“What mixture?”
“The tea, Val, the tea. What else would I be mixing?” My blood pressure rises and I feel it rushing through my veins. I reach for the bottle almost knocking it over and pour myself another glass of wine. My hands tremble. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Like a woman who doesn't know what the heck is going on around here. Like a woman who doesn’t know who or what to believe… yeah, that would be me.” She shifts in her seat, and everything is blurry. “So let me get this straight,” she huffs. “You already knew Conchita, before we arrived here?”
“Yes.”
“And your ex knew Conchita too.”
“Yes,” a stab of pain slashes the side of my head.
“And this tea business is not new. You and Conchita have been brewing things up for a while now.”
I nod while massaging the sides of my temples.
“And you had a fight with your ex who was drinking the tea.”
“She went crazy! She went crazy from drinking the tea.” Leaping from my seat, the chair tips over as I stumble.
“I told you she was prodding me. She was jealous. She was jealous of everything, of me, of my tea, of my relationship with Conchita. She wanted to be the one who created the tea.”
I watch Val lift the chair off the ground and put it back in its place. Why is she doing it in slow motion?
“She started mixing her own blends, her own mishmash of herbs and flowers. I didn’t know about it and she didn’t know what she was doing.” I stop for a moment to catch my breath. “She wanted to prove she could do it better, better than everyone else.” My head is pounding so loudly I guzzle the rest of my wine.
“Easy on the wine, David,” I hear her say. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“You know, for once you’re right. I don’t feel so good. I need to lie down.” I stagger into the living room and fall onto the futon. I watch as the ceiling fan goes round and round, making me dizzy. My body feels weak and everything is hazy.
“I didn’t kill her,” I whisper.
“What? What did you say?” Val’s voice is muffled and she sounds far away.
“She pushed me. She was always pushing my buttons. But that day, she pushed me to the edge, so I pushed back.” I feel myself fading.
“Maybe I pushed,” I muster a breath, “a little too far…”
39
Valerie
He pushed her during an argument. He said he didn’t kill her but she’s dead.
I stood there frozen, my stomach roiling in fear as I stared at David out cold on the futon. I watched as his chest rose slightly, up and then down, making sure he was breathing… making sure he was still alive.
After hearing his confession before he passed out, it was time to get out of there. But my body felt heavy, weighed down with so much grief for both of us. I had to leave the man I loved, a man whose ex-wife, accident or not, was dead.
I went into the bedroom, swung open the closet doors, and grabbed a suitcase. As I stood there throwing my clothes on the bed, my heart ached but the voice inside my head screamed. Get out now! After stuffing my clothes in the suitcase, I gathered my items from the bathroom counter, tossing them in my bag.
I needed to get out of the house quickly before David woke up. If I stayed, I wouldn’t have known what to say or do. Even worse, I may never have had the chance to leave. Reaching for my phone, I called a taxi and then went to the kitchen to pack Max’s things. He was my dog, after all, and I had promised I’d always take care of him. He’d have a much better life with me not tied to a dog run for umpteen hours a day.
I softly padded over to David one last time to check on him. Snoring away, he had changed positions and I figured he'd be waking up soon. I left him a note on the counter to say goodbye.
With my bags in hand, I went outside, propping them by the door while I rushed over to the dog house David had built. Max heard me and came out of his house, wagging his tail, excited to see me. I was so happy to see him and even happier when I untied him from the run for the last time.
Max was soon by my side trotting along as I strolled down the driveway, the wheels on my suitcase bouncing along the gravel. Although I was leaving the house, I hadn’t planned on leaving Costa Rica. There was no way I was going back to Vegas, that was for sure. I remembered seeing a help wanted sign posted the last time I was in town. A new hotel was opening up by the beach and they were hiring servers and bartenders. The sign had read, debe hablar inglés, must speak English. I figured Max and I could find a little place and run around barefoot in the sand. Live that simple, carefree life I had once dreamed about long ago.
Halfway to the road, I spotted a colorful butterfly sitting on a leaf. I stopped to look at it but it didn’t even move. It was as if it was watching me or wanted to be noticed.
Its vibrant colors made me think of the flowers David had sent to me at the hotel. Red-tipped yellow roses—for happiness, friendship, and new beginnings. Tears pricked my eyes and I momentarily thought of turning around. I thought back to the room I stayed in at Villa Manuela on my first trip with David to Costa Rica. The lovely room with the bright yellow décor. I have so many memories of our vacation.
Then I remembered the little yellow bird I had found at the house
