Dishonor Thy Wife (21 page)

BRAD

At the San Francisco Airport, I greet Jayden especially nice,
even though he bumps into me on purpose.

My brother steps back, clenching his fists.

I laugh at his childish antics. “You look like you want to
hit me. Chill out, brother, and admit that the Elvis wedding was a riot. I must
have watched the DVD like nine times.”

“If the wedding ceremony was so funny, why did you hit your
bride, Brad? Did you give Vanessa a black eye before or after the honeymoon?”

“Give me a break. You know how irritating your wife can be singing
in that scratchy voice of hers.” I slap an envelope into his hand. “Proof I
deposited the money just like you asked. I always pay my debts.”

Jayden slips the envelope into his pocket without opening it
to confirm the deposit.

“Ah, you already checked with your bank. Money shouldn’t
come between us, Dr. Tremblay.” Disappointment resonates in my voice because
deep down inside I always wanted a brother and had longed for this to work out
between us.

“You proved to be untrustworthy, Dr. O’Boyle.”

Now he is going to deliver a boring lecture about me firing
Irene and hiring a teenager barely out of high school. I grin, ready with a
retort about juicing up his boring life.

“Vanessa is pregnant with your baby,” he hisses.

I clutch my chest and stagger. I am about to have a heart
attack and Jayden does not come to my aide! He is going to let me die at the
San Francisco airport!

“What do you plan to do about Vanessa? Divorce Ronni and
make your marriage to Vanessa legal?”

“The kid’s not mine,” I snarl and snatch my brother’s travel
documents from his hand. “Don’t worry about Vanessa, dude. Brad is here to fix
everything so you can come back to your humdrum life in Canada.”

Jayden slaps me between the shoulder blades so hard that my chest
caves in. “Call me when the deed is done. Take my advice, tell her the truth.
Get an annulment or you just might be charged with bigamy.”

Did my brother just threaten me?

“Vanessa’s father is a hot shot in Vancouver who would slap
your butt in jail if he found out what you did to his little girl,” he adds. Jayden
spins and marches towards his gate.

I flip a finger at his back and give a diabolical laugh.
Okay, so I am a drama king and like special effects. Ka-pow! I was going to
warn him but ha-ha, let my brother deal with whoever is trying to murder me in
Austin. If Jayden dies, I have a life mapped out in Canada and an assumed name,
Dr. Jayden Tremblay, only, what to do about Vanessa? She is like one of those
bobbleheads you stick to a car dash. Like Jayden, the thought of being married
to her makes me want to scream.

The problem of Vanessa is still unsolved when I unlock the
door to Jayden’s apartment. Thankfully, she has moved out, giving me time to
think.

On Jayden’s nightstand is a picture of
my
daughter
Traci.

Someone has left a nightstand drawer open and thrown a
couple of other photos on the wood floor.

One picture is of Ronni and Jayden at the Texas Doctors’
Ball, making me wonder if my wife is the reason Vanessa has left Jayden. She
must have found the picture hidden in the drawer.

Another picture confirms my theory that Ronni and Traci have
somehow come between Jayden and Vanessa. The picture is of my brother, wife,
and daughter at Sea World in San Antonio. Jayden is holding Traci in his arms and
grinning at Ronni who smiles shyly back at him.

Okay, so now my brother has taken over my family. Creep
wants what I have instead of being happy with what I have given him, a wife of
his own, and a baby on the way.

I punch in Vanessa’s phone number and conjure my kindest
Jayden voice. “I want you back, sweetheart. The pictures you found, well I discovered
a twin brother. Brad is the one in the photo posing with his family.”

“Oh, I thought the child was yours,” she says in a gullible
voice.

“There is only you, Vanessa.”

I hold the phone away from my ear. “I’m coming right over so
we can celebrate!” she sings.

Two wives I can juggle with the experience of a man with a
wife and mistress for six years, but
two
screaming brats?

Think! Think!
An annulment would have been easy but
not to a pregnant woman.

What to do? What to do?

Vanessa’s car drives up and I run into the kitchen and hide.

JAYDEN

At Brad’s office, I was nervous about confessing to Ronni
this evening.

