The Raping of Ava DeSantis Page 11

  “Well, since I’m tall I usually have to stick with designer clothes.”

  “How tall are you if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Five-foot-ten last time I was barefoot,” said Ava wryly. “Which had to be years ago.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes, mouth open. “Uggh. I would just die to look like you. You look like a fashion model.”

  “That’s very sweet.”

  “Hard to believe you’re just a housewife like me.”

  Ava smiled uncomfortably. “Well, that I am.”

  “So, which house is yours again?”

  “The two-story colonial on the corner.”

  “Oh, the one with the huge magnolia tree right in the front yard?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  “Aww, I love that house. How big is it?”

  Ava looked up to the sky, conjuring a credible answer. “Five-and-a-half-thousand feet I believe?”

  “Really. This one is only four thousand. I told Wesley we should start small, but I’m already regretting my decision.”

  “No, you have a beautiful home. It’s perfect. Too much to clean if you go any larger. Well, too much for someone else to clean.”

  “Exactly. I mean, we use to live in my husband’s huge home in Ansley Park before we moved here. It was totally gorgeous and built in 1800 or something, but I could not get a decent night’s sleep there to save my life. I think it was haunted.”

  Ava visibly reacted.

  “Do you believe in ghosts, Ava?”

  Ava leaned in, shooting her hypnotic gaze across the kitchen. “Only when they come back for a good reason.”

  Michelle smiled back. “I hear ya.” She then walked over to the Sub-Zero refrigerator. “Can I get you more tea?”

  “No, thank you. This is fine. I need to run soon anyway.”

  “Oh, no, please stay. I don’t get many visitors here. In fact, you’re the first one actually, besides my mother-in-law, who’s a real meanie. Jesus, I can’t stand her.”

  Ava’s eyes darkened. “We can’t win them all.”

  “How about you. Do you get along with your mother-in-law?”

  “Yes, she’s deceased. Best type of mother-in-law to have.”

  Michelle chuckled. “So what does your husband do for a living?”

  “He’s a pilot with Delta. In fact, he’s pulling into Tokyo right now as we speak.”

  “Nice. Do you have any kids?”

  Ava smiled wide. “Well, actually, Wesley and I are expecting our first child in May.”

  “No! You’re kidding?”

  “Why? Don’t I look like the mothering type?”

  “No, I mean, yes, of course you do. Did you say your husband’s name is Wesley?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Holy cow. My husband’s name is Wesley too! Isn’t that wild?”

  “Yes. What a strange coincidence.”

  “Not like it’s a really common name or anything. I can’t wait to tell my Wesley when he gets home tonight.”

  Ava sipped her tea, trying to suppress a smile.

  “So how far along are you? You aren’t showing at all.”

  “Almost eleven weeks. I’m in the twenty-four hour morning sickness stage right now. I can barely keep anything solid down.”

  Michelle waddled to the pantry and pulled out a skinny box of saltine crackers. “Take these. They practically saved my life.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Ava took the box of crackers from Michelle’s hand and placed them on the breakfast bar.

  “But try not to eat too many or you’ll wind up looking like a hippo like me.” Michelle cracked a self-deprecating smile when the cordless phone on the countertop RANG. Michelle moved to answer it. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course.” Ava got up from her stool and headed toward the adjacent white living room as Michelle spoke on the phone.

  “Hello?…Oh, hey, Miss Eloise…”

  Ava shrewdly turned her attention to the phone conversation in the kitchen.

  “…Yes, ma’am. We’ll definitely be there by six…Do you need us to pick up anything on the way in?…Are you sure?…Okay, we’ll see y’all tonight…Yes, six o’clock sharp.”

  Michelle hung up the phone. “Damn, you’d think we were having dinner at the White House.”

  “Well, their home does look like the White House.”

  Michelle was taken aback. “How did you know that?” Michelle was now standing behind Ava in the living room.

  Ava turned and cracked a quarter smile. “I assumed your in-laws live here,” she pointed to an 8x10 photo of Michelle and Wesley in wedding attire, standing in front of a mansion that looked like a replica of the White House. The framed picture was part of a dozen family photos grouped together on a baby grand piano in the corner of the room.

