Easy Money

I stood at the water’s edge, letting the warm Pacific lap over my feet. The rain was coming down so hard I thought I’d drown. I touched my lip and winced. The blood had likely been washed away by the rain, but the pain remained. 

My pretty sundress clung to my body. My sodden hair hung down my back and over my face. It had looked so pretty a short time ago when we sat at dinner sipping cold Sauvignon Blanc and eating fresh opakapaka, which I’d only ordered because I liked saying it. But rain and hairstyles don’t mix well. 

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the waves and the rain. It was difficult to distinguish one from the other. The sounds blended together like a well-conducted symphony and were all I could hear out on the empty beach. The air smelled so clean and still held that slight sweetness from the plumeria blooming nearby. Chicago never smelled or sounded like this.

When James had suggested Kauai for our honeymoon I wasn’t super excited to be honest. I’d always wanted to honeymoon in Niagara Falls, just like my mom and dad. I really wasn’t much of a beach person. But then he showed me pictures and we watched The Descendants so I could see where we’d be staying and he was so enthusiastic about it I agreed. I mean, George Clooney seemed to like it so who was I to argue?

“We can go to Niagara Falls any time,” James said and got on the phone to his assistant. I listened to him give instructions about flights, rental cars, and the beach house on Hanelai Bay he wanted to book.  

It had all happened so fast. James swept me off my feet, quite literally. We met at the Lincoln Square Farmer’s Market. I was picking out radishes and he was sampling the apples the scraggly, sort of smelly guy was cutting and thrusting at folks. The unkempt worker was all into some sort of juggling thing he was doing with the knife and apple and somehow dropped the knife, which landed in my sandal-clad foot, right above my little toe. Before I could even register what had happened I was lifted up by this stranger and he was rushing through the crowd to a sign that read “First Aid.”

“We need some help here,” he shouted.

“Oh shit,” the young woman said when she saw my foot, which by now was gushing blood all over my new Birkenstocks. He plopped me down on a folding chair and I passed out. I’d never been in an ambulance before and kept wondering what it was going to cost me. Turned out it didn’t cost anything, and I got my foot bandaged and a new boyfriend all at the same time. 

When Trina, my best friend, came rushing into the emergency room James was sitting by my side. He rose to greet her, but she was never one to stand on ceremony.

“Who are you?” She asked, pushing past him to reach me. “What the hell happened?”

I was pretty groggy by that time, between the blood loss and the oxycodone, so James jumped in and filled her in on the saga.

“You carried her?” She asked. I couldn’t tell if she was incredulous, irritated, or impressed.

“My knight in shining armor,” I slurred, though I’m not sure either of them understood what I said.

“Well, thank you, James,” Trina said. “If you have somewhere to be I can take it from here.”

But James didn’t leave. Instead he and Trina sat with me, chatting up a storm, until I was finally allowed to go home. Trina, as always, had plans so James offered to take me back to my apartment. 

“She lives on the third floor and doesn’t have an elevator,” Trina said.

“No worries,” James replied.

He carried me up the three flights of stairs. I was glad I’d been dieting. 

After he tucked me into bed and propped my foot up on a pile of pillows he went down to his car to get my crutches. By the time he got back I was sound asleep. When I emerged from the drug-induced coma many hours later it was dark and I was fuzzy. I heard someone banging around in my kitchen and for a minute forgot what had happened and thought an intruder was in my apartment. Then I moved and the pain shot up my leg. I cried out and James came running into my bedroom, then it all came back to me.

James fed me that night and for several more after. He helped me change my dressing and carried me down the three flights of stairs to the sidewalk, where he then assisted me to get used to maneuvering on crutches. I had no one else so it was kind of nice that he stuck around. Trina called but was too busy to come by or drop off food or help her best friend in any other way. 

The first time James kissed me I just knew he was the one. We were having dinner at North Pond and over our chocolate tart he leaned in, touched my cheek, and kissed me softly. That was the first night we had sex and it was really, really good, even with me crying out in pain now and then when my foot would get bumped. I cried out in other ways too. From that moment on we were pretty much inseparable.  

James came from money. His parents had a magnificent mansion in Glencoe, right on the Lake. He brought me there to meet them and his mother was so welcoming, fussing over me and making sure I was comfortable and bringing me glasses of rosé—really good rosé, not the cheap stuff Trina and I drank. The house was filled with pictures of James—on a tricycle, in a Little League baseball uniform, in a cap and gown proudly displaying his college diploma. He was an only child and clearly adored.

The night James told me we were going to North Pond again I was a little surprised. It’s not a cheap night out and even though he had plenty of money it felt excessive. He was adamant, though.

“It’s our two-month anniversary,” he said. “I want to do something special. And this time I don’t have to carry you down the stairs.”

