Where: The Band Aid Murders – a grown up, choose-your-own-adventure featuring erotica, drugs, and all the mayhem a fallen detective can get into.
She was married to my best friend, he was my only friend. I had come to Salt Lake City after my divorce. I drank too much and thought that it seemed a good place to dry out. Well I hadn’t dried out but Monica and Michael reached out to me. They invited me into their home. There they were the perfect Utah family six kids a loving dad and an amazing Mom.
I watched Monica the way she handled the children, juggled potatoes on the stove, Jello into the fridge, a mess of kool aid soaked up and swept away and a fresh made salad left in its place on the table. Boys were being boys and girls where doing their best to help. Michael and I traded jokes on the couch and when he stood to help she said
“I’ve got this dear.” and she winked.
That is what I think about as the scotch rolls around my glass. Sure I see that night a few days later when Michael would be gone forever a victim of my gun. Maybe the earlier scene is idealized, maybe she really didn’t have everything under control, but she was happy I know she was happy and I know it’s my fault she may never be again.
I feel guilty because at that moment I wanted to be Michael, I imagined what it would be like to have a woman like that. A domestic Goddess that handled all the important things in life, someone that got the kids to school, made sure the house was clean, ironed his shirts and pants, prepared dinner and made sure everyone was ready for church on Sunday. I thought about more than just domestic duties, I saw her wink; I know you can’t create six children without a fairly healthy sex life. Michael was the type man that would never discuss such things, they never came up between us, but he was a happy man and I was not and that lead me into imagining where his happiness came from and I think I saw it in that wink.
It was the only time my mind’s eye ever wandered there. I saw her as more than a woman, I saw her as a lover one that I coveted, desired and yet would never deserve. It was an intrusion into their lives even though it was only in my imagination. I felt the guilt then sipping my 7-up eating the bread she had baked I knew it was wrong but I never imagined how bad it would get.
And so now the scotch swirls and a girl half my age is being tasked with eliminating a pain she can’t even comprehend. She will be compensated with money the state pays me to protect girls like her or maybe to protect men like me from girls like her. I don’t know but I am a cop and she’s a prostitute and no one will care so the exchange will be made and nothing will change.
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