by Kelly Utt
Little did they know, he would soon begin releasing more and more detailed information until John Hughes was forced to resign from the office of mayor, and Bea Hughes was put in prison where she belonged.
He could imagine her now, her long, dark hair unstyled and pulled away from her bare face, her body swimming in an unflattering orange jumpsuit. She wouldn’t look so good without her makeup and pretty clothes. He couldn’t wait for her to grace the front page of the newspaper, showing the world what she really was: an unattractive, undesirable, lying murderer.
27
Three days later, Bea had returned to her backyard art studio to clean up the paint that had spilled the morning the anonymous call came in. Things had been relatively quiet in her life and she was buoyed by a new feeling of connection to her husband. John hadn’t been home much, but when he had he was kind and attentive. She hoped things would work out for the best and that her little family of three would stay together.
Dr. Benjamin had reported good news from the medical testing and didn’t think Bea had anything more serious than tachycardia and an anxiety disorder to tend to. He referred her to a cardiologist and gave her strict instructions to call him immediately if she felt pain or discomfort in her chest or a sensation like she was about to faint. She promised she would do exactly as he instructed. She felt like she had dodged a bullet. She was glad there wasn’t anything more serious wrong with her heart. She called Dr. Duffie as promised and scheduled an appointment for the following week. Bea had come to terms with her medical situation. She was willing to go on medication to help with her anxiety if that’s what the psychologist recommended.
No new videos had been released. As far as Bea knew, no more calls had been received either. She hoped that maybe they'd seen the end. Given the lull, John was taking the attitude that they’d wait and deal with any developments as they came up rather than taking steps to handle the situation aggressively. He reassured Bea that sometimes blackmailers got cold feet and simply went away. Deep down, Bea knew there was more to come. She avoided the newspapers and the Internet on purpose, and she enjoyed the peace and quiet with a newfound appreciation. She was more determined than ever to keep her chin up and her family under the same roof. She felt silly for having spent the night in a hotel just a few days earlier.
Max was back at school, and thanks to the administration’s careful watch, Landon wasn’t picking on him anymore. Max felt supported and safe. Everyone involved was happy with how things had turned out. Upon Bea’s request, Lana had moved back in. Marmalade was still in Sacramento, but Natalie had promised to return him home soon. It wouldn’t be long until things were back to normal. With any luck, Bea thought they’d be better than normal.
Morning sunlight streamed into Bea’s art studio through the little window with the floral curtain. The light lifted Bea’s spirits. Inspired, she decided she would spend the day painting whatever wanted to pour out of her. She thought of it as art therapy. She could feel herself beginning to heal after having confessed to Lana and John, and she wanted that healing to continue. She decided she’d let her husband be her inspiration today. They were planning on a romantic dinner that evening. It had been John’s suggestion, offered as a way to make up for the difficulty he had put Bea through as a result of his lost temper a few days prior.
Bea reached both arms up in the air and stretched like a cat, enjoying the warm rays. Then she selected a large blank canvas and placed it on her easel. She pulled out her smartphone and selected some mood music. She chose a playlist with a selection of eighties love songs that were some of John’s favorites. True Colors by Cyndi Lauper came on first. It felt like a perfect representation of their relationship. Bea could feel the music flowing through her and making her body sway along with the slow, sauntering beat. She thought about how the love she and John shared was special in its own way. Even though it wasn’t what she might have imagined, it was what they had. And that was enough. John cared deeply for her. She knew that now. What kind of man would keep his wife’s secret like John had if he didn’t love her deeply? Bea promised herself to never take him for granted again.
She reached for a few of her favorite paintbrushes and then dipped them each in pinks, oranges, and reds. Fall would arrive soon in Northern California and the leaves would change to the very same colors as her paint. For the first time in a long time, Bea felt like she was in sync with everything around her: with her art, with the music, with the seasons, and with her husband. She began to paint a nature scene with beautiful autumn trees and two figures sitting together on a bench. The figures reminded Bea of herself and John, weathering anything that might come their way as they grew old together.
True Blue by Madonna came on next, and Bea picked up another brush then dipped it in a pastel blue the same color as the September sky. The art in front of her on the canvas took shape fast and effortlessly. It reminded Bea of her days in New York City when creating art had come easy and selling it to appreciative patrons even easier. Bea let her hands take over as one song after another played. Stroke by stroke, a masterpiece was created. When she was finished, she stepped back and assessed her work.
Fine enough for a New York City art gallery, if I do say so myself.
Filled with enthusiasm and love for her husband, Bea decided she would surprise John by giving him the painting as a gift. He had admired her artwork when they first met, and she thought perhaps this painting would provide a way for them to reconnect. She decided to call it “Fair Skies Whenever I’m With You.” From the bottom of Bea’s heart, she hoped it would touch John and rekindle the spark they once had. She even thought maybe they would grow close enough to make love again. Feeling amorous, Bea turned on a fan to help the paint dry, then went inside and up to the bedroom she shared with John to get ready for their special night.
