Short Story Saturday

Margeaux was going to kill her husband.
Yes, she was.
See, James had been annoying her for years. They were coming up on their 20th wedding anniversary, and he'd been making her crazy for at least ten of those years.

Recently, James had been having some chest pain, though. His cardiologist, Dr. Morgan, had instructed him to start eating healthy, start exercising, and to stop drinking. If he didn't do these things, he'd be having a heart attack very soon.
Hearing this, Margeaux smiled her thin, ice like smile. See, she'd just been waiting for this kind of opportunity. The chance to be free. Divorce was unheard of in her family. But, if her spouse died, of NORMAL causes, well, that couldn't be helped, now could it?
Now, I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that Margeaux went to the store, immediately, and bought all the alcohol, and fat filled, cholesterol laden foods that she could, right?
Quite the opposite, in fact. She went out, purchased a treadmill, dumped all the alcohol, and salt, and all the harmful foods the doctor had told her to dump. On the outside, she was the perfect, attentive wifey. On the inside? Not so much. Her inner, anti-wifey was already planning the funeral services. (Quick cremation, burial at sea type of thing.)
Anyhow, back to James. And his health, his weakened heart. An angiogram was performed, these objects called "stents" were placed. Once she got hubby home, Margeaux started to work in earnest on her goal. She got him up at 5 am the next day, and fired up the treadmill.
"Dr. Morgan said so" she insisted when he protested. "But my leg!" he whined, showing her the bruise and puncture mark.
"That is nothing" she scoffed. "Remeber my caesarean section when I had to birth your large headed son?" Beaten, he got up onto the treadmill. Ten minutes into it, he was panting, red in the face.
"Are you having chest pain, darling?" she asked, lounging on the daybed in her marabou trimmed robe eating a croissant. (There was nothing wrong with her, and she was not going to deprive herself because of his unfortunate heart.)
"No" he said, reluctantly, thinking about saying yes in the possibility she would let him off the evil machine. "Good. Keep going then."
After 30 minutes of this she finally let him off. If he fell on the treadmill, it would leave a suspicious mark, and she couldn't have that. Numbly, he followed her into the kitchen, where he was served a small dish of egg whites and a piece of whole wheat toast. "Any jelly?" he asked, hopefully.
"Not for you" she answered crisply, trying to decide if she could get away with putting him back on the treadmill that afternoon. Shoulders drooping, he ate his meager meal in silence.
Suddenly, an idea popped into Margeaux head. "Why don't you go and play golf with Ralph and Pete?" she asked brightly. "Don't you have a standing golf date every Thursday morning?"
"Ah, why yes. We do" he answered staring at her in confusion. She always hated Pete and Ralph, and was very vocal about his time spent golfing with them. He loved the sport so, that the thought of being out on the green tempted him greatly.
"You really think I should?..." he ventured. "I mean, I just had this.."
"JUST GO" she practically shouted in his ear. "It will be good for you to go" she amended, in a quieter, sweet voice. "You love to golf. It will do you good to get out".
Nodding his head, he limped up the stairs as fast as he could to change, and leave. He did not want her to change her mind. Truth be told, he enjoyed his time away from her and her nit-picky ways. Besides, he could just ride in the golf cart, and watch, there was no law saying he had to actually play.
Unbeknownst to him, Margeaux had called the clubhouse, and made arrangements of her own. She arranged for not only HIS golf cart to break down, but Pete and Ralphs, too. (just in case). The golf pro was having an affair with her friends husband, and Margeaux had been blackmailing him with that information for years.
Once James was out on the course, he could not resist the lure of the little, white ball. He played a decent first eight holes, until, his cart, and the cart of his buddies, did indeed, break down. Luckily for them, however, there were plenty other golfers to take them back in. When he got home, and related the story, Margeaux gnashed her teeth in irritation at the other golfers.
Weeks went by, and Margeaux continued on in her desperate plan to have her husband die. Again and again, he thwarted her. She even took him hiking on a rocky river walk one day, sure that would do him in. Again and again, he persisted in surviving. Every day, she got angrier, and had a harder time acting nicely towards James.
One quiet, sunday morning, she'd had enough. She'd had him on the treadmill for an hour, then, took him on a brisk, neighborhood walk. When that didn't do it, she insisted they go for an afternoon bike ride. By that evening, they were both exhausted. Scowling, she served him his steamed fish and broccoli for dinner, and ate her steak and baked potato, contemplating her next move.
Suddenly, mid chew, she saw James clutch his chest. Eyes bright, up she jumped, ready to "help". The sudden movement lodged a bit of steak into her throat, and it wasn't coming out anytime soon.
James attempted to give her assistance, but he was too tired to give her a heimlich from all the exercise she'd put him through. "never had I felt so helpless" he told Pete and Ralph, later, over a game of golf...
He buried her at sea. After her cremation, of course...