My foot had healed and I could walk again, which was a relief. I still had an ugly scar but who looks at your feet? 

When we got to our table a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon was waiting.  

“Did you order that?” I asked when I’d taken my seat, which James held out for me.

“Only the best,” he said, and without missing a beat he dropped to one knee, pulled out a black velvet ring box, and said those words I’d dreamt about my whole little girl life. “Will you marry me?”

He really did just say those words. He didn’t tell me he loved me or about how I’d changed his world or how empty life was before he met me. Just “will you marry me?” He opened the box and a gargantuan oval-cut diamond glittered out at me. How could I say no? The whole restaurant applauded as he slipped the ring on my finger and we kissed and the champagne cork was popped. It was so romantic! It might have been more romantic if he had actually told me he loved me before popping the question, but how could I complain?

James would have gone down to City Hall the next day, but I wanted a real wedding with flowers and cake and guests and photos and a lacy white wedding dress. I got most of it, but chose a simpler dress when James let me know he abhorred lacy things. Just two weeks after James proposed to me we were married on the grounds of James’s parents home with glittering Lake Michigan in the background. Trina was my maid of honor. My mom and dad had died when I was twelve and I had no other family so his mom had helped me buy my dress and his dad walked me down the aisle. 

“I always wanted a daughter,” his mom said to me when she paid for the absurdly expensive dress I’d wear only once.

“Welcome to the family,” his dad said when he left me at James’s side.

We spent our wedding night at the Hilton in O’Hare because we had an early flight to Kauai the next morning. It wasn’t the most romantic place in the world but we were so tired from the wedding it really didn’t matter. I had hoped to have sex on my wedding night, but we both fell asleep before we even got to the foreplay portion. 

 It was an incredibly long day, flying from Chicago to Kauai through LA. Almost twelve hours on planes is painful, even in first class with your new adoring husband. But when we landed at Lihue airport I was mesmerized instantly. I’d never in my life smelled anything quite like it—a mix of flowers and spices and fresh air that even the jet fuel couldn’t cover. And the air was so warm and soft and moist, but not so oppressively humid you couldn’t breathe or so hot you thought your feet would melt. It was, in fact, perfect. 

The drive to Hanelai Bay was breathtaking. James had rented us a convertible and I felt so terribly sophisticated with my scarf tied around my head, my big sunglasses on my face, and my fragrant lei hanging around my neck. 

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before,” I yelled over the wind.

“Told you you’d like it,” he said.

“I’m so happy,” I said.

“Better than Niagara Falls?”

“Better than Niagara Falls.”

He smiled and focused on the road. 

When we arrived at the beach house he carried me over the threshold. We had the sex we didn’t have the energy for the night before then got cleaned up and I donned my favorite of the sundresses his mom had helped me pick out, fixed my hair, and we went to dinner. 

And now here I was. I turned my back on the ocean and trudged back to the house, up the stairs and across the porch, which James told me they call a lanai, to the open front door. It all looked the same as when I left it a short while ago. Even James still looked the same, lying on the kitchen floor with the chef’s knife sticking out of his chest, though there may have been a bit more blood pooling around him.

“You’re a mess,” a voice said.

“That was the idea, wasn’t it?” I asked.

“You should call 911 now.”

“Have you made sure you don’t have any fingerprints on anything?”

“It’s clean as a whistle.” 

“Do you think we need more?” I asked, waving my hand in front of my face.

“Black eye, split lip, bruises on your arms. I think we’ve got it covered. But get some of his blood on you.”

Trina was surprisingly good at beating someone up. I knew it would hurt but wasn’t quite prepared for just how much. I’d also not realized how much the knife in my foot would hurt either or how cute she would be as a scraggly, kind of smelly farmer’s market vendor.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, kissed my cheek, and walked out the door.

James had been such an easy target. His family had gobs of money but were such innocents. They hadn’t even mentioned a prenup. And then there was that incident with the girl in college, the one he’d allegedly hit. They’d settled it but there was a police report and, therefore, a history. It wouldn’t be too farfetched to think he’d do it again. I was, after all, his only serious girlfriend since then. Now I just had to pull off the rest of the charade and then collect the money. I was a really good actress so wasn’t particularly concerned. I mean, I convinced James that I loved him, after all.

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“I,” sniffle “killed” sniffle “my husband,” I said then broke down in sobs.

When the police arrived I was sitting on the floor shivering. I had James’s blood on my hands. My right eye was swollen shut, my lip was bleeding again, and the bruises on my arms were darkening.

“She’s clearly in shock,” one of the cops said, looking at me with what I could already tell was sympathy.

“Oh,” I thought. “This is going to be easy.”