Big Hard Girls

by Nikki Crescent

  He slipped his phone out from his pocket, just to make sure it really was his wife and not an important client. He had one missed call from Lacy Parker—nothing to worry about. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Where was I?” he said. “Oh right, I was telling you about the homeless guy at the grocery store. So I’m standing there, right? And this homeless guy is meandering up and down the isle, not looking at any of the shelves, just walking up and down the isle. And it takes the guy working there a good five minutes to realize this homeless guy is just walking around, and he’s not actually there to buy anything. So he walks up and say, ‘Sir, can I help you with something?’ And the homeless guy says, ‘Yeah, you can suck my fat dick!’ And then I just started laughing.”

  Boone’s boss laughed at the silly tale.

  “The poor kid working didn’t know what to do. His face turned red and then he scurried away to get the manager.”

  “Do you need to answer that? Maybe it’s important,” asked Boone’s boss, motioning towards Boone’s pocket. The phone was buzzing again—Boone hadn’t even noticed. He sighed and shook his head.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling out the phone and answering the call. “What is it?” he hushed at his wife.

  “When are you coming home?” she asked.

  “When I’m done work.”

  “When’s that?”

  “When all my work is finished, Lacy. C’mon. You can’t just call like this.”

  There was a short silence. “Okay, see you later,” she said with a soft voice. That voice took Boone by surprise. He was expecting some shouting. Lacy usually dug her nails in and wouldn’t go down without a fight. She was always looking for an excuse to chew Boone out—but apparently today was different.

  “Everything okay?” Boone’s boss asked.

  Boone took a moment, trying to process the strange phone call. Then he shook his head and said, “Yeah, it’s all good. Sorry, where was I? Oh right—so the kid’s boss comes out to approach this homeless guy, and I’m still just standing there, waiting for my turn in line.” Boone paused for a moment to have a sip of whiskey.

  Having a drink of whiskey after work had become Boone and his boss’ new tradition. At the end of each day, they would unwind with a different bottle. It was a nice way to decompress, and it was a nice way into his boss’ good books. Since starting the tradition, Boone had worked his way up from floor manager to district manager, and there was already another promotion in Boone’s future. Boone had his own office with his own desk and his own view of downtown. He got to create his own hours, which was nice because Boone liked to sleep in a little bit every now and then.

  It was around 10:00 PM when Boone finally got home that night—four hours later than his wife was expecting, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. It was 7:30 PM when he was just about to leave, then his boss invited him out to a restaurant, to meet up with some big clients that were in town. Boone couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show his face to a few clients—and his sociability was invaluable, at least according to his boss.

  Boone was surprised to see that his wife was still awake when he got home. She usually crashed around 8:00 PM, shortly after putting Danny to sleep. “What are you doing up?” he asked.

  Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. “I was waiting for you,” she said.

  “Why? Since when do you wait for me?” He hung up his coat and then he cracked a smile, remembering a joke he meant to tell his wife—a joke his boss told him earlier that day. It was a little bit raunchy, but he had a feeling she would like it.

  “Since when do I wait up for you?” Lacy asked. “Since it’s our anniversary.”

  Boone hesitated. Was she lying? Was she just trying to make him nervous? What day was it? Boone checked his watch. “Shit,” he said. It really was their anniversary. He looked over and saw that the table was all set with cold food and a bottle of wine. “I’m so sorry,” he said, rushing up to her. He kissed her on her soft lips, which didn’t pucker. Then he rushed over to the table and saw that all of the little tea candles were burnt out. His heart fluttered down towards his stomach. “C’mon, let’s eat. It looks good,” he said.

  “It’s as cold as ice,” she said with that soft voice, which made Boone’s heart hurt.

  “It’s fine. Maybe we can put it in the microwave.”

  “It’s been sitting there for hours, Boone. It’s garbage.”

  And that’s when Boone noticed the suitcase by the door. He’d almost forgotten: every anniversary, he would take his wife to a fancy hotel downtown for the night. They would get champagne and sit out on the balcony watching boats go by. Boone didn’t have anything booked—but that was fine. It was a weekday night. Surely there were a few fancy hotels with vacancy. He was just at one with his boss and it didn’t look too busy. “Just let me pack a few things and then we’ll go. I think the Porter has some open rooms.”

  “I’m going to my sister’s house,” said Lacy.

  It took Boone a moment to process what his wife had said. “Wait—what?” he said.

  “I’m going to my sister’s house. I’m going to stay there for the night.”

  “Why? It’s our anniversary.”

  Lacy shook her head and let a sad laugh slip out from her lips. “I’m aware,” she said. “Danny’s already there. She came and picked him up four hours ago. You can have the apartment to yourself for the night.” She walked over to the door and grabbed her suitcase.

  “That’s a big suitcase for a single night,” Boone said with a laugh.

  She looked at him with those red eyes, which had been crying all night. “Bye, Boone.” A moment later, she was gone. Boone’s heart was in his gut and there was a lump the size of a tennis ball stuck in his throat. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Did his wife just leave him? Was he officially separated? And for what? Missing a single anniversary?

