The sun beamed down from a cloudless Florida sky and seemed as if it targeted Hal specifically.
His brow began to bead with sweat as he clopped his way down his driveway to grab the daily
newspaper drop off and the mail. He sat on his front porch daily, waiting on the USPS workers arrival
and departure. He’d been doing this same routine for well over a decade, spanning several variations
postmen, and even one circled back to his route. He could taste last nights regrets on his breath as he
bent down to pick up the paper first and then next to his flamingo themed mailbox. It wasn’t over the
top like his neighbors. Nothing too flashy, just a flamingo wing that moved from the up position when
the mail was delivered and down when it was retrieved. Simple, fitting, effective.
Strolling his way back up the driveway and past his brand new ‘86 Chevy Celebrity, which
prompted a small love tap on the front end as he approached his front steps. Outside was his blushing
bride, Sasha. In every sense of the phrase, she was ‘living the dream,’ never worked a day in her life,
never had to ask for a thing, and was given a weekly allowance of $700. He tossed the newspaper on
the round glass table that complimented the porch superbly. One thing Hal would always encourage
Sasha to do since they had first met was to embrace her stylish soul. She could walk into a thrift shop
with $20 and walk out looking like Princess Diana. It just clicked with her, she just got it. He hadn’t
gotten to the point where he was comfortable with her styling him, but he felt it wasn’t too far off. It
was still the 80’s after all. He had to hang on to one semblance of his masculinity.
With that being said, he was just as much in the lane of living the dream as she was. Twelve
years her elder was only the beginning of a long list of how she’d make him feel like a winner in life.
The way she’d listen intently to things he was passionate about, even if she didn’t have an interest in
was only second to her looks. Admittedly, this was a vain way to live but he didn’t care how others
seen it. That didn’t matter. What did matter was how he saw things and how she took them and they
never antagonized an argument one between them. He always assumed they operated under an
unspoken agreement. He provided the life and she provided the leisure. Truthfully, calling what she
brought into his life ‘leisure’ was an unfair assessment. It was more than just that, she brought style,
fun and adventure. Her innocence was unmatched to him and honestly was cute. Her lack of
understanding of how the world worked was a given, she lived life on easy mode the whole time. He
may have been the only one in her life to not fault her for it.
Who would expect a blonde bombshell such as Sasha to understand the inner workings of the
US financial system or credit debt? She was raised in privilege, closets packed to the doors with
Versace and Ralph Lauren. First names and last names were her thing and she’d never even had a
thought about anything else touching her skin. The palm trees that reached for the sun and hung their
leaves like heads of children in detention above them provided enough shade for it to actually feel
cool for a second. The gulf wind didn’t hurt either.
Reaching for a handkerchief from his back pocket to dot his head, he watched as Sasha spun
the headline of the paper into reading view. She picked it up and placed it on the lap of her white
dress and read the leading story of the day to her husband.
“Ooh! The Challenger is launching this evening, do you wanna go?!” It was that kind of
excitement and adventure that she made a staple of his life for the last three years that further
cemented the idea that he had made the correct decision with her. It was a long standing belief of his
that people put more thought into their next job rather the person they’d be spending the rest of their
lives with. Strangers and colleagues alike would never buy the idea that he put more thought into it
than, ‘wow she is stunning and wants to be with me,’ but he truly did. He took every aspect of her into
consideration and at the end of it all, decided that she was worth the headaches that came along with
her. Granted, they were minimal at worst, but still a headache nonetheless. Overspending wasn’t as
much of an issue when you were upper class, especially in July of 1986. That was her only real crime
against him, if it could even be classified as such.
“Yeah, we could. We missed it last time. Maybe we can go see it land down too, how’s that
sound? I think it’s due back in a week or so. Something like that.”
Sasha’s face lit up, which was Hal’s favorite thing in the world and it wasn’t close. Her blonde
bangs danced around her small forehead from a combination of her excitement and the swift breeze
entering from the open end of their patio. It was more of a villa than a full out home, but it worked for
where they were in life. He was only in his mid 30’s, 34 to be exact and had already lapped nearly all
of his friends and colleagues in contrast. Just as everything else in this world, there were two sides to
a story, and sometimes three. Every marriage had it’s secrets and this one was no different. Behind
the facade of a happy wife who detested nearly everything about the man who stood in front of her.
