Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. “I was going to get your father’s ring sized. So you can wear it.”

He clenched his teeth, fighting back the rising anger. He wasn’t simply pissed off at Jane. He was mad at his father for giving him a ring that didn’t fit. At himself for lying to Jane. At the drugs for making him so weak.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said in a subdued tone.

“What question?”

She stared into his soul. “Are you doing drugs?”

“Only to manage my back pain. It’s no big deal.” He snatched his hand away. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you? There’s no prescription label on the bottle. Where did you get it?”

“From work. We don’t need prescriptions—merely someone to okay it.”

She gave him a doubtful look.

“Look, I’ll stop taking anything except ibuprofen. I promise.”

“So you’ll get rid of this?”

He took a deep breath and prepared for his biggest lie. “I’m not an addict, Jane. I don’t need this. It was a quick fix. A temporary fix.”

He walked over to the kitchen, opened the cupboard beneath the sink and tossed the box in the garbage can. “See? Gone.”

Jane stood and made a beeline for him, her hands shaking as she reached to touch his face. “I was so worried, Marcus. I thought… well, you know what I thought.”

He smiled, then kissed her lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

In the early morning, he had rummaged through the garbage until he found the box. After wiping it down, he hid it behind some tools in the garage.

Now it was in his brother’s footlocker.

It called to him. Use me. You’ll feel so good. You’ll be free. No more pain.

He took a long swig of coffee. It was cold.

During the dinner break, he pulled Leo aside. “I need to go to a meeting.”

Leo patted his arm and nodded. “We’ll go together.”

Carol entered the break room, and they moved away from each other.

“You two whispering secrets over there?” Carol asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Leo said with a grin.

The woman let out a dramatic sigh. “There are a lot of things I’d like to know, Leonardo. Like why your wife lets you out in public wearing corduroys. Didn’t you know that went out in the ’80s?”

Marcus laughed. “She’s right about that, my friend.” He’d teased Leo about his cords for the past few months, but Leo liked to be different.

“What are you two—the fashion police?” Leo waved a hand in the air. “You two know nothing about fashion. Everything comes back eventually.”

“So you’re saying you’re ahead of the times?” Marcus asked.

All three started laughing. Well, if you could call Carol’s “ snort, snort” a laugh.

Footsteps.

“Shit!” Leo muttered. “It’s probably Titanic.”

They erased all signs of laughter from their faces the second Shipley rounded the corner. He headed for the coffeepot without saying a word to any of them.

With a small wave to Carol, Marcus headed back to his desk. Leo was right behind him.

“The man has a radar for anything remotely like fun,” Marcus said.

“Maybe he’s bugged the break room.”

“Your inner mobster is showing again, Leo.”

The phone rang and they went back to work.

The early evening crept by with fewer than normal calls. Marcus handled a store fire and one suspicious call that turned out to be a crank call by a couple of bored teens. The police were on the way to their home, and Marcus could only imagine the parents’ reactions when they discovered what their sweet little boys had been up to. The officers would give them a warning. Maybe the parents would ground the boys. Who knew in today’s age of parenting?

He wondered if Ryan would’ve been so mischievous had he lived. Marcus had missed out on time with his son. Work had gotten in the way at first. And then the drugs. One thing he could always say: he had never used around Ryan. Usually he snuck out into the garage late at night. Or right before his shift. Not too responsible.

But he’d hidden that box where no one would find it. Especially Ryan.

Stop it! Don’t think about that damn box. He clenched his fists. Focus!

The report swam in front of him. He blinked. Then he double-checked the facts, recorded the date and signed his name.

He rose from the chair, grabbed the form and headed to the copy room, where he made a copy of the report. Back at his desk, he shoved the copy into a folder in his briefcase. He’d be damned if he’d allow Shipley to set him up again.

Of course, he had no proof his supervisor had changed the dates on the other forms, but that didn’t matter. Who else would have done it? Leo? Carol? Hell, even with her pinched expression and disapproving eyes, Carol was professional. He couldn’t say the same about Pete Shipley.

I’ve got my eye on you, Shipley. Make a fool of me once, shame on you. Make a fool of me twice and you’ll regret it.

It was almost seven o’clock by the time she pulled out of Edmonton and veered onto the highway heading toward Cadomin.

The kids pouted in the backseat. Ella was tired of the long wait, and Colton was upset because Rebecca refused to leave the house until he’d completed the last page of homework. Since math wasn’t his strong suit, it took longer than either of them had thought. Then he’d insisted on bringing his hockey stick and duffel bag with all his gear, except for skates, which she’d made him leave behind.

He held the stick across his lap, while the bag lay wedged between his feet. “Stop kicking my stick, Ella.”

“Mommy, Colton’s being mean,” Ella said.

“You’re such a baby,” Colton snapped.

“Colton!” Rebecca admonished.

From the back seat a small voice said, “Mommy, am I being a baby?”

“No, honey. Why don’t you have a nap?”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Want to read my Kindle? I downloaded some books for you.”

“All right.”

Rebecca kept one hand on the steering wheel while she rummaged around in her purse on the passenger seat. “Here.” She held the eReader behind her seat and released it when she felt Ella grab hold. “There’s a night light if it gets too dark. Colton can show you how to turn—”

“How long until we get there, Mom?” Colton interrupted.

“Not long. We’ll be there before you know it.”

With her mouth firmly set and both hands clenching the steering wheel, Rebecca concentrated on the road ahead. Every now and then she flexed her fingers, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that she’d forgotten something.

She hated night driving, especially when the highway was busy or it was raining. Tonight it was both.

She turned on the radio. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she was relieved when she saw Ella’s eyes drift shut. Colton was playing with his iPod. Probably Angry Birds.

Oh, to be an innocent child with no worries other than which game to play.

She longed for a time when she could relax and enjoy her children, instead of working long shifts and shipping them off to a sitter. Kelly often babysat for her when she worked the later shifts. At least she had that. But being a single parent wasn’t an easy feat.

She tried to focus on their family vacation. Though it hadn’t started out that way, she was now enjoying the thought of sharing her adventures in Cadomin with her kids. It might be their last truly happy time together for a while.

Because when we get back, I have to tell them about the divorce.