  Surely Lacy was just on her period, he thought. Surely she was just worked up from his little blunder. She would wake up in the morning and realize she made a big mistake. And Boone was already planning on making it up to her. He already knew what he was going to do: take the next evening off of work, make a reservation at a nice restaurant, and then book a weekend at a spa resort outside of the city. By the end of the weekend, Lacy would be the one apologizing for her dramatic episode.

  CHAPTER II

  But Lacy wasn’t home when Boone got home from work the next night. He tried calling her a few times throughout the day, but she didn’t pick up. He finally left her a message at 6:00 PM. “Lacy, it’s me—your husband. Pick up your phone! We’ve got dinner reservations in one hour. I can’t cancel, so call me back.” He paced around his apartment. He wasn’t so worried about the dinner reservations, even though they would charge his card fifty dollars if he didn’t show up. He was more worried that his wife wasn’t bluffing. It had been nearly twenty-four hours and she was still holding out, still waiting for him to string the correct words in the correct order for the correct apology. He had never been great with words—at least not with her. He was always saying the wrong thing and getting himself into trouble.

  He ended up going out for dinner by himself. If he was going to get changed fifty bucks, he figured he may as well get a meal out of it. He felt embarrassed when he told the hostess that he would be alone. It wasn’t exactly a ‘grab a bite alone’ kind of joint. He ordered a steak and a glass of wine, and then he found himself staring at a room full of happy couples. It almost seemed like they were only there to rub salt into his wound.

  But he knew Lacy would come back. If it was just her period, then it was already halfway done. If it was just her being dramatic, she would quickly realize how much Boone really did for her. Though it might take freezing her credit card for her to really know the extent of Boone’s selflessness. He worked every single weekday. He even worked through most holidays, banking as many overtime hours as he could, just so that Lacy could afford all of the things she wanted. When they first me
t, ten years before, Lacy would always talk about how badly she wanted Manolo Blahnik shoes. Now she had three pairs. She would always fantasize about having a big diamond ring on her finger. Now she had one. She had a big house with a hot tub—she always wanted a hot tub—and she got to go to tons of fancy events. What else did she want? To have all of that stuff and for Boone to be at home all day as well? It was impossible. She could pick one or the other—not both.

  Boone paid for the hotel room for the night, but he stayed at home, just in case Lacy came home. He wasn’t thrilled about paying seven hundred bucks for a room that wasn’t even used, but he did his best to swallow the loss without getting worked up. He kept trying to call Lacy. It was around 8:00 PM when his calls started going straight to voicemail. “Goddamnit,” he said. Either her phone had died or she was blocking his calls. He had a feeling it was the latter.

  She didn’t come home the next night, and Boone wasn’t sure how much more of her dramatics he could take. So he got into his car and he went over to her sister’s house. He figured she was probably waiting for him to show up, waiting for him to hold a boom box over his head and yell an apology for the whole neighbourhood to hear. He rang the doorbell with reluctance. He had to ring it three times before Lacy’s sister answered the door. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Boone had always hated Lacy’s sister. She had a pig’s nose and a frumpy face, always frowning, and always making noises under her breath.

  “I’m here to pick up my wife and my kid. Can you go get them, please?” he said.

  “They’re staying with me. Lacy is looking for her own place.” She said it with pride, as if she was trying to piss Boone off.

  “No, she isn’t. She has a place, with me. Now go and get her.”

  “I will not. She’s her own woman,” she said, as if the stupid comment actually meant something. Boone couldn’t take any more of her shit, so he pushed past her and let himself into her house. “What are you doing? I’ll call the cops—and I really mean it!” Boone wasn’t listening. He started wandering around from room to room, trying to locate his missing wife. He found his son playing with toy trucks in the living room.

  “Daddy!” Danny said, springing to his feet and running over for a hug. Boone gave his son a hug. Then he felt a tug at his back. Lacy’s sister was pulling on his suit jacket.

  “You need to go!” she said. He nearly spun around and slapped her face. Instead, he ignored her.

  “Danny, where’s your mom?” he asked.

  “She’s on the big computer,” he said, pointing down the hallway. So Boone started down the hallway with Lacy’s sister tugging at his suit jacket behind him.

  “You’re trespassing! This is breaking and entering. I’m really going to call the cops—I’m really going to do it!”

  Boone found Lacy in the study, sitting behind a desktop computer. She looked over the screen and then her face turned white. “What are you doing here?” she said.

  “I’m picking you up. You’re coming home,” Boone said.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t go back there.” Her eyes were starting to tear up.

  “What are you talking about? It’s your home. You’re just being dramatic.”

  “Boone—don’t you get it? It’s over. We’re done.”

  “What? What do you mean, we’re done? Because I forgot one anniversary?”

  “One anniversary? You forgot my birthday last month.”

  Boone was about to laugh the ridiculous claim off, and then he realized she was right. Her birthday was in March, and they hadn’t celebrated it. “Fuck. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I shouldn’t have to say anything,” she said.

