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Second Honeymoon

  Mark Souza

  Copyright 2011 by Mark Souza

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  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Story

  Second Honeymoon Tidbits

  About the Author

  Upcoming Titles

  Find Me Online

  “Second Honeymoon” Excerpt

  Second Honeymoon

  Jack Duncan grumbled as he cinched his robe. The knocks at his door as people stopped to offer condolences were becoming tedious. A stream of familiar faces had filed into his home to deliver an awkward moment and a story about how wonderful Marianne had been, and to say how much she’d be missed. He’d had his fill of pity and Marianne stories by the end of the first day. Privacy is what he wanted most – that and the insurance payout.

  A stranger stood at the door smiling. The man looked unremarkable: average height, middle aged with a slight paunch, meaty face, curly salt and pepper hair. He wore a navy suit, red tie, well shined black shoes, and carried a matching briefcase. He looked like a salesman.

  After opening the door a crack, Jack asked, “Do I know you?”

  The man’s dimples deepened. “Mr. Duncan, I’m Tova Burke with Gemini Insurance. I’m visiting to discuss your wife’s policy with us. May we speak?”

  Jack noticed the blue panel van at the curb with GEMINI painted across the side in large gold letters. He glanced inside his house then at Burke. “Can I get dressed first?”

  “Of course.”

  Jack closed the door just as Burke started to raise a finger. Perhaps it was a precursor to the question, “May I wait inside?” Better to just shut the door in the man’s face than have to answer “no” and appear even ruder. He rushed to the master bedroom at the back of the house. While he pulled clothes from the dresser, he admired the form in his bed. Half covered by a sheet, Abby Meacham lay sprawled out spread-eagle taking up most of the king-size mattress. Her hair sprayed a flaxen arc across the pillow. Her proud buttocks pressed high against 700-thread-count, Egyptian cotton. And what a magnificent backside it was. A tiny grin played on Jack’s lips before he lightly smacked Abby’s rear. She jerked and moaned.

  “Get up sleepy head,” Jack said, “The insurance man is here.”

  “Wha’?”

  “No time for questions, darling. It’s payday. It won’t look good if he finds you here. You need to skidaddle.”

  Abby sat up and stretched. “What time is it?”

  “Just get dressed. We can talk later.” Jack pulled on a pair of jeans and buttoned them closed. He topped his ensemble off with a polo shirt.

  “You’re getting your money – so soon?”

  “Maybe.” Jack found Abby’s clothes in a heap on the far side of the bed and tossed them in her lap. “I need you out of here before I let him in. Slip out the back and either hide in the garage, or use the back alley to walk home.”

  “I don’t like all this sneaking around,” Abby said as she slipped into her clothes.

  “Don’t worry. Once I cash the check and sell this dump, we can go somewhere nice and start over. No more sneaking around. I promise.”

  “Vegas?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Jack waited until he heard the soft click of the back door before he ushered in the insurance agent. His time on the front porch had wilted Burke’s dimples. Burke took a seat on the couch and left enough room for Jack to join him. He set his briefcase down on the coffee table and released the latches. From it, he pulled a stack of documents and placed them down.

  “I’m so sorry to hear of your loss. What happened, if I might be so bold?”

  “No, it’s okay,” Jack said. The story, his subdued tone, stern expression, clenched teeth; all affectations he’d rehearsed and mastered well before Marianne’s death. It all had to be right each time he told it, whether to first responders, the police, friends, relatives, or now to the insurance adjuster. He couldn’t afford to get it wrong and raise suspicions.

  “We were camping. She went down to the river for a dip while I set up camp. The current was strong. I warned her, but she thought she was up to it. Search and Rescue found her body a quarter mile downstream pinned under a tree.”

  “Tragic, truly tragic,” Burke said. Burke’s expression mimicked the sorrow Jack had worked so hard to perfect. Jack wondered if Burke, too, had rehearsed. He must have. It was practically a requirement of his job.

  “Perhaps I can brighten your day just a little,” Burke said.

  “You have a check for me?”

  Burke stiffened and his mouth hung open. Jack could tell he had caught him off guard. Perhaps the question was a bit crass and callous.

  “Check?” Burke sputtered, “There’s been some kind of misunderstanding. There is no check.”

  At first what Burke said didn’t register. Then the words ‘no check’ burned into Jack’s consciousness like molten lead. “Excuse me for being so blunt, Mr. Burke, but I’ve been through a lot over the last few weeks. The misunderstanding is on your end, I assure you. I bought life insurance through your company covering both me and my wife. It pays out two-million dollars should one of us die. I know because we both signed it, and I’m the one who wrote the premium checks to your company every month.”

  Burke frantically shuffled through the pile of documents. “Your wife changed the terms of the policy. Here it is.” Burke handed Jack a page from the pile. “She opted for our clone option instead of a cash payout. See, that’s her signature and it’s dated just weeks before her death.”

  Jack took the page Burke offered. The writing was Marianne’s. He felt the way he had the first time he’d been punched in the face: dazed, unable to react, his brain locked in a numb tingle, defenseless.

