Chapter 9
nine
. . .
I made meatloaf.
I texted my husband and finally read all eighty-seven texts he’d sent me on the first night of the zombie.
I may have mixed some tears in with the burger, almonds, lentils, carrots, tomatoes, and fresh basil from the plant above the kitchen sink.
He loved me. He’d written it eighty-seven times.
He was worried about me. He only wanted me to be safe and come home.
I was sobbing as I dug into the mixture with my fingers, squishing and squishing the stuff that reminded me of brains. Maybe it was time to go vegan.
“I brought wine,” my husband said, bending down to kiss my shoulder before I knew he was there and could react appropriately, mainly getting more distance so I didn’t ruin his life.
I sniffed and wiped my eyes, the yellow glove rubbery against my cheek. “You’re home.”
“Are you crying, or is it the onions?” he asked, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me into the curve of his body. I missed this. So much.
“Onions,” I said, pulling away from him so I could scrape dinner into the pans and put it in the oven. I’d made enough for four loaves, you know, to freeze for later. I almost sobbed again, because there would be no later for me.
“You’re early. I thought you’d take some time to get home,” I said, pulling off the gloves and the apron. I wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just jeans and a t-shirt. I’d already packed everything I’d need to take.
“I’m never going to be late when you make meatloaf again.” He smiled and handed me a glass of red wine.
I took it, but didn’t look too closely at it, not when the last time I’d seen someone drink wine, it hadn’t been wine. The Grand Master sucked. Not that I could really blame all of this on him. The Zombie Queen. She sucked worse, or chewed anyway.
“Why don’t we go out on the deck? There’s a beautiful sunset tonight,” he said, inclining his head towards the door.
I walked ahead of him, until we were outside, on the balcony overlooking the greenway. It was very beautiful, with the fall colors catching the last rays of the golden sunshine. It felt like goodbye.
I sipped slowly, standing next to my husband of seventeen years, the man I’d been through so much with: sleepless nights, teething, fevers, and so much happiness.
We’d had more happiness than some people have in a lifetime.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand here with him for much longer, or I’d kiss him and forget about zombies for as long as possible.
“I want a divorce,” I said quickly, then gulped down my wine.
I kept drinking until I’d drained the glass, then I frowned at it.
Was that red wine? It tasted different, more sweet and bitter than the last time I’d drunk wine.
I didn’t drink often. Maybe he’d poisoned it because he'd been possessed by the Zombie Queen.
He took my glass and then leaned over so he could look into my eyes. “I see.” He didn’t look upset. If anything, there was amusement in his eyes.
“I’m serious. I…I want a divorce.”
“Sure. Where are the papers?” He held out a strong, elegant hand, waiting for me to give him what I said I wanted.
I felt suddenly stupid. “I don’t have papers.”
“Oh. Well, you’ll need to serve me papers. I’m not interested in getting a divorce, so you’ll have to do all that paperwork you hate. You’ll have to find a lawyer, hopefully not one connected to me, for the sake of your own interests, and he or she can help you figure out what you want.”
“I don’t want anything. I’m just leaving.”
He raised a brow. “Did you just say that you don’t want anything? Half of everything should go to you. Your years of endless effort should be remunerated. And you don’t want parental rights? You’re ready to walk away from our sons completely?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it while my heart beat erratically.
This wasn’t going how it was supposed to go.
He was supposed to be upset, and then I’d leave.
But how could I say that I didn’t want my sons?
I would never, ever, ever let them think that they weren’t precious to me, that they could be dumped off at a hospital by the person who had carried them in their body for nine months.
Never. I could not do that and I would not do that.
“They aren’t here.”
“They’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, not to mention summer holidays.”
My hands were shaking. “I’ll be working a lot.
I need to find a place to stay, and my job is a lot of hours, odd hours, and I can’t be sure that I’ll be able to…
” I wasn’t breathing right. I couldn’t get enough air.
How could I possibly even think for a moment about not being here for my sons?
Because it would hurt them. Would it? Would it really?
Maybe if I worked really, really hard, I could get the city cleaned up of zombies by Thanksgiving.
I could take a long break, and of course, with my showers and salt soak, not to mention spiced pumpkin everything, pumpkin pie, I could really enjoy them.
Not that I could touch them very much, but if I had a special suit that I wore over my clothes, and washed it or burned it after I gave them hugs, that could work.
“You definitely haven’t thought this through,” he said, studying me and sipping his own dark red wine. He drank it like the Grand Master had, although his eyes were much less creepy, and his face less chiseled and raw looking.
My heart raced and things started spinning. I sank down to the patio floor and leaned my head back on the bars. “I haven’t thought everything through, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I want.”
“It sounds exactly like you don’t know what you want.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “I don’t know what I want. You think that the only thing I’m good for is knitting. Fine. I’m going to find out what I want, and I don’t want any interference from a man.”
“Are you going to date after you leave?”
I blinked at him. How could I ever date again when I already had everything I wanted? He wasn’t perfect, but he really was everything I wanted. “No, of course not. I won’t have time for that while I’m learning how to be self-sufficient.”
“Then you don’t need a divorce. Maybe after you figure out what it is that you want, and have established yourself as an independent woman, you can date me and decide whether or not we’re compatible after all.
It will save so much time, effort, and money, not to mention the boys.
I don’t think they’d be too happy hearing that their parents split as soon as they left. They might feel guilty.”
They really might. “But don’t you want to date?”
“You? Of course. Other women? Not remotely.”
“Other women are much better than me.”
“And other men are much better than me. I’m not interested. Maybe I’ll change my mind at the end of this… is it called separation? Do you want to stay in the house while I move out? That might be simpler.”
“No. I can’t do this. I can’t think that I can come back, and I can’t stay here without you, with your memory on every counter and in every shower.”
