Fred's Boxing Day

"Oh, is this a hockey jersey?" She looks down at the logo. "Oh, hey, yeah! I just wanted to wear it 'cause it's yours." She bats her eyes at me. "It feels like you in here," she tells me, and wriggles around inside my jersey.

"Em..."

"Hmm?" She looks up at me with those deep sky blues and smiles that award-winning Emma smile.

"I love you so much it hurts."

Her smile drops just a notch, now it's tender. "Derf, it makes me feel real good when you say mushy stuff like that to me."

I chuckle at this and take her in my arms. She grins and puts her chin on my chest, smiling up at me. "Are we ready to go, Mr Real Man?"

"I'm ready to take Emma to bed," I tell her, and her eyes widen in mock fear.

"You are trying to ruin me, I know it."

"I'm trying to ruin you for anyone else."

She laughs. "Don't worry, Fredster. If I was that kinda girl, would I have an expired box of rubbers in my drawer?" We laugh together for a minute and I hug her inside the way-too-big-for-her jersey that looks spectacular on her.

"Let's go, my love," I tell her, and she hugs me again, hard.

"Let's go, my wonderful man."

"I'll go in here alone," I tell Em.

"Are you sure, Fred?" She sounds kind of dubious. "You can't really walk."

"I'll just be a minute..."

She looks at me a moment, then nods. "Okay..."

I limp through the snow to the door of the mobile home that is the Interloper headquarters. I knock twice and open, and there is Casey. I limp up and shake his hand.

"Here you go," he tells me, and slides a DVD across the counter to me. I pick it up and put it in my pocket. "I put an index on there of when she was there, how long, what was visible...Fred, that woman is shameless. Back in August she parked her car in the back of the lot and fucked this guy right on the hood of her car."

"I wondered how that dent got in there..." I expected to feel nothing, but Carol's reckless betrayal still hurt.

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"I saw her car at the Shady Rest Christmas Eve--"

"Oh, that was you? I saw you on camera."

"Yes sir, and I confronted her about it then, and our marriage has been over ever since."

"Hey, whoa. You are NOT gonna take that into court, are ya?"

I shake my head at Casey. "Don't worry, I don't expect it to get that far, and if it does I'll find a way to have gotten them other than through you."

Casey smiles. "Good enough."

"That didn't take long at all," Emma says as I get in the car. "Was that a drug deal or something you better tell me about now?"

I pull the DVD from my pocket and stick it in Emma's glove box.

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you later," I promise her.

"No way, man, you tell me now. I don't drive around with clandestine shit in my car."

"It's a movie..."

"Like a porno kind of movie?" Her voice darkens. "Or like a snuff-movie kind of movie?"

I laugh. "Neither. It's actually pretty boring. But it's important that you don't know what that is right now. I'll tell you when we leave the apartment."

Emma doesn't like it but she agrees, and we are there by five minutes to two. I get out and so does Emma; she walks quickly over to me to take my arm so I don't hurt myself on the ice.

"Hey, look!" Emma points. "It's Frank. Hi Frank!" she calls out to him, and waves.

Frank looks panicked at first. He throws his boxes in the trunk and slams it but he soon recognizes that I don't mean him any harm. I walk slowly up to him and offer him my hand; he shakes it limply.

"How goes, Frank?" I ask amiably. He shakes his head and I see he is loading his car.

"That...woman is..."

"A psycho bitch?" Emma asks him, her pale eyebrows arched.

"Yes, a psycho bitch! That is--" He breaks off, looking warily at me.

"Frank, I am NOT GOING TO HURT YOU," I tell him, with some emphasis. "For the record, no-one agrees with you more than me. But yesterday I saw you moving stuff in, now you're moving it out? What happened?"

He's really angry, I see; his face is red and he's shaking a little.

"That...Carol...got a call from her apartment manager today, that she had til February to sign the lease or move out, and she told me she was moving out." He frowned and looked mighty pissed. "After I left my wife, moved out of my house and into here. And I ask her, why did you have me move in here with you if you didn't want to live here, and she said she wanted me here just to piss you off." He shook his head.

"You left your wife for her?" Emma sounded disapproving and unbelieving.

