Page 93 of Forgotten Deeds

Walking over to the food table, I start to fill plates when I overhear the tail end of a conversation between two women in front of me. “Married a gym rat.”

“Not much of a step up from the deadbeat ‘baby daddy.’”

“No. I’d say more of a downgrade.”

“I prefer the term ‘personal trainer,’” I say loudly, and both women turn to me, eyes wide. “You might consider finding a trainer. Weightlifting is wonderful to strengthen bones—especially in elderly women dealing with osteoporosis.”

Who knows how old these women are given their extensive plastic surgery, but my shot must have hit the mark, because they both look offended as hell.

“Excuse me.” I grab Iris a cupcake and stroll off.

* * *

Lily

I keep checking my phone; ugh, have we really only been here for an hour? “I need to go to the bathroom. Iris, do you need to potty?” I ask.

“Nope,” she says, blowing bubbles with a wand Darius brought. The man really is thoughtful; and psychotic, I can’t forget that part.

“Be back in a few,” I say, stepping inside. I use the bathroom, and upon exit, I’m waived over by my father. I smile; that is until I see who he’s speaking with. “Lily, you of course know Professor Miller,” my father says.

“Hello.” I force a smile.

“Ms. Grant,” Professor Miller says politely, like that vile threat he made in his office never happened.

“Professor Miller’s going to be joining my department this fall,” my father says.

“Oh, you’re not returning to Newark?” I ask, wanting to jump for joy.

“No,” Professor Miller says, but doesn’t elaborate.

Someone snags my father’s attention. “Excuse me for just a moment,” he says, walking off.

That leaves me alone with a sexual predator. The old Lily would be terrified, but somewhere along the way, I seemed to have discovered my backbone. “New university; new pool of women to sexually harass. You must be excited,” I comment.

Professor Miller curls his lips into a snarl, only for his eyes to land over my shoulder; he turns a ghastly shade of white before hobbling away with the aid of his cane.

Turning around, I find Darius watching us from across the room, with Iris’ attention elsewhere. Our eyes lock before he squats down, saying something to my daughter.

* * *

Darius

“Excuse me, ladies. Restroom break,” I announce. I’ve had my eye on Professor Miller all afternoon; he’s been hitting the booze pretty hard, and it’s only a matter of time before he needs to take a piss.

“First door down the hall on the left,” Lily instructs me.

“Thanks. Be back in a little bit.” Walking inside the house, I enter the guest bathroom, making sure to clog the toilet with enough paper to cause a biblical-sized flood. I give it a flush, and water begins backing up as I close the door behind me.

Positioning myself to where I can see the door, I watch another party-goer enter, only to turn right around. The guest tracks down a woman in a housekeeper uniform, who enters the bathroom and likewise exits swiftly. She takes off down the hall, returning a moment later with reinforcements—a man holding a plunger. He enters the bathroom, and the housekeeper tapes an out of order sign on the door.

I slink to the foyer and ascend the stairs, waiting for the second act of this little tragedy. I’ve already triple checked for security cameras; none inside. Outside, I noted five, so that just means dirty deeds will need to be performed indoors.

Exactly seven minutes pass before Professor Miller hobbles up the stairs and enters the bathroom. He exits quickly—no way he fucking washed his hands—and I creep up behind him. As soon as he reaches the first step, I give him a good heave-ho. Not because he didn’t wash up, but because I warned the fucker not to so much as look at Lily, and I’m a man of my word.

His cries echo as I hustle to the front stairs, taking them two at a time and rejoining the party outside. “Girls, can I get you anything else to eat? Drink?” I ask, appearing beside my wife and stepdaughter.

“Sweetie, are you still hungry?” Lily asks Iris.

---