by Emma Accola
Once I got home from work, I turned on the television for the local news and then opened the freezer. What would it be tonight? A frozen entrée of chili mac, lasagna, or a vegetable pot pie? I felt a pang when I recalled how Tamra used to tease me about being a wine connoisseur, yet I’d eat anything from a package that contained microwave instructions. Before I could decide, the doorbell rang. Micah had come calling, thrilling me. He carried an enormous pizza box.
“If you haven’t eaten yet, I thought you might like sharing this with me.”
“What kind of pizza?” I asked casually, hoping the whole time that he wouldn’t see how delighted I was to have him at my door.
“Pepperoni.”
“I have a chianti or a prosecco. Come on in.”
“Prosecco.” Micah stepped inside. “You’re the only woman I know who doesn’t keep around bottles of cold, cheap, and tasteless pinot grigio.”
“I’ll have you know that not all pinot grigio is cheap and tasteless. My family’s winery made one that had a floral flourish with a citrus note. Bring that pizza here.”
He followed me into the kitchen. “Did you just get home?”
“Yeah, a few minutes ago.” I took a couple of plates and wine glasses out of the cabinet. Then I paused to select the wine.
Micah laughed when he set out the pizza slices on the zebra-striped plates. “No one can say Gary isn’t consistent. The kitchen is as much a zoo as the living room. Is having all these animals around ever unnerving? I mean besides the zebra you smashed up.”
“The cougar head in the bathroom was until I put a towel over it. Every time I got in and out of the shower, I kept imagining myself naked and wet in that thing’s teeth.”
Micah chuckled. “Does the flatware have an animal theme?”
I opened a drawer and pulled out a table knife. “All the handles are tiger striped, except for the serving spoons. They must come from a different set because they’re snow leopard.” I brought the wine to the table. “Gary developed a reputation for whimsy, and his friends, colleagues, and relatives were generous in giving him lots of animal-themed gifts. His nephew hand-painted the tiles in the hall bathroom with big-eyed fish and did the mural of woodland songbirds on the guest bedroom wall. Literally every last thing in this house, down to each switch plate, textile, and toilet brush, has eyes.”
“No, no, there’s one thing that’s not embellished,” Micah said as he pointed to the cupboard doors. “Those are plain.”
“Actually, they’re not. The pulls have little turtle faces, but they’re hard to see because they’ve been worn off over the years.”
“I stand corrected.” Micah’s eyes went around the room. “What’s it been like, being in Gary’s world?”
“Like I’m living the life he built for himself. Like his life is pushing in on me. Like I’m walking someone else’s path—one I chose to walk, but not my path. Yeah, but it’s a familiar one.”
Micah tipped his head as he watched me. “You’ve felt that way before.”
I poured the wine and handed a glass to him. “Tamra once visited me at the winery while I was working. She said I had a sureness about me. That what’s she called it. A sureness, like I made everything look easy, as if I walked through my day with the grace of a cat on a fence. She figured it was because I was born to the life of being a vintner, like it was in my DNA. She said I wore my unearned social privilege in the pores of my skin.”
“What do you think about that?”
“Is this therapy?”
“It’s another of my twenty questions.”
I gave him the look I used on students who were impertinent. “I couldn’t choose the circumstances of my birth. And yes, maybe I did grow up with a lot of advantages, but I’m not lazy or soft.”
“No one said you were. Do you consider yourself privileged?”
“Yes, but it’s not entirely unearned. What I know I learned from Mom and Dad by working in the business. The winery has been on Dad’s side of the family for generations. My ancestors were vintners in Italy and France. They brought the vines with them. Mom’s parents have a winery in the San Joaquin Valley that’s been in her family since the Civil War. I paid my dues laboring at my parents’ side, if that’s where you’re going with this.”
“Who says we have to pay dues? Maybe we should just live the life we’re given.”
I looked at him, a little surprised by his response. “So says the man who grew up in a house in Marin with views of the North Bay.”
