Submerged

She clicked to view the check for two thousand dollars that Wesley had written. It had been made out to Jeffrey Dover, one of the guys her husband played cards with every week. It wasn’t the first time he’d owed someone money.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel like crying. She wanted to strangle Wesley.

The phone rang.

Seeing the name on the call display, she muttered, “Damn.”

“Hey, Rebecca,” Wesley said when she picked up.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” She was being snide, but she doubted he’d pick up on her sarcasm.

He didn’t. “I wanted to thank you for being so agreeable about Colton.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Agreeable.”

There was a pause.

“You sound pissed,” he said.

“I am.”

“What’s up?”

“There’s no money in the bank account.”

“Oh yeah. I was going to mention that check, but I forgot.”

“How could you forget two thousand dollars?”

“I’ll make it back next week. We’re playing double stakes.”

“Jesus, Wesley! You can’t guarantee you’ll win at poker. Besides, where are you going to get the money to play?”

“Mike said he’d front me the money.”

“And what if you lose?”

“You sure have a lot of faith in me. No wonder I feel so shitty all the time. I can’t win with you.”

“Don’t make this about me. You’re the one who put us in the hole again. I’m doing everything I can to keep us afloat.”

At least until the divorce comes through, she thought. Then I can save my own money.

“Oh yeah. You’re so wonderful to be supporting us all.” There was acid in his voice.

“What are you doing to provide for your kids?” she snapped. “My lawyer and I would like to know.”

There was a low growl on the other end of the line. “Rebecca, we managed this separation without a lawyer interfering. That’s because we’re reasonable adults, and we’re thinking of our kids’ best interests. I should move back. We can work things out. I’ll go see someone—a shrink, if you want.”

Her eyes watered. Why does life have to be so hard?

Part of her wanted to beg him to move back home. Maybe she was contributing to Wesley’s employment problem and anger. How good could his self-esteem be if she kept nagging him? She should be more supportive. Her husband was a proud man who’d hit a crossroads in his working life. The economy wasn’t helping either. Up one week and down the other. It made finding full-time employment very difficult. Wesley wasn’t the only person looking for work. As for his anger issues, counseling could help.

But he won’t go. She’d tried before.

“Leave things as they are,” she said, drained of all energy.

“But how can we fix this if―”

“We can’t fix this, Wesley. Our marriage is over.”

Silence.

Rebecca juggled the phone and wiped a sweaty palm on her hip. She heard a clock ticking somewhere in the house and the kids giggling down the hall.

“Wesley?”

No reply.

“Wesley!”

“I’ve got a lead on a job,” he said finally, his voice icy. “It’s up north. Fort McMurray.”

“Did you go for an interview yet?”

“I’m heading up there tomorrow morning. I won’t be back until Sunday. How about we talk about everything when you get back from Cadomin? By the way, how’s everything at work? I heard they were laying people off.”

Tell him you’re going to quit Alberta Cable and start a business of your own. Don’t be such a coward!

For the past year or so, she’d been playing with the idea of owning a bed and breakfast outside of Edmonton yet close enough to the highway that she could advertise to travelers. Every time she’d considered bringing it up with Wesley, she froze.

What I do doesn’t matter now. Not to him.

“Everything’s fine,” she said. “We’ll talk later.”

“Becca?”

She sighed. “Yeah?”

“Enjoy your little holiday.” Slam.

She was left holding a dead phone.

At 8:50 Rebecca poured a small glass of white wine and sank into the faux suede recliner in the living room. She released a soft groan and mentally shook off the remnants of her day.

The kids were in bed. Ella was probably already asleep, dreaming of fairies and flowers. Colton had been playing Jade Empire on his Xbox 360. She’d given him until nine, then lights out. Of course she’d have to remind him more than a few times. That came with the territory of being a mom. She recalled reading with a flashlight under the covers when she was about Colton’s age.

She smiled at the memory.

Thinking of her upcoming holiday, she began her nightly ritual. First she turned on the TV for noise. It comforted her to hear someone else’s voice besides her own. Some nights she listened to music. Anything other than listening to the house breathe and creak and groan. She also turned on a light in the kitchen and bathroom, plus the lamp by her chair. She didn’t like the shadows or walking into a pitch-black room. One never knew what was lurking in the dark.

Or in the fog.