  “Yes, that is their home. Good eye,” said Michelle, strangely relieved. “It’s called Scarborough Mansion, as in the Scarborough furniture family. We were married there.”

  “Old money. Charming.”

  Ava continued looking at the other framed photos on the piano…like the one of Wesley beaming in his college graduation gown…and the one of Wesley celebrating his first year at ScarCom…and the one of Michelle being hoisted in the air by ten cheerleader bridesmaids…and the most recent photo of Wesley and Michelle at the beach; a heart-tugging scene of Wesley tenderly kissing Michelle’s swollen belly as she smiles down upon him wearing a turquoise bikini.

  Ava’s stomach churned as her eyes zoomed in on Wesley kissing his unborn baby. “You have a very handsome husband.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Very blonde, like me.” Ava finally turned away from the photo. “Your son will be beautiful.”

  “Yes, thank you. I can’t wait to meet him.” Michelle lovingly rubbed her tummy.

  Vomit began rising up Ava’s throat, making her turn away from the scene.

  “Are you okay?” asked Michelle.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

  “Do you need crackers?”

  “No, it’ll pass. And your Wesley? What does he do for a living?”

  Michelle was concerned for Ava but continued the conversation. “He owns a PR firm downtown. It specializes in helping law firms publicize big cases or something like that. And he literally works day and night for his stupid clients…At least that’s what he tells me.”

  Bingo. Ava finally straightened up and rejoined the conversation. “Really.”

  “Sure, I mean, you know how it is being married to a successful man. We had problems early on with him flirting and all, but we worked it out.”

  “I’m sure he’s one hundred percent faithful given your sweet disposition.”

  “Well, I hope so. And I think he is…But sometimes you have to wonder about a good-looking man who stays overnight in his office all the time, right? I mean, don’t you worry about your husband? Flying around the world with all those pretty flight attendants?”

  “No, not really.” Ava gave her a look of unbreakable confidence.

  “Well, you should see how many women throw themselves at my husband, sometimes right in front of me! And if they find out he’s a Scarborough, forget it. Makes me sick just thinking about it.”

  “And how did you two meet?”

  “Believe it or not, I was just a travel nurse before I got married. Wesley was over at his best friend’s home for dinner while I was there treating their son for the flu. Little Sebastian junior.”

  Ava suddenly became dizzy.

  “Soooo sad, his best friend just died last week. Thirty-six years old from a heart attack. Can you believe it? Wesley is still so devastated.”

  Ava became off balance. “I’m sorry, where’s your bathroom?”

  “It’s right there. Let me help you.”

  Ava tried to walk, but almost fell. Michelle quickly assisted Ava—still stumbling in her yellow heels—over to the cornflower blue powder room near the front door. After a few seconds, Ava broke free from Michelle, rushe
d into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Michelle stood outside the door listening to the sounds of Ava throwing up violently. “I’m so glad we can bond like this,” said Michelle jokingly. “I’ll get you a case of saltines next time I go to the store.”

  ***

  Ava rinsed her mouth with water as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her large woodsy-green eyes were filling with revenge. How dare you flaunt your unborn baby in my face. Her eyes darkened in the mirror. And to watch that fat demon make three kids after what he did to me? What kind of man are you? Tell me? Who the fuck are you? You fucking son of a whoring bitch!

  “Are you okay in there?” asked Michelle outside the door.

  “Just washing up,” replied Ava in a sing-songy manner. She then rinsed her mouth one last time and shut off the water. As she reached for the decorative hand towel, she noticed a bottle of nail polish and an old-fashioned, sharp metal nail file on the marble countertop.

  Ava picked up the knife-like nail file, examining it closely. She held it tighter and tighter and tighter in her grasp.

  “Just let me know if you need anything,” said the innocent lamb on the other side of the door.

  Ava gripped the nail file with all her might as she slowly reached for the doorknob.

  “Trust me, it gets better in a few weeks,” shouted Michelle.

