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THE HOUSE OF CORRECTION

by Anthony Payne


Jennifer sat watching the storm. Ordinarily, sitting this close to the rain, watching as the droplets of water did their graceful dance down the side of the coffee shop window would have delighted her. But today the beauty of nature that had fascinated her all of her 24 years of life brought her no joy. If anything, the darkness of the skies reflected the gloom she was feeling in her heart.

She probably should have called Megan and cancelled. She certainly wasn't fit to be good company for her friend today. Then again, maybe she needed to talk to someone about this. If there was anyone in Clear Falls that she could unload this burden to, it was Megan.

How, she wondered? How do I tell my best friend, the one I stood beside when she was maid of honour on my wedding day, that the marriage is now on the rocks? How do I drop that bombshell on the table over weekly coffee? Oh my, these muffins are great... by the way Megan, did I tell you that Paul is slowly turning into a huge ass and I'm thinking of leaving him?

She glanced around the coffee shop for any sign of her friend. Except for her and the attendant behind the counter (Susan... Sandra maybe?) the tiny café was empty. She and Megan had purposely chosen mid-mornings for their weekly coffee dates. They had selected this cafe for that specific reason. It gave them a quiet time, that sweet spot after the morning rush of patrons had vacated the tables. While the world's early morning crowd were en-route to their individual office cubicles and construction sites, two friends could casually sit and nibble at sugar- coated pastries and sip endless cups of mocha or latte uninterrupted.

Today Jennifer was early and Megan was nowhere yet to be seen. She was sure now that she should have called Megan to cancel. She returned her stare towards the rain's ballet against the window pane and fell a little deeper into that pit of depression that her heart was digging.

She was still gazing out the window, still well past the rain and into her troubles at home, when her lifelong friend came up behind her. Megan was juggling two cups of French Vanilla and a plate with a couple layers of dark spiced bread that Sandra had called 'pumpkin slice'. She was smiling, assuming Jennifer to be lost in storm. Her friend's love of the rain was something Megan Davis had seen countless times over the course of almost 30 years of companionship.

As the clatter of the coffee mugs being set upon the table brought Jennifer out of her trance, the smile quickly disappeared from Megan's face. She asked a question that she could already clearly see the answer to.

"Jen, are you okay?"

Watching the joy drain out of her friend's expression was the final straw for Jennifer. Any semblance of composure she had hoped to retain vanished and she detonated an emotional outburst. The tears that had been welling in her eyes began to flow.

"No," she replied between sobs and she dropped her head into the palms of her hands. "No, I am so not okay."

Megan moved a chair as near as she could, sat down and pulled Jennifer close to her. For the longest time she simply held her friend, stroked the hair on the back of her head and let Jennifer cry it out.

At some point Sandra appeared from behind the counter with a box of tissues that she quietly set on the table. She looked down and mouthed a question that Megan could easily understand. Her man?

Megan did her best to smile and offered back the same type of silent reply. I think so, to which Sandra shook her head, sighed and returned to her station.

Jennifer's crying eventually subsided to the point where Megan felt comfortable in attempting to engage her in conversation. Jennifer was all too eager to oblige. With the cap off the well, the words she had been holding inside for so long poured out freely. She told Megan about drinking and the money problems. She told her about the disappointments and the nights alone waiting for Paul to finally stumble into the apartment.

"And then last night was the last straw," she said, her words gaining strength as the venting lifted the weight from her shoulders. "Last night was Danny Miller's stag party."

"I know," Megan replied. "Steve went too."

"What time did Steve come home?"

"He was home around eleven."

"Paul promised me he would be home before midnight," Jennifer stated flatly. "He came home this morning around four in the morning... he never even made it to bed. He just passed out on the sofa. He was still there when I left..."

Her words trailed off. Megan reached across the table and wiped the tears from her friend's cheeks. Once again she pulled the other woman close. Again she held her in a silent embrace. Above Jennifer's head, she could see Sandra, who had inadvertently witnessed the entire episode, still behind the counter. The sniffling Jennifer was oblivious to the exchange the other two women were making. After a few seconds of eye contact between them, Sandra firmly nodded her head up and down towards Megan.

Megan calmly pushed Jennifer upright again. For a brief moment she looked her friend up and down as if pondering some monumental decision. Finally she spoke.

"Jen, I need to ask you a simple question or two, and I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?

Jennifer looked for some kind of a sign, some kind of intention, in her friend's face. She saw none. She didn't want to hear Megan tell her she needed to leave Paul.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you can be honest with me, maybe I can help you. Can you do that?"

Jennifer continued with a blank stare for a second before at last answering. "Yeah," she said in a voice barely audible. "I can do that."

