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“Was this your idea?” I have to know.
“Of course.” He lies, which can only mean Beth didn’t tell him it was mine.
“I see.” It’s nice to have reassurance the game you’re playing is going the way you want it to.
“Well,” he says, throwing up his hands. “What do you think?”
“If it keeps us in the black, what do I care?”
“Ah, Tom.” He stands, finally. “You’re always such a good sport.”
I walk Mark to the foyer, where much to my annoyance he pauses. “Now, listen,” he says, his expression turning serious. “I need you to fix this with her.”
“And if I can’t? I don’t kn
ow what they did in there. I don’t know how far they took it…with the reprogramming.”
I’m fishing for answers, but he doesn’t take the bait. “Whatever you did the first time…do it again.”
“It was illicit then. That made it more appealing.”
He shrugs. “So, make it that way again.”
I have no idea what he means.
“Oh and the other reason I came—I need an update. How’s the plan to take care of your wife’s past coming?”
I take a step toward the door. “I’m working on it.”
He smiles and holds my gaze. “Work harder.”
Mark tells me to make it illicit, and so I do. First, I hop on the internet and buy Melanie the car I knew from her browser history she had been eyeing. A Maserati. With her life more or less still on the line, I went with the lease option. I’m all for practicality.
Then, as the church accountant, I set up an expense account in her name, which I plan to call a recruitment fund. Surely, Mark will understand. I’ve seen his wife’s, so I have a healthy understanding what she spends on upkeep. Melanie will need money for a new wardrobe, a personal trainer, and a chef, all things I know Melanie has had her eye on. I assume these are the kinds of things all women have their eye on.
Next, I book us round-trip tickets. I email Mark and tell him he’s right. When you mirror your enemies, doing exactly as they do, they cannot figure out your strategy. This mocks and humiliates them, which causes them to overreact. By essentially holding a mirror up to their psyches, you seduce them with the illusion that you share their values; by mimicking their actions, you teach them a lesson.
I write that I plan to “make it illicit” with a second honeymoon. I explain that Melanie and I will be gone a week. Everything is in order on my end. He can take that to mean whatever he wants.
This leaves just enough time for a quick two-minute shower.
Then I sit back and wait for my bride to come through the door.
When Melanie comes barreling through the door, I’m not at all surprised that she immediately begins packing her bags. She doesn’t know what I know. “What are you doing?”
“I never signed up for this.” I look on as she grabs as much as she can muster from the closet and tosses it all onto the bed. “This is crazy.”
“You look amazing,” I tell her, and she does. She looks more like June than I thought possible. A younger, slimmer, more beautiful version, yes. But a transformation has taken place, and it’s visible.
“I lost our child, and you sent me to…you sent me away!”
“In many cultures,” I say, “women go away when they are menstruating. Historically, it has proven they have been highly successful in their relationships.”
“I wasn’t on my period,” she tells me as she throws her stuff into a bag. “I lost our baby, you fucking asshole.”
I back away and give her some space. “I read anger can be good for grief. It shows you’ve moved into the second stage.”
“You’re insane.”
