Chapter 1

“…Could you live with yourself?”

“Huh?” I blankly replied as I focused my attention on what was in front of me. 

My wife, Heather, was angrily shaking her hand in the direction of the apartment building being constructed next to our neighborhood. It was one of the many multi-story, mixed-use buildings showing up all over their city.  The entry resembled a lobby in a high-end hotel with sharp colors to match the edgy name they put on the side of the development.  There was just enough weathered wood and rusted metal displayed to make the brand new construction look like it might have been a warehouse or a factory.  And the finishing touch was always a trendy coffee shop or overpriced gym to signal that this is where people you want to be like hang out.

Our neighborhood wasn’t an older one, built fifty or so years ago, but it was cozy and had charm. Small houses, kind of packed together, and was once the outskirts of an industrial area that slowly got absorbed into the main city over time.  Small pieces of land with mostly street parking.

We were close enough to the Vegas strip that it felt like we were in the city and far enough away from the true suburbs that we didn’t feel like we had sold out our youth.  We didn’t have kids and never planned to, so local restaurants and other amenities we could access easily were more important than the underfunded school system our house would have fed into.  Two people didn’t need much room, and our three bed, one and half bath with a decent patio was plenty. 

“Could you live with yourself if this is what we had to look at every day when we woke up?” Heather asked with force. “I can’t believe the city changed the zoning for this monstrosity… And you’re just going to stand there?”

I chuckled, “Do you expect me to grab my shovel and go fight that crane? We voiced our concern at the zoning meeting, and surprisingly, we didn’t have enough money to grease the pockets of the city officials to vote in our favor.”

Heather put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“And besides,” I continued, “our shade cover in the back hides most of the building from view.  Our property value is doing nothing but going up, which will be great when we decide to sell and move out into the country or out of it completely.  I also can’t tell you the last time I actually just looked out that window and marveled at the sky or clouds or birds or whatever.  It’s new background.  I am happy to say that, yes, I can live with myself with that building as our neighbor.”

“I fucking love how pragmatic you are,” she said with a smile, “but I fucking hate that building, and I wish you’d support me on this!”

“I did support, you, sweetie.  I am still supporting you.”

She gave me a playful punch in the arm as she walked into the living room, but the way she asked if I could live with myself lingered in the back of my head in a weird way.

There was nothing remarkable or unremarkable about us.

We both had grown up in Los Angeles, but we were a few years apart in age.  And we grew up in very different areas in a very large city, so there was very little chance of us meeting.  It was just a coincidence that we did.  We went to rival colleges, so sports seasons were always a fun time to talk trash and wear opposing colors.  We met through some mutual friends, and after some awkward back and forths, we started dating and got married a [CH1] few years later.  I had majored in accounting and worked for a large firm in the city.  She was a physical therapist and was a part of small practice a few miles away from our house.  We took vacations and ate out way too often.  We were happy.  Just not remarkable. 

I joined Heather on our living room couch to binge something worthless on a lazy and chilly Sunday afternoon.  And like most people killing time, we were scrolling on our phones as well.

“Is this the episode where they find out the killer isn’t really the killer?” I asked half paying attention to the television while some video played on my phone.

“Nooo… this is the one before it.” Heather replied without taking her eyes off her phone.

“Are you sure?  I thought we already watched that one.  Or maybe it just feels like we did.”

“Dunno.  We’ve watched this so many times.”

“It just feels like this episode is taking forever to finish,” I spoke at the television. “What do you want for dinner? Going to order something and walk down to grab it.  You want a sandwich from The Grill or Thai?”

“Neither!” Heather said like he’d never ask. “Let’s get a pizza.”

“Done.”

“Oh, and can you take the trash out on your way?”

Did I mention we ate out a lot?  This was one of the benefits of deciding to skip a life of parenting.  We did well considering there was no one else to care for, so our disposable income was disposed of appropriately.  We had similar interests and supported a few charities around the city.  Heather always wanted a pet, but neither of us wanted the responsibility, so she volunteered with rescues and any other animal that could trick her into handing out some love.  It was the perfect situation, just like with our nieces and nephews.  All of the fun with very little of the responsibility.

By the time I got outside, the wind had died down and the sun was making long shadows of the houses on the road.  I decided to enjoy a leisurely walk to the shop.

“Hey, Tommy, how’s it going today?” I asked shaking off a bit of cold as I walked in the door.

“Not bad, Cam.  Cold.  Keeps us busy.  No one wants to leave the house.  Yours will be ready in a few.”

“Huh?  Should be ready by now.”

“Busy I guess?  It’ll be a minute or two.”

I sat down at the table next to the door to take a look at the scores. I had just lost a parlay and threw my phone down in disgust.

