She stood like a Naked Valkyrie Brandishing Her Trophy
Please note: Agatha Christie, as far as I know, despite her writings about murder was not herself a murderer, nor did she hope to inspire persons to commit murder. Like her stuff, this is fiction. These are not real people. Hopefully it's good entertainment.
I would like to thank Cabolover for editing this story. It is better for his efforts
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I'm a general contractor specializing in building custom homes, and old house restoration. My reputation is for knowing craftsmanship and the people who can do fine work. I use to do a lot of it myself, but being boss pays better. Even if I don't so much do physical work on the job sites anymore, my home is different matter. I have a problem hiring people to work on my own house, so I end up doing nearly all of it myself. Anyway, my job of general contractor/design consultant is fun, rarely requires overnight travel, and has resulted in me having time to do most of the cooking at home, which I enjoy, and being there for my two daughters.
After struggling for some years in various capacities as a lower level peon in Internet advertising, Wifey took time off to raise our two children. It was tough for her not having many adult conversations during the day, but when the youngest started first grade, she started looking for work. It was spirit crushing, sending out resumes, and hardly ever getting even an acknowledgment. It took almost a year to find what she was looking for. She got a job with a small food company, Great Gherkins It's a 'Jewish' deli wholesale supply company, run by a couple of Scandinavians who are as close to being Jewish as I am a relative of Paris Hilton.
To say she loved her job would be an understatement. She apparently breathed new life into the company, and while she worked hard, she was changing the way they did business and happy as a clam at the same time. She was eager to get to work in the morning, and come home after a ten-hour day dead tired, but humming a tune. Her laughter filled my life. Promotions came, one after the other, and she began to travel quite a lot. We started with her emailing her full itinerary, the whole package so we knew where she was, hotel, car rental, etc. I made it a geography lesson with the girls, and taught them phone skills, calling the hotels and connecting with Mommy through the desk clerk.
On the second or third trip, I forget which; she came back from San Francisco with presents for the children. She was clearly exhausted, so after supper, I gave the girls their bath, and came down to interrupt her from her computer.
"Story time."
She heaved a sigh, and asked;
"Would you put them to bed and read them their story. I have to catch up on my e-mails. ."
"Of course. If they ask why Mommy isn't reading their story now that she's home, how do you want me to answer them?"
"What?"
"Shall I tell them 'Mommy can't snuggle with them while she reads their story because she has to take care of her e-mails? Maybe you could suggest some other way to put it?"
She looked stunned for a moment:
"Chris! Thank you for the dope slap! I apologize and I'm embarrassed that I needed one."
She called upstairs:
"Are you ready? Teeth brushed? Here I come!"
Childish giggles echoed down the stairs. Half an hour later she came down stairs, and I handed her a glass of wine.
"You feel guilty about leaving them?"
"Yes I do. It hurts a lot. How did you know?"
"Well, I guess I'd feel the same way, but in the future, and I am saying this with love and respect, don't bring home presents to assuage your guilt. You can't buy love, and I don't want to be the one who raises them and disciplines them all week, and have Santa Clause visit us on the weekends."
"Humph! I guess I have to learn how to travel, don't I?"
Yup. I can hold down the fort, as long as you come back to me. And while we're on the subject, I'd rather you do your company work on Saturday or Sunday during the day. Evenings are family time."
We worked it out. While I would rather have her home more, frankly we both enjoy it.
She gets away from the house and kids for a few days, and I get to spend time with my children. For example, this evening we had a grand time staying up past their bedtimes. They were filthy from playing all day and at bath time; there was a gentle summer rain. I joked:
"You guys are too dirty to put in the bathtub! I'll never get the tub clean"
"We have to have a bath, dad! What else could we do?"
"You should go outside in the rain and rinse off!"
"We can't go outside without our cloths on!"
"Of course not gooses, you need to wear your underpants!"
With a shout of glee, the three of us ran around outside into the rain, jumping and rolling in wet grass and mud puddles, with no one getting upset. We were laughing and having a good time, while the wife was in Miami sweating bullets in the heat.
About a month later, in the dog days of August, I noticed the joy seemed to have gone out of her work. I asked her about it, and whereas she usually told me endlessly long stories about work, she simply said the going is getting tough right now, some people were opposing her, but she had it under control and heads would roll. I felt sorry for anyone on her wrong side. Her sister once observed that even as a kid, anyone who was between Susan and what she wanted was in trouble. She was right. Susan will go after what she wants with single minded devotion, no holds barred. She would let nothing and I mean nothing get in her way. If she wanted it she was driven to get it!
This September there was a big deal sort of trip. She was going to her company's sales meeting over on the New Jersey shore, in Absecon, and her presentation was the key to the corporation's new marketing strategy. I figured the stress and tension about the program she was introducing was the reason for her tense behavior at home. The company had been sliding down the tubes for years, and the wife had studied the problem, laid out a plan to a few executives and they loved it...grabbed it like the life preserver it was. Trial implementation in one market area had resulted in a significant upturn in both sales and profits.
This presentation was hers and hers alone, and won her promotion to marketing VP even though some asshole was trying unsuccessfully to claim the credit. She'd been working on it for weeks and was justly proud of it. Great Gherkin is also, by necessity, a cheap company, so the sales meeting was at a vacation hotel in the off season, started at 2 PM Sunday, and ended Tuesday at 3 pm. These hours ensure the employees mostly travel on their own time. In fairness, as I said, the company's been doing poorly and needs to hold down costs. From what the wife says, extending her marketing program across the board and the departure of a couple of managers is their principle hope for turning the company around. She may be exaggerating a bit, but probably not much.
Absecon New Jersey is only a couple of hours away for us, so she was hitching a ride with a couple of her co workers. Most of the other people were flying in from all over. For once, the kids were spending the weekend at my in-law's house, and we had the prospect of a suitably romantic Saturday night. Sunday I was going to work on the room addition I'm putting on the house and then pick up my daughters just before bedtime Sunday evening.
It didn't happen. That night she had stomach cramps and diarrhea which ended the romance part before it began, she was up half the night and the next morning vomiting. She had been stressed to the max; the turnaround had put an enormous strain on her these last few weeks. She looked terrible that morning, but insisted it was just nerves and was going to the conference anyway. At 11 AM her ride pulled up in front and tooted their horn, I kissed her goodbye, carried her suitcase to the car, told the driver, Natalie, to drive carefully, and sent her on her way.