Just blurt the truth out about how you duped her, made a
fool of her, and violated her person and trust in the worst way possible.

I had picked a public place for my mea culpa. She would not
kill me in front of witnesses, especially if she was drunk, wined, and dined.

I cancelled the late afternoon appointments because my stomach
twisted in knots, my old phobia about confrontation. I went to the gym and
pumped especially hard, hoping to wring the anxiety from my tense muscles.

I paused the treadmill and rubbed my eyes, sighing deeply. Last
night I confessed that I was not the man she thought. When Ronni asked me who I
was, instead of telling her the truth, I concocted the oldest lie known to man—if
at a loss for words, say you love her so she’ll go easy on you when she learns you
are a fraud. I had no idea what love meant. The only certainty was that if we
showed up at the restaurant in two different cars, then we could leave
separately if things did not go well.

Brad’s cell phone rang and I answered, “Dr. O’Boyle.”

“Cut the Dr. O’Boyle bullshit, Dr. Tremblay. It’s me, brother.”
Brad sounded in a happier mood than yesterday. “Just wanted you to know that I
got rid of Vanessa for you. You can come home now, Jayden.”

“How did you ever manage so soon?” I squeaked.

 “Just be happy for small favors, old man. Vanessa is out of
your life for good.” Brad laughed. “I should add, your annulled wife,” and he
made a karate chopping sound, “will never bother you again. You can thank me
later. By the way, I am waiting for my plane right now and booked a flight for
you, even paid for the ticket myself. I owe you after all the trouble I put you
through, marrying Vanessa and all. You better get going to the airport so Ronni
doesn’t see us together in Austin.”

“Ronni?” I screeched.

“I’ll text your itinerary. We will rendezvous in San Francisco
for our finale. See you tonight.” Click.

With one phone call, Brad spoiled my intimate dinner with
his wife where I planned to fess up. I did not have a good feeling about
leaving. A vision of Brad slipping his wedding ring from his finger, dropping
the gold band on a plate and showing Ronni how our masquerade began, sent
ripples of anxiety up my spine.

Then I panicked and decided to drive to Brad’s house and
confess the truth to Ronni this instant.

I dialed the house but no one answered, ditto for her cell
phone.

I thought of wandering around the university in the hopes of
bumping into her.

And where exactly is her class, you moron?
The
logical voice in my head pissed me off.

What should my next step be? Allow Brad the opportunity to
patch things up with Ronni? Try to break up my brother’s happy home? Confess to
Ronni before Brad made up with her?

Think. Think. Think. How do I handle this? Just fly back
while Brad is home, ring his doorbell and say, “Hi, Bro. I have some unfinished
business with your wife.”

What if a loving couple answered the door, their arms
wrapped around each other, smooching?

Mostly though, I was more scared of what Brad might do if he
found out about me and his wife. It was better for all if I just flew back to
Canada and stayed there. In the end, I chickened out about confronting Ronni,
as was my signature or MO when it came to dealing with women. I headed towards
the airport, relieved to be avoiding an explosive threesome.

I was again on a flight back to Canada, my doomsday flight.
I sat slumped in first class, imagining Ronni waiting for me at a restaurant,
looking at her watch, her face red with embarrassment.

I munched on airline peanuts practicing what I would have
said. “Hello, Ronni, I’m your ex-husband’s brother. You do not know me, but you
do
know me. We have shared many intimate, loving moments. The sex was
good and the company. We have a lot in common, sort of. Well, Brad for one.”

Yeah, I was creative. I mixed my own
AMF
s on the
plane, a miniature each of rum, tequila, gin, and vodka mixed with a splash of
7-Up in a water bottle. There was no Blue Curacao liqueur on the plane so I made
do with Triple Sec which is a Curacao liqueur only clear in color, nothing a
few drops from a blue fountain pen wouldn’t fix, if you’re drunk enough to not
mind the taste of ink. There was no Sweet and Sour Mix either but a hard sourball
candy shoved in the bottle substituted.

“Adios, Ronni,” I toasted and swallowed my fourth
AMF
,
which became a hallucinogenic. Ronni actually appeared on my lap on the plane.