"Yeah. Stupid, huh?"

"I tried to warn you," I told him. "Remember that anyone who does anything to anyone is capable of doing that to anyone else. Carol...I don't think she's all there, Frank."

"She's a manipulative little cunt with designs on the fucking world," Frank replied, his face tight with anger.

"Frank?" Emma asked. She put on her supercute look, with the batting eyelashes and and 50000-watt smile. "do you think you could...maybe...sign an affidavit to that effect?"

"Heh, right," Frank replied, impervious to Emma's charm. "I still have to work with that fucking cooze. But good luck with the next guy she runs roughshod over." He gets in his car and starts the motor.

"What a nice man," Emma says, her voice sweet. "So eloquent." I laugh, and she smiles at me before narrowing her eyes and trying to look mean. "I still have to work with that fucking cunt. Even though I was the one fucking that cunt two days ago." She sticks her tongue out at his car as it pulls away.

We walk into the apartment manager's office to find a tall willowy brunette and a short heavyset redhead with glasses. I see that the office work is being done by the short woman and the tall woman is looking at a Myspace page.

Hmm, who is most likely to have dropped the ball, and who would be the one to make it right? I approach the redhead.

"Hi, Tangie?"

"That's me! Mr Duncan?"

"Fred, please. This is my partner in crime Emma." We shake hands all around.

"Fred, Emma, I'm really sorry about the problem with the time--"

"It's okay," I say. "It gives me an excuse to spend more time with the love of my life."

"Mrs Duncan?"

"No, Miss Grossberger here," I tell her definitely.

"Oh. I see," Tangie says uncertainly. "Well, if you're ready--" And she gestured toward the door.

"Please," I tell her, "my ankle was pulverized yesterday and I can't walk fast." I demonstrate.

"No trouble at all, Mr...Fred," she tells me as Emma stands beside me to let me put my arm over her shoulder, and we make our leisurely way to the elevator.

"I told you to GO and DON'T COME BACK!" we hear through the door when I knock. I wait, then knock again.

"You stupid no-listening motherfucker!" Her voice gets louder as her stamping feet get closer. The door opens on one of Carol's best kill-you faces.

"Oh, it's you, Fred," she says when she sees my face. She sounds actually happy to see me. I get an opportunity to survey Emma's work--Carol has a black eye and a blue bruise on her chin. "Listen, if you bring that fucked up bitch around me again I'm gonna mess her up, okay?"

Emma, who was beyond the edge of the door supporting half my body, snaked her neck over. "Hi, Carol, so nice to see you again," she said sweetly, and pulled back again. Carol's eyes widen and she steps back.

"Sorry, Carol, but she's helping me get around since you crippled me this morning."

She doesn't look sorry; she looks emotionless. "What do you want, Fred?" Her voice is cooler.

"We're here to do the walkthrough we talked about, Mrs Duncan," Tangie tells her. Emma looks resentful.

Carol opens the door, but points at Emma. "She is not coming in here."

Emma's jaw dropped in outrage.

"She has to, I can't get around if I don't lean on her."

There's an impasse for a moment, then Carol relents. "Fine, whatever. Don't let her touch my stuff."

"You're really not a nice person, Mrs Duncan," Emma tells her mildly but with a little emphasis on the name, and I realize she's deeply jealous of Carol for having it. Carol glares at her, but just lets it go. Probably wisest to.

Emma and I had the same idea at the same time: we pull out our cellphones and start snapping pictures of everything. We take pictures of Tangie and Carol together; we take pictures of the spotless walls and cabinet doors, the lack of holes in the walls behind doorknobs, the absence of nail-holes where pictures might once have hung. Carol looks upset about this, and I think she planned on doing something destructive in there I would have to foot the bill for. We're there maybe ten minutes before we start filing out. As I turn to Emma to take her arm, I feel a hand on my elbow.

"Fred, we need to talk." Carol tugs my elbow. I don't move.

"We do?"

"Yes." She sounds impatient. I smile.

"About what?"

"Yeah, about what?" Emma's voice has a hard ring to it.

Carol takes a deep breath. "Fred, may I please talk to you..." and she turns to face Emma. "...alone?"

