Blood Red Wine
The summer started spectacularly, with Griffin getting a new job and Fanta finally passing her real estate license exam. They were on the road to new dreams and dramatically improved lifestyles. Dinner parties amped up, with at least one per week. Griffin, a numbers geek, relished these hours away from his computer. He felt like a person and not a human calculator. Fanta loved seeing him in this mode, as his regular habits were decidedly unsexy to her. When he talked about restoring an inherited sailboat and racing in the Fall’s Atlantic Open, Fanta became enamored of him all over again. She enjoyed the mild flirtations that came with the parties and felt more womanly when they were done. A sort of wholeness was the side effect. Griffin and Fanta depended on these parties greatly.
But then, a stranger knocked on their door.
“Hey,” he said to Griffin.
“Mind if I grab a drink? Heard your parties were awesome.”
“Wait. Who are you?”
“Meek. Friend of Layton.”
“Layton Lewis?”
“Yeah.”
“You worked with him?”
“I did until he got me fired.”
Griffin sized up the young man standing in his doorway with a crooked smile showing off a broken front tooth. He was casually dressed with a slightly dangerous vibe. But he was wearing a blue blazer, and that wardrobe decision informed Griffin’s decision to let him into his home.
There was a half bottle of Gnarly Head Zin open on the bar, along with cans of craft beer in an ice bucket. Jeff, Linda, and Fanta watched as Griffin poured Meek a glass of Zin.
“This is Meek. Friend of Layton,” Griffin said to everyone and no one in particular. Fanta seemed particularly annoyed.
“Just decided to pop into a private party, Meek?“
“Yeah, why not?” he said, sipping the free wine.
“I guess you’re lucky my husband’s such a pushover.”
Meek looked at Fanta directly in her eyes. She noticed a startling indifference in him, as if the world could explode any second and he wouldn’t be bothered. This kind of icy cool seemed familiar to her, as she’d been binging true crime podcasts. My husband let a sociopath into our home, she thought. Her next thought was to get a weapon.
“Grif, can I talk to you in the kitchen?”
As they left the room, Meek sat at the table with Jeff and Linda.
“So you know Layton? What’s that piece of shit up to these days?” Jeff asked.
In the kitchen, Fanta didn’t say a thing. She looked at Griffin with her steely, no-nonsense eyes and opened a drawer. She pulled out a small canister of Sabre red pepper gel and placed it in her right palm. “Be careful,” she said to him quietly before rejoining the guests.
Jeff, Linda, and Meek were on the verge of an argument.
“The discretionary policies of public companies? Jeff, you just confirmed to me the pussy that you are. Why even bother living?”
“Should I go to war with every boss I have?”
“Yes,” Meek responded. “Show them who’s boss.”
Jeff looked at Linda. “Do you believe this guy?”
“Meek,” Linda started. “You’re young. The world doesn’t operate that way. Companies would collapse if employees weren’t obedient.”
“See, that’s your problem,” he said, watching Fanta and Griffin return to the room. “My generation sees things differently.”
“Well, that’s your problem,” Fanta said, sitting beside Linda, the Sabre still pressed into her palm.
Griffin continued to stand, unsure of the situation. So unsure that he had to speak up.
“What do you want, Meek?”
Meek slowly turned his head toward Griffin and twirled his empty wine glass.
“How about one of those beers in the ice bucket?”
Griffin, frustrated, got a can of Sierra Nevada and placed it in front of his unwelcome guest.
“See,” Meek said. “Obedience will get you nowhere.”
He opened the beer, took a big gulp, and smirked at everyone.
Griffin stood beside him, feeling insulted and castrated. What happened next was a blur, and happened so fast that everyone was surprised. Especially Fanta, as she stared at the blood streaming down Meek’s face.
“I think you should go,” she said to Linda and Jeff. “It’s better if you’re not here when the police show up.”
Their friends didn’t object and exited the apartment immediately.
As if on cue, a flash of lightning appeared as the door shut. Fanta looked at her husband, still holding the broken wine bottle, and Meek, slumped over their dining table. Survival mode kicked in and a story came from her lips fully formed.
“We tell the police he was an intruder. Simple. He attacked and you hit him with the bottle.”
Griffin looked at her incredulously, processing everything wrong with the scenario.
“There’s no sign of breaking in; our friends saw what happened, and this guy has his own very legitimate story. Also, he should be waking up at any moment.”
Fanta was furious. With her story, they’re not going to jail. She almost screamed at him.
“What should we do, tell the truth?”
Griffin tried to calm her down.
“Look, we need to focus on what happens when he wakes up. Will he want to fight, call the cops on us? We don’t know?”
Fanta, looking smugly at both of them, said, “What if you killed him?”
Griffin was silent.
“Go ahead, check his pulse.”
He stood behind Meek and placed two fingers on his neck. After thirty seconds, he looked at Fanta, worried.
“We have a dead man in our home.”
Fanta began laughing uncontrollably. This went on for minutes and was only drowned out by the low rumble of thunder. Griffin poured himself a Jack Daniel’s. He sat down across from Meek and waited for his wife to stop. Finally, she did.
“You’re such a fucking fool.”
“Why am I a fool, Fanta?”
“Because this guy brought some electricity into our lives and you killed the power.”
Griffin thought about this and suspected that she was right.
“So what should I do?”
Fanta came closer and leaned on the table. She took a long drink of whiskey.
“Well, a real man would fuck me now.”
Fueled by adrenaline, Fanta and Griffin had great sex on the floor. Their animalistic moans were barely covered by the booming thunder, and their passion was as messy and violent as the incident that preceded this collision. When they were satisfied, Fanta found her phone and called the police. The idea of having a felon for a husband turned her on greatly. She couldn’t resist the temptation. Their lives would forever be tainted by tonight, and there’d be no question about its impact on their future.
