His Third Wife

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” she said, “I just think I need some air or something. I’m going to walk to the bathroom.”

“Want me to walk with you?”

“No. I’m fine. Just need a minute.”

“Okay.”

Jamison stood and helped Val out of her seat.

I almost forgot to put my shoes back on before I left the table. And if Jamison wasn’t looking at me so crazy like he was, I might have run away without them. Run far away from that fucking restaurant. And Keet.

But I couldn’t. I knew he was coming for me soon and I’d promised myself I wouldn’t run when he did. But how he came—that wasn’t something I could have expected. Not from him. Or could I?

I closed the bathroom door and went into a stall. I locked it. Sat on the seat without pulling my dress up and lifted my feet as high as my baby would let me. I needed to be alone for just one minute to think. To plan.

Some woman who was standing in the bathroom talking too loud on her cell phone to some dude about nothing flushed the toilet in the stall next to mine and walked right out of the bathroom without washing her hands.

The door swung open again. I heard a click. Someone was locking the door. I didn’t have to look down to see that the shoes clacking against the floor in the small bathroom weren’t heels.

They stopped. I looked down. They were in front of my locked stall.

“Keet. What do you want?”

“Madam First Motherfucking Lady.”He laughed. “Well, ain’t you gonna come outside and holler at me? I know you ain’t taking a shit in here.”

I let my feet down.

“What do you want?” I asked again.

“Man, stop all this bullshit. In there acting like you done got all soft on a motherfucker,” Keet said. “Bring your ass out here.”

I put my hand on the lock. There was no other way out of that bathroom. And even if there was, I knew there was no other way out of this.

“That’s right. Open the door. I ain’t gonna hurt you. What, you think I’m gonna hurt you?” Keet laughed in a way that reminded me of how his breath smelled like cigar smoke and cognac. Of nights when I felt so wild and free but not safe.

I undid the lock and opened the door.

He was looking at me with a smile that said I owed him something.

“What do you want?”

“That’s all you have to say to me? After all this time?” Keet held his arms out to me. “Don’t you miss me?”

I sighed and struggled to stand my ground.

Keet was my ex-boyfriend. I was dating him when I met Jamison. He was a cop. A small beat cop, who was too smart to want to get off the streets. He liked fucking with people’s heads too much. He mind fucked me for the longest time. Had me thinking he was some kind of prince charming coming to save me on his white horse, but all the time I knew something was off. There was something about how his eyes moved when I was speaking. How he could be so cold so quickly. One night we had been walking down Peachtree after dinner and one of those fat palmetto bugs had run across our path. I’d screamed or something, and Keet had stomped the thing so hard the insides had squirted out from under his shoe like shrapnel. Something about the sudden death had made me sad, but Keet had laughed like he’d enjoyed it and hadn’t cleaned the bottom of his shoe.

He kissed me on the cheek and I smelled the cigar smoke.

“Come on. For real. I just want to say hello. See how my baby is doing. Got married. Expecting a baby. I see you’re moving on up. Mr. Mayor himself.”

“Why are you talking to Jamison?” I pushed Keet out of my way and walked out of the stall.

“No. Why are you talking to Jamison?” Keet grinned. “I guess I know that—onward and upward. Right?”

“Whatever you’re planning, just stop it, Keet. What happened between you and me is in the past. Move on.”