"What do you need to talk to him about that you can't say in front of me, huh?" Emma crosses her arms and I realize she's really really pissed.

"I just want to talk to my husband alone." Carol's voice is slick and kind of greasy.

"He's not yours anymore, he's mine. I told you that." Her words come faster and I realize I have to stop this or she'll murder Carol. Hopefully figuratively.

"Em, can you give us a minute?" I ask.

"Fuck that, Fred, don't you see what she's doing? She wants you back--"

"Excuse us," I say to Carol, and I step outside with Emma.

"Em," I tell her, "There are some things I need to discuss with her. Let's get it over with and we never have to do this again."

"Fred, she's trying to get her claws in you, I see it, I know her type, please don't go back in there--"

"Em, I need you to do something for me I've never asked you to do before."

"What?"

"Trust me?"

She looks at her feet for a moment, then raises her eyes to mine. She chews her lip, then nods once. "Yes. Okay."

I kiss her, and I hear Carol clear her throat. Emma pulls back a bit. "Shut up. We're busy." She kisses me again, even longer. "Go, Derf," she tells me, and closes her eyes.

I limp into the apartment and Carol slams the door hard. She rushes over to me and puts her arms around me. I stay stiff and unresponsive.

"I've missed you, honey," she tells me. "Please come back to me."

"What about Frank?" I ask her, and she makes a dismissive kind of waving motion with her hand.

"He was just here to make you jealous, so you'd want me."

"Why?" I was confused. "When you were married to me--"

"We're still married, Fred," she interrupts.

"Let's fix that. When you were married to me, you were fucking this guy--"

"It was only the one time, Fred, God!"

I just stare at her. "What?"

"Once, only once! I've been faithful to you, you...shit!"

"You fuck him once and get him to leave his wife? Right, okay."

"It was just a change of pace, is all--"

"God damn it, Carol, have you forgotten how to be honest?"

"I am being--"

"You're a fuckin' liar!" I explode. "You were a fuckin' liar last time I caught you cheating, you're a fuckin' liar this time. You lied when you told me you were going to Cleveland, you lied when I asked you how it was."

"I...you're right, Fred, I'm sorry, but I'll change, I'll never lie to you again."

"You threw your marriage away for a one-night-stand?"

"Yes, a one-night-stand, that's all, it won't happen again." She held up a hand and looked pathetic. "I promise. I didn't even fuck him last night when he was here."

I don't care one way or the other.

"What do you want, Carol?"

"I just want us to be a family again," she tells me, and her lip trembles but her eyes are as dry as tombs.

"Okay, then let me tell you what I want."

"Anything, baby," Carol tells me, and she manages to manufacture a tear to roll down her cheek. I think of crocodiles.

"I want a divorce."

"No way! Fred, please don't--I know you want me, you want to be here--"

"With a compulsive liar who can't be faithful?"

"I told you, I'll never lie to you again!"

"You lied to me right after you told me that."

"What? How?"

"You've been fucking Frank Caswell for months," I tell her. "One-night-stand, huh?"

She's silent for a minute. "You can't prove that. You want to divorce me, you're gonna pay."

"I am?"

"Yeah. You abandoned me, leaving me without support--"

"Oh please, you make twice what I do."

"Your girlfriend beat me up--"

"You started it, Carol. We got film, remember?"

"And no-one's as good for you as I am."

I laugh in Carol's face.

"Carol, let me tell you something. You and Frank have been real regular customers at the ole Shady Rest, haven't you? Don't answer that, I know you have. But what you don't know is that I have the surveillance tapes from the Shady Rest parking lot cameras."

Carol slowly takes this in, and her jaw drops.

"Now, if we go to divorce court, that footage is gonna make it pretty clear that you are not the model wife and won't ever be, not when you've been FUCKING some guy for SIX MONTHS--" My voice is rising and I don't stop it. "--and LYING to your husband that it's BUSINESS TRIPS."

Carol looks desperate. "There's no proof, Fred, no receipts. I paid for everything on my company account." She gives me a snide look.

"I'm sure. I'm also sure that I can get copies of those tapes to your work by tomorrow, and they'll be real interested to know how much they're paying you to fuck your co-worker."

