Eilene’s perfectly coifed bouffant stood up against even the wind that was blowing in the woods. A classic look called for a classic outfit. She loved her dress with its A-line skirt and fitted waist. It felt like she was transformed to the 50s. She loved the fashion sense those women had. They had so much style.
“Eilene…you don’t want to do this,” Jim’s voice was like a gnat buzzing around her ear. She’d decided this holiday season was going to end differently. Ever since she’d gone to the holiday party- Holiday party, why didn’t people just say Christmas for crying out loud? Can’t good Christians have anything?– at the law firm, she’d known things would be taking a turn. She also knew he wouldn’t be making it for partner any time soon.
“Jim, darling, do be a dear, and shut your mouth,” she said with a smile. She was wearing a bright red lipstick that was perfect for the Christmas season. It was one of those newer lip stains that didn’t smudge or smear. Remarkable!
If that harlot would’ve been wearing it, Eilene wouldn’t have noticed her lipstick on front of Jim’s boxers. At least it wasn’t as clichéd as his collar. She knew it wasn’t her color. She would never wear something as vulgar as a plum. Simple out of order, that slut was.
At the office party, everyone has seemed so quiet when she walked in. They’d all known and as such they hadn’t been expecting her. A party certainly wasn’t any fun without a surprise. And she was always so much fun at parties.
“Honey, I’m under the mistletoe,” she’d said, smiling at Jim.
He’d shaken his head at her, “Just go home Eilene. You can leave the cookies. George loves those cookies, isn’t that right George?” And he’d given a chuckle and a wink at one of the partners. The man had nodded back stiffly. Jim was always too much of a fool to see who really liked him.
And who was his enemy wait for his next stumble. There was never a long wait.
Eilene stood over the roasting fire, soot clung to the bottom of her gingham apron. She’d unthinkingly wiped her hands on it earlier. Now it was stained. Club soda wouldn’t take out that stained. Now there was brownish flaking hand smears running down the front.
This was her favorite too one. Ruined about cause of that stupid bitch. Her teeth clenched and she would’ve stabbed her again, if she wasn’t already burning in the fire. She’d splashed her with some of Jim’s propane that he had collecting dust in their hallway closet. No matter how many times she’d asked him to move it to the basement. It was as though he couldn’t be bothered with anything that involved her.
It’s only premeditation if she’s caught.
She backed away from the fire pit, looking all around. The snow had really helped her today, laying down thick layers blanketing the sounds and the prints. She leaned down and laced up Jim’s snow boots. He always did love these things. They were part of his “Mountaineer Trekker” outfit. He didn’t actually like mountain climbing or camping. He just liked to look the part.
“Lene…sweetheart…you don’t have to do this. We. Can. Work. It. Out,” his voice was so thread and weak. It was just like him to try to sweet talk her now. Like there was any going back. Things had happened today. Words had been exchanged that couldn’t be taken back. Blood was on her good apron!
She had been so glad for the heater still working in her second hand car, when she waited for him and his whore to pull out of the parking garage in his brand new Mercedes. She knew they’d be going to their little get away. The lakehouse. Very picturesque this time of year.
He never seemed to have time to take her in the past. Imagine her surprise when Eilene had decided to clean a bit for the winter- you never could trust those maid services to do it right– and to find a tube of lipstick in that same lip color. Plum And lingerie that certain didn’t suit her more classic looks. She’d known then that she needed to bring the sanctity back to her marriage.
“Do you know darling?” Eilene turned and took a good look at him laid against the log. He was so groggy from the drugs she’d slipped in his coffee a few hours ago. Perfect to his demands. Just like his eggs benedict and his English muffin. He’d ordered a service to bring them their meals in her bed. HER BED.
She kicked the girls foot causing embers to shoot into the sky. It smelled vaguely of bacon. Had she eaten breakfast today? “This could’ve all been avoided. I just wanted you to honor your vows. Is that too much to ask?”
She glanced at the fire again, adding another log to it. Once she was done here, she’d make sure to put out the fire so the animals would have something to eat. No need to waste the meat, just because it wasn’t to her taste.
“You’re so unbelievably predictable, Jim. You made things so easy,” she laughed. The sound sliced the air; sent a flock of birds flying from the trees nearby. They must have been crows attracted to the smell, but not to her, she thought.
He’d gone to the lakehouse. And the girl had gone in with him. And Eilene had been waiting for them. She’d parked on the other side of the lake, and headed through the woods where she wouldn’t be seen. Wearing his boots. The girl hadn’t had a chance to scream. Eilene was thorough and never was afraid of a little hard work. To get a little dirty.
“Eilene. You have to stop this. You have to-“
She turned quickly, her dress’s silhouette flowing around her. She smiled again, “I’m sorry darling, I don’t think you understand the situation here. I don’t have to do anything. Nothing. You reap what you sow mister.” She laughed a little, “And you’ve been sowing her for how long?”
She took one step toward him. And then another. His eyes widened looking down at her chef’s knife and where it was pointed.
“Merry Christmas, Jim,” she said.
This is my addition to the #writestuff short story prompt for the month. If you’re interested in putting your own spin on it, check out the prompt here. This was a fun one to write, very cathartic. I think this would make a fine addition to an anthology.