  “Well I’ll make up for it. We’ll go to the spa for the weekend—the one you like outside of town. I already have it booked.”

  “I’m not doing that. I don’t even know you anymore, Boone. You aren’t the person I married. I haven’t seen that man in two years.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “You should just go. Please—just go.”

  But Boone didn’t leave. He remained still, staring at her, feeling his heart pounding against his ribcage. Was she serious? Was she really breaking up with him? “I’ve been making money, so that we can have a better life,” he said as that lump began to reform in his throat.

  “Well life has been worse. I’m miserable. Danny hardly has a father.”

  “You can’t have a rich life and have me home all the time,” Boone said, biting down on the edge of his tongue.

  “I don’t want a rich life and I never did.”

  “Those shoes—you always talk about how much you love those shoes.”

  “They’re just fucking shoes, Boone. I don’t care about the shoes. Every girl likes shoes. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I’ll do anything,” Boone said. “Seriously—anything. Just give me a chance. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Lacy sighed and shook her head.

  “I mean it. I’ll do anything.”

  “You can start by leaving me alone,” she said. And now Boone was out of words. He took a deep breath. His stomach turned. He could see that there wasn’t much hope left to save his marriage.

  Boone found himself back at home, laying in bed alone, trying to figure out how it all went so wrong. Was he in the wrong, or was Lacy in the wrong, suddenly pretending like she didn’t care about money or shoes or the house. Back when Boone wasn’t making so much, they would bicker about finances all the time. Boone would come home from work and see Lacy on the computer, ogling expensive real estate listings. So how could she pretend now like she didn’t ever care?

  It was midnight and Boone was thirsty. He got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. For the first time since buying the house, he realized how big it was. He felt foolish as he walked down the long hallway to the long stairway, which brought him to the large foyer, and then he still had another vast space to cross to get to the kitchen sink. What was all of this space for? They had one child, not fifteen. They had six bedrooms—four guest rooms, but in two years they’d never had any guests. What was the point? But it was Lacy who had the idea of buying a house with lots of bedrooms. “For when our family grows,” she said. But now it was shrinking, and it was partly because of those damned bedrooms.

  Boone filled two glasses of water out of instinct. He didn’t even realize that he’d done it until he returned to the bedroom and saw that the bed was empty. Now he had two glasses of water to himself.

  He only got a few hours of sleep. When he was awake the next morning, he tried calling Lacy again, but she didn’t pick up. So he tried calling the resort he booked. They picked up. “I need to cancel a reservation. I hope it’s not too late.”

  It was too late to cancel the first night, but he was able to cancel the second night, getting half of his money back. He took a long shower and then he went to work.

  He knew that work was a big part of why his marriage was now failing, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the distraction. It was busy at the office, so he dove right in. He scheduled meetings with managers and staff, he got a head start on the next quarter’s reports, and then he even found himself skipping lunch. He was good at his job—and maybe it was the only thing in the world he was good at, because he certainly wasn’t good at being a husband or a father.

  He worked late, until his boss came into his office and said, “Come have a drink with me.” So he packed up his things and went over to his boss’ office. “Everything okay with you?” his boss asked.

  He forced a smile and nodded. “It’s all good,” he said.

  “You got a lot of work done today. Good job.”

  “Thanks,” Boone said. He took a long sip from his whiskey, letting it burn down his throat and into his stomach. He could suddenly understand why alcoholics used liquor to escape their issues.

  “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah—why do you keep asking?”

  “No reason. You
just seem… off.”

  He went to take another sip from his drink, but it was already empty. He’d slammed three ounces of whiskey in just a couple of minutes. He could feel it tingling down his legs, making his body nearly numb.

  His boss kept staring at him with that concerned look. He tried to ignore it, pouring himself some more whiskey while trying to think of anything but his wife. He felt his phone vibrating. He slammed his whiskey down on the table and he pulled his phone out quickly. It was his wife. “I have to take this,” he said, springing to his feet and rushing over to the hallway. “Hey, babe. How’s it going? I was just about to call you. Are you feeling better? Want to swing by the house so we can talk? I can be home in fifteen minutes.” The line was silent, making Boone’s heart tremble. “You there, sweetie?”

  “When you said that you were willing to do anything to save our marriage, did you mean it?” she asked.

  “Yeah, of course. Anything—you name it and I’ll do it. Even if you want to go on that cruise—we can do that, even though you know I’m terrified of water. I’ll do it for you.” Boone looked down and noticed his hands were trembling slightly. He really wanted her back—and more than that, he wanted everything to go back to normal. He liked his life. He liked living problem-free, going to work every morning with a smile on his face. He hated how all of that changed seemingly overnight.

  “I want to do couples counselling,” she said. And then the line went silent again.

  “Couples counselling? You want to do counselling?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper so that his boss wouldn’t hear. He didn’t want his boss to know that he was having troubles at home—and he especially didn’t want his boss to know that he was considering doing something as humiliating as counselling.

  “I heard about a program that has a really good success rate. It’s over in California,” she said.