The days following the race were just as mundane as they'd been before, all blurring together into one long work week. The only difference was the lack of satisfaction that had always been the result of closing a sale. He hadn't gotten any worse at his job or at faking enthusiasm when pushing a buy on a customer, but it just wasn't enough anymore. For years, he'd wanted to open his own lot, or even buy this one from Alfonso, the current owner, but when he'd told Lucy about it, she asked him if he was trying to see less of her for the sake of a stupid job. So he was stuck at sales associate level, and although he was one of the lot's best salesmen, it wasn't what he wanted.
Mickey had made his own ambitions known when he'd first been hired. He wanted to do what Jason did. Hell, maybe Jason would just give him his job so he could quit. And then what? He'd never hear the end of it from Lucy. He sometimes found himself wondering what had happened to them. There was a time when he'd loved her, madly and truly, or he wouldn't have asked her to marry him. But he'd been blind to her manipulative nature before, and as the years passed, that side of her had overtaken the caring and nurturing side that he'd fallen for in the first place. He'd always found it amusing that she hated being called by her full name, Lucille, and he used to tease her about it and use that name only to be playfully swatted on the behind for it. Now, if he dared call her Lucille, she might very well hit him with her car. He didn't know what could possibly have changed so much in her, but he valued loyalty above everything else and he would be damned if he didn't hold himself to his own standards. But he didn't feel the least bit guilty about the lie he'd made up about going for a walk to clear his head at three o'clock in the morning and falling asleep at the coffee shop. There had been some truth to it. He was at the coffee shop that morning, just in a different context, one that Lucy could never find out about.
About a week later, Jason was driving home from another bland day at work. He sat at a red light, staring blankly out the windshield. There wasn't much cross traffic. A slow van. A truck. Then a sedan zoomed by, full speed. He laughed and shook his head fondly at the memory it evoked as he watched it disappear down the street. It was a happy memory, but that was what it would remain. Nothing good ever came of sneaking around, no matter how much fun it was.
Jason made it home with a clear head. He had forced the speeding car out of his mind for the sake of his own sanity. Besides, if he appeared distracted, Lucy would have questions, and he would have to come up with another lie. He didn't even check to see if she was home, and instead went straight upstairs to take a long, hot shower. He took his time towel drying his hair and finding a comfortable set of clothes to lounge in. It was Sunday night, and his favorite show was about to start.
He strolled casually down the stairs and into the living room to find Lucy curled up on the sofa. She was watching some obnoxious reality show, the remote clutched tightly in her hand.
"Hey, can I have that?" he asked, sitting down beside her and pointing at the remote.
"Why?" she replied.
"It's eight o'clock, my show's starting."
"I'm watching this now," she said, and turned up the volume.
Jason exhaled. "Can I set it to record, at least?" he ventured.
"I'm in the middle of this," she said. He should have known compromise was beneath her.
"Pause it," Jason said, not really caring if he was pushing her buttons.
"I can't hear what she's saying!" she bit, rewinding her show a few seconds.
"Why don't you record this and watch it uninterrupted when I'm not here?" he pressed on. "I watch one show, once a week."
"Shh!" was all he got in return. He figured he was still on her shit list for last weekend. The woman nurtured her grudges like they were her children. He missed the old Lucy. She would have forgiven him by now. Then again, if it was still the old Lucy, he never would have taken Marion up on her offer in the first place.
Jason sighed, exasperated, and pushed himself up off the couch, heading for the back door.
"You're not smoking again, are you?" Lucy snapped as he slid open the glass.
"No," he mumbled. He grabbed his jacket off the hook and stepped out into the cold, sliding the door shut behind him. He breathed in a lungful of the cool night air. There was something so peaceful about being outside at night.
The yard was small, with a patch of green grass just large enough to play fetch with a small dog, or for two or three little ones to play a game of tag. It was surrounded by a seven foot high fence made of thick wood, and all along the base of it were Lucy's beautiful rose bushes, sunflowers, and tomato plants. Her love for her garden had been the one thing to remain consistent. In one corner of the yard stood a tree whose branches towered over half the area. It made it feel cozy and safe, but the stars were still visible from where Jason sat leaning back against the little picnic table they had bought when they'd first moved in.
The soft breeze picked up, making him shudder, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers touched something soft and flimsy. He pulled it out and unfolded it. It was the napkin with Marion's phone number scribbled on it. He stared at it, conflicted. On the one hand he thought, no, you don't need to go sneaking around with some girl while your wife sits at home. But on the other hand, what harm could there be in spending some time in pleasant company? He was allowed to have friends after all, was he not? He shook his head. He was starting to feel like a teenager worried about talking to the pretty girl who sat next to him. He tried to think of the last time he'd done something just for himself. A week ago he'd gone out in the middle of the night, but before that... He was drawing a blank. Fuck this shit, he thought, and pulled out his phone.
"I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting to hear from you," Marion said as she sat down across from Jason. They'd decided to meet at the coffee shop during Jason's lunch hour the next day. He'd gotten there a little earlier and ordered their drinks. Marion's was a mocha, if he remembered correctly.
"That makes two of us," Jason replied.
"Everything okay?" Marion asked. She must have noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
"Fine," he lied. "Managed to finagle my way out of a horrible punishment."
"What is she, your mother?" Marion said, then immediately looked down. "Sorry. Not my business."
"'S okay," Jason replied. He watched her slowly spin her coffee cup around as they sat in silence. She stopped at the scribbled name on the side and an amused smile crossed her face. She turned the cup to show him how the name "Negan" had been written and laughed.
"I'm glad you remembered my new name," she joked.
"How could I forget?" Jason replied.
"So how's work been?" she asked, carefully sipping her coffee.
"Ever since you paid us a visit it's been in steady decline," he said. "Customers get less and less interesting by the day."
"All the more reason to find something that does interest you," she suggested. "If you're not enjoying every day, what's the point?"
"The point is stability and steady income," he replied. "I'm not really cut out for the criminal life."
"I'm not a criminal," Marion said breezily. "I mean...technically I am. But I'm not a bad person. I've never murdered anyone."
"That's good," Jason laughed. "You got me there."
Marion smiled. "Well, casual law-breaking's not for everyone, but if you ever change your mind I'm happy to help."
"Maybe someday," he replied, nodding slowly.
"At least take up a new hobby or something in the meantime," she added. "Whatever helps break the dullness. Find something that makes you happy."
"I like my job," Jason said. "I do get some happiness from it."
"I don't mean your job," Marion replied with a knowing look. He knew exactly what she meant, but he wasn't sure how much would be appropriate to reveal at this point. Besides, his wife was the last thing he wanted to talk about with her.
He looked down at his cup. This was a delicate subject as it was, and Marion was honestly still a stranger. What if she turned out to be crazy or some big con artist? But even his rational thoughts couldn't block out the fact that he felt intoxicated by her presence. As corny as it felt to admit to himself, she really was a breath of fresh air and he was happy to have her around. That was something he didn't plan on letting go.