Peter Jensen - The blackmailed wife

"Good morning, Mrs. Morrow," Pete, the grocer said beaming. "My, don't we look pretty and fresh today."

"Thank you Pete," Ann blushed slightly. It had been a long time since he had complimented her.

"It's a mighty fine day," he said, "and maybe a little tiny bit of special too," he added with a twinkle. "Seems I detect a little rainbow curving over your head."

"Seems you're right, Pete," she answered. "You seem to read me, pardon the old expression, like a book. Are you psychic by any chance?"

"Naw, nuthin' like that, Mrs. Morrow, just been in this Navy town a long time and can spot your disease a mile away. A look like that can only mean two things, either HCH or PFT."

"HCH or PFT! What on earth can those be?" Ann laughed.

"Hubby comin' home, or pregnant first time," Pete quipped philosophically, "and I know yours can't be PFT, Dave's been away too long."

"Why you're marvelous, Pete!" Ann clapped her hands together in surprised amusement. "I just received his cable this morning. He'll be here in ten more days. I just can't believe it," she said excitedly, glad to have someone else share in her happiness.

"I'm glad Mrs. Morrow! He's a mighty fine boy! I don't think I've ever seen two people so happy together as you two were before he left. My wife used to say she had never seen two people so made for each other. She'll be happy to hear he's made it through. I sometimes think she worries as much as the wives do."

"What's all this laughin' I hear out here?" A small, round-faced Irish woman of about fifty-five was coming out of the back of the store.

"Hello, Mrs. Leary," Ann said shyly. She had been trying to avoid Mrs. Leary who could sometimes be too blunt. Ann could sense she knew something was wrong.

"Well, hello, Ann," Mrs. Leary said. "We haven't seen you for awhile. Where have you been, child?"

"Well," Ann stuttered, not knowing really what excuse to use, "I-I haven't been feeling too well."

"Poppycock," the old woman snorted, "you've been drinking too much of that rotten whiskey. That's what's wrong. I've seen it happen a thousand times in this town. Husband goes away to sea and the wife gets to frettin' about his not coming home and the next thing you know – she's on the bottle. Happens to all the women."

"Now, Mary, you just stop that," Pete cut in. "Let the poor girl alone!"

"You don't tell me to shut up, Peter Leary," the old woman snapped at him. "I ain't sayin' anything Ann don't know – she's like a daughter to me they all are here – besides, I heard you say Dave was comin' home – she'll be alright now."

Mrs. Leary came over and put her arm warmly around Ann, who seemed on the verge of tears.

"Don't you take what I'm sayin' to heart, child. It's just the truth and what I mean is, don't feel bad about it now. It happens to all of us – Lord, I know! – Pete was in the Navy for thirty years before we opened this store. He would have stayed in forty if I hadn't made him leave. I was downright alcoholic when he was away but when he came home, everything was fine. It's those that don't snap out of it and feel guilty when their man comes home that I worry about. The way you look today tells me you'll make it. Don't be ashamed of a few drinks you had when he was gone, honey, that's what it takes sometimes to keep a woman whose worryin' about her man from becoming a bloomin' maniac."

"Thank you, Mrs. Leary," was all Ann could say. "I guess you know what I've been through."

"Of course I do, honey!" the old woman said softly. "When your man gets home just act like nothing happened and take up just where you left off."

Ann pondered these thoughts on the way home and decided Mrs. Leary was right. Ann hadn't changed in her love for Dave and she was still the same person but it wasn't as simple as Mr. Leary thought – not just a case of giving up drinking. It was breaking with Julia and her crowd. She would call as soon as she got home and tell her about Dave's coming home and make her keep her promise to give Ann those pictures to destroy.

It had all seemed so simple this morning. Julia had promised faithfully she would give Ann the pictures if Ann helped her while Dave was gone. But, then, Julia had promised before, and had always had some excuse to delay it. But this time she simply had to give them back. Ann vowed she would make her live up to her promise this time – she had to… she just had to…

Ann listened dejectedly to the ringing on the other end of the line. It had been ringing for about ten minutes this time. It was the fifth time she had tried to call since arriving home four or five hours ago. It was nearly dark outside and Julia still didn't answer. The longer she waited, the more worried Ann became.

She went to the kitchen cabinet and reluctantly got down a three-quarter full bottle of Scotch. She had promised herself this morning that there would be no more of this – but she was so nervous now from the waiting that she just had to have something to soothe her frayed nerves. She poured half a glass, put the bottle back up in the shelf and returned to the living room.

Though it was now dark outside, she didn't bother to turn on the light. The streetlight in front of the house gave her enough light to move around in without falling over the furniture. Somehow, she didn't feel like facing the brightness just this moment. She had to come to an understanding with Julia on the phone before she wanted to see anything again. She picked up the phone by the couch and dialed again – she had done this so often, she could do it in the dark without a mistake. She let it ring for what seemed an almost eternity – no answer.

Damn it, she muttered under her breath as she took a long drink from the straight Scotch in her glass and felt the soothing warm liquid hit bottom. She had eaten nothing all day and the impact was immediate.

The warmth crept through her body, causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple across her skin – she raised the glass again and finished it. It felt good – she could see the smoke in the dim light from her cigarette curling slowly up to the ceiling – it was funny to watch – almost seemed to have a purpose – it knew where it was going for a moment – up – and then it seemed to waver and diffuse into funny little wisps in all directions – finally disappearing into nothingness. She giggled from the alcohol. I might just disappear into nothingness, she thought.

She returned to the kitchen and filled her glass again. And after reaching up to put the bottle back she changed her mind, carried it with her back to the living room and placed it on the coffee table in front of her.

She started to call Julia again but decided against it for awhile. It had only been a few minutes since the last attempt. She drained another glass of Scotch instead and then leaned back on the couch, lighting another cigarette. The alcohol had a soothing effect on her.

It was rather warm and she opened the housecoat she was wearing to expose her body to the slight breeze that came in through the open window. She could see its contours stretching down in front of her. It was beautiful, she had to admit. The rounded peaks of her firm breasts stood up defiantly and she could look through the canyon between them down to the soft golden triangle that proved she was really a natural blonde. She was proud of it – and yet, she mused, it was the reason for all of her troubles now. If she had just been a plain-Jane none of the sordid things that had been forced on her in the last few months would ever have occurred. On the other hand, she probably would never have gotten Dave either – if she hadn't been beautiful she thought as she took another drink of the stinging liquor.

She wondered if there couldn't be a middle-ground somewhere – something in between – that must be where real happiness lies.