  Ava’s large green eyes were turning black with murderous rage…

  “You really are sick in there, aren’t you?”

  Silence.

  “Ava…Are you okay?”

  Silence.

  Then suddenly Ava SPRUNG OPEN the door, leapt out of the bathroom and shoved the metal file into Michelle’s face. In response, Michelle bent backwards, terrified.

  “I can’t believe they still make these.” Ava stood cool and calm as a Druid tree.

  Michelle breathed heavily for a few moments…then started laughing, recovering from the false alarm.

  “Oh, did I scare you? Bless your heart.”

  Michelle continued laughing at herself. “You scared the hell out of me. How silly?”

  Ava joined in on the laughter. “How rude of me. I am so sorry.”

  “And yes, they do still make those. I’ll grab you one next time I go to Piggly Wiggly.”

  ***

  Ava stood outside on the doorstep as Michelle remained inside, saying good-bye.

  “Again, I am so sorry I scared you like that. I should be more careful opening doors that quickly,” shared Ava.

  “Oh, please don’t worry, it’s my fault. I’m a total mess without my Prozac.”

  “Listen, if you need absolutely anything while your husband’s at work, just give me a call. I’m always out running errands, so just call my cell before you swing by.” Ava dug into her yellow shoulder bag, searching for a pen and paper to write down her number. While doing this, Michelle noticed a pack of Marlborough Red cigarettes in her bag.

  “Are you still smoking?” asked Michelle.

  Ava thought quickly. “Heavens, no. I don’t smoke. I just keep these in my purse in case my Wesley goes into a nicotine fit.”

  Michelle smiled back in relief. “Well, thanks again for the gift basket. It’s so pretty, I hate to open it.”

  “Oh, but you must. There’s tons of delicious goodies in there. And you might as well eat them now before you start your diet.” Ava’s eyes sparkled behind her oval sunglasses.

  “It was great meeting you, Ava,” Michelle stepped out to give her a hug. In return, Ava felt an unusual twitch of friendly affection.

  “Pleasure meeting you as well.” Ava strutted down the circular driveway in her kick-ass yellow heels. “Good luck with the baby if I don’t see you before the big day!”

  “Thanks, you too!”

  Ava watched over her shoulder as Michelle closed and locked the door. Seconds later, she diverted her direction, walking over to the opposite side of the street.

  Around the corner, Ava dug into her bag, grabbed a cigarette and lit it as she walked towards a canary yellow Lamborghini Gallardo parked behind a community garbage dumpster.

  Ava opened the car door, shoved the key in and REVVED up the engine…

  Welcome to the neighborhood, Wesley.

  CHAPTER 21

  The Gift Basket

  Tuesday, October 10, 2006

  5:32 P.M.

  Michelle sat at an ivory, antique make-up boudoir in her master bedroom, wearing a bright purple fuzzy robe. She scrutinized the pores on her face in the mirror as she re-curled each section of her dark, thick hair with a curling iron. Fat, but pretty. Fat, but pretty.

  Wesley stood nearby, naked and freshly showered, trying to find a suitable pair of underwear in the large cherry wood dresser. “We’re not late. Besides, they can learn how to wait for people.”

  “But Miss Eloise called to remind us to be on time.”

  “That’s not my problem.” Wesley pulled out a pair of orange tight-fitting briefs and stepped into them.

  “Wes, I hate making your mother mad. She’s unbearable if she doesn’t get her way.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Wesley headed into the bathroom to finish getting ready. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a can of shaving cream.

  “Hey, who gave us that gift basket in the living room?”

  Michelle continued fussing with her hair. “Oh, that’s from our new neighbor. She lives in the two-story house on the corner of Maplewood and Pine.”

  Wesley slathered shaving cream across his tanned, chiseled chin.

  “It’s so pretty I don’t even want to open it up. Plus, I’m sure it’s just the usual stuff. Stale cheese and raspberry tarts that everyone sticks in those. I’m just touched she came over to meet me. Very nice gesture.”

  Wesley opened the drawer and took out his large, single-bladed razor. “Yes, very nice.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you!”

