No Body, No Crime

PART FOUR :: Remember When I Pulled Up and said "Get in the Car"?

Pop Quiz: What would you do if your soon-to-be somewhat-distant relative approached you in the middle of Walmart and told you that your life was in danger because, apparently, your fiance had murdered his late wife, even though you'd heard evidence that she might still be alive, and you were next on your fiance's hypothetical murder list?

Answer: Pay for your groceries and leave Walmart

After a polite smile and an awkward exit, I hurriedly paid for my groceries and hurried my butt home. It didn't make sense anymore- although, to be fair, it had barely made any sense to begin with, so perhaps it wasn't all that big of an adjustment. First, Este dies, Robin mentions that she might still be alive, and Bethel tells me I'm next on his murder list. Yep, life had never felt so chaotic.

I drove home, once again in silence. However, this time, instead of sadness and pain preventing me from bopping out to some quality Taylor Swift jams, my mind was spinning too fast to keep up with anything.

That's probably why I hit a stop sign and broke the passenger-side mirror off my car.

Cursing, I pulled over- properly, this time- and snatched the roll of duct tape from my glove box. Momma had taught me to be prepared for anything, and I learned that duct tape could solve half of your problems if you were creative enough. Money could solve the other half, assuming you applied the same creativity principle.

I wasn't far from my house, so I had no problem quickly reattaching my mirror with my almighty duct tape. My sister had done something similar once when she learned to drive. Absolute worst-case scenario, a police officer pulled me over, told me I was off my rocker, and shoved me into a psychiatric hospital for the next three months.

"Could be worse," I muttered, contemplating the potentially unsettling consequences of my distracted driving. At least I wasn't about to get murdered. Hopefully. Probably. I wouldn't die, right?

No, I didn't foresee myself dying quite yet. I still had too many life goals and plans, and I'd recently found a cute idea for decorating mine and Robin's den on Pinterest. I couldn't die yet; the universe would just have to wait its turn.

The mirror was sufficiently patched. I got back into my car and drove to my home along the quiet suburban streets.

I pulled up to the driveway, rolled down the window- flinching slightly as the sharp wind bit my face- and waved at Robin, who was... watering my plants? It was sweet that he was trying to help, but the poor man knew nothing about plants. He couldn't tell you the difference between a snapdragon and a succulent if his life depended on it. Plants were dormant this time of year. They would be flowerless and dead, regardless of whether or not they were adequately hydrated.

"Get in, loser. We're getting ice cream," I called to him.

Robin hurried over to my car and poked his head through the window. "Marjory, in the kindest way possible, it's another freezing November. Why would you think that getting ice cream is a weather-appropriate activity?"

"Because I want ice cream."

"Well, who would I be to argue with that flawless logic?"

He hurried around to the passenger door, smiling like a little kid. The weather didn't matter. Ice cream was a year-round food.

He paused with his hand on the passenger door handle, tilting his head inquisitively. He walked back around to the driver's side door and then laughed.

"Dear God, Marj, what happened to the mirror?"

"I... uh, well, I hit a stop sign."

I could practically see the wheels turning in Robin's head. "Marj... how do you hit a stop sign."

"I was distracted."

"Why?"

"Bethel Hollis cornered me in Walmart."

Robin pursed his lips, obviously not happy with the situation. "She shouldn't have done that," he said.

"Aw, it's fine. She was just curious about the wedding. Not begging for an invitation or anything, but she's friends with the florist, Whitney Starke."

It was evident that Robin wasn't all too happy with my previous interaction with Bethel Hollis, but he seemed willing to let it go. He hurried over to the passenger door, getting in quickly to escape from the cold.

"Roll up your window, Marj. You'll give us hypothermia."

The windows rolled up, and Robin and I headed on a quick afternoon date. The Walmart incident was put out of our minds for the time being.

My momma always said that hindsight was 20/20. And she was right. I don't regret not giving him the whole story, which probably makes me a lousy wife. I regret telling him anything at all. I should've lied and said I had to swerve to avoid a squirrel or something stupid. Maybe, if I hadn't told him anything about my interaction at Walmart, he wouldn't've gotten suspicious. And possibly, if he hadn't gotten suspicious, my life wouldn't be in chaos.