The night was very warm and I was sweating in my black jeans, knit hat pulled over my short gray hair, and black tennis shoes and socks, but I just couldn't allow the neighbors to see as I climbed into my bedroom window. As I entered the room I noticed there were no lights on in the bathroom or the hallway that the bedroom opened onto.
So far, so good. Tonight will see the end of the eternal instruction/practice sessions my life had turned out to be.
I took a small step toward the king-sized bed my husband and I slept in. The dark hilly curves on top of the bed proved my husband was where he was supposed to be, for a change. I moved stealthily to within touching distance of the man.
The first attempt has to be successful or I'm dead, I thought.
I could feel the cold steel of the .38 tucked into the back of my jeans. It was there for backup. I slowly reached over the sleeping form of my husband and took hold of my pillow, placing it square on his face. There was no danger the pillow would slip out of my sweaty hands. I lay across the pillow, using my 240 pounds to keep the pillow on his face.
Several things registered simultaneously. I felt no struggling, no warmth or hardness, the closet door opened, and the light came on.
Jerking around to see what had happened, my mouth fell open, but no sound came. My husband was standing near the light switch by the closet door with a silly little grin on his face.
"You'll have to do better than that, honey," he drawled.
"How did you know?"
"I'm not a top-notch detective on account of my looks," he said. "I saw you put the Xanex in my coffee and knew you were up to something. I watched you all evening and after we came to bed, I watched you."
"You were just pretending to be asleep," I accused him. "I should have known."
"Well, yes, you should have," he said approaching me with his arms held out in front of him.
I stepped into his warm embrace, lifting my face for his kiss and reaching for the .38.
Just before our lips met, he whispered, "You should always have a backup plan."
I whispered back, "I do," and pulled the trigger.
Included in Short Stories That Kill Time, Copyright 2004, www.lulu.com