Any Day Now

They stroll arm in arm on the darkened, tree-lined street, speaking in hushed tones, laughing sporadically. They’re too absorbed in each other to notice me as I keep pace behind them, slipping silently in and out behind the trunks of the giant elms and remaining just close enough to observe.

They approach a corner, and in the streetlight, I get a better look at her. I see smile lines stemming from her eyes, as she gazes up at him, and gray hair starting at her temples. He expounds on something and waves his right hand for emphasis. He places his left arm around her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. She swings her right arm around the middle of his back and lays her head against his side.

In the second block, they approach a car that I recognize. It’s the one that has occupied a space around the corner from my apartment building, to avoid any connection with me, every Tuesday night for the past twenty months. She looks up at him lovingly as he holds the passenger side door open and gently closes her inside. I can imagine his satisfied expression as he circles the car and takes his place in the driver’s seat.

This is the shrew he’ll leave, just as soon as their daughter graduates—no, wait, she did graduate, months ago. It’s when they sell the house—one that isn’t listed on any known market—that he’ll be free. He’s had enough of her, after all, hasn’t touched her in years.

I finger the vial in my pocket as they drive away.

Tomorrow is our date night. I’ll meet him at the door with our customary cocktails, being careful to hand him the correct old fashioned. It’ll be Wednesday before the methanol takes effect and symptoms present, probably at the office. He’ll no doubt wonder what the trouble is as he doubles over in pain.

By the end of the day he’ll be totally free, just as he promised.