Flowers in a Dumpster (29 page)

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Authors: Mark Allan Gunnells

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BOOK: Flowers in a Dumpster
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“Rich?” Ness said. She wanted to speak sharply, with anger and authority, but the word came out in a stifled croak. Richard didn’t hear her. He continued to read the words on the screen, cigarette smoldering.

Ness drew a quivering breath and said, “Richard!”

His feet dropped off the desk and he swung around, his face bearing an expression that was one-half surprise and one-half anger. The cigarette bobbed in his mouth.

“Ness,” he said, lifting his voice above the music. “You’re home already?”

“Of course,” Ness said. “It’s past six.”

“What?”

“Jesus, Richard, turn that racket down so we can talk!”

Richard reached over and dialed down the volume on the stereo. The music faded away like an echo of thunder. Setting his cigarette down in an ashtray, Richard said, “There.”

They regarded one another in a long stretch of silence. Ness didn’t like the expectation she saw in Richard’s eyes. He knew that she had come here to confront him, and there was almost a childlike glee in his expression. He was
waiting
for her to say something.

“You’re smoking?”

Richard picked up the cigarette and tapped the ashes into the ashtray. “Yep,” he said.

“I thought you quit.”

“I did, but only because you wanted me to.”

“That’s not true,” Ness said.

“It is,” Richard replied. “Hell, Ness, I’ve done a lot of things in my life because you wanted me to do them. I quit smoking, moved out here to the suburbs, got a job at the
Gazette
. . . ”

Ness raised her eyebrows. She had never suggested that Richard write obituaries for the
Gazette
. He found that job himself and gone out of his way to obtain it. He thought it was going to be a lead-in to something better, a way to get a full-time writing position.

“So,” Richard went on, drawing contentedly on his cigarette, “I decided to reconsider a few things. I figured it was time I did things for myself. Like this, for example.” He waggled the cigarette at her and smiled.

“Richard, I never said . . . when you decided to get the job at the
Gazette
, it wasn’t me who . . . ”

She realized that the conversation distracted her. She hadn’t come here to defend herself against Richard’s accusations. She came here to confront him about his behavior. Gritting her teeth, she struggled to regain focus. She crossed the room and took up a spot in front of her husband. “Richard, what the hell is going on with you?”

“Going on?” Richard asked, exhaling plumes of smoke. “I don’t know what—”

“Damn it Richard, put that cigarette out and talk to me! And turn this
off
!” She reached around her husband and switched the stereo off completely. The music evaporated, leaving behind the strained silence of the room.

With slow, deliberate motions, Rich butted out his cigarette. Then, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, he said, “You’ve obviously got something to say, so say it.”

Ness began speaking quickly, before she could think about what she was saying and change her mind. “I
do
have something to say. You aren’t acting like yourself at all. Smoking. Drinking. The late nights. The moods you get in. I don’t even feel like I know who you are anymore. You barely have time for me and when you do, you scare me.”

“What?” Richard said. “That’s crazy.”

“You’re acting crazy. You have to see it.”

“I don’t,” Richard said. His eyes flickered.

“You spend every waking hour in here at the computer. I never see you anymore.”

“I’m working,” Richard said.

“Really? I never see you working. Everything you do for the
Gazette
is done late or not at all. And when you—”

“I’m
writing
!” Richard shouted. Ness jumped. “
That’s
my work! Not that fucking bullshit I do for the
Gazette
. Jesus Christ, that was a distraction, a fucking measly paycheck. If you ever thought of that as my work then you’re the crazy one, Ness. Not me!”

Tears rose in her eyes. She tried to choke them back. “That’s what I mean,” she gasped. “You’re ignoring your work for your writing and—”

Richard came out of his chair quickly. Ness backpedaled, terrified for a single moment that her husband was going to strike her. Instead he slammed a hand on the desk and grabbed for a pack of cigarettes.

“My writing is my work,” he said. “Why don’t you get that? You don’t understand. The
Gazette
was nothing.
Nothing!
I quit that fucking job a week ago. Christ, if it wasn’t for Mace I wouldn’t have anyone who understood.”

“You quit your job?”

Richard shook a cigarette out of the package. “I did.” He pinched the cigarette between his lips. “That job was a dead weight on me, Ness. Don’t you understand that? It was holding me back. Now I can focus on what’s important. It’s like Mace says, nothing can get in my way. I have to keep my eyes on what matters. My writing. I sold another story today, did you know that?”

Ness blinked. “No, but Richard, please, you quit? Without talking to me?”

“You see?” Richard said, lighting the cigarette and exhaling a curl of smoke. “I told you I sold a story and all you can do is harp about that job. No congratulations for the story. Nothing.”

“There are bigger things going on right now,” Ness said.

“For me, my writing is the big thing. I’ve made more money with my writing in the past month than I have before. And right now I’m working on a novel and it’s going to be—”

Before she could stop herself, Ness said, “It’s ugly! It’s vile and disgusting, that’s what it is.” As the words spilled out of her, her strength collapsed. Tears coursed down her cheeks.

“What?” Richard said.

Ness didn’t reply. She closed her hands over her face and sobbed. She felt lost, adrift, and longing for someone to help her.

Richard grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. “You read my novel without asking?”

Ness lowered her hands and stared into her husband’s face. It wasn’t the Richard she knew. She didn’t recognize this man at all. The man she knew should have taken her into his arms to comfort her, not accuse her.

“I read it,” Ness said. “Because you shut me out. You didn’t ask me to read your stuff anymore, because of Mace.”

Richard lowered his hands. “What?”

