Rotten Peaches

by Lisa de Nikolits

“Yes, thank you. A nibbly would be lovely.”

  JayRay raises his hand and the waiter appears. “A round of appetizers,” JayRay said and Iris smiles sweetly.

  “Tell me about you, James. Funny how often the three of us have worked together and we’ve never talked. Amazing!”

  “I would like to say I have had a happy and easy life,” JayRay says and he looks sad. “But I lost my longtime partner to a brain aneurism about a year ago and I still haven’t recovered.”

  I’m sipping my drink when he says that and I snort before I can control myself. Champagne shoots up my nose and I have a small coughing fit but neither Iris nor JayRay notice.

  “Oh my word,” Iris says, her eyes wide. “How old was she?”

  “She was forty-nine. Nearly twenty-five years older than me. I don’t mean to sound like a weirdo, but I’ve always been attracted to older women.”

  “My word, that is quite a bit older,” Iris says and I can see her trying to calculate JayRay’s age in her mind.

  “I’m twenty-nine,” JayRay offers helpfully and Iris sits up straighter and plays with the top button on her blouse.

  “I’m sorry about your wife,” Iris sounds wistful. “She died so young.”

  “We weren’t married. But we had been together for eight years. A long time.”

  “A very long time,” Iris agrees and the waiter arrives with the food.

  “Oh, yummy,” Iris says. “I love to eat. People often ask me how I can eat as much as I do, but I’ve got the metabolism of a racehorse.”

  She eats a piece of bruschetta with precision and JayRay looks on admiringly. “I always drop half of those on my shirt,” he admits sheepishly and Iris smiles.

  “And so what if you do? Eat up, both of you. James, I am, in fact, thinking of installing some more security in my house. I might give you a call when we are back home.”

  “With pleasure,” JayRay says, “I am sure I’ll have everything you’ll need. Do you have family in Toronto, Iris?”

  Iris wrinkles her nose as if something unpleasant wafted by. “I do,” she replies shortly. “But I don’t like them. They’re from my husband’s side and they want the money. They think they can fool me but they can’t.”

  “Oh, you’re married, of course,” JayRay indicates her rings.

  “Widowed,” Iris says and JayRay nods sympathetically.

  “I was his second wife and I was young when we got married. He too was much older than me. I was his secretary, back in the day when secretaries were powerful and important. I attended to his needs and when his first wife died, we became close. It was quite the scandal in those days. I was only twenty-seven and he was fifty-five. People thought I was after his money but I wasn’t, I was in love with him.”

  “I know what you mean,” JayRay said sagely. “Elinor was also rich and her family hated me. But I didn’t care what they thought.”

  “Exactly!” Iris finishes the bruschetta and moves on to the olives and crackers. She chugs champagne and while I know that this is going better than either of us could have hoped, I’m bored out of my skull and I can’t wait for the night to end. I try to meet JayRay’s eye but he’s in the zone, leaning into Iris and nodding.

  “They wanted to have the will contested,” Iris is indignant. “After he died. We had been married for over twenty years! How ridiculous is that?”

  “Ridiculous,” JayRay agrees.

  “But it was thrown out of court. Is there more champagne?”

  “As much as you like.” JayRay tops up her glass. “How long ago did he die?”

  “Two years ago now. He liked me doing these shows. ‘Iris,’ he always said, ‘you have to have a passion in life.’ I miss him. We had such fun together. He came to the shows because he had retired by then and we’d stay on and I’d drive him around to see the sights. We loved going sailing too. He was a sports lover. Golf, sailing, fishing, cycling. It was a terrible shock when he died. He seemed so strong, I thought he would live forever.”

  She seems to be sinking into a dark mood and JayRay takes her hand. “It’s harder than people know,” he says, and his voice is low and meaningful. “The loneliness is brutal. We have to be brave, Iris. But we can find comfort in friends and work.”

  Iris perks up. “You are very right, James. I apologize. I nearly ruined our lovely little party. Thank you!”