For the briefest moment, Micah’s eyes flashed. “Caleb and I weren’t raised in a family business like you were. My dad was the CFO of a hotel chain and Mom worked in hospital administration. As it happens, they invested quite wisely in some internet start-up companies. And keep in mind that all of the good fortune that you and I received at birth didn’t stop random chance and fate from taking my parents and brother from me or you from being estranged from your family.”
“That was Harry Spice, not fate or random chance,” I said with bitterness. “Every time I think of him, I wonder what I did in one of my past lives to deserve all he’s done to me. I must have been a horse thief or drowned some puppies or something else really bad.”
“Don’t blame yourself for his crazy and stop wondering about past lives. Let’s just worry about how to survive him here. Karma can sort out the rest.”
I leaned back in my chair, my pizza forgotten. “That’s what bothers me. The past. If this is karma working everything out, then what wrong is it trying to right? What could the two of us have done to deserve all of this?”
Micah wiped his fingers on a paper napkin. “We didn’t have to do anything. In my classes I taught the psychology of stalkers like Harry Spice. When he met two beautiful and accomplished women like you and Tamra, he wanted connection and recognition, but you both rejected him. Harry Spice refused to accept it and started projecting his extreme emotions on you and Tamra. When he was charged with rape, he widened his circle to Caleb and me. What you see him doing now is trying to resolve a conflict with intimidation. He’ll control us with threats and lies.”
“Something tells me he’s more than a seriously motivated stalker.”
Micah became grave. “Yes, he’s a narcissist with the ability to circumvent security by using computers. He researched you, me, Tamra, and Caleb so he could find our weaknesses. All his attacks on you and me are keeping the connection alive between us. All that is enough.”
“I asked the maggot what gave him the right to ruin my life.” My face flushed in anger. “He mostly thought the question was funny.”
“Somebody like Harry Spice believes he’s entitled to his revenge. He likes the attention this is getting him even though it’s negative attention. He will work ruthlessly to win this because winning every time is part of his identity.”
“None of what you just said brings me any comfort.”
“He’s not all powerful.”
“I’m still not feeling the confidence.”
He grew serious. “You haven’t found any other surveillance devices, have you? I can check the house.”
“No, nothing at all, and I’ve looked really hard. Can we please talk about something else?”
We spent the rest of the meal chatting about our favorite movies and restaurants. It amazed me how similar our tastes were, especially in the ways we interpreted scenes from movies. He asked me if I missed living out in the country, and I asked him what he saw himself doing in ten years. The conversation moved around from subject to subject, like a date. Was it, actually, a date? We were putting the plates in the dishwasher when the telephone sent up a shrieking bellow through the quiet house. Both of us nearly jumped out of our skins.
“It’s Gary,” I said, chuckling at how Micah had his hand over his chest to calm his startled heart. Clearly both of us were jittery, even though we might not want to admit it. “He calls me on the landline once a week.”
“Go ahead. I’ll clear the table.”
/> I picked up the cordless phone from its charger. “Hi, Gary, what’s up? It must be really early in London.”
“Yeah, it is.” His voice became rough, cutting. “Look, Gracie, I’m going to cut to the chase here. I know what you’ve been doing. I have my credit report right here in front of me. I know about the fraudulent mortgage you’re trying to take out on my townhouse and the six credit cards you’ve opened using my identity.”
For a moment I was utterly still because my mind needed some time to comprehend what the man way saying. Then I wanted to scream a painful denial, but the rational part of me forced me to stay calm. My voice barely quivered. “Gary, what are you talking about? I haven’t opened any credit card accounts or taken out any mortgages on your home.”
“You’re really going to say that to me when I have the proof right in front of my eyes.”
The cold hand of sanity only barely managed to keep its grip. “I only have two credit card accounts that I opened years ago. And I haven’t tried to mortgage your house. How would I even do that? Whatever you’re looking at is some kind of horrible mistake.”
Micah gently took the handset from my numb fingers and put the call on speakerphone.
