My Favorite Wife Part Two by joann r romei |
I almost choked. This was real drama, and more exciting than last weeks episode of Deadly Women. The one where the wife shot her husband in the ass with his own rifle. Surprisingly, the husband survived. I'll bet his Levis never fit the same way again, and no-one ever mentioned the words half assed in front of him again.
I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rise, I swallowed then asked, "Did she... kill him?" My sister -in -law said, "No. She stabbed him in the leg." She turned to the left. " Can someone pass the salad." "My goodness." I said, and wondered how she can be eating at a time like this. But then again my salad dressing is amazing. I was relieved that George wasn't seriously injured or worse, dead. Yet, I was hoping Michelle had been a bit more creative with the knife. If she had carved her initials in script across his forehead, I would have been impressed. She was so crafty. I once saw her crochet a link bracelet with a pice of dental floss. It was original and smelled minty fresh. Somehow I was disappointed. Michelle and George were like distant cousins to us. My favorite show will somehow seem boring to me because I do not know the victims personally. Not to mention they attended every backyard barbecue I hosted. If they divorced who can I count on to bring the cole slaw on the Fourth of July. My sister -in-law shrugged. "You know their marriage was always rocky." "Yes, like the Grand Canyon." I looked at the faces around the table. Everyone seemed preoccupied with stuffing their faces, than what Michelle had done to George. What was wrong with all of them? "It's a Flushing Queens thing." my husband said. He winked at his brother, who nodded. Together they shared an ominous laugh. I ping- ponged my head between the two of them. Apparently my late mother-in-law did not share any stabbing stories with me. Along with the wife beaters, alcoholic mother's and philandering husbands, there were more sinister events that happened on that little block than she told me about. Just like she hid her recipe for porcini sauce from me, I was furious at her for not telling me what really went on in her neighborhood. This would no doubt consume me for the week. I would not be able to function. I had to know what led her to committing such an act with the man she'd shared vows, children and a retirement plan with. Sitting on the edge of the Queen Ann chair, like Nancy Grace, I needed the details, a personal interview, and most of all, the reason. Michelle never displayed any hostile behavior to her husband or anyone for that matter. She was the last one I'd gamble on being unstable, she fed the squirrels and fostered pitbulls for crying out loud. I chewed my thumbnail and created a theory as to what happened. Michelle had slaved all day preparing a roast, top A grade beef perhaps, from the butcher. George probably began to criticize the way she was carving it, or cooked it, or something like that. She'd finally had enough of and plunged the knife in his thigh to shut him up. Or maybe she quietly snuck up to him and stabbed him for a comment he said to her years ago just for the hell of it? I wondered if it would it be inappropriate for me to casually call her and say, " Hello, How are you? There is a rumor going around you stabbed your hubby. You must have been having a bad day. Nothing to be ashamed about. Lord knows we have all had them. Ha ha." I announced. "We are having dessert in an hour." Then excused myself. I went into the bathroom with my cell phone and dialed Michelle's number. My heart beat as loud as ever. Someone I knew committed a crime. It rang several times before I heard her small voice answer," Hello." The sound of her voice statled me. Suddenly this wasn't entertaining anymore. This was real. And If she did do it, then there were some serious consequences to pay. I blurted,"Michelle, I heard what happened to George." There was a pause, then deep guttural sobbing. She went on to tell me that George began terrorizing, verbally abusing, and beating her. She called the police. He then marched into the den, pulled out an antique knife and stabbed himself in the leg. When the police arrived, he stated that he and his wife were arguing, and she stabbed him. They arrested Michelle in front of her two children. And to make matters worse, he told her she'd have to pay for the cleaning and repair the antique knife. This was better than the entire last season of Deadly Sins, because it had a twist. I almost cried because, this wasn't anything like my obsession with Deadly Women. This was men behaving badly. And I knew all about that. Those shows were featured on prime time T.V., with two hour specials hosted by top reporters in expensive tailored suits. And I could not help wondering, When will women get prime time listing? I told her not to worry. I'd learned a lot from crime shows. Forensics would be able to determine by the cut and blood drippings, if the wounds were self inflicted or not. As for her children.....I don't think they will recover from witnessing Mom being dragged away in handcuffs. My heart went out to them. I brightened, because this was an opportunity for me to get involved in a crime "Listen Michelle, I want to help you. I can watch the children, lend you some money for the attorney, and even offer our guest room if you need a place to stay." She said she may need a place for a few days, and promised to call back in the morning. I smiled and I was glad to be such a good friend. We hung up and a thought occurred to me. Everyone knows there are two sides to every story. I had not heard George's. As I made my way back into the kitchen to brew a pot of expresso for cannoli. I thought it really wasn't my business at all. There was no need to press Michelle about the particulars. I dismissed those thoughts and said, Who knows, this may be fun in a way. Like a sleepover party, we can eat popcorn and watch Killer Beauties together. But before I got too excited about Michelle's company, I made a mental note to change the sheets in the guest room, set out the new hand towels... And hide all the knives.
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