Page 39 of Back for Seconds

“Last night my family’s—”

Family! My eyebrows leaped to my hairline, and I had to focus all my energy on not actually screaming. Family!?

“—vehicle was vandalized.”

I looked up. Brian held up his iPhone over his head, brandishing it like OJ Simpson and his infamous little glove, turning the screen left and right. This was clearly meant to shock us, really just blow our minds, and set the tone for the rest of his presentation. But his screen was dark and dirty.

“We can’t see anything, pal. Your screen’s all greasy,” someone piped up for the middle of the audience. There was a general grumble of agreement.

What a humiliating idiot.

“Um. Hold on.” He fumbled with his phone for a moment, adjusting the brightness and mumbling to himself. Eventually, he gave up and shoved his phone into his pocket. “Never mind. Um, last night, someone spray-painted a word across the side of our minivan.”

He’d already bought a minivan. He was sinking into some suburban fantasy I’d never even known he’d wanted. Made sense, right? You’re not going to bring up minivans with someone you have no intention of filling a minivan with. You’re not going to make big financial investments with your dry-run wife. No, you save that for the real thing.

A thick accented voice cut through my spiral of self-loathing: “What, like bitch or something?”

Brian frowned. “Uh, no.”

“Piss?” someone else called out. “Did they write piss?”

“No…not piss.”

“Cock? Or boobs?”

“No! Nothing like that. They, uh—” Brian paused to clear his throat. A splotchy swath of red was spreading across his neck. He was nervous. I knew that splotch well. Or, I had known it well. I brought my thumbnail to my mouth before remembering I had a fresh manicure and instead stuffed my hands under my armpits. His eyes migrated toward mine for the first time since he’d taken center stage. My breathing became shallow. He looked right at me.

“They spray-painted cheater across my van. In bright red paint.”

Everything went still.

Cheater.

My throat went dry.

“Basically, I’m just looking to understand who did it so we can settle this thing fair and square. I don’t want to involve the cops or insurance companies. All I want is for you to cover the price of removing the paint and repairing the damage, and I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.”

Then he looked away. Back to pretending I didn’t exist. His eyes flitted across the room while he worked anxiously at a rolled up bundle of papers. Those had been notes, just in case.

Everyone shifted under his gaze. The room was cold; somewhere, a door had been left open and the nighttime chill was spilling in, but my face and neck were burning hot with embarrassment. This is why Bruce hadn’t given me any details. He’d rather let me face public humiliation than be forced to have an awkward one-on-one conversation. He’d rather the protracted pain and humiliation of my marital failures play out like this. Like this!

I’d lived in Evergreen my entire life. Hell, Bruce had practically watched me grow up. I’d served him thousands of pizza slices. And yet he couldn’t even give me the grace and dignity of a private conversation?

Bruce was sitting in a folding chair behind Brian, arms crossed over his chest and eyes fixed on the floor. I glared holes into the top of his liver-spotted head.

Then I turned my wrath on Brian.

“Can we just cut to the fucking chase?” I stared at him as hard as possible, willing the tears to stay put in my wide eyes. Brian stared back. He looked angry. How dare he. “I was essentially summoned to this town hall by your fucking lackey—” I pointed at Bruce Jenkins.

“Don’t you curse at me, young lady.”

“—Because you’ve got it in your sick, twisted mind that it was me. That I vandalized your car.”

“June.” Brian said my name the way he’d said it a thousand times—calm, measured, a flare of warning. June, don’t overreact. June, think before you speak. June, remember what we talked about last time.

White-hot rage burned in the center of my chest. “You know what?” I let out a hard, dry laugh. “Never mind. I don’t have to humor this ridiculous situation—let alone stand here and listen to you defame my character.”

His face began rapidly cycling through shades of red and pink. “Then how are we supposed to resolve this?”