“A mistake?” Gary snapped, his words heavy with sarcasm. “The credit report I pulled up isn’t some fiction created by a computer. It’s how I know you’re attempting to take out a two hundred thousand dollar mortgage on my home. And what about these credit card applications? Did they just fill themselves out?”
“I didn’t do any of those things. And computers don’t always show what’s true.”
“What about people?” Gary’s voice sounded tinny through the speaker. “Yesterday three of my oldest friends in the English Department called me. They told me how you’ve been accused of running over a student with your car after he spurned your sexual advances and how you plagiarized your dissertation. The entire faculty and staff know about your jealousy over Micah Ekstrand and how you had him fire all his attractive student help. I saw the self-aggrandizing emails you concocted to get rid of them.”
“None of that is true,” I said, my heart racing. “I am being framed.”
Gary’s voice rose in anger. “Are you some kind of conspiracy nut?”
“I’m not a nut if it’s true.”
“Your mental problems are yours to solve, but I have to protect my finances.”
“Listen to me,” I said desperately. “I’m not trying to defraud you. Someone named Harry Spice is out to ruin me. He’s doing all that.”
“I’ve heard about Harry Spice, the innocent man that you put in prison with your false accusations of rape. I know all about it. And I’ve stopped your fake mortgage, cancelled the credit cards, and issued a fraud alert to keep others from preying on me. Your identity theft is done now. Over.”
“I didn’t do any of that,” I cried.
Gary’s voice was almost a shout. “You have twenty-four hours to leave my home. If you’re out of my house in twenty-four hours without stealing or damaging anything, I won’t press charges for the identity theft. But if one spoon, light bulb, or zebra is missing, I will come down on you to the full extent of the law. We can do this easy or we can do this hard. You choose.”
“Gary, please—”
“Gracie, you are certainly proof that no good deed goes unpunished. You’re on drugs, aren’t you? An addict. I’ve done some checking on you, and your life has been in a downward spiral for the past year. For the love of heaven, get yourself in treatment.”
Micah held his hand up to silence me. “Gary, this is Micah. I will vouch for Gracie’s truthfulness.”
“Micah? Didn’t you hear everything I just said? She’s taken that pretty face and wormed her way into your life. But she’ll turn on you too. Take a bit of friendly advice. Stay away from her or she’ll be accusing you of sexual harassment to extort a payoff. While you’re at it, check your credit report.”
“Gary, there’s more to this than you understand,” Micah said, his eyes on me.
“Micah, shut your mouth. You don’t want any of this.” His voice rose to a shout. “Gracie, are you going to get out of my house or do I call the cops? Answer me now. I won’t make this offer again.”
Micah’s face was impassive as he nodded at me. My face tingled as I paled.
“I’ll leave.”
Gary sounded relieved. “Good. Pack up. A locksmith will be coming at five o’clock tomorrow afternoon to change the locks. Don’t be there. My brother will take care of it.”
“Yes,” I said woodenly.
“And I’ve asked the dean to assign you a new office.”
My eyes started burning. I closed my eyes and put my fingers to my temples. There didn’t seem to be any point in arguing. That office was Gary’s territory to do with as he chose.
“Gary, come on,” Micah said angrily. “That’s a low blow. You don’t have any proof that Gracie did any of those things. She’s being framed.”
“No proof?” Gary snapped. “I’ve spent hours trying to undo the fraudulent loan and credit card applications that this woman has submitted. She’s a thief and I was a fool to trust her. Why should I show her any consideration? And if you don’t start thinking with your big head instead of your little head, she’ll fleece you out of every thin dime.”
Micah’s lip twisted in disgust. “Aren’t you classy?”
“Micah, I doubt that you’ve ever drawn a stupid breath, so don’t start now. She needs help, serious therapy, not an enabler.”
I couldn’t let that remark stand. “Gary, I am not on drugs—”
“Shut up.” Gary cut me off in a voice sharp enough to chisel stone. “I won’t tell the dean about your addiction problem, but I swear on my daughter’s life that if you screw me over on this, it will be career suicide for you. I will piss in every ear I have to until no college in the Bay Area will hire you.”