  The appetizers are gone and she drains her glass. The bottle is empty. “That’s it for me. Time to hit the hay and get ready for tomorrow.”

  JayRay signals for the bill and he signs it to his room with a flourish. “My treat.”

  “Maybe we can do this again tomorrow night,” Iris says and JayRay beams.

  “I’d love that,” he replies and I mumble something and nod my head.

  “Terrific!”

  We walk across the empty lobby.

  “I love it when it’s like this,” Iris says dreamily. “Everything is quiet, everybody has gone to bed. The world is waiting in the wings for the play to begin and when it does begin, there is nonstop action and it’s all hustle and bustle!”

  “Iris, you should be a writer,” JayRay says admiringly as he holds the elevator door open for her. “That was beautiful.”

  “Why thank you James! I am going to write my memoirs one day. I’ve had rather an interesting life. Here is my floor, nighty-night to both of you. See you tomorrow!”

  “Night, night!” JayRay calls after her and when the doors close, he turns and beams at me.

  “Talk about a hole in one!” he says, and he gives several fist-pumps. “What do you think? We’re in!”

  “We’re in all right,” I say and my eyes fill with tears. “We’re in.”

  “Oh baby, don’t be like that. It’s business. Come on, let daddy make you feel better.”

  But I shrug him off. “You should stay in your room tonight. You never know. Iris might get frightened by a spider and call you.”

  “She doesn’t know what room I am in,” JayRay says but I shake my head.

  “Sure she does. She knows everything about the vendors.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t upset with me?”

  “I hate this, JayRay but I need to come to terms with it. And anyway, I need to answer my kids’ emails properly and act like a good mom to them. See you tomorrow.”

  “Hey, Leo, I love you baby, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I do. I do.” I let myself into my room and close the door, leaving him standing in the hallway.

  I lock my door and sink down onto the carpet and draw my knees up to my chest. I want to cry, sob my heart out, but I’m too drained to do even that.

  18.

  IRIS DOES NOT FIND A REASON to call JayRay to her room. Not that night anyway.

  The next morning she’s beaming positivity from every pore. I notice that she finds reasons to saunter past JayRay’s stand more than a few times, and she stops to chat with him. There’s a bounce to her step and she looks wired and perky.

  I want to throw up. It’s bad enough that this is happening but to have to watch it is nearly intolerable. By mid-afternoon, I’m ready to run.

  “Dinner and drinkie-poo’s later?” I look up and see Iris standing at my table, her hands clutched in a prayer pose, a schoolgirl grin on her face.

  “I don’t feel that great,” I say and it’s true. I’m sweating and shaking and I know it’s a reaction to what’s happening but that doesn’t help. “Why don’t you and JayRay go? I know he’d love that.”

  “Oh! Do you think he would? Poor dear, you don’t look good.”

  “I’m sure he’d love it. I must have a bit of a tummy bug, don’t worry.”

  “Okey dokey! Toodle-loo! Oh, p.s., how are your sales going?”

  “Great, everything’s great!”

  “Fantabulous! See you later, Leonie.”
r />   Iris trots off and I notice that her skirt is several inches shorter than the previous day’s version and her heels are two inches higher. I also notice, with no small dismay, that Iris has some great gams on her. And her ass isn’t bad either. I wonder if the bitch works out. She must. And look at her now, taking off her faux-Chanel jacket and showing off those toned arms. She’s chatting to JayRay and her hip is cocked to one side and JayRay is liking what he sees and who knows, maybe the jacket isn’t faux anything but the real deal.

  “Hello? Excuse me?” A woman waves a brochure at me, wanting to know about SuperBeauty and I force myself to concentrate. If my numbers drop, Ralph won’t think twice about taking me off the shows and giving my slot to that twat Sandra who’s dying to prove herself. Ralph would put me on desk duty or send me down to check on the lab, shit like that. I have to deliver so I can be around to see how this plays out. No way am I letting JayRay out of my sight.

  I sell my little ass off and the woman summons her friends who are texting and instagramming at Starbucks and I sell them each a sales kit and enough product to last a lifetime. It’s one of my best days ever.

