The Sweetest Revenge Read Online Free PDF

the
chenille spread up to her chin in a desperate attempt to hide her
nakedness, her dark hair falling across her shocked face, Jim’s
naked body beside her, his white butt like a cleaved moon.

Chapter
Six

    On my second day of spring break,
I stripped the bed in the spare room where I had found Jim and
Kimberly and put everything, including the pillows, in a large
plastic bag. I even put my grandmother’s chenille spread in the bag
because it was tainted and I could never look at it again. I hated
Jim for that. I carried the plastic bag to the trash.
    Then I lugged the mattress down
the stairs and out the front door. That wasn’t easy to do. The
mattress kept falling over. Finally, I dragged it across the front
yard and set it on the curb. I went back inside and pulled the box
springs out. That was easier than the mattress because it was stiff.
My rage at Jim helped me drag it along to the street.
    The bed itself was on a metal bed
frame and had no headboard or footboard. I unscrewed the screws from
the frame and, piece by piece, carried the frame to the curb. That
was all I could do. I couldn’t put the spare room on the curb, but
I would have if I could have. I went back up the stairs and closed
the door to the spare room. I would have to figure it out later.
    My heart was beating hard as the
adrenaline pumped through me. I wasn’t through yet. I went to Jim’s
closet and pulled all of his clothes out onto the bed. I emptied his
dresser of underwear, T-shirts, and socks. I put everything into
plastic lawn bags and drug them downstairs. I put them in the car
trunk and drove downtown.
    When I was in front of Jim’s
building, I texted him. “I’ve got your clothes down here,” I
wrote. “You can come get them because they’re going on the
sidewalk.”
    I didn’t wait for a reply. I
lugged the bags out of the trunk and sat them on the sidewalk in
front of Jim’s building. I was pulling away when I saw Jim coming
out the front doors.
    And then I went home, depleted. I
had done what I could.
    I spent the rest of spring break
sleeping late, staying up late to watch movies, sleeping late again.
I wandered through the house during the day, taking note of all the
things that needed to be done. The entire house could use a paint
job, for example. One of the kitchen cabinet doors didn’t latch
properly anymore. The patio had developed a crack that seemed to be
getting larger every day. The landscaping was overgrown. The roof was
looking worn and leaked in the laundry room. The house was falling
down from neglect! One of its owners had been eating herself to a
level of fat she had never envisioned and the other owner was
immersing himself in his job and his mistress.
    Even though I was on spring break
and could eat anytime I wanted to, I didn’t. My appetite never came
back that week and I subsisted on toast and scrambled eggs. Once, I
made myself a hamburger but could only finish half of it. I didn’t
deny myself the wine, and I drank three bottles of chardonnay during
that week.
    And then it was Monday and time
to go back to work. When I forced myself out of bed that morning, I
realized that it had been a wasted break. I had accomplished nothing.
I had been nowhere interesting. I had just watched TV and slept. I
felt dejected as I pulled my black suit out of the closet.
    I felt dejected as I pulled the
zipper up on the pants, expecting to force it as I always did. But
the zipper slid up its track easily. I looked at myself in the
mirror. My hips and stomach looked smaller. I pulled on the white
tank top that squeezed around my stomach, but it slid on smoothly.
The jacket, which always felt tight around the arms, felt relaxed and
comfortable. I had lost weight!
    Feeling confident, I chose
low-heeled black shoes, which I hadn’t worn in a year. I felt so
good, that I bothered to apply some make-up and lipstick for the
first time in forever. There wasn’t much I could do with my hair
without being late, so I pulled it