"Good. First question: do you still love Paul?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"Second question: does Paul still love you?"

"Yes... I think he does."

"Great!" Megan said, somewhat animated. The smile on her face relieved some of the anxiousness in Jennifer's. "Last question then: if I could show you something that might help, would you give it a try?"

Jennifer again studied her friend, now more than a bit intrigued at where this conversation could possibly be going. "Of course I would Meg. But how? I mean, what could you possibly-"

"Shush." Megan held up a hand cutting Jennifer off in mid-sentence. "No more talking for now. If you want help, I can offer you some. I can show you something that helped Steve and I. But you have to trust me and do what I say. Can you do that?"

Jennifer again fell silent. She thought for a minute about what Megan had said. Maybe more so about Megan's husband, Steve. Steve was about Paul's age, give-or-take a few years. They had been married about the same length of time as she and Paul had been. Only it seemed to Jennifer that they had the perfect marriage. At least compared to hers it was. Steve had worked his way from the stock room to the sales floor of a local auto dealership and had blossomed into one of the firm's top sellers. Steve seemed like the kind of man who put that kind of effort into every aspect of his life... including his relationships. He was the kind of husband who held open doors for his wife and surprised her with bouquets of flowers. He was the kind of husband who came home when he said he was going to.

Jennifer looked back to her friend. Megan was waiting patiently, her smile never wavering from her face. "Okay Meg," she finally replied. "I trust you. Besides, at this point, what have I got to lose?"

Megan ignored the question. Instead she grasped her friends hand and squeezed it gently. "Come on then. I'll pay for the coffee and we can get out of here."

Jennifer let Megan lead away from the table and back towards the counter. They paused and she heard her ask the woman (Sandra, she was sure now that it was Sandra) how much they owed her. The woman only shook her head from side to side in response.

"Don't worry about it," she told Megan before shifting her focus in Jennifer's direction. "Coffee is on me today, ladies. You just make sure you do right by your friend here."

And then Megan was pulling her out the door and into the rain.

The two women walked up the street where Megan ushered Jennifer into her parked SUV. Once inside, Megan shuffled though her purse until she found the item she was looking for, pulling her phone out of the leather bag. As she opened the device and began punching numbers into the keypad, Jennifer once again began her inquiry into what exactly her friend had in mind.

"Meg, what are you talking about?"

And once again Megan held up a hand to quell the question. "Shush... it's ringing," was her reply as she took the phone from her ear, hit the 'speaker' button and set it on the console between them.

Jennifer listened. Almost immediately the ringing was interrupted by a very familiar voice.

"Good morning. Steve Davis speaking."

"Good morning. love," Megan shot back.

"Hey Baby," her husband greeted from the other end of the phone. Jennifer could almost feel the affection evident in his voice. "Did you call just to brighten my day?"

"I called," Megan began, "because the credit card bills came in this morning Steven. I think perhaps we need to have a little chat about them."

There was a silence on the phone. After a few seconds Jennifer heard Steve's voice again. The cheeriness was gone, replaced with what sounded more like apprehension.

"Aw, crap Meg. I'm sorry. It was the golf club dinner, right? I forgot all about that. I meant to tell you... it was late when I got back... and I just forgot. I'm sorry. I think I still have the receipt in my wallet. Can we talk about it tonight?"

"We are going to discuss it at lunch time," Megan responded, using a commanding tone Jennifer was not used to hearing. "I want you home at twelve noon sharp. I will be waiting downstairs for you. Bring my brush... and I would not recommend you be late."

Before her husband could reply, Megan calmly folded the phone closed. As Jennifer sat dumbfounded in the seat beside her, Megan replaced the phone into her purse, retrieved a set of keys and started the engine. As they pulled away from the curve, Jennifer finally found her voice.

"Meg, where are we going?"

"We are going to my place," her friend replied nonchalantly.

"Why? It's getting close to noon now... I thought you were going to talk with Steve?" Jennifer countered.

"Oh, I'm going to give Steve a talking to, all right." Megan chuckled. "And you are going to see exactly why Steve and I have such a happy marriage."


On the other side of town, Morgan Reins was just getting ready to finish something she had started with her husband David less than an hour before.

Putting the finishing touches on the itinerary for the impending weekend had taken just about as long as she suspected it would. Of course, the plans should have, and would have been already complete had David not decided to ignore her instruction to drive the extra few miles to the meat shop down on Main Street to pick up the chicken breasts for Friday night's dinner. No, he had decided that the pre-packaged selection at the strip mall Deli looked just as good.



© Anthony Payne
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.