine, dine, and shine you,” he wryly responded. Then, he added a wink.

“You better make sure that shower’s a cold one.”

Roger leaned in and kissed her tenderly, the way a man did who was infatuated with his sweetheart.

“I love you so, so much, Lois,” he whispered as he looked deep into her brown eyes.

“Don’t overdo it because it’s our—”

He squeezed her tighter. Lois melted.

“I love you more,” Lois whispered.

Moments later, Roger hung his head low under the showerhead. The hot water invigorated his senses and rejuvenated his face from the long day at work. Thoughts of the approaching night with his wife floated through his mind.

Roger stepped out into the steamy bathroom, which resembled a sauna at the country club. He dabbed his renewed skin with a towel, and then stood in front of the clouded mirror. He gave the glass a swipe with his hand, which revealed his masculine body. He secretly enjoyed studying his robust frame, even if it sounded vain. Roger analyzed his pectoral muscles camouflaged with just the right amount of hair. He followed a droplet of water with his eyes, and his senses, as it slid chaotically down his abdomen and detoured down his right leg.

Roger towel dried his body and quickly shaved his five o’clock shadow, removing a few years of perceived age. Lois always enjoyed touching his face after a shave and petting the smooth, hairless skin of his cheek.

When Roger stepped out from the bathroom into their master bedroom, Lois’ stunning figure in a matching set of black bra and panties provoked him.

“Mmmm,” he mouthed. She giggled and gave him a little shake of the hips, which only further ignited the animal inside him.

“Hurry up and get dressed,” she playfully instructed.

Roger dressed on his side of the room. When they bought the house, the colossal master bedroom immediately drew them in and drove the couple to shell out the ten percent of the half-million dollar asking price.

Roger fitted himself with a vintage black Hugo Boss 1960-styled suit complemented by a pair of polished leather dress shoes, size eleven. Underneath he wore a tailored dress shirt with a French collar and cuff links. Roger only bought tailored shirts as he hated the excessive material that always fluffed out from the pants. Nothing beat the conforming fabric that accented his perfectly maintained thirty-four inch waist. While Roger put the final additions on his black & white patterned tie, Lois applied lipstick and dabbed perfume on strategic areas of her body.

“Did you talk to your sister today?” Roger asked.

“Yeah, she was happy we sent her the card,” Lois replied.

Immediately, a knot tightened in Roger’s belly. “Oh, that’s right!”

Lois shook her head and frowned. “I knew you’d forget. I bought a card at the store on Monday when I picked up those steaks we had for dinner.”

“I would have remembered. Today is only Wednesday,” Roger replied in an attempt to cover his forgetfulness, but he only dug himself deeper into a hole of mortification.

“Yeah and today is Carol’s birthday. She wouldn’t have received the card if I hadn’t sent it yesterday.”

Her response puzzled him. Roger had a horrible time remembering birthdays, which obviously wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. He probably messed this up year after year, and a similar conversation likely occurred this time last year—but, of course, he couldn’t remember it!

“I thought tomorrow was her birthday, the twenty third?”

“No, her birthday is the twenty second. Today. Wednesday. My mom’s was the twenty third.”

Before Roger could fire some brain neurons, the phone blared. Lois answered it. It was Carol, the elusive birthday girl. She was a woman most men would only look at once in public. She was two years older than Lois and had some of the same features, but not enough to warrant a man’s second look. The one big difference between the sisters was one of emotion. While Lois was head strong, independent, and educated, Carol was more emotional and conservative. She would cry at weddings and wouldn’t mind showing it. Nevertheless, Carol enjoyed playing big sister; she called Lois just about every day to check in. Lois didn’t mind; she loved Carol. Lois still felt like the little third grader protected by her sister, the shielding fifth grader.

“Oh. Hi, Carol. Roger and I were just getting ready for our date,” Lois said cheerfully.

“How romantic. I wish Robert would take notes,” Carol replied with a smile on her face. She was preparing an appetizer for dinner, a green salad for her and her husband, Robert, who was an overworked tax accountant.

“Hi, Carol. Happy Birthday!” Roger yelled with an exaggerated smile. Lois shook her head.

“Oh, tell him thanks for remembering. Again, I loved the card you guys sent.”

“I’ll be
sure
to tell him,” Lois replied sarcastically.

“Well, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to see if you were still going because of the bad weather. They say it’s one of the worst storms of the season. Just came from nowhere,” Carol gingerly explained.