Carol's gone pale and she's not steady on her feet. "That won't work."

"No? Why not? They're all date and time stamped and your face shows up clear enough. So does Frank's." I pause. "Especially that time you did it right on the hood of the car. Where did that dent come from? Basketball, didn't you say?" But she's beyond answering. She's shaking.

"Okay, Frank, what do you want?"

"I want an uncontested divorce. I want my computer and my cell phone charger. And..." I take a deep breath. "I want the wedding set back. It was my mother's."

She stares at me, then looks down at the rings on her finger for a long moment. "Fine, here," she says with a spiteful tone, and throws them at my feet.

I pick them up and put the engagement ring in one front pocket and the wedding band in the other. "I need Emma's help with the computer," I tell Carol, but she is sitting at the kitchen table and she doesn't answer. I walk to the door.

Emma's standing outside the door with her head down. I can see her hair and the tip of her nose, and that's all. She lifts her head; her eyes are dry.

"What's keepin' you in there?"

"I'm done, I just need to get something and I need your help." Emma brightens immediately.

"I'm all yours," Emma says brightly.

We pack my stuff up in a box and Emma carries it out to the car for me. I hold her for a long time before we get in and I see Carol staring out the window at us from the second floor. I wave, and she closes the drapes.

Emma holds my hand as she drives, and I rest my hand on her knee. She sighs, contented.

"Fred..."

"Em?"

"I was worried when you were in there. I thought you'd come to the door and tell me that you were reconciling and that I should fuck off."

"Huh?" I shake my head. "Emma, You. Are. My girl. I told you you have nothing to worry about."

"Well, you were in there a while..."

"I had to tell Carol some things that she didn't want to hear."

"Like what?" She looks way too eager to hear what Carol didn't want to.

"I told her I want an uncontested divorce, and my computer and cell phone charger."

"And she just gave 'em to you?"

"Hell no."

Emma was quiet for a bit. "I was right, though, huh? She wanted you back?"

I nod. "Yeah, she tried to tell me how she was best for me. I had to present courtroom proof that that wasn't the case."

"Courtroom proof? What proof?"

I open the glove box and bring out the DVD. "This. This is the surveillance records from the parking lot cameras at the Shady Rest."

Emma takes her eyes off the road to look at the DVD with new respect. "Yay Shady Rest," she says in a childlike voice of wonder.

"Yay Shady Rest," I echo, the name of our future bowling team.

"So we're free of her?"

"Well, it's a little town, Em, I'm sure we'll see her from time to time. So keep rocks in your purse."

She giggles. I notice she drives past our house.

"Where are we headed, hon?" I ask her.

"Hospital," she answers.

"Oh, no, Emma--"

"I told Danny I was gonna take you to the hospital," she tells me kind of severely, "and I'm no liar. I'm worried about that ankle, and we're going to the hospital if I have to drag you there by your hairy satchel."

As irritating as this is, her concern touches me; I realize she really cares for me, and I decide.

"Okay, Em. But pull over here a minute." She pulls off the road. We get out and I limp to the railing with her help.

Below us are the hockey kids we saw this morning, either still playing or playing again. We watch in silence, listening to the kids play.

"Did he say 'outside'?"

"No, offside."

"What does that mean?"

I show her the rocks placed on the ice, to mark where the blue lines would be, and I explain that the puck must be first across the line or the attacking team can't touch it without the play being whistled down.

"Wow," she says. "That changes the whole game."

"Yes it does." I look at her a long time, and when she notices me staring, she gives me that sunny Emma smile full of fun and daring. And I'm sure.

"Em..."

"Yes, Derf?"

I smile. Derf. It sounds kind of nice coming from her.

"We're invited to this event thing on Halloween. I really want to go, and I hope you do, too."

"Halloween, huh? What's the event?"

"Your wedding," I tell her, and I hold out my mother's engagement ring. "Would you be Mrs Duncan?"

Her hand trembles as she offers her ring finger and I slip the ring on. I see tears dropping to the ice beneath our feet. The ring fits her; she admires it in the light and when she speaks her voice is choked with emotion.

"Like you ever had to ask me."