“I want you to get to know me, the real me, not the
pretender to my brother’s marriage,” I slurred at her.

“I do know the real you,” she moaned and wiggled her butt
against me, pushing her rump into my crotch.

I grabbed her hips, pushing her more tightly against me
until the throbbing became so painful I felt like drilling her on the airplane
seat, regardless of the other passengers.

My fingers slipped beneath her skit. "What do you
like?" I groaned in her ear and kicked off my shoes.

She began to unbuckle my belt, flicking her tongue in my ear
and whispering, “Having out-of-this-world makeup sex on a plane could get us
arrested, Brad.”

The plane hit some turbulence and pouf, Ronni vanished.

A flight attendant, a burly male, handed me my shoe. “Throw
your shoe across the aisle again, and I’ll deck you,” he said, showing me a
hairy fist.

I shoved my chin at him, egging him on to hit me. Even the
imaginary Ronni called me Brad! She probably stomped out of the restaurant by
now, a place where I would have shown her that I was not such a bad guy. But
now...now....
Crap! I should have called her instead of standing her up. Come
on, hit me
, but the flight attendant refused to beat me up. I ordered
another miniature, yelling at him to “Mind your own business. I’m not frigging
drunk!”

Then it hit me with sobriety that surely an annulment must
take awhile. Brad must have pulled a few strings.

Yeah, it happens. I never said that my brother was not
connected.

JAYDEN

Brad seemed genuinely happy to see me. “Let me buy you a
drink,” he offered. “There is a bit of a delay for both our flights.”

I dragged my feet to a bar where we both ordered drinks.

“How did it go with Vanessa? She must not have given you
much trouble,” I said.

“Vanessa is an angel,” he answered.

“How did you manage to get an annulment so fast?”

Brad cleared his throat. “The U.S. Embassy helped pull some
strings for me.”

“I didn’t know the embassy ever got involved in marital
disputes.”

“When was the last time you went to your embassy for help?” he
said, sounding defensive.

“Never.”

“I rest my case. Do not look so glum, you are a single man
again. Let me buy you another drink. Ah, come on, you have time for one more, who
knows when we will see each other again, brother. You’re going home to your
empty house and I’m going home to my loving wife.” He locked his eyes with mine
and I tried hard not to squirm. I looked away first and finished off my drink,
coughing and choking because I drank so fast.

Brad patted me on the back and then rubbed my shoulders. “So
did Ronni ever talk about me?” he said.

“Talk about you? Ronni thought I was you, bro. Why would she
talk about you to me?”

“O-kay,” he said, as in
have it your way
. “Ronni
thought you were her husband the whole time you were sleeping in
my
bed,
didn’t she?”

“
Your
bed has got a loose spring that poked me in the
middle of the night right here.” I rubbed my lower back.

“Really, I’m surprised you didn’t find a more comfortable
bed then to sleep in while you were living in
my
house.” Brad smiled coldly.

“I suppose I could have slept in the guest room,” I mumbled.

“There are two guest rooms.” Brad banged his empty glass on
the table. He stood up to leave. “I’m glad you told me about the loose spring.
I’ll be sure and sleep with
my
wife tonight.”

I spilled my drink, the whiskey splashing across the rim of
the glass.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m sick to death of separate
bedrooms and decided to give it a go with Ronni again. I forgot how good she is
in bed.”

I raised the glass of
AMF
to my lips.

“Your hands are shaking,” he commented.

“Well, I’ve had too much to drink.”

“I wonder why.” He crashed his glass of
AMF
against
my glass. “Have a good flight.” Brad grabbed me by the neck, and kissed my lips.

Yeah, I saw The Godfather movies—sleep with the fishes,
Jayden.

“Hey,” I yelled at his back, “you’re limping.”

He turned and chuckled. “I kept my promise to you and got
kicked for my efforts.” He waved and disappeared through the gate to board his
plane to Austin.

I had no right to be upset. Brad had every right to sleep
with his wife.

With a wet paper towel, I wiped my pale face that stared
back at me from the bathroom mirror.
Better get back to Canada, Jayden. You
have patients to see.

I lay back against the plane seat, closed my eyes, and tried
to sleep, but all I could see was Ronni’s face.