My stomach turned over. Moving offices in the middle of the semester would confirm to the entire English faculty that the rumors about me were true. I might as well be wearing a sandwich board proclaiming my guilt. Even my students would want an explanation. “I’ll leave, but you’re wrong about me.”
“I wish that were true,” Gary replied in a voice that lacked all conviction. “I really do. And just so you know, I’ve called your parents. From what they told me, all this started when you broke up with your fiancé. The way I see it, that young man dodged a bullet.” Gary’s tone became scolding and raw. “Your mother cried. You’re breaking her heart.”
“You had no right to talk to Gracie’s parents,” Micah said angrily.
“I had every right,” Gary shot back. “I told Gracie’s mother to make sure the little addict hadn’t stolen from the winery too. If she can perpetrate a fraud like that on me, heaven only knows how much she’s embezzled from the family business.”
My knees gave out and I dropped into a chair. My parents had been through enough over the rupture in the family between Faith and me without being told I had become a thief and a drug addict. Gary had ground sea salt into their open wounds. They loved the winery like a fourth child, and the idea that I would harm it must have been a staggering blow. I could hardly breathe.
Gary was still talking. “Tomorrow at five o’clock, Gracie. That’s all I’m prepared to do for you—”
Micah disconnected the call. “Harry Spice is behind all this, probably in retaliation for breaking up that surveillance zebra. Count on Gary to make damn sure the entire faculty hears why you’re out of his office and home. He had no right to call your parents. That was cruel.”
But I wasn’t thinking about my job. “If my parents do an audit, they’ll find something, won’t they?”
Micah looked bereft. “Harry Spice will make sure if it.”
“He programmed all the winery’s computer systems,” I whispered, thinking of the canning operation, the tasting room, and even the website. “He knows all of it, from the sprinklers in the vineyards to the databases.”
“Gracie, stop. You’re going to start blaming yourself, and you shouldn’t. There’s no way when you hired him that you could have seen what sort of person he is.”
My heart was in my throat when I pulled my laptop toward me, opened it, and went to remotely access the accounting program I used in the winery. My password no longer worked. Two more times I entered my password, just to be sure. Then I swallowed a whimper. The winery books had been my baby for years.
Micah put his hand on my shoulder. “It will be all right.”
My hands and knees were shaking. Despair was turning my stomach. I knocked Micah’s hand away. It felt hot and intrusive. “How will this be all right?” I cried.
“Gracie, listen to me. Harry Spice is trying to break you down. He’s trying to wear you out to make you think that there’s nothing left to fight for. Don’t make that concession. Don’t let him have you.”
“He’s got me already.”
“No, never say that.”
My body began quaking. “You know something? After what happened to Tamra, I was ashamed of how much I hated him because I thought no civilized human being should be able to hate that much.”
“Gracie—”
“Don’t you get it? He doesn’t see his revenge as making us even. He sees beating me as a duty. His rage is a monster in him that he can’t stop feeding.”
Micah set his hands on my shoulders. “He’s just a man. Don’t build him up bigger than he is.”
I wasn’t listening. I pulled away from Micah and began pacing the kitchen. Unbidden, my arms started waving as I talked. “That son of a bitch thinks he can just tear down my life like it was made of straw and trample me underfoot. But he just made a big mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s made it so I have nothing left to lose. My dearest friend, my relationships, and my family are gone. The winery, my ancestral home, is closed to me. My car is impounded and I’m being kicked out of this house. My dissertation has been discredited. Gary will tell everyone I’m on drugs. Yeah, I still have my job, but by tomorrow everyone will have condemned me for sexual harassment, murder, plagiarism, and defrauding one of their colleagues and my own parents. Pretty soon I’ll be suspended, hopefully with pay, while admin investigates all the charges against me. And if all that’s not enough, I have to carry boxes of my stuff past all my new colleagues which they’ll perceive as proof of guilt.”