The Stranger
By: Kennedy Webb
Tags: Death, Scandal, Mystery, Ghosts, Cheating

Recently, I’ve enjoyed starting my day with a brisk walk around my neighborhood. The gentle breeze and crisp November air were always the highlight of my day. For 27 years I’ve been a resident of Fair Springs, an upper-class subdivision with its own golf course. It was perfect for Jerry and I up until his passing ten months ago. Since then, little things have begun to show up that are out of the ordinary.

. The first time something like this happened was nine days after his passing. I was in the sitting room, enjoying the natural light which beamed in through the open windows. My daughter, Kara, was getting ready to return to her college campus. It was a five hour drive, so I insisted she mustn’t keep me company any longer. Kara was worried that I would get lonely without her father being around, but I knew I’d be fine. As I sat staring out the window, I waved goodbye to my darling little girl, while she pulled out of our cobblestone drive.

. Soon, she had turned the corner at the end of the street and was out of sight. Suddenly, a black Mercedes passed right in front of my house. It was exactly like Jerry’s car — the one he wrecked. I looked at the driver to see if maybe one of my neighbors had gotten a new car. Behind the steering wheel was a figure with a dark hoodie on and pale white hands that I could see even through the intense window tint. The car drove slowly, almost creeping down the street, until it got to my house. I stood curiously waiting to see what the driver was going to do next. They pulled into the drive.

. My hands shook; I was frozen in fear. It felt like my feet were stuck to the ground, while my heart was running a marathon. I tried to see the drivers face, but he wore dark aviator sunglasses and a face mask. It was impossible to make out any of his facial features. However, I did notice one thing: a white gold class ring on his middle finger. Now, normally this wouldn’t be anything important, but my darling Jerry wore a ring just like that. He always insisted on putting it on his middle finger because he wanted his “favorite finger” to be decorated.

. My heart stopped. For a second it was as if he was back, and was only gone on a work trip. I snapped out of it. The driver continued to pull forward around the loop, and eventually turned back onto the main road. I brushed it off. I never told anyone about this out of fear I’d be called insane. I convinced myself it was just a potential buyer driving through the neighborhood, checking out the houses.

. Events like this continued to happen. Just last month, I received a knock at my door. When I went to open it, a familiar figure stood waiting. She was about my height, twenty years younger, and had bright blonde hair. She gazed at me. I was stunned with her youthful, brown eyes. I saw my own daughter in her.

. “Oh, I must have the wrong house” she said as she pulled the envelope in her hands behind her back.

. “Well, who are you looking for? Maybe I can help” I replied.

. “Jerry Vaconni.”

. “You have the right place dear. Unfortunately, he passed away a few months ago. How’d you know him again?” I asked as if I hadn’t seen all of their conversations that he tried to hide from me for nearly a year. I was good at acting dumb, so she bought that I had no clue who she was.

. “Wait, but I spoke with him on the phone last night” she answered puzzled.

. “Catfish maybe? I’m sorry honey, but I’ve really got to get back to my business meeting if you don’t mind.”

. “Oh, no you’re fine. I’m sorry to bother you. I think this belongs to you though. I just didn’t feel right taking it” she said, handing me the envelope that was hidden behind her back.

. “Thank you, now you have a great day” I replied as I closed the door. Once it was shut, I tore open the envelope. It was a check for $20,000 signed by Jerry and dated October 28th, 2020. It was impossible. That was only two days before, but he had died nearly six months ago. She even said she spoke to him last night. I convinced myself that it was just an old check with the wrong date on it, and that the phone call wasn’t actually him. Maybe she just put the wrong number under his contact. The extents I went to to calm myself were crazy. Any sane person would do the same though. “He’s dead” I told myself as I shredded up the check and threw it in the trash can outside.

. My walks typically covered every sidewalk in Fair Springs. Along the way, I would stop and talk to old friends or regular golfers. Normally, the neighborhood was lively; not today. The streets were desolate. I blamed it on last night’s storm which left the course soggy and the paths with occasional puddles. The weather was pleasant today though. Mid-forties and slightly cloudy.

. I walked silently with nobody to stop and say hello to. Suddenly, as I turned the corner onto Maldives Drive, I was faced with a stranger walking right towards me. I stepped to the side preparing to make space for them as we passed. They did not. Approaching closer and closer, I scanned the figure. Tall, dark hoodie, sunglasses, shaggy white hair poking from his hood, and a white gold class ring on his middle finger. Could it be? No. No. It was impossible. I remember it all. There was no way he was alive.

. I stopped. I couldn’t move. As I stood there, I was overcome by the memories of the events on January 7th. I had known for three months at that point that my “dear husband” was texting, calling, and dating over twenty other women. It broke me when I realized my whole married life had been a scam. Anger filled me day in and day out. I fell into a deep stage of depression as I questioned why I wasn’t enough for him and what I did wrong. Finally, I decided to kill him.

I knew I had to wait until after the holidays because of the Cartier bracelet and new BMW he had promised me for Christmas. It was worth the wait. This also gave me time to research and devise my plan. In the end, I settled on waiting until he returned to work and cutting his brakes, so that he would be unable to stop while on the highway.

. Needless to say, I knew my plan had worked when two officers showed up at my front door to break the news. Kara was still in highschool at the time, so they sent her home. I remember the hot tears that I had to wipe off her face. She was crushed, but I was unphased. What I had done was justice. Justice for me and those twenty other women he had been lying to. Justice for our little family that he had destroyed secretly.

So, why did I do it? Why didn’t I just divorce him? There are two reasons. The first is that when we got married I signed a prenuptial. In it I agreed on only getting $200,000 which was only a fraction of Jerry’s yearly income. Secondly, my reputation would have been ruined if anyone found out he had mistresses. I couldn’t afford that. It had taken me 27 years to build a name for myself, and there was no way I’d let my lousy husband ruin that for me.

After his death, I collected his life insurance and began dating new men. They were all successful, but boring. Their whole life was within their jobs. Some even had wives, but in those cases I made sure to anonymously email them to let them know. I couldn’t let that happen to anyone else, especially not on my behalf.

I finally snapped back to reality as the stranger stopped in front of me. He removed his glasses, and I immediately recognized his icy blue eyes. It was Jerry. He was alive.

“You know Margret, I always assumed you to be an intelligent woman, you’ve proved me right. But, here’s the catch, I’m an even smarter man” he said as he cocked his head to the left pulling off his hood.