“Mace!” Ness screamed. “Your precious goddamn Mace. That’s all I hear. Mace this and Mace that! You practically worship a man you’ve never even met.”

Richard spun on a heel and sat back down at his desk. For a few moments he stared at the computer screen. Then, carefully saving his work, he turned to face his wife. “Well, don’t worry. That’s going to change.”

“What is?”

“I’m going to meet Mace. He and I were discussing it via email. I actually said I wanted to wait—to make sure. Maybe talk to you. But I don’t think I need to wait. I’m going to invite him for a visit. He said he’d be glad to come.”

“Here?”

“Of course here,” Richard snorted. “Where the fuck else would he go?”

“But you don’t even
know
him. You know nothing about him! You can’t invite a stranger to our house.”

Richard blew a stream of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. “He isn’t a stranger.”

Ness swallowed tightly. She watched while Richard set his cigarette aside and picked up the glass of whiskey. He took a lingering sip.

“God, Richard,” she whispered. “What’s happening?”

Richard set his drink aside. “Things are changing around here. I’ve put up with you stifling me long enough. I’m a writer, Ness. An artist. I create. It’s what I do, and it’s what I’m
going
to do. I’m going to write my novel and it’s going to sell. Big! Before you know it, you’ll be asking
me
to let you quit your job.”

“Richard, please listen to me.”

“I’m through listening,” Richard said. “Mace is coming here for a visit. End of story. And I’m going to be writing full-time. No more shitty
Gazette
gigs. Big things are coming, babe. This is all for the best. Trust me.”

Ness drew a hitching breath. “I don’t know if I can.”

Richard rolled his shoulders in a slow shrug. “That’s up to you,” he said. He turned back to his computer and added, “Close the door on your way out, okay? I’ve got to get back to work.”

Ness opened her mouth to speak, to utter something, a single word that might repair whatever damage had been done, but no sound came out. A moment later Richard turned the stereo on and dialed up the volume.

Ness backed out of the office, something cold lodged in her chest. She drew the door closed behind her.

***

TO: [email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT: Invitation

Hey Mace, I wanted to send you a quick message to extend an invitation. You are formally invited to Casa de Small (or the Small House, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, ha-ha). I was going to pass the idea by the wife tonight, but I decided to make a unilateral decision. Don’t worry, though, Ness is fine with it. She’s a bit cold to the idea of having someone she’s never met before in the house, but I know she’ll feel differently as soon as I introduce the two of you.

And there’s even more good news, Mace! I dumped that shitty
Gazette
job and I’m going to focus on my writing full-time. That’s something Ness was REALLY going to throw a bitch-fit about, but I didn’t let her. I put my foot down, as you’ve suggested (better than having to break it off in her ass, huh?). She has to realize that I’m the man in this marriage and I call the shots. I know she’ll come around. Right now these changes are all really overwhelming for her—hell, they’re overwhelming for me—but I feel great about
Subtle Changes
and I know it’s going to give me the break I deserve. When I sign a six-figure book deal, she’ll be living the high life and she’ll thank me for taking the reins (and she’s going to thank you for being the driving force behind me).

Speaking of that . . . how is the writing going on your end? You’re a helluva great writer—better than I am—so I expect you and I will be co-chairing a few professional writing conferences in the future (not to mentioning book signings, right?). I’m going to send you the new chapters right away, but you have to send me something. I’m jonesing for a hit of Mace Hunter right about now!

Anyhow, I should go and make sure the wife is calmed down. Maybe I’ll take the evening off, reassure her. Give her a lay . . . that kind of thing (wink-wink). Get back to me soon, Mace!

Rich

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT: Thanks for the invite

Richard,

Thanks so much for the invitation. I will be packing my bags and scheduling my life so I can get out to see you as soon as possible. I’m glad you started to approach things in a more aggressive fashion. First with your writing (the new chapters on
Subtle Changes
blew me out of the fucking water, my man! I didn’t know whether to be turned on or terrified. You have a real knack for pure, visceral horror), and now with your personal and professional life. I think you’re right about Ness: she’s going to be reluctant to accept the changes at first, as anyone would be. She’d gotten too used to running the show. It’s time you put her in her place.

As for me, well, I placed a couple of short stories, but nothing as good as what you’ve done. I feel as if you’ve got me beat, Rich. The student has become the teacher and all of that, right? Actually, reading your novel has inspired me to possibly write a novel of my own, but now I’ll be coming to you to get some advice.

Let me know when you want me to come out there. My life is pretty open, so you say the word and I’ll be there. Don’t worry about preparing anything special on my behalf, either. I think we’re enough alike that I can get by at your place. All I need is a place to lay my head (and a nice bottle of whiskey to fog the same fucking head).

I’m really excited about meeting you. Nervous, too, you know? I feel as if I have to make my ‘real’ first impression. I know that we’ve talked online over and over again, but this feels like a big leap forward. A revelation, you know? Maybe I’m being dramatic.

Talk to you soon.

Mace

***

Vanessa was waiting in the computer room when Richard awoke the next night.

After a stop at the bathroom, he came into the office then halted abruptly when he saw Ness standing by the desk. She stood rigidly, her facial muscles pulled taut. As her husband stared at her, she felt her body tremble but she forced herself to be still.

“What are you doing in here?” Richard asked.

“I was using the computer.”

“What for?” Rich said, and the suspicion dripped from his words like sap.

“I was doing a little research online.”


Ten Ways to be an even Bigger Bitch
?”

Vanessa snorted, not exactly a laugh but in the same family. “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”

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