The Last Mess

The church was full of people mourning my husband. A good widow would be crying right now, a good wife would be horrified at the thought that she was going to be sleeping alone that night. For me though, it meant that I knew where my husband was, I wasn't worried about him being murdered or worse. It meant that for the first time in my adult life, I wasn't responsible to clean up whatever scandal he happened to get himself in.

"It was just a onetime thing. She came onto me, what was I supposed to say?" Herb had declared after the first of a long list of mistresses. In hindsight I should have left him then and there, but in those days, divorce was quite taboo. "I'm a red blooded man, and I enjoy making love to a woman."

"Don't worry about it, I'll fix the mess." Famous last words that would be repeated many times throughout our marriage.

The priest had called for people to come up to the casket and pay their final respects. All of the shuffling and noise dragged me out of the memory. People were used to me being more stoic, so the lack of tears would not shock anyone. "Candace, are you alright? I'll walk up to the casket with you. I know how difficult this can be."

"Go up there. I will go alone and see my husband. That is the tradition and I will not break it." Some might argue that Michelle had my best interest at heart but my daughter-in-law only ever thought about herself. The fact that she was still in my life, while my son lay in the ground rotting can only be blamed on me. And Herb.

"This one can't be paid off. She won't go quietly into the night like the rest of your whores." I ranted at Herb, while he sipped his scotch. A cigarette hung from his lips. "Why did you have to bring this wench into our lives?"

"I like her. She reminds me of you." I slapped him so hard that the scotch and cigarette fell to the floor. Never had he insulted me so greatly. "What was that for?"

"You know what it was for." I turned my back on him, and briefly thought about letting him handle this situation. Then my eyes fell on a portrait of Daniel, my beloved son. "What if Danny and this bitch get married?"

"Daniel is a..."

"I know that he likes men. But our company cannot withstand that kind of scandal, the marriage would be in name only. And you can continue this sickening affair with her."

Michelle had gone up to the casket and looked back at me. Sometimes I wanted to throttle her, other times all I wanted to do was stab her in the heart. Ever since Herb fell ill, she had been fighting to take over HW Enterprises. In every attempt she had failed, because I would not let her succeed.

The most recent attempt had been days before the funeral. She figured that since Herb had died and I was mourning, it would be the perfect time to takeover. What she didn't know was that I was fighting to preserve the Woodward legacy. And nothing would stop me from that.

Herb had come to bed, presumably after he finished his night with Michelle. The silence that lay over the house was shattered by the sound of a gunshot. I ran downstairs and found my Daniel lying in a pool of blood. His wife, stood in the bedroom doorway with a gun in her hand.

"Do exactly as I say." She nodded her head. "Give me the gun and go back to bed. If anyone asks Daniel was despondent because you were unable to conceive another child."

Being as rich and powerful as we were, the rumors made the rounds. For the most part, I was able to keep Herb out of the story and did my best to protect Daniel. When his will was read, Michelle was left with nothing. In order to keep the scandal to a minimum, I kept her as part of the family and we made appearances together every week.

For years after Daniel's death, Herb and I only spoke when we were in public. In my grief I blamed him for introducing Michelle into our lives and causing the death of our son. Then one day, he came to me with tears in his eyes and told me that he was dying.

In an instant, the anger fell from me. We hugged each other and for the first time in our marriage Herb cried. After that we worked together to find a cure but to no avail. During the final weeks, he complained of the pain often.

"I wish death would just come to get me," Herb said on what would be his final day. His hospital bed made him seem even more frail than he was.

"It will my love. You do know that everything I have done, and will do is because I love you. I have always loved you and wished that you would love me the same way." Tears fell down my cheeks. With a trembling hand, I pulled the plug to his oxygen machine. "I love you forever and always."

"Thank you, my dear. You were always more than a wife to me. You were my best friend. Thank you for always cleaning up my messes." He took his last breath, and entered the afterlife. I sat in his room and allowed myself to cry for the man that I had pledged to dance with until love ended.

"Through all of the ups and downs, I loved you Herb. Even your death was orchestrated by me. Now our tango is over and I have no idea what the future holds. After 50 years what am I to do with myself?"
For the first time, I had no messes to clean.