He raised a brow. “Every shower?” He considered for a moment then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. You have been spending a lot of time in the shower lately, alone, so that would be a factor you must consider.”
He was mocking me. There was no way that last bit hadn’t been total mockery. “I’m leaving. I’m taking my suitcase and I’m moving in with Gloria, or staying at the hotel, or something until I can find a nice place.”
“Stay at a nice hotel. We can afford it. I worked very hard for a long time so that you would be comfortable. Don’t make me worry about you. I’d prefer if you stayed here where it’s more secure.”
“You’re the one who is so crazy about security.”
“For my family, not myself. If something does happen to me, you will be well-taken care of financially. I took care of all the paperwork in case of my death.”
I bared my teeth at him before I realized what I was doing then took a step back instead of biting him, which was my irrational instinct.
I wanted to bite him like the Grand Master had bitten me.
I licked my lips and tried to channel calm instead of thinking about the horrific and enraging possibility of him dying.
“I’m leaving. You can take the meatloaf out of the oven.
It should be enough to last you a few weeks. ”
“All right. If you need me, call. I’ll keep my phone with me until I hear that you’ve found somewhere to stay and that you’re safe.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I can’t help it.” He gently brushed my hair away from my cheek.
“You have taught me more about love, sacrifice, and joy than I ever expected to know. I’m not going anywhere.
I’m going to sit around eating meatloaf and missing you.
It’s almost like you left me because I don’t have a job, but we still have enough money.
You can pay for a house right now, in cash, if it’s under a million. ”
I swallowed. “I’m not taking any more money from you.”
He sighed heavily. “Right. Okay. But you’re keeping your car, and I’m going to keep paying insurance on it, and you’re going to stay safe.
Please? Lucy, please stay safe. Also, your gas card, credit cards, they’re for you to use.
If you ever get bored with things, come home.
I don’t care what you’ve tried, drugs, prostitution, murder, it doesn’t change anything.
” Had anyone ever said anything so sweet?
It was the safest SUV you could buy, with all the extra safety features. “If it will make you feel better.”
“It will.”
“Until I get the divorce papers.”
“And afterwards. You aren’t alone in this world. Whether you want to be married to me or not, we’ll always be connected through our children. We will be on good terms. I will respect you no matter what happens.”
I stared into those soft brown eyes and almost leaned into that strong chest and closed my eyes. I was so tired. “Okay.”
“And it smells like the meatloaf is done. Let’s go eat so you aren’t hungry after your big exit.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll go get plates. You sit down and enjoy the sunset.”
I sat feeling the most bewildering conflict of misery and confusion with a relief that I really shouldn’t feel at his adamant refusal to take charge of our divorce.
There was a group of moms that I’d used to get together with, like Marj and Jenny for a book club and lunches, but none of them felt like people I could talk to about this.
Would my husband be terribly embarrassed?
He’d lost his job, and his wife, and his kid was lighting people on fire.
This would be a rough patch for him, but he’d get through it, as long as he wasn’t devoured by zombies or vampires.
I considered leaping over the balcony and running into the bushes, but that wouldn’t help. He wanted to feel like I was being reasonable, so he wouldn’t have to worry about me. I was leaving him. He shouldn’t have to worry about me, but he did anyway.
“Here you are.” He handed me a plate and another glass of wine then pulled up a chair beside me and kicked back, relaxing with me like we hadn’t done for ages.
I shouldn’t have drunk that second glass of wine or eaten the meatloaf, but I was starving, and he’d given me a lot, much more than I usually served myself, but he’d given himself healthy portions as well.
He loved my meatloaf. I have no idea why, since it was the most boring thing imaginable.
It was the first thing I’d ever made for him.
In those days, I’d had no idea how to cook, so I’d started simple.
I’d forgotten the salt, and overcooked the edges while the middle was maybe on the raw side, but he’d just eaten and eaten until there was nothing left, then looked at me like I was the most amazing cook in the world.
His hand brushed mine and my pinkie wrapped around his. After we’d eaten, and the sky had faded of color, and the first stars were twinkling on the horizon, he stretched out and brushed my foot. “If I’m not wrong, on your current hygiene schedule, it’s time for you to take a bath.”
“Oh.” It was time for my Epson salt soak. “I really should.” I felt so comfortable, content, peaceful, but I wouldn’t once the zombies started coming. I got up and took his plate.
“Let me do the dishes. You take your soak,” he said, taking the plates and glasses then winking at me and heading inside, leaving me on the balcony, sighing after him.
I shook off the mood and headed to my bath. I fell asleep in the tub and woke up in cold water somewhere in the middle of the night.
Feeling like a sneak thief, I packed up my suitcase and headed out, barely not taking a detour to the bedroom to tell him goodbye for the last time, and maybe a few more things.
I was thoroughly salty, therefore safe, but no.
I couldn’t tell him goodbye again. Instead, I got into my car and drove to the gate.
“Mrs. Darnell, where are you going this time of night?” Tim asked cheerfully.
“To the airport. I’m going to see some European sites and stop by the school. I miss my boys too much.”
He smiled brightly. “I miss them too. Wat always used to have the best jokes.” He laughed and something about that laugh seemed almost delicious. Were his pudgy cheeks looking rosy and juicy this evening?
I slammed on the gas, barely missing the gate as it opened. That had been very weird. I suppose that made some sense that the antidote that gave me abilities would also give me some cravings for fresh blood. I was definitely looking forward to losing ties to the Grand Master.
Maybe something would happen, something strange and magical, and I’d be free to be with Hazen again.
Weirder things had to have happened. The Grand Master studied things like this all the time.
Maybe he would be interested enough to make removing zombie markings a priority before Hazen and I died of hopefully natural causes.