Killing Monica

Jonny had his pants around his ankles and was hopping up and down, trying to get out of them. With a sigh, Pandy went to her bureau, opened the top drawer, and grabbed a vintage silk negligee.

Jonny got out of his pants. He saw the piece of old silk in her hand and pulled it away, waving it over his head. “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s do it in Old Jay’s bed,” he leered.

Pandy shrieked. “What?” She snatched back the negligee. “Old Jay’s bed has an old horsehair mattress. It’s infested. With bugs.”

She hurried to the bathroom door and then turned to Jonny. “I’ll be right back,” she said, watching him until he shuffled over to her bed. When she finally closed the door, she was quite sure he was on top of it.

When she opened the door, he wasn’t.

She stepped into the room to look for him, but Jonny had vanished. And Pandy had a very good idea where.

“Why can’t we do it in the old man’s room? I want to do it in his bed,” Jonny whined, standing in front of the massive wooden structure.

“No,” Pandy said firmly, her voice once again taking on the cast of the reluctant schoolmarm. “I’m not going to ‘do it’ in Old Jay’s bed. It isn’t proper.”

“You think I’m not good enough!” Jonny shouted.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She reached out for him, but he slapped her hand away.

Then he put his hands over his head. Swaying back and forth with his head tucked under his arms like a petulant child, he said, “Listen, babe. I fucked up.”

Pandy froze.

And suddenly, it all somehow made sense: He was going to ask her for a divorce. That’s why he’d agreed to go to the shrink; why he’d agreed to come to Wallis House. To tell her in a place where no one was around, so if she freaked out, she wouldn’t embarrass him. Because that was what men like Jonny and PP did.

PP. And then she had a far worse thought.

“You lost all the money,” Pandy said.

“The money?” Jonny waved this away. “That was gone long ago. But the restaurant…”

“You lost the restaurant? You lost all our money?” Pandy’s heart was so constricted that her voice came out in a high, glass-breaking shriek.

For a second, they locked eyes. Pandy sensed a change in the atmosphere, as if Jonny was suddenly sizing her up as an opponent.

The hatred she felt for him at that moment was so intense, she felt as if she had turned to stone.

“Come on, babe.” He strutted toward her. “This is why I so don’t want to talk to you about busines

s. I don’t want you all over my fucking back. Let me take care of the money stuff,” he pleaded, rocking from side to side. “You’ve got this beautiful house. We could do something amazing with the place…Remember Architectural Digest? It could be just like that.”

“Jonny—”

“I’m going to convince you. Just the way I always do,” he said playfully, lifting one finger in the air for emphasis as he took another step forward.

Pandy found she was unable to move. Jonny took another step and fell on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

He lifted his head, looked around, and then looked down into her face. This time his eyes were unfocused. In that same silly, faux-warning voice, he repeated, “I’m gonna convince you…”

And then he blacked out. Too much ancient gin.

Pandy put her hands under Jonny’s chest and shoved him off. He rolled to the edge of the bed.

Pandy got up and doubled over, trying to push down what the convulsions from her stomach were trying to push up.

Jonny belched. He opened his eyes and stared at her, still on his stomach. He smiled. “I’m so happy we worked everything out,” he slurred. His mouth involuntarily pursed, and he raised his palm to cover it. “Oh, and by the way?” He swallowed like a guilty child and sat up. “I don’t know if your friends have mentioned it, but people think Lala and I are having an affair. We’re not. I did have sex with her, but only twice. I’m sorry, babe,” he said with a wave as he slowly fell backward. “It won’t happen again. She respects you too much for that. And don’t worry, she’s discreet.”

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