Housewarming

by Jennifer Bowen

  “Can he do it on his own?” Shannon asked, both of them looking up at the ceiling. “That’s two stories up. Should I call Tom?”

  “I don’t want to put anybody out. Let’s just see if Marvin needs help. I stored the old light in the garage. Let me go get it.”

  Twenty minutes later, they heard the rumble of a pickup truck coming up the driveway. Marvin had returned. Ignoring Shannon’s chuckle, Kara went outside and helped him heave the heavy aluminum A-frame ladder and carry it into the house.

  “What do you need me to do?” she asked him when they had positioned it under the chandelier.

  He waved her back, his breath labored. He didn’t reply until he slid home the locking bolts. “Just hand the light to me when I get up a few rungs.”

  Kara held up the brass chandelier, the one that looked like a teat, once Marvin had turned toward them from the fourth ladder step. Carefully holding it by the base, he twisted around and climbed up. Both women watched until he made it near the ceiling.

  “Do you want me to hold the ladder?” Kara asked, gripping its sides.

  “No. I’m fine. It’s sturdier than that scaffolding John had me on!” He chuckled, then grunted. “Go about your business. I’m good here.”

  “Yeah, Kara,” Shannon agreed. “He doesn’t need an audience.”

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” Kara hesitated, seeing the chandelier was balanced on the top seat of the ladder. Marvin was reaching above into the electrical box, untwisting wires.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Come on, Kara,” Shannon prompted. “Let’s see what these kids are doing.”

  With one last wary glance at Marvin, Kara followed Shannon upstairs. They found Lilah sitting on her bedroom floor, looking at a page in her picture book about fairies. She pinched the corner of the page her focus on an illustration of a fairy that sat on a gold-sparkled flower petal. A year before, Lilah had spilled glitter all over the page. However, despite Kara’s best efforts, gold crumbs still festered on the petal, over the fairy’s bare feet, and on the background trees. It added a shimmer that seemed to make the picture come alive.

  “Hey, Lilahbean,” Kara said, sitting on the bed.

  Shannon sat on the carpeted floor across from Lilah. “Whatcha up to?” She tugged on one of the girl’s sock-covered feet.

  “Reading my book,” Lilah replied, glancing at them before returning her attention to the page.

  “Did you have a good day at school?” Kara asked, still feeling guilty for having overslept.

  Lilah nodded without looking up.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to pick you up today. Mommy had a long nap. I was too tired, I guess,” Kara said.

  “I know,” Lilah replied, turning the color-enriched page. Kara’s eyes wandered down, catching sight of the clay base of the statue. Its head was hidden beneath Lilah’s folded leg.

  “I see your doll,” Shannon said, as if noticing what had caught Kara’s eye.

  Lilah met Shannon’s eyes and nodded solemnly.

  “Can I see her again?”

  Lilah studied her for a moment before shaking her head.

  “Lilah!” Kara exclaimed. “Let Shannon see your doll. That’s not nice. You let her see it earlier.”

  Lilah shook her head again, pouting out her lower lip.

  “That’s okay. I know she’s a special doll,” Shannon said good-naturedly, getting to her feet.

  Lilah turned the page.

  “Lilah…” Kara started, but let it drop a she watched her daughter turn pages until coming to the end of the book. Lilah paused at the glossy back cover before opening the book again to the first page. Kara watched as she methodically turned pages until Lilah came again to the glitter-covered page. The girl stopped there and traced a finger over the bumpy flower petals.

  Shannon spoke up, breaking Kara’s trance, “Are you hungry, Lilah?”

  Kara asked, “Lilah, pepperoni or cheese pizza?”

  Lilah looked up. “Cheese!”

  “Okay, cheese for you and pepperoni for Jack.” When they had left the room, Kara said to Shannon, “Sorry about that. She’s so attached to that statue.”

  “That’s alright. Kids get like that with toys.”

  “I guess. But that’s not even a toy. I really should’ve never let her play with it.”