  Wesley turned on the faucet. The water was LOUD.

  “Her name is Ava and, of all things, her husband’s name is Wesley too! Isn’t that funny?”

  Wesley turned off the water. “What? I can’t hear you.”

  “I said her husband’s name is Wesley too. Isn’t that funny?”

  “Yes, very funny.” Uninterested in the conversation, Wesley turned the water back on and starting shaving.

  “He’s an airline pilot for Delta, and she stays at home bored to death like me. Oh, and she’s pregnant with their first child too. I think they’re gonna be great neighbors.”

  “That’s nice.” Wesley flinched from cutting a small slit under his nose.

  Then, suddenly it dawned upon him. He shut the water off and hurried back into the bedroom…

  “What’s wrong, Wes?”

  His face said it all. “Did you remember to swing by the dry cleaners today?”

  CHAPTER 22

  Dinner At The White House

  Tuesday, October 10, 2006

  6:18 P.M.

  Wesley drove his black Cadillac Escalade up to the front entrance of Scarborough Mansion—a spectacular, twenty-five-thousand-square-foot home designed to be one-half the size of its big brother on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Wesley looked over to Michelle’s belly with affectionate eyes. “Someday, you will be the king of this castle,” he said.

  Michelle beamed in the passenger seat. “And so will you.”

  ***

  Miss Eloise, dressed in her traditional black and white maid uniform, greeted Wesley and Michelle in the grandiose white and gray marbled foyer. Her round, dark face contorted into an expression of pure joy. “You look adorable, honey! Like Snow White ate a dwarf!” She gave Michelle a big, warm hug. “How ya feelin’?”

  Michelle chuckled in her light pink cocktail dress. “I feel great, Miss Eloise. Thank you.”

  “And you, Wesley! You sure did a fine job with those newspaper people yesterday. We all watched you on TV, and we was glued!” Miss Eloise kissed Wesley on the cheek. His blonde slicked bac
k hair, red satin shirt, and black dress pants looked stunning against the white and gray marbled entrance of the home. “Even your daddy was proud of you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Speaking of the Devil, where is he?” asked Wesley.

  Miriam walked up to the foyer wearing a crimson Chanel suit, nude high heels and a classic blonde Ivana Trump up-do. “You know I don’t like that word used in my home, Wesley.” Miriam of course, looked magnificent for her age. As with all other blood-sucking creatures, evil kept her from ever aging a day over forty. She stiffly kissed Wesley on the cheek. “Your father’s still getting ready.” She then looked at Michelle and gave her a cardboard hug. “Hello, sugar. Looks like you swallowed a basketball down there.”

  Michelle attempted to smile.

  Moments later, sixty-five-year-old Thomas Scarborough—as in the Honorable United States District Court Judge Thomas J. Scarborough—made his grand entrance down the Gone with the Wind inspired double staircase. He was a tall, extraordinarily handsome older man, with dark brown eyes and a full head of sharply contrasting salt and pepper hair, with a well-trimmed beard and mustache to match. He wore a casual tuxedo (as he always did for private dinners) and looked like the kind of man that could have won the 1876 presidency based on his looks and wealth alone. But what truly made Thomas Scarborough special was his larger than life charismatic personality, a black hole celebrity that instantly stole the light from anyone close by.

  “Well, good evening, everybody! I am so honored that y’all were able to finally fit us into your busy schedules and grace us with your tremendous charm, original wit, and hereditary good looks!”

  Wesley rolled his eyes. “Ahhh. Let the guilt tripping begin.”

  Thomas finished walking down the staircase and approached Wesley. “Well, son, it’s only a guilt trip if you have something to feel guilty about.” He reached out and gave Wesley a huge bear hug, then jokingly tossed Wesley aside, grabbed Michelle, kissed her on both cheeks, then bent over wildly smooching her belly.

  Michelle giggled uncontrollably.

  Afterwards, Thomas stood up and announced: “Now that all of the bullshit pleasantries are out of the way, how about we enjoy a few cocktails? Eloise, bust out the whiskey!”