  “A clone?” he finally sputtered.

  Burke responded to Jack’s shock with concern. “You didn’t know? It’s a beautiful gesture, really. No amount of money can replace a loved one, don’t you agree?.”

  “That’s not legal, is it, one spouse changing the terms of a policy without consulting the other?”

  “It is. See, she only changed the terms with regard to the payout on herself. The terms covering you are unchanged, two-million dollars.

  “No, if she had tried to change the terms regarding your coverage, it wouldn’t have been permitted. It sets up a situation that might create incentive for one spouse to take rather lamentable actions against the other, if you know what I mean.”

  “Is she…,” Jack hesitated. He fumbled to straighten his thoughts before locking his eyes on Burke’s. “You have to understand, I never thought I’d see her again. This is a bit overwhelming.”

  Burke nodded. “I understand. Gemini realizes the magnitude of this kind of event. That’s the reason for my visit. I have training as a counselor to help with the transition.”

  Jack gazed at the wall as if he could see through it all the way to the street. “Is she in your van?”

  Burke’s face broke into an understanding grin. “No, no, that would be a bit much for one day, don’t you think? We’ll drop her by tomorrow. That’ll give you a little time to adjust.”

  The news did little to relieve Jack’s apprehension. His brow remained knotted while he absently kneaded his palms across his thighs. “Will she be exactly the same?”

  “Exactly, in fa
ct she’ll be the same person.”

  “And she’ll remember everything?”

  “Of course. What is a person without their memories? That’s not the way Gemini operates. Believe me when I say you won’t know the difference.”

  “Everything, including her death?”

  “Ah, I see your point. No, she won’t remember that. No need to have that kind of trauma in her head. It changes a person and usually not for the better. That’s why we erase the last day. She gets to skip it like it never happened.” Burke shot Jack a serious look. “Now here’s where it gets a little sticky. She won’t have any idea what’s happened. But, of course, all her friends and family will. You need to call them and tell them what’s happening, that she’s coming back, and warn them not to discuss her death around her. Then at some point you need to tell her she drowned, so if it comes up in conversation, she’s not caught off guard. We find the truth is the best thing. Just be vague about it and don’t go into too much detail or she might become fearful or fixated on her demise. I’ve seen it happen before. Just tell her we were able to bring her back, and that it’s no different than if mouth to mouth had been successful.”

  Burke stood and offered Jack his card. “I can be reached at that number day or night. Call if you have any problems or questions. It’s what I’m here for. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, and I’ll have company with me.”

  After Burke left, Jack peeked through a crack in the blinds and watched the van pull away. He rushed out the back door into the garage hoping Abby had decided to hang around. She sat atop a sack of potting soil in a wheelbarrow swinging her legs restlessly. She grinned when she heard Jack crack the door. “Sure took his time, didn’t he. I did my nails while you two yammered and they’re dry now. What’s the good word?”

  “There is no good word. There won’t be a payout.”

  “I thought you said it all went to plan, no evidence, no witnesses.”

  “It did. Everything was perfect except for one thing.” Jack felt his rage surge. This time he didn’t need to stifle it the way he had in front of Burke. His hands found the nearest thing that wasn’t bolted down, a hammer. He flung it at the wall and hit the window instead. Glass exploded outward and shards tinkled onto the grass outside.

  Abby flinched, eyes wide with alarm. “What’s the matter?”

  “The bitch changed the policy without telling me. I don’t get any money, not one cent. I get a clone instead. I get the bitch back. It’s like it was all for nothing. Fuck!”

  Abby pressed her body into Jack’s and stroked his back. “It’s only a setback,” she said. “We just need to come up with another way, something involving fire or acid so she can’t be cloned.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. “Don’t you get it? We can’t. How’s it going to look to have her die twice? They’d be all over us. We’d never get away with it. She’s beaten us, plain and simple. It’s checkmate, baby. Game over.”

  Abby looked up at him, her green eyes glowing hot. “It’s not over. We’re bright people. We should be able to come up with something. I’m not letting you quit on me. Suppose the clone doesn’t work out? What’s the insurance company supposed to do then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Abby smiled, “Well let’s read your policy and find out.”

  He nodded. For the first time since Burke entered his house, Jack felt at ease.

  “Abby Meacham, I like the way your mind works.”

  The two of them pored over the document Burke had left on the coffee table, a ream of gobblety-gook and legalese. Abby’s focus was keen as a heron’s. It was a side of her Jack had never seen. As her eyes followed her finger down the page, she murmured, “No, no, no… .”

  When her finger came to a stop, she announced, “Here it is, redress for defective clone.” Her eyes scanned back and forth over the page. “It says you’re entitled to half-a-mil if something goes wrong. It lists a large assortment of problems they cover. Most require concurrence from their psychiatrists. Good luck getting that. But get this, near term suicide is one of the covered conditions. It must be common if it’s written into the standard policy language.”

  “Half-a-mil?” Jack muttered. “From two to a half, she screwed me but good.”

