"I understand that you had a meeting with my wife, yes...you already told me that. Can you understand that I have no idea where she is?"
Ron Schuyler couldn't believe the idiocy of the woman on the telephone. He told her that Mavis wasn't home. He told her that Mavis would return her call. He told her that he didn't know where Mavis was or when she'd return. He'd practically told her what they'd had for dinner that night and still he couldn't get her off the phone. Didn't anyone remember what manners were? It was bad enough that this woman had called so late in the evening but now she refused to hang up the damn phone.
"Yes. Yes, I'll tell her. Yes, I can tell that you think it's important. I have to run. Good-bye." Ron hung up with a small slam. Mavis really needed to stop volunteering for so many stupid committees. It seemed like every telephone call they'd gotten over the past few weeks had been about the upcoming Policemen's Retirement Ball, Mavis's latest venture to promote goodwill and harmony in the town of Schuyler Square.
Ron returned to his scotch and soda and took a long, slow, fortifying sip. Where was Mavis, anyway? He hadn't seen her all day and she hadn't appeared at dinner. Roseanne didn't know where she was and neither did Brad or Tyler or Tiffany. Ron wasn't worried; he knew Mavis could take care of herself. But it was a little strange that she hadn't come home yet.
Ron nursed his drink as he thought about his wife. Things hadn’t been good
between the two of them for a long time but lately their marriage had fallen
into the realm of ridiculous. Really, what was the point of the two of them
continuing with their charade? Even if they had to split up all their assets neither of them was ever going to wind up wiping tables at the local Burger King. The longer Ron stayed with Mavis, the more pointless everything seemed.
Tomorrow. I’ll tell
Mavis tomorrow that the time has finally come for us to call it quits.
Mavis might be shocked but she’d probably see fast enough
that it would be for the best. Who knew? Maybe Mavis would find someone new. And maybe Ron would be able to connect with someone old.
Someone like Veronica.
As he polished off his scotch, Ron admitted to himself that
Veronica was the reason behind his sudden desire to be single again. Seeing her
after so many years was having an odd effect on him. He felt younger, almost as
if the past 30 years had never happened.
Not that his life hadn’t been fantastic—there was a lot to be said for
being the wealthiest and most powerful guy in town—but the years had also been somewhat …shallow. Ron
could hardly believe it but he was getting tired of shallow. He figured he had
maybe 25 years left and it would be nice if those years had a little substance
to them. Substance he just might be able to find with Veronica Channing.
The question was: would she be interested in finding the
same thing with him?
Ron looked at the clock on the mantle one last time. Almost midnight. Unless his wife appeared within the next five minutes, Ron knew that he was going to be too tired and too scotch imbued to have a decent conversation with her.
Where the hell was Mavis?
Where the hell was Mavis?
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