All Smiles

Scott had been practicing, timing himself. He can do it all in under two minutes. He can’t have her suspect a thing. It all needs to go smoothly. He smokes the cigarette down to the butt and lights another one. He never smoked a day in his life, but now at 44 he chains smokes. His wife doesn’t know. He sneaks out the back when she is asleep and smokes until she calls for him. She always disliked smokers, said they were disgusting. He smokes now because he likes it and because he hates her. He smokes his cigarettes down to the butt, every time.

It has been 8 months since his wife was diagnosed with cancer. Bad luck, the doctor called it. She was only supposed to live for 6 months. He held off on the divorce partially out of pity, partially for the insurance. He was fine with taking care of her, knowing that she was dying. But the cancer is in remission now, it stopped spreading. Good luck, the doctor called it. Each day she was getting better, he could see it in her. It made him sick. She was supposed to die.

Two weeks ago Scott decided that he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t watch his dreams die. The dreams that kept him going these last 8 months when she shouted for him to get things and not to forget to do that. God he hated her. She never shut up. He wanted to rip her eyes out every time he looked at them. He wanted them to be shut forever. He decided to kill her. Make it look like an accident. An overdose. The wrong combination of pills. It happened to people all the time. He was going to make sure it happened to his wife.

He timed himself, how long it took to get the right pills, crush them and put them in her food. It was a lot of work. He couldn’t make a mistake. It had to be the right amount of pills, the amount she was prescribed. Any extra and it might look suspicious. He was going to give it to her after she took her pain killers. That way she would be relaxed and the food and poison would go down easy. Scott lit another smoke and thought it over again. Half way through his smoke he heard his wife call for him. Her voice made him shudder, made him hate his own name. He put out his smoke and went inside.

‘Tonight,’ he said to himself, ‘I’ll do it tonight.’

He went into the kitchen and poured a glass of iced tea. He sliced up some lemons and plunked them into the glass and carried it upstairs to his wife. When he got to their bedroom door he fixed his face to show a smile and walked in. His wife was sitting up in their bed holding onto the remote.

‘Oh, thank you,’ his wife smiled as he handed her the iced tea. ‘I was just thinking that I would love some iced tea.’ She opened up her arms to him and when he hugged her she whispered in his ear, ‘you’re the best.’ He pulled away and kissed her forehead.

‘I was thinking soup for supper tonight. Any requests’ he asked her.

‘Whatever is easiest for you,’ she smiled and then added, ‘will you eat with me tonight? You have been kind of distant lately.’ She held her smile but Scott could see the concern hiding behind it.

‘Of course I will,’ he smiled wide, ‘I’ll get started right away.’

Scott held his smile until he had shut the door. He walked back down to the kitchen and grabbed a can of tomato soup. He chopped up some chives while the soup warmed up on the stove and then headed back upstairs.

‘Almost ready,’ he said.

‘Great, I am starving.’

‘Did you take your pills? I’ll get them for you.’

He went into the bathroom that adjoined their room. He quickly grabbed the bottles of pills that he needed for the soup. He stuffed them down his underwear and picked up the bottle of pain killers. He handed the bottle to his wife but she didn’t take them.

‘I don’t think I need them tonight. I am not in that much pain, and the doctor said to take them only when I needed to.’

Scott held his smile, ‘well that’s great.’ He turned around and left with the bottle in his hand. He cursed his wife for being difficult as he walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen. He pulled the pills out from in his pants and placed them on the counter. He opened each bottle and took out pills from each, including the pain killers. Sweat poured down his face as he crushed the pills into a fine dust, he worked fast. He grabbed two bowls and poured soup into both. In one he dumped the crushed up pills and topped both with chives. He placed the bowls on a tray and carried them up the stairs.

He rested the tray on his raised knee as he opened the door. He wasn’t ready for what he saw. His wife stood in the middle of their bedroom, naked. She had brushed back the little bit of hair that she hadn’t lost from chemo and put on some makeup.

‘It has been a while,’ she said to him.

She walked over to him and kissed his lips. He returned the kisses quickly.

‘Wow,’ was all he could say.

‘Put the soup down and come to bed.’

He froze for a second, not sure how to respond but then said, ‘how about after we eat? Huh,’ he smiled his biggest smile, ‘you should eat.’

He walked around his wife and put the tray on the bed and handed her a bowl. She smiled back to him, but he could see the hurt.

‘Mmm, smells good.’

Scott grabbed his bowl and started shovelling spoon fools of the soup into his mouth, ignoring the temperature.

His wife starred at him and asked, ‘isn’t that hot?’

He looked down at the half emptied bowl. Then it hit him, it hit him hard. He could feel the drugs already doing their job. His heart pounded in his chest, pumping the drugs even faster through his body. The bowl dropped from his hands and landed on the floor. He watched as the red of the soup spilled on the carpet. His vision went blurry. He grabbed for his chest. The last thing he heard before he heard no more was his wife screaming his name.