  “She’ll outgrow it soon enough. Wait ‘til Christmas and replace it with a doll.” Shannon jerked a thumb toward the open bonus room. “Is that another bedroom?”

  “It’s storage for now. It’s going to be our future bonus room. Tom fixed the broken window…” Kara’s eyes narrowed, spotting a pebble just past the threshold. She bent over and picked it up. Realizing it wasn’t a stone after all, she rolled the silver sphere, a half-inch in diameter, in the palm of her hand. It was similar in size to a marble, but not glassy, instead made of a material solid like iron. She glanced around, the room dark although the sun was on their side of the house. A shiver went through her. There was something familiar about the ball, but she couldn’t remember when she had come across it. She dropped it into her shorts pocket and led Shannon downstairs.

  “Still doing okay?” Shannon called, as they made their way to the foyer.

  The sound of the drill was Marvin’s reply. He stretched above his head, pushing it against the electrical box, easing away from the chandelier sitting in front of him.

  Taking that as their hint to leave him alone, the women continued through to the kitchen.

  “Got any wine?” Shannon asked with a crooked smile.

  “Sure.” Kara pulled the bottle out of the refrigerator and opened it. She poured both of them a glass and hesitated on a third. “Does Marvin drink wine?” She turned around, intending to ask him, but her cellphone dinged, stopping her.

  She picked up the phone from the countertop. Her mother had texted.

  He won’t stop.

  Kara’s her heart started to kick.

  She texted back, David?

  Yes! He keeps asking me about you. I told him to stop, but he won’t.

  Kara texted back, What’s he want?

  She leaned against the counter as Shannon, oblivious, filled the glasses with wine.

  What do you think?

  Kara’s mind was scrambling. Before she could muster a thought, Margaret texted again, He’s not acting right.

  Kara glanced at Shannon and didn’t reply to her when she asked, “What?” Instead, she texted back, What’s he doing? Do I need to worry?

  Kara stared at the screen, waiting. After a minute of no reply, she pressed her mother’s name, calling her. The phone rang three times before going to the generic voicemail recording. Kara left a message, asking her to call her.

  “What’s going on?” Shannon asked.

  Kara texted Margaret, Hello?

  “Kara?” Shannon prompted. “Is everything okay?”

  Without looking up, Kara replied, “Yeah.” Her eyes bore into the screen. When several seconds had passed, she scrolled up the messages and re-read their exchange.

  “Anything I can do?” Shannon asked.

  Kara laid the cellphone face-up on the counter, finally peeling her eyes away. “No.” She swallowed a drink of wine, wondering at Margaret’s words.

  He’s not acting right.

  What did that mean? What did David want: shared custody of Jack? Why was Margaret leaving these vague messages? Should Kara be worried?

  “Kara? The way you’re downing that wine, something must be up.”

  Kara swallowed the last of her alcohol and looked at the black cellphone screen. “My mom just texted me about David again.”

  “She did? What did she say?”

  Kara picked up the phone, scrolled back and read the text messages aloud. Looking up when she was done, she asked, “What do you think?”

  “Wow. She didn’t say anything else?”

  Kara shook her head. “This is my mother. When she wants to, she can be vindictive.”

  “Reall
y? About this?”

  Kara shrugged, setting the phone back on the counter.

  “Geez, I don’t know. I don’t want to scare you, but…”

  “Do you think I should call the police? I mean, is there a threat?”

  “I don’t know. Well, the thing is, it’s your mom who’s saying he contacted her…but then you don’t know what he said to her…Does he know where you live?” Shannon looked out the kitchen window.

  Kara thought of the figure in the shadows. Had that been David? Had her mother given him her address? But she didn’t think she would’ve done that, not without Kara’s permission.

  “No, he hasn’t contacted me.” She hadn’t seen the figure again. Had she hallucinated it? She had been wrong about seeing the blonde woman in the kitchen, after all. That hadn’t been real.

  Shannon met her eyes, her expression grim. “Just be careful.”

