She gave the communication to her extensions; perk up, not much time left.
Lily and Rick straightened up slightly on the sofa as if they were balloons suddenly filling with air. They became more animated as the life came back into them.
The Diet Coke Diana had been drinking before she and Laura left for Elizabeth’s was still on the table. She picked it up and took a sip from it, not noticing or caring that it had grown warm.
Laura stacked dishes in the dishwasher.
Jerry sat in his chair looking nervous, keeping his gaze turned away from her extensions and out the sliding glass window.
Diana took another sip of coke and smiled.
Soon.
LAURA KNEW SOMETHING was wrong, knew it in her bones, but she didn’t know what to do. The only thing she could think to do was wait for Elizabeth to arrive. She trusted that Elizabeth would cut to the chase and confront Diana with everything. And even though Laura was bothered by a lot of things, was confused and scared by what had happened today, she couldn’t articulate her feelings. She knew Elizabeth would fix it, would get right to the root of the problem. Elizabeth knew what was going on, and her patience had run out with Diana and Ronnie.
Please Elizabeth, she thought as she rinsed dinner dishes in the sink and placed them in the dishwasher. I know you think something’s wrong, you’ve been bothered by Diana and her kids for weeks now and I’m just sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner. I hope you get down to business when you get here because I know if you do, it’ll snap me out of my state of confusion and maybe rile me up. And once I get riled up, once I have you backing me up, I think we can get to the bottom of whatever bullshit has been going on around here.
“So what was Ronnie up to when you went in the house with those policemen?” Laura asked, trying to sound naturally curious.
“He was just