To make sense of this I recommend you read all the previous chapters of this series if you have not done so already. To start at the beginning, look for a revised collection of Chapters 1, 2 and 3 consolidated into one submission.
As usual, this is a work of fiction and all events, places and people are products of my imagination.
Neighbor 8
The radio alarm came on at six-thirty. They listened to the fact traffic was normal with no traffic hold-ups existing or anticipated and the weather was going to be fine and warm. Gee silenced the radio. Gee cuddled Jim for about five minutes and then moved to the shower.
As the first day back to work after quite a long break, she rose early not wanting to be rushed. Jim shuffled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen where he cooked scrambled eggs with sliced fried tomatoes and bacon. He brewed Gee's favorite coffee and toasted some bread. He set out the plates, knives and forks.
Gee kissed Jim when she saw his efforts. "You are too good for me. Thank you, sweetheart." She tucked into the breakfast meal.
As Jim finished, Gee pulled out her tablet to read the morning news in the New York Times. Jim showered, dressed and saw her off with a kiss, "Call me to let me know how it's going."
Jim heard nothing from Gee during the day. He received a call from DJ asking if he was free to play bridge with him on Wednesday morning. They made the arrangement. DJ threw in the question at the end of their conversation as to whether he had heard anything about the fire at the University. Jim had not received any word from Gee or anyone else.
Jim called a former colleague. He learned that the lovely Library that was housed in the original chapel, which had received an award-winning conversion about twenty years earlier, had been burned to the ground the previous night. Now Jim was really worried about Gee and puzzled as to what had happened. His call went to her mailbox. He tried five times over the course of the next hour with the same result. He rationalized that it was all hands-on deck and there was no time for calls. He waited for Gee to come home.
Jim watched with growing anxiety as the clock slowly crept around to six o'clock. Gee was normally home by four-thirty. He was deeply worried but held on to the fact there was certainly a rational reason she had not called, and she was not taking her calls. He suddenly remembered Wendy, Gee's friend and colleague. They had her number on the land line.
Jim called Wendy. She answered at the first ring. Jim explained Gee was not yet home. He wondered what might have detained her.
Wendy was a bit cautious. "Haven't you heard the library burned down? Early this morning before we arrived there. It was still smoldering badly. The ten of us were gathered into a small lecture room. The head of library services and the President of the university, along with a couple of Deans were there, as well as the Director of Human resources and two of her staff. And, yes, the university lawyer. A meeting started at ten. To summarize, we were all fired on the spot. Of course, it was all wrapped up in admin-speak and there will be severance payments. Very modest ones. We were dumped out of a job. It seems there was clear evidence of arson and it was unlikely there would be any insurance coverage, so a rebuild will be years if not decades away. Jim could hear Wendy break down into sobs."
"Wendy. This is tragic. Do you know what Gee did after the meeting?"
"All I saw was her marching off to her car with her phone in her ear. I thought she'd be calling you." Jim felt poleaxed. "Thank you, Wendy. Take good of yourself." He cut off what might have turned into a long rambling conversation. Wendy lived on her own, widowed.
He called their daughter. But she had not heard anything from Gee. The thought suddenly came to Jim that she maybe had called Patrick, not that he could think of any reason why she should. Jim was sufficiently desperate to call Patrick. He hated the idea of giving Pat the satisfaction of knowing that he did not know his wife's whereabouts. He called Patrick's number. He answered and quite brusquely told Jim that he was in New York, and added, "How the fuck would I know where she is." He hung up.
Jim delved into 411 and found a number for the Old Smyth Farm where Patrick had his studio. The call was answered after what seemed an interminable time to Jim.
"Robin here."
"Jim Germaine. Have you seen my wife?"
"You just missed her. She said she was going home, so she should be there in twenty minutes or so."
With the greatest of willpower, Jim answered politely, "Thanks for your help." He was now seething with anger. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He kept repeating to himself out loud, "What have I done?"
Jim had barely brought himself under control when Gee arrived home. He looked Gee in the eyes just inside the front door. Over-compensating, he whispered in a hardly audible voice, "Where have you been? I've been calling you all day."
Gee should have detected the pleading nature of Jim's simple question, but she didn't. She was in her own world, deaf to the nuances of her husband's hurt. "Did you hear that there was a terrible fire that burned down the library last night? I stayed to help clear up the some of the administration mess. Thought it might help."
Jim could not believe his ears. Of all the reasons this was one he had not expected to be given to him. The lie to his face felt like a dagger through his heart. In that moment he knew his marriage was over. He had killed it.
As gently as he could, Jim asked again, "Where have you been? The truth this time."
Gee hesitated and tried to bluff it out. "I told you." Gee stuck her chin out in defiance.
"Wendy saw you leave in your auto immediately after the meeting, with your phone at your ear. I called you at least ten times and the call went to your mailbox. Robin told me not thirty minutes ago you had just left the studio."
The blood had drained from Gee's face. She improvised. "I was trying to make it a surprise. I managed to get hold of Edward and brought the photoshoot forward, because I was available."