“Didn’t like what you read?”

A man at the table over asked in my general direction. He had a strange smile on his face like he had just discovered pizza.

“Eh,” I searched for words that would allow me to end this conversation quickly. “Made a bad decision on a sports team.”

“Gamblin, huh?”

I nodded.

“Would be cool to go back and talk yourself out of it.”

I nodded without making eye contact this time, hoping he’d get the hint.

“You know what I’d do?”

Here we go.

“I’d tell myself to come to Vegas sooner. This food is delicious!”

It was pizza. Perfectly acceptable pizza, but nothing special.

I just stared at him.

“Actually,” he continued, “I’d tell myself to stop after the first batch of garlic knots.”

He looked down at the empty basket.

“Second batch was a mistake.”

Tommy called my name from the counter.

“Good luck with your games,” the man said.

“Thanks.”

“It won’t help, but good luck anyway.”

Heather had paper plates and paper towels on the coffee table by the time I got back.

“That took forever.”

“Didn’t seem like you were gone too long.”

“Really?” It was more of a rhetorical question.  I asked myself if rhetorical was the right word to describe that as I answered myself. “Today just seems like it’s going by extremely slowly.”

Time was never something we really worried about.  We were in no rush to grow old, no real desire to stay young.  I felt like we were aging appropriately.  Still went out but 10pm was late to us now.  I was never a fan of sweat pants, but that was Heather’s uniform when we were at home.  Besides, I liked to keep the house cold, so she was always wrapped up in something.

Satisfied with her meal, Heather relaxed on the couch.  She looked comfortable.  I was comfortable.  Everything about this was nice.  There was nothing in our lives that was good or bad.  I was content to have this be how we spent the rest of our lives.  I grabbed the empty box and dirty paper plates and walked to the kitchen.  I grabbed the trash on my way out back to throw it all in the can in the alley. 

Walking inside, I settled into the couch.  Comfortable.  And then my stomach started to rumble.  Heather gave me a side eye. “Uh oh.”

Getting up, a slight wave of dizziness came across me.  I paused and gathered myself, let it pass, and headed to the bathroom with purpose.  The dizziness came back but worse this time.  I grasped the sink on my way to the floor doubling over in pain. Sweat started to bead on my head.  Vision began to get blurry.  I turned to the toilet and then… blacked out for a second.

There was vomit in the toilet.  I hung my head over the edge while the waves of nausea passed.  I caught my breath and stood up.  I had the puke look in my eyes.  After cleaning up, I walked out expecting Heather to have some sort of concern or questions or anything.  It was a small house with wood floors.  Sound traveled exceedingly well.

“Oh.  You’re still here,” Heather said with a puzzled look on her face. “Well, can you take the trash out on your way to pick up the pizza?”

“Huh?”

“You were going to go get pizza.  I thought you left already.  Can you take the trash out on your way?”

I looked down and now noticed the paper plates in her hand.

Confusion overtook me.  “Wait. What?  Is that a joke or something? We just finished eating the pizza.  And then my stomach started making noises.  I just left the couch to go to the bathroom.  What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?  We were just on the couch, yes, but you ordered dinner like ten minutes ago and then I thought you left to go get it.  But clearly, you didn’t.”

More confusion.

“Are you feeling well? Did you just get sick?  I mean, you look sick.  Are you going to get sick again?”

“What the hell is going on right now,” I said way too calmly.  “I ordered the pizza. I got the pizza. We ate the pizza, I got sick. Now we’re here.”

“I don’t know what pizza you ate, but it wasn’t real and it wasn’t here.  Maybe go lay down?  Get some fresh air?  I can go grab dinner.”

More confusion

“Are you sure… I don’t know…” 

I looked at the TV.  Was she certain this isn’t that episode where they find out the killer isn’t the killer?

“Are you sure you’re not playing some weird prank on me?” 

“What prank are you talking about?  You’re acting really weird right now,” she said with some accusatory concern.

“I don’t know what…. fuck… is going on right now.”  I liked to use ‘fuck’ as a filler word.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”  Hers usually carried more weight.

I walked out back to get some fresh air.  Paced around the small back yard getting more confused as the seconds passed.

We ate pizza.  I took the trash out…. The trash!

I ran to the alley and flung open the can.

No trash.

No pizza boxes.

What. The. Fuck.

I stood there in the alley scratching my head like a cartoon character and then heard Heather talking inside.

I walked into the back yard with caution. 

“What’re you doing?  Did you run?”

I heard someone else and started to run back inside thinking someone broke in.

“How’d you get the pizza so quickly?”

I hit a brick wall. 

There’s someone else in my house… and he’s wearing my jacket?  The jacket I’m currently wearing? Is that my voice responding?  Did she just use my nickname?