The Perfect Husband Read Free

fingertips into the pool. He'd dreamed of owning a pool like this most of his life. He half-hated it.
    “Sir?”
    “Vincent always thinks it's important.”
    “He refuses to hang up, sir.” Freddie placed the phone on the patio. His indignant sniff indicated what he thought of Vincent. J.T. rolled over on his back. Neither Freddie nor the phone appeared to be willing to go away.
    Grudgingly he lifted the receiver. “I'm retired, Vincent.”
    “No kidding, old man.” Vincent's booming voice made J.T. clutch his forehead. “I got a live one for you, Dillon. Right up your alley.”
    “It's the thirteenth.”
    “All over half the globe.”
    “I don't take calls until the fourteenth, and I don't take your calls any day. I'm retired.”
    “Dillon, wait till you hear about the money—”
    “I don't need money.”
    “Everyone needs money.”
    “I don't need money. I don't need business. I'm out. Good-bye.”
    “Hey, hey, hey! Hold on! Come on, J.T. Hear me out, for old time's sake. Listen, I met this woman. She's really terrific—”
    “Good fuck?”
    “That's not what I meant—”
    “Blond probably. You always were a sucker for blondes.”
    “J.T., buddy, don't be such an ass. I wouldn't have called you about just anyone — I know you're retired. But this woman needs help. I mean, she
needs
help.”
    “Yeah? Grab a phone book, look up St. Jude, dial the number. If anyone answers, let me know. I might try dialing it myself someday. Bye.”
    “J.T.—”
    “I don't care.” J.T. hung up the phone. Freddie was still standing there. A bead of sweat traced his upper lip. J.T. shook his head.
    “What were you so worried about?” he chided his manservant. “That I'd say yes? That I'd give up all this for a thirty-second adrenaline rush? Freddie, I thought we knew each other better than that.”
    “I'll bring you another margarita, sir.”
    “Yeah, Freddie. We understand each other just fine.”
    J.T. let his head fall back against the heat-proofed patio. The sun pierced his eyelids until he could see the red veins zigzagging his flesh.
    Freddie reappeared with a salt-rimmed glass and set it by J.T.'s head.
    “Freddie?” J.T. said.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Let another call come through, and I will fire you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Even if it's the colonel, Freddie. Do you understand?”
    “Of course, sir.”
    “Good.”
    Freddie pivoted sharply and left; J.T. didn't bother to watch.
    He tipped into the pool fully clothed. He sank all the way down. He didn't fight it, he'd never had to fight water. From the beginning, Marion had been able to do anything on a horse and J.T. had been able to anything underwater.
    His feet touched bottom. He opened his eyes and surveyed his kingdom, the sides of the pool formed by jutting red stone, the bottom that looked like strewn sapphires.
    The tickling started in the base of his throat, the instinctive need to breathe. He didn't fight that either. He accepted it. The need, the panic, the fear. Underwater, he could accept anything. Underwater, the world finally made sense to him.
    He ticked off the seconds in his mind, and the tickling in his throat grew to full-fledged choking.
Don't fight it, don't fight. Ease into the burn
. He passed the two-minute mark. Once he'd been capable of four, but that wouldn't happen today.
    Two minutes forty-five seconds. That was it. He rocketed to the top. He broke water with a furious gasp, swallowing four gulps of air at once. His jeans and T-shirt were plastered to his skin, the tom-toms pounded against his head.
    The memories were still in his mind. Rachel and Teddy. Laughing. Smiling. Screaming. Dying.
    Every year he had his bender. Five days of remembering what he couldn't stand to forget.
    Five days of blackness rolling over him like a fog and choking out the light.
    After a minute he began to swim. Then he swam some more. Above him the air was dry, and the crickets began to sing as the sky turned bloodred.
     
     
    “ARE YOU