His aging face was no longer cute to her. His thinning hair and even worse hairline wasn’t even the
main reason she fell out of love of with him. It was more about him not allowing her to be her own
woman.
Sure, he let her buy what she wanted and handle all of the housework in which she no doubt
found solace in, but it was not the life she anticipated when she first moved in at 19. All of the things
that Hal thought Sasha enjoyed and appreciated about him actually disgusted her, and she was tired
of acting like they didn’t. His undying need of control, which she didn’t even think he was self aware
enough to notice, was gripping her throat like a noose. Each day felt like her she was inching the stool
a bit further away from her. His drinking had gotten worse, which she could not fathom how he didn’t
notice. Maybe he didn’t want to. Laying next to him was a chore, smelling that rotten whiskey on his
breath nightly.
She was young and cared about her body. She didn’t treat hers like a temple or anything of the
sort, but she tried to make conscious decisions about what she put into it. Except the cigarettes, but
who wasn’t smoking those in the 80s? The entire country was like an airport bar. Even if you weren’t a
smoker, you were by default. Just hanging out with your friends would make you part of the club for
the night, whether you wanted to take the oath or not. One thing Hal taught her that she’d never
forget as long as she lived was to never to take action without a plan. He had a whole outline before
he proposed to her. She didn’t have one when she said, ‘yes,’ but she had one now, when she had
finally said, ‘no more.’
A plan was required to get out of it as she never felt comfortable enough to talk to him about it
one on one. It wasn’t that the relationship itself was abusive, but she knew just how much he fancied
her and didn’t want to break him. Killing him would be easier on her long term. Besides, it wasn’t like
she’d be the one pulling the trigger. That’s the role her new boyfriend assumed when he got involved
with this whole mess of a situation. She knew that he wouldn’t turn down her puppy dog eyes and
girlish excitement. Anything she suggested he was game for and today was no different.
Hal nodded at her as he stepped inside. She heard ruffling around and the sounds of various
items being tossed around. She sat on the porch for a minute or so, allowing her to feel the wave of
sadness and despair she’d have to act out later this evening. She wanted to do something special for
him before he was tossed into the ocean to be a hearty meal for some hungry shark down there, or
whatever else may be lurking. She took a deep breath and went over the plan once more in her head.
They’d get to the beach and watch the shuttle take off, she’d seduce him (which she was batting a
thousand at,) Alan would pull up, do the deed and they’d run off with the money and live happily
ever after. She was too inexperienced in the real world to realize that the odds of them both pulling
this off was negative zero, but she had love and faith to guide her.
She rose to her feet and swung the door open and watched as her husband was holding a
photograph of Hal and his mom from when he was 7 years old. She slowly sat next to him and put his
arm on his shoulder and said softly, “oh honey, you’ll see her again some day.” Hal knew she meant it
in a warm way, and ultimately she was right. One day he would reunite with his dear mother and it
would be forever. He hugged his wife and wiped a tear from running down his face, apologizing for his
moment of weakness in front of her. She knew exactly what was going through his mind, “not very
manly of you, Hal.” She hugged him back and told him to go start the car and telling him that she’d
get the rest of the things together. The least she could do is offer up some grace in what would prove
to be one of their final meaningful moments together.
He did as instructed and stepped out the door carrying a suitcase and picnic basket. She took
one last look at the place she ever called her own, taking it all in. The floral greens on the walls
accented the white tables spread throughout the house. She walked down the short hallway and
dialed Alan’s number, giving him the same instructions she gave Hal. She had two grown men wrapped
around her finger and she knew it. It was exhilarating, to be honest. She stepped into their bedroom
and grabbed a couple of blankets and walked out the door, approaching his prized possession, the
1986 Chevy Celebrity.
She swung the passenger door open, tossing the blankets in the back seat and slammed the
door shut and towards a future she was certain of. The car started without a hitch, and down the road
they went. Only one of them knew the other wasn’t making the drive back, and he was absolutely
clueless about it. Just as she intended.
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