Desperate Remedies

She can fix this. She can totally fix this. Easy. Right? It’s just a matter of tidying up, disposing of some questionable items, and hiding a body. So simple. People do this all the time. Well, serial killers do this all the time, maybe not housewives of tennis pros living in posh neighborhoods, but she can do it.

If he had just behaved, she wouldn’t even be in this predicament. She’d be getting ready for tonight’s gala in downtown Atlanta instead of figuring out what to do with her dead husband’s body that lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor.

This was NOT part of the plan. Kristina was supposed to live in luxury with the hot husband, the huge house, a couple of kids (years from now, of course), and all the fun money could buy.

Damn it, they just had new floors installed in the kitchen last month and now there’s blood all over them.

“Look what you did, Taylor,” she said, looking around at the blood pooling underneath him. “Asshole.”

Kristina decided her first course of action would be to make herself a cocktail. After mixing the gin and tonic, she sat down on the marble tile near Taylor (God, getting that blood off a white floor will be impossible), rested her head against the refrigerator, and begin talking to the corpse in the kitchen…

“You know, I didn’t want to do this. I mean, it wasn’t that difficult once I started, but I had a really hard time forcing myself to do it. I love you. Well, I loved you. Not so sure I feel that way now, but still, you were the love of my life, the man I knew I’d be with forever. Or until the money ran out. I’m just kidding. I really thought you were a decent, loving, kind, human being, Taylor. Boy, was I wrong. I’m sorry I did this. No. I’m sorry you did this. I just fixed what you fucked up. And now I have to figure out how to fix the mess you made in this kitchen.”

Kristina guzzled the rest of her drink, stood up, and decided to call Meesha. Meesha was Kristina’s best friend, her oldest friend, and the person who absolutely would not judge Kristina for what had happened. Or would she?

Shit, Kristina thought, Meesha is getting ready for the gala tonight. How do I convince her to come over? She won’t believe me if I just tell her Taylor is dead; she needs to see it for herself, and I’m certainly not stupid enough to send a pic of him.

Kristina decided that she’d tell Meesha she had a dress emergency and needed help ASAP. That would get her over.

“Hello?”

“Meesh? Huge problem! There’s a stain on my dress and I can’t figure out what to do!”

“Jesus. Kris, what the fuck. I don’t have time for this. Use a Shout wipe and make it work.”

“Ummm…I can’t. It’s too much for a Shout wipe. It’s…well…I think it’s blood, and I can’t—”

“Blood? Your blood? God you’re so helpless sometimes.” Kristina could feel Meesha’s eyes roll through the phone. “You don’t have time to get blood out of your dress. Let me just bring you one of mine.”

“Thanks, love!” She knew Meesha would eventually come through.

While waiting on her friend to show up, Kristina decided to tidy up a bit. Ok, maybe a little more than tidy up since there’s blood and a dead body and--oh sweet mother of God what is that coming out of his ears? Brain matter? Does that happen? Fuck.

Within 20 minutes, Meesha was busting through the door. “Kris! I brought three dresses and some shoes!” she shouted as she began bounding up the stairs.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

She knew there would be an initial shock factor. She knew Meesha wouldn’t react well to this. Who would?

“What are you doing in the kitchen? Shouldn’t you be putting on—”

Meesha stopped dead in her tracks. Well, maybe dead isn’t the best word to use here.

“WHAT THE FUCK??? Kris, what is happening? Why…what…I don’t even know what I’m asking!”

Kristina knew she had to remain as calm as possible. She knew this moment would be one of two things: the end of their friendship or the moment Kristina and Meesha became joined together for the rest of their lives.

“I know how this looks. But he just hit his head. I think maybe he had a heart attack or something, and he just fell down. He hit his head on the corner of the island, Meesh! I swear!” She tried squeezing out a few tears for good measure, but damn that was hard.

Meesha just stood there with her mouth wide open, clutching the corner of the island. The corner where Taylor hit his head? Did she see blood there?

“Look I just need you to help me. I can’t call 911. You know the police will automatically assume it’s me. It’s always the wife.”

“It’s always the wife who causes a heart attack? Kris. Work on your story, honey. Obviously, something went awry here. Something went horrifically awry. Just tell me the truth. You know you can trust me.”

Kristina thought long and hard before she said anything else. Could she trust Meesha with this? Could she trust her best friend to not send her to prison? Surely she could. She and Meesha had been through everything together. Who else could she tell about what she’d done? And she absolutely had to tell someone.

“It wasn’t a heart attack. It was…well…it was…”

“Tell me, Kris. Tell me what you did, and we’ll figure this out.”

“He told me about the affair. I’m assuming it was the only one he was having. It was the only one I needed to know about.” Kristina took a deep breath and continued, “I just saw red as soon as he told me. I lost it. Honestly, I’m not even sure what I did. What we did.”

“We? What do you mean we? Was someone else here? Talk to me, Kris!”

“Yeah. I made them leave. I just need you to help me figure out how to make this go away.”

“I swear to God, Kristina, if you don’t tell me the whole story right now, I’m calling the cops! Talk!”

Kristina knew she had to be honest or this wouldn’t work. So she took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her words fly…

“Taylor came in and told me we needed to talk. I was about to take a shower and get ready for tonight, but he insisted we sit down and have a serious conversation. I had no clue. No idea what he was about to spill. He told me he’d been having an affair. Truthfully, that didn’t shock me; he’s around young, pretty women every day. I’d be a fool to think nothing ever happened. But when he told me who it was…when he told me their name…I lost my shit. I went towards him with a knife that I’d grabbed from the block behind me, but he stopped me. He was so much stronger than me. The next thing I know, Adam is over both of us…I’m screaming, and Taylor is just silent. And limp. And Adam is just…he’s just there. I screamed at him to leave, and he did.”

Meesha looked like she was about to pass out. “Wait a minute. Adam? As in, my Adam? Why was he here?”

Kristina looked down. Ashamed. She couldn’t look at her friend. “Please forgive me,” she croaked out in a weak whisper.

“He was here with you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? My son was here doing what exactly? Tell me, Kris. Say it.”

Kristina was so ashamed. But more than that, she was enraged. “Yes, Meesha. He was here with me, in my bed. He’s 18, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.”

Meesha exploded. “My son? My son? You’re disgusting, Kristina! How could you do this?” She was screaming, running towards Kristina with her hands ready to wrap around Kris’s neck.

Just as her best friend was about to strangle the life out of her, Kristina yelled out, “Taylor was sleeping with him, too!”

Meesha stopped. Looked from Kristina to Taylor, still lying motionless and stiff in his pool of blood. This was too much to process. More than a mother could handle.

She looked at Kristina and said, “You grab his shoulders and I’ll grab his legs. I know an abandoned landfill.”