As she stepped into her walk-in closet and ran her fingers along the edges of the hangers, she knew she was searching for something extra special. She wanted to wear something so pretty that it would make John weak in his knees. First, she considered a deep purple dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that fell just above the knee. John had bought it for her on a trip to Las Vegas not long after they were married. It showcased the kind of classic lines that never went out of style. But as Bea held it up against herself and looked in the mirror, it didn’t seem quite right. She wanted to bring back the feelings for when they were first married, but she wanted those feelings paired with hope for a new future. She wanted something to symbolize where they were going. After rifling through other options, Bea wasn’t sure she would find anything right. She considered several dresses, but ultimately decided they were either too proper or too somber for the occasion. Several others seemed too summery for September, but others yet were too wintry and covered too much skin.
Finally, Bea’s fingers landed on the perfect flirty number. It was powder blue, almost the color of Cinderella’s dress. It landed off the shoulder, but not too far off the shoulder, and featured cascading ruffles that fell in a lopsided line below the knee. The waistline was tailored to show off Bea’s trim figure. She thought it was perfect for the evening, especially since it matched the color of the blue sky in the painting she had just created for her husband.
Bea took the dress out of the closet and tried it on, then admired herself in front of the full-length mirror. As she looked at herself, she couldn’t help but remember a few days prior when she had tried on the floral print dress and thought of Travis, until Officer Tatum came to the door and caused her to hurl all over her fancy clothes.
Oh, Travis, Bea thought. Why can I get you out of my head?
The bright side, though, was that Bea was feeling calm and centered. No longer was she jumpy every time someone knocked on the door or the phone rang. Even though she knew intellectually that the threat remained, confessing what she’d done had worked wonders for her psyche. She only wished she had told someone sooner. Bea wasn’t a Catholic, but she suspected she was beginning to und
erstand the power of their confessional. She thought having a priest absolve her of her sins might be the best thing that could happen in her life. She made a mental note to do some research to find out what might be involved with attending mass and making a confession. Bea considered herself spiritual and not religious, but she was beginning to think it might be time for some religious guidance. Questions about forgiveness weighed heavily on her. She wanted to forgive herself. And if she ever found out who that man was, she wanted his family to forgive her for what she’d done to him.
Wishing to keep her mood upbeat, she pushed all those thoughts out of her mind. Instead, she focused on exactly how she would charm and seduce her husband. By the end of the evening, Bea intended to be making love to John in their bed, then falling asleep happily in his arms.
A few more hours remained before they were scheduled to meet, so Bea decided to put even more effort into setting the right mood. First, she changed back into her regular clothes to spruce the bedroom up without getting her dress dirty. She hung the dress on a hook in the doorway where it wouldn’t be harmed while she worked. Next, she took the old sheets off the bed and replaced them with a pink satin set John used to like. In her bathroom vanity she found an old perfume that had a heavy, spicy scent that seem to turn John on, so she spritzed some on the sheets and would do the same on herself once she was dressed. The day before, Bea had picked up a big bouquet of roses at the farmer’s market and so decided to put them to use. Once the bed was made neatly and turned down with the satin sheets visible, Bea plucked the petals off the roses one by one and spread them artfully around the top of bed. She and John had never made love on top of roses before, but she thought it would be a nice touch to make tonight extra special.
She had it all planned. When they arrived home, Bea would bring a bottle of wine and glasses upstairs for them to sip. The only thing missing was candlelight. Bea found a bag of tea lights in one of her vanity drawers, so she spread the tiny candles all around the bedroom. She rehearsed it in her mind. When they first arrived home she would have John wait downstairs long enough for her to scramble upstairs with the bottle of wine and light the candles. For maximum impact, Bea would change into one of her négligées that was given to her as a gift at her bridal shower. In fact, she’d wear it underneath her dress at dinner. It would be a sexy reminder of what was to come. If things went well at dinner, maybe she would guide John’s hand under her skirt so he could feel the négligées for himself. Bea hoped she would turn her husband on. She hoped she still could.
When Bea had showered and done her hair, she put on the Cinderella dress, then applied makeup and jewelry to finish the look. Satisfied that the room was ready and she was as dolled up as she could get, Bea went to the living room to hang out with Max and Lana for a few minutes before heading downtown to meet John. They said they loved her dress and they showered her with compliments. When it was time to go, Bea stopped in her studio to check on the painting on her way out. It was drying nicely and would be ready to show John when they returned home. Bea thought maybe she’d make him close his eyes and wait downstairs as she got everything ready and moved the painting somewhere it could be prominently displayed. She looked forward to enjoying a good night.
As Bea pulled out of the driveway, Myra White was standing at the edge of her own yard near the road. She looked like she might wish to chat, but Bea didn’t want to be late for her special evening. Bea waved at Myra and went on her way, her Cinderella dress crinkling under the seatbelt shoulder strap.
28
John had insisted they have dinner at Honey Hog, despite Bea’s concerns about the scene he had made the last time they were there. He had been working to make amends for his behavior and had gone to Honey Hog twice to apologize to the owners. John assured Bea the owners were okay with it and would welcome the mayor and his wife for dinner.
