Weapons of Mass Deception

CHAPTER 33

Liz sliced the packing tape on the last box.

Finally! Her favorite Chemex coffeepot was at the top of the box, swaddled in bubble wrap. She looked at the side of the box; the label said “books.” She let out a snort. So much for the government move.

She added the empty box to the pile by the door that needed to be flattened and taken downstairs to the recycling bin. Liz carefully placed the coffeepot on the counter next to the sink, amid the sea of cups and plates she had yet to put away. It occurred to her that James had always done the organizing whenever they moved… and he wasn’t here this time. She looked around the cluttered counters; this was all her responsibility now.

Be careful what you wish for, girl. It might come true.

She hadn’t really fallen out of love, she was just never really in love with James in the first place. She cared for him — that was the truth — but it was more like the way you cared for your brother.

Liz had begun looking into a transfer over six months ago, before she’d even decided she was leaving James. Almost as if she was creating an excuse to leave him. Her personnel officer had shown her some great assignments — Hawaii, Florida, DC — but she chose Minneapolis.

When she’d finally told James, he was… well, he was James. Kind, understanding, gentle, rational. And all of a sudden she was the one who was crying and emotional and all the things she wasn’t.

He’d held her in that way he had, with just the right amount of tightness around her shoulders, and she fit her face into the crook of his neck. At that moment, she knew she was leaving him for good. Not because he wasn’t right for her, but because he was too good for her. He deserved better than she was able to give him — than she’d ever be able to give him.

Liz left that night. She just threw a pile of clothes in a suitcase and drove until the sky grew light in the east and she could barely keep her eyes open. She pulled into a rest stop in Utah and slept for a few hours, then she drove some more.

She made it to Minneapolis on the morning of the second day, a Sunday. The city sweltered under a summer sun and the humidity clung to her skin when she left the car. The sign said Lake Calhoun, and a fair number of early morning runners were out on the paved trail around the lake. Somewhere on the car trip she’d switched into shorts and a T-shirt. She rooted through the trunk until she found a pair of running shoes and laced them on her feet.

The coffee and hot dog she’d gotten from a gas station in Iowa a few hours ago made a solid lump in her stomach, but she ignored it. As she found her pace among the runners, her breathing evened out and she broke into a free sweat.

The trail was paved, flat and fast. Liz ran hard, letting the grime of the last day’s ride in the car slicken on her skin. The trail split, and she followed the arrow that pointed to Lake Harriet.

When Liz returned to her BMW an hour later, she was drenched in sweat, had a stitch in her side, and was happier than she’d been in months.

She pulled a toiletry kit and a fresh change of light clothes from the trunk and headed across the street to a storefront labeled Calhoun Beach Athletic Club. The AC raised gooseflesh on her arms as she approached the desk. The kid behind the desk stood up, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, may I see your membership, please?’

Liz realized she looked like a wreck. “Good morning…” She focused on his nametag. “Aaron. I’m new in town and was hoping to use your shower.”

Aaron colored. “Sorry, ma’am, this is a members-only club—”

“Who can I talk to about getting a membership?”

Aaron glanced at the clock. “They don’t get in for another hour on Sundays, ma’am.”

Liz put out her hand. “I’m Liz, Aaron, and I’d like to buy a membership here — the most expensive membership you offer — but I need a shower first. I need one now. Can you help me out?”

“Well, if you’re a prospective member, I could give you a guest pass…”

“Now we’re talking, Aaron.”

Just as the run around Lake Calhoun had been somehow cleansing for her spirit, the shower did the same for her body. She let the warm water cascade over her as she scrubbed her skin clean — clean of her failed marriage, clean of the two-day drive, clean of the sweat from her run. Liz dressed in a light cotton blouse, a short print skirt, and sandals. As she stood in front of the mirror brushing her hair, her wedding ring glinted in the reflection. It was a plain gold band, the one she’d insisted that James give her. His plan had been a diamond-encrusted affair to match her massive engagement ring, but she’d put her foot down. Liz only wore two pieces of jewelry on her fingers: her Academy ring and the plain gold band.

She slipped off the wedding ring and left it in her toiletry kit.

On the walk back through the lobby, she noticed a bulletin board with a FOR RENT posting. Two-bedroom apartment, top floor, view of Lake Calhoun.

“What’s the address here, Aaron?”

Aaron had been eyeing her legs behind the desk and he gave a start when she called his name.

“Umm… 2750 Lake Street.”

Liz tapped the advertisement. “So this apartment is the top floor of this building?”

Aaron nodded. Liz pulled the page off the bulletin board. Aaron opened his mouth to stop her, but she held up a hand. “Relax, Aaron, it’s off the market. I just rented it.”

Liz sighed as she pulled a bottle of Chardonnay out of the fridge. At least she had wineglasses now. She hunted through the mess of kitchen items until she found the one she wanted and rinsed it out before filling it with wine.

Glass in hand, she stepped onto the balcony and sank into a chair. After the arid atmosphere of LA, the steamy heat of a Minneapolis summer felt luxurious on her skin. White triangles of sails dotted the lake and the shores were crowded with families, couples, lovers… everyone seemed to have someone this holiday evening.

She sipped the wine, letting the crisp sweetness linger on her tongue. Everyone but me, that is.

Maybe she’d go sailing tomorrow. That would be something to occupy her time. She hadn’t been on the water since the Academy — had it been that long? A smile curled her lips when she thought about Mark and Don. And Brendan.

Brendan… what was he doing now? That whole job at the naval station in Annapolis — what a joke! It had to be some sort of classified project, but he really was working on a sailboat, so that didn’t add up either. And now, according to Don, he was deployed somewhere.

She should have called him after the dinner at Marjorie’s. Just having him that close again made her realize what she’d given up, how badly she’d messed up her life — and James’s. If her husband hadn’t called at that moment, who knows what she would have done.

What was the saying? The truth shall set you free…

That night at Marjorie’s was the first time she’d ever said the truth out loud: James was a good man, but she didn’t love him.

Brendan had every right to be disgusted with her. She’d created this mess in the first place, and she knew she should respect his unwillingness to get involved with a married woman.

She stilled her thoughts and put her feet up on the balcony railing.

I’m here, Bren. And I won’t make the same mistake twice.