  “It’s pretty sad if it is just my mom playing games.” Kara poured another glass of wine. “She can be pretty obnoxious.” She hoped that was it, that Margaret was toying with her, because the alternative of David being a very real menace was something she didn’t want to realize.

  “Whew. Tough mama,” Shannon murmured, drinking.

  Kara forced a smile. “I’m not thinking anymore about it.” She stretched, centering herself and mentally pushing away the drama.

  Shannon leaned forward, asking quietly, “Is your neighbor still here?”

  Kara trained her ears; the foyer was silent. “I think so. I feel bad Marvin’s installing that light. I don’t hear anything, though. I wonder if he—”

  There was a yelp, followed by a hard crash and two loud thumps. She and Shannon ran to the front of the house. Both women screamed.

  Arms splayed out, Marvin lay on the floor, trapped beneath one end of the ladder that had fallen with him. The bulbs of the brass chandelier had broken and shards of glass were scattered across the floor. Kara’s hands covered her mouth in horror.

  “Mommy?” Lilah’s voice was small as she called cautiously from the staircase.

  Kara’s legs were immobile. She was stunned and couldn’t comprehend the gruesome image in front of her. Marvin’s eyes were shut, blood trickling from his gaping mouth, and his legs were turned at unnatural angles.

  She finally tore her eyes away and yelled, “Lilah, go to your room!”

  Shannon raced around his sprawled body and jabbed her cellphone, calling 9-1-1.

  The backdoor opened and Jack called, “Mom, what’s for dinner?” at the same time Lilah called “Mommy?” from the staircase landing.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Diane didn’t discuss Marvin’s status, aside from letting Kara know he was “still in the hospital.” She accepted Kara’s sympathies, but told her she wanted to be left alone while she kept vigil at the hospital and at home. Some days, Kara would look out from her front porch and spot movement, picturing Diane in her rocking chair inside the screened front porch, but she kept her promise by not coming over.

  One day, Kara swore she heard someone knock at the front door. She went to check, but was met with the empty porch, vacant yard, and quiet street. She turned around quickly to look at the door, and was grateful there was no posted sign this time, no passing-by real estate agent, and most of all, no David.

  She considered telling John about Margaret’s text messages, but ultimately, she changed her mind. Better to keep it to herself until she got more information. This would only make matters worse between her mother and him.

  Her life went on, one day clicking after the other, hoping each day that passed would be the day Marvin would return home, healthy again. But, each day, she ended up disappointed, seeing no sign of his return. She fell into a depression, ignoring voicemails left by Tracy and the clerk from Buried Treasures, who said the antique chandelier was ready. Sensing her sadness, John suggested Kara volunteer at Jack’s school, saying that’d keep her occupied. She took his advice and called them, but they didn’t need morning helpers. They did, however, ask if she’d chaperone a field trip in a month. She said she would. It was something, but not the distraction she needed presently.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” Kara said to John several days later. They sat on the deck in plastic Adirondack chairs, watching Jack and Lilah toss an oversized ball to each other. Kara sat forward, fighting the natural gravity of the sloping chair. “Do you think I should check on Diane?” Her eyes spied the lemon house through the trees. No one worked in the garden; the leaves didn’t even stir. She caught sight of the white scarf; it too was limp.

  “Do you know what hospital Marvin’s at?” John asked.

  Kara shook her head. “She wouldn’t say.”

  “I know you feel guilty. I feel guilty too, but it was an accident.”

  Kara studied his face as he looked ahead, his eyes on the kids. Lines she hadn’t noticed before were etched in the creases near his eyes and mouth. She wondered if he was having trouble sleeping too. The event had added to her current bag of drama, adding to her sinking dread. She looked at the leaves again, feeling a sense of eeriness, and murmured, “It’s so still out today.”

  John grunted, looking up at the cloudy sky. “Is it supposed to rain?”

  Kara looked up. A turkey vulture drifted out from over the woods, a black blight in the white sky. She looked away, her eyes on the Foremans’ house again. “I never hear chickens.”

  “Hmm?”

  “When we met Marvin, he said he had chickens. I’ve never heard them.”