Determined things would be better this time around, Bea smiled as she opened the heavy glass door at the front of the restaurant. The sun was setting, and its angle made everything sparkle. The restaurant was beautiful, inside and out. The owners had created the perfect ambience with low lighting and candles on each table. Bea hadn’t remembered it being so romantic the last time she was here.
John was already seated at a table in the back. When he saw his wife walk in the front, he stood up and waved to her before the hostess could finish a greeting. Bea felt proud to be the mayor’s wife. She almost felt like some kind of royalty, even if it was only in a small town. Basking in the warmth of John’s affection, Bea sauntered her way around tables and chairs as she walked towards the back of the room where her husband was sitting.
“Well, don’t you look pretty?” John asked as he took both of his wife’s hands in his own and kissed her on the cheek.
Bea blushed. “Thank you,” she said. “I wanted to look nice... For you.”
“You do,” John remarked as they sat down and scooted their chairs up to the table.
A young Asian waiter with an eager expression on his face arrived at the table to take their drink order. John ordered red wine for the both of them without asking Bea what she wanted, but she didn’t mind. It made her feel taken care of. She liked feeling taken care of.
“I’m really glad we’re doing this tonight,” Bea said to her husband. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our future and I want you to know I’m fully committed to making things work.”
John reached for Bea’s hand over the top of the table and cradled it in his own. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked with a smile. “You’ve seemed so unhappy for such a long time. In the last few days, you’ve been like a different person.”
Bea shrugged, moving one exposed shoulder seductively. “I don’t know how to explain it,” she said. “Other than that I feel loved and supported by you. Maybe that’s all I’ve needed all along. Now I’m blossoming like a flower.”
“I’m glad,” John said. “I really am sorry that I have been so short with you. I guess we just got into a rut. I got into the habit of taking my frustrations out on you and that wasn’t fair. In life, we all make our own choices. Even when we think we’re stuck, we aren’t, really. It all boils down to risks and rewards. We can do anything we want if we can stand the consequences.”
“How very philosophical of you,” Bea said with a laugh. “But you’re right.”
The conversation remained upbeat as John ordered salads for the two of them, then deviled eggs as appetizers. They were well into the main course of brisket before a negative word was spoken.
“Dammit,” John said, apparently in response to someone who had walked in the front door. His brow furrowed. It was as if a dark cloud had settled over him. His mood turned sour.
“What’s wrong?” Bea asked. When John didn’t answer, she turned around in her chair to see for herself, only there was a large crowd gathered around the hostess stand and she couldn’t make out anyone in particular who might have caused John to react the way he did. “Answer me, John. What is it?”
“Nothing for you to be concerned with,” he replied gruffly.
“Come on, John,” Bea said. “We were having such a nice dinner. Let’s not ruin it.” She turned around in her chair for a second time, but still couldn’t tell who it was that was upsetting her husband. She thought about the preparations in their bedroom at home and the painting. She really wanted the night to go smoothly.
“I’ve got to make a trip to the restroom,” John said under his breath as he pushed himself away from the table and stood up, his brisket only partially eaten.
“Okay,” Bea said, bewildered. She racked her brain but couldn’t figure out what was going on. “Hurry back. I have…” He was out of sight before she could mention the surprise waiting at home. Her heart sank.
John stayed gone for what felt like an eternity. Bea’s pride in her Cinderella dress turned to embarrassment as she sat alone feeling overdressed, her food getting cold while she waited on her husband to return. His absence spoke volumes a
bout his priorities. She began to wonder if she could ever compete with his job. It seemed like she would always be a distant second. She wondered what she had been thinking referring to her dress as like Cinderella’s in her own mind.
Will I always be like a helpless child in my husband’s eyes, and he like an overbearing parent in mine?
When John finally returned, his face was flush and he was perspiring. His tie was ever so slightly off center.
“Sorry about that,” John said. It was rare for him to apologize for anything, at least to Bea. And he had done it several times in the past week. “Gracious. Now our food is cold. You didn’t have to wait on me to finish eating.”
“I’m sure we can ask our waiter to have it warmed up,” Bea replied. “What took you so long?” As she looked at her husband more closely, she noticed one side of his collar was turned up more than it had been when he left the table. “John, have you been in a fight?”
“What? No,” he answered. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
Bea leaned forward across the table so she could talk without other patrons overhearing. “Because your face is red and you’re all sweaty.” Beads of perspiration continued to form on John’s brow even though he was sitting down now. “Your collar and tie are disheveled, too.”
John’s face turned as red as the dinner plate he was eating from. “Hush now, Beatrice. That’s absurd.” He began to eat the cold brisket spastically, needing something to do with his hands. A couple at a nearby table took notice. Bea could feel their eyes on her and she didn’t like it.
“Where did you go?” Bea tried again.
“Out back. I had to take care of a work thing.“
“What kind of a work thing?” Bea asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but something strange is going on. Surely, you can see how this looks.” Bea motioned in the direction of the couple who was staring at them.