  “Something is better than nothing,” Abby assured. “Keep in mind that it wasn’t entirely about the money.”

  Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. Abby didn’t know how wrong she was. It was still all about the money. Abby was merely a side benefit, one that could be discarded at any time if she became annoying or stale.

  The knock at the door came promptly at ten in the morning. Jack was waiting at the window and saw them walk up. Tova Burke stood on the porch wearing the same suit as the day before. Next to him stood Jack’s wife, Marianne — act two, dressed in a plain white smock and slippers. Her eyes flitted between Burke and the door. She seemed anxious. Jack closed his eyes and sighed.

  She looked exactly the same. She stood a few inches taller than Burke, her wavy brunette hair cropped close to reveal a long elegant neck and straight delicate features. She was a fine looking woman. That was never the issue. It was all of her habits and foibles, the way she thought, the unimaginative and predictable pattern of their lives, the dreams that had died at her hands along the way. He forced a smile onto his face before he opened the door.

  Jack gave a quick nod to Burke and leaned in to hug his wife. He felt her stiffen at his touch before her arms embraced him. She turned her head and press her face to his chest, a move calculated to look endearing while preventing Jack from kissing her. It was the same old Marianne.

  “It’s good to have you back, honey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

  Marianne stepped into the house and took in her surroundings. A small smile played on her lips. “I feel better now. It’s a bit unnerving waking up in an unfamiliar place. What happened? No one will talk to me.”

  Jack looked to Burke who had followed Marianne inside. Burke shook his head.

  “Perhaps we should sit down and talk,” Burke offered. Jack sat next to his wife on the couch and took her hand. Burke sat across from them in an overstuffed chair.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  Marianne’s brow furrowed as she tried to recall. “Uh, we were planning a trip to the State Park for yesterday. I had packed the car so it would be ready to go in the morning. Then I woke up in that white room. I know something happened in between, but no one will tell me what.”

  Burke rocked gently and strummed his fingers on his knees while he considered a response. He spoke slowly and succinctly, almost as if speaking to a child. “You had an accident,” he said, “but we were able to resuscitate you. That’s the event that’s missing.”

  Marianne shot Burke a confused look and shifted her gaze to Jack. “What kind of accident?”

  “The details are unimportant at this time,” Burke said. “What’s important is that you pick up with your life. We will eventually provide you with the details later if you’re still interested.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Two weeks.”

  Marianne’s mouth dropped. “Two weeks? Was I in a coma?”

  Jack stood and made a come hither motion to Burke. “We’ll be right back, honey. Just give us a second.”

  Jack led Burke into the kitchen. “This isn’t going to work,” Jack whispered. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s very controlling. She’s the kind of person who needs to know and understand everything. Not knowing will drive her nuts.”

  Burke rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’ve had a lot of experience at this. Trust me, it’s the best way.”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Trust me,” Burke repeated. “Set up a family get-together or a party with friends so she can start reconnecting. That’s the best thing right now. I’ll call and stop by from time to time to see how things are going. I’ll be monitoring your progress. The fir
st tick mark on Marianne’s recovery plan will be this party, understand?”

  Jack nodded.

  Tova Burke was a pebble in Jack’s shoe with his constant calls and unscheduled visits, but a necessary cog in his plan. Whenever Burke called, Jack used the opportunity to report on Marianne’s deepening depression. And later when Marianne committed suicide, Burke’s reports would serve as evidence showing the warning signs were all present.

  Marianne’s friends and family were more than willing to set up a party for her at the Four Seasons ballroom. Marianne looked stunning in her black Halston and glowed in the attention. The evening was warm. Marianne seemed happy to hold court on the terrace with the rush of the city below and the lights of skyscrapers above serving as manmade stars in the dark city sky.

  Jack behaved like a cutting horse drifting among the guests, getting them alone, and directing them to his wife. He spoke to them in hushed tones along the way. “She’s been terribly depressed lately. I think talking to you might lift her spirits.”

  The night had been a success in every respect in Jack’s book. Attendance had been good. The seeds of his wife’s demise had been planted. Everyone had a good time. And even Marianne’s family, who had practically shunned him at her funeral, complimented him on the party and his steadfastness in trying to help his wife readjust.

  The buoyant demeanor Marianne had displayed for her guests evaporated during the drive home. She seemed distracted, her eyes fixed ahead on the windshield, her face expressionless. It was as if Jack wasn’t even in the car with her. She finally spoke when he turned for the First Avenue Bridge. “Pull over, please. I need some air.”

  Jack swung the car into the Scenic Viewpoint parking lot and parked next to the stone wall guarding the bluff. Marianne got out and walked to the railing. She started up the sidewalk along the rising slope of the bridge. The vision of her in heels, evening gown billowing behind her in the breeze, juxtaposed against the dirty metal bridge girders was surreal. Jack followed. She stopped midway and bent over the rail. She gazed at the dark water below. She straightened as he approached and smiled. “Lovely view don’t you think?” she said.