  John glanced at the yard next door. “Maybe the sound just doesn’t carry this far.”

  “Should I check on them?” Kara didn’t wait for an answer. She stepped down off the deck and crossed through a stand of trees. Lilah started to follow, but John called out to her not to.

  Kara spotted cucumbers and tomatoes and a flower garden before carefully wending her way around the yard, close to the rear of the house. She looked about, wondering then if the house was truly vacant. She hadn’t thought to knock on the door. What if Matthew was home?

  She hurried, not feeling welcome, a trespasser whom the homeowner had already told to stay away. She observed as she went, her eyes scouring the area for cages, a dirt run, pellets, some sign of chickens. It was all grass on the other side of the house, and there was no sound of anything, save birdsong and a car cruising down the road. She moved to the front yard, glancing at the curtained windows before approaching the porch and tugging on the screen door.

  Locked.

  She peered inside, but no one was in the shadowed room. She stepped back from the door and, looking down, saw a pair of worn sneakers propped on the ground beside the porch. Matthew’s.

  She stepped away from the house, looking up at it, viewing the curtained second floor windows. There was no movement, no noise coming from inside. Evidently, the chickens were gone and nobody was home.

  The next day, Kara relented and went into town for the antique chandelier. Enough stalling, she made the trek alone.

  Smiling good-naturedly, the clerk said, “You’ve been a busy lady I see.”

  Kara attempted to match the smile, but knew hers looked as fake as it felt. “Busy?”

  “Didn’t you get my messages?”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s been…hectic.”

  “That’s certainly no problem!” She led Kara to the counter. “I have the chandelier right over here. I’m sorry you had to have it rewired. But I assure you, I tried it myself and it lights like a charm.”

  There was no enthusiasm as Kara said, “Great.”

  The clerk looked around. “You didn’t bring anybody to help?”

  “No.”

  “The chandelier is very heavy, my dear. We’ll try, but I don’t know if the two of us can manage.”

  “My friend and I managed last time,” Kara said, remembering Tracy had helped her load it before.

  “Well, we can try.”

  The chandelier was heavy, but the two women man
aged, heaving it up off the floor and moving slowly to the trunk of Kara’s car.

  “Thanks,” Kara said, this time her smile genuine.

  She pulled open the driver’s door when the clerk spoke, “Oh, did you bring the statue?” The woman gestured toward the sign hanging from the second floor.

  “My friend and daughter brought it in a while ago.”

  The clerk wrinkled her brow, glanced down at the sidewalk, and then back up at Kara.

  “Is there someone else who works here?” Kara prompted.

  The clerk thought a moment, then raised a finger, remembering. “I was out of town. It must’ve been then. I normally close the shop when I vacation, but a friend of mine offered to keep it open, and well, I would’ve been remiss if I hadn’t accepted. I went to another friend’s cottage on an island…” She droned on about her vacation and finally trailed to a stop, reading the disinterest on Kara’s face. “Did she tell you anything about the statue? My friend’s well-versed in antiques and I had given her a heads up about it and the shop sign.”

  “There’s no connection, just a coincidence,” Kara replied, shortly. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss the origins of antiques. She didn’t care anymore. What did it matter?

  “Oh, that’s a shame. There’s something about antiques, though. Much like an older home, they tend to carry the past with them. I may sound rather odd when I say this,” She chuckled, pressing a hand to her mouth before continuing, “But I believe that old items—antiques—of any importance find their way into the hands of people who are meant to have them. Now whether they belong to a descendant of the original owner, or the new owner has a connection to the time period or place where the item is discovered…the item belongs somewhere, if that makes any sense. From the look on your face, I can tell you think I’m nuts!” She laughed.

  “That isn’t odd,” Kara said, but she was just being polite. Honestly, she didn’t understand what the clerk was getting at, and really, she just wanted to go home. She was tired.

  The clerk’s expression softened. Clasping her hands together, she asked, “Mind if I swing by sometime to see the statue myself?”

  “Maybe,” Kara said, sliding into the car, not intending to set up a date.