  When closing time rolls around, I’m exhausted. I pack up and I’m about to leave when JayRay appears in front of me. “Leo, you okay?”

  “No, I’m not. This is killing me.”

  “Oh, puddytat. How can I tell you how much you mean to me?”

  “You can’t. There isn’t anything you can say. I’m sick from this, literally sick. I’m sweating like a pig. I’ve got a fever but I’m ice cold. I’m sick as a dog. I can’t do this.”

  “You have to. For us. Come on, baby, come on.” He pauses. “I’ll come by later if I can.”

  “No, you need to be available for her. I’ll be okay. I’ll cope.”

  JayRay looks worried but I wave him off. “Go, leave, go. Iris will be waiting. Go on. Do us proud.”

  He leaves and I double over. My stomach is laced with violent, sharp, shooting pains and sweat pours down my temples. My shirt is drenched. I try to straighten up but it hurts too much and I lie down on the floor. Worried that someone will see me, I crawl under the table and curl up in a little ball, hidden by the long tablecloth, with my head resting on my purse.

  I fall asleep and when I wake up, I have no idea where I am. I lie still, trying to remember what had happened. Oh right, I am under the table. I crawl out and lean against the wall of my booth, taking shallow breaths and testing my stomach with tentative fingertips. I feel better. I can breathe and the river of sweat has stopped. I reach for my phone and check the time; it’s after midnight.

  I wonder how JayRay is doing with Iris. It’s all champagne and giggles no doubt. I stand up and clutch the table for support. The hall is eerily quiet, with drapes covering the stands. It’s eerie being the only person in the cavernous place. I hope the main doors aren’t locked but they open easily when I try them. I give a sigh of relief. But then I stop. Wait. Think. Not a security guard in sight.

  I stop because I am overwhelmed by my shameful need. I can’t leave without taking something. I need to scratch this vicious itch until it bleeds. My need is as strong as a fist in my throat and there’s only one way to achieve release. But what can I take? We operate on trust, all the vendors do. We lock up our valuables, but we leave the rest out. I can’t betray that code. But my need is stronger than honour. I’m standing next to Mr. Reid’s stall, the guy from Nova Scotia. I lift the cloth covering the table and there’s his array of tester jams and dips. I glance around. There aren’t any cameras that I can see. I open my purse and throw the jars into it. I take every last one of them, and then I ease my way out the main door.

  Still no security guard in sight. I creep into the lobby and approach the desk clerk, startling her. “Any messages? I’ve been out all night. Room 494.”

  The desk clerk checks and shakes her head. “Nope, nothing. But they could have left a message on your phone. Let me know if you can’t retrieve them, I’ll walk you through it.”

  “Thank you! Penelope? Penelope. I’ll call you if there’s anything. I’m Leonie by the way. Great pubs in this town! Hey, what’s the time?”

  “Nearly half past midnight.”

  “Thanks a bunch!” I sound like Iris and I grin and stroll off to the elevators.

  I fumble with the keycard; my hands are shaking. When I get in to the room, I grab a teaspoon from the complimentary coffee set and I sit on the floor. I empty the jams out of my purse. Four jars of jam and three kinds of dip. I open them and I can’t eat fast enough and I curse JayRay as I shovel the shit into my mouth: look what you made me do, look. Look.

  I lean against the wall when I am finished. My hands and face are sticky. My stomach is distended and painful and there are food stains on my uniform blouse.

  The food rises in a lump and I scramble to my feet and run to the washroom. The jams and dips shoot out of my mouth in a single projectile of rainbow vomit.

  I push myself away from the toilet and sit on the bathtub. I want to cry. This is so bad. I lost control. What if there were cameras? What if someone saw me? And what will I do with the empty jars? What if they search our rooms and find them? There would be no limit to the humiliation.

  I don’t know what to do. But I pull myself together. I can’t lose everything over this. I won’t. I take my clothes off and put them into a laundry bag and shove it into my suitcase. I take the jam and dip jars and put them into a trashbag and I put that in my luggage too and I lock it for good measure. Fortunately I travel with two uniforms or I’d be in real trouble.

  I have a shower and take a sleeping pill. I need to rest. I have to sleep. There’s too much at stake.

  19.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I am resolute. I dress and go down to breakfast. Along with grabbing the potassium cyanide from my storage locker, I pocketed a vial of tranquillizers and I dissolve one under my tongue as the elevator descends. I find a table and in no time at all, I’m feeling quite pleasantly numb.

  I look up to see JayRay and Iris coming into the dining room together and I am so calm. I even give them a little wave. Which is a mistake because Iris comes trotting over, with JayRay in tow.

  “Hello, hello!” Iris is ebullient. “And how are you feeling today, my dear?”

  “Fine, why?” I’m immediately on edge, thinking that Iris knows about my jam thievery.

  “You had a stomach bug yesterday,” Iris reminds me. “You looked terrible. You do look better today. I’ll go and get us coffee, James. Do you want anything to eat?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll get it.”

  “No, let me. What do you want?”

  “Everything!” JayRay winks at her. “Eggs, bacon, waffles, a muffin, toast, everything.”

  Iris trots off and I look at JayRay. “Worked up an appetite, did you?”

  “Yeah.” He has the grace to blush.

  “How was it?”

  “Ah, Leo, hon, don’t do this. She’s kinda sweet, really.”

  “Sweet. Good. Fine.” I push my plate away. I assume the crushing hurt will come later when I’m not as medicated. But in a way, now that the worst is over, I feel relief. He slept with Iris and it didn’t kill me. I’m still alive. Which is remarkable.

  I’m still contemplating my fortitude when Iris returns with plates of food for JayRay and he falls on them, devouring the spread with greed and happiness.

  “Today is our last day here,” Iris says, as if I don’t already know. “How I wish this conference was longer. Oh dear, there’s Mr. Reid and he’s heading straight for us. I may not be able to duck out of this one. Hello Mr. Reid and how are you today?”

  “Someone stole my samples!” Mr. Reid is close to hysterical. “The only thing I didn’t lock up and they were taken. Who would take my jams? They were nearly full. And the dips? It’s the principle of the thing. What kind of gig are you running here anyway? What
are you going to do about this?”

  “We’re going to see security immediately,” Iris says. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Reid, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” She looks perplexed. “This is the first time in ten years that anything like this has happened. I must say, this conference certainly is throwing some surprises.”

  “It’s unacceptable,” we hear Mr. Reid say loudly as they walk away. “I won’t have this. I’ll have you removed from your post for this, Iris Papadopoulos.”

  They move out of earshot and we don’t hear her reply.

  “Was that you, Leo?” JayRay asks quietly, shoveling eggs and waffles into his mouth.

  I nod. My head feels like it’s moving in slow motion and I carry on nodding because something about it feels reassuring. JayRay doesn’t say anything; he carries on eating. When he finishes, he pushes his plate away, wipes his mouth, and throws his napkin on the table. He downs the remains of his coffee and gives a loud burp.

  “You stupid fucking cow,” he says. “Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t poison me with your crap, do you hear me? I’ve got a real chance with this. If you fuck this up for me, I will fucking kill you.”

  “I’ll tell her you’re playing her,” I burst out and JayRay looks at me.

  “Yeah? You will? And she’ll believe you? I’ll say you’re so crazy in love with me, you’ll say anything. You’re mad with jealousy. She’ll believe it. I’ll get you banned from the Canadian shows and Ralph will boot your ass out the door. Now, what were you going to say again?”

  “Nothing,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. What if they find out it was me who took the jams?”

  “What the fuck where you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t, you know that.” And he does know. I’ve told him everything about my past and he never judged me. Not until today when it affected him directly.

  I tell him how I tried to alibi myself with the desk clerk and he shakes his head. “It would have been better to not say anything. Instead, you drew attention to yourself. I’ll let you know if Iris tells me anything. But I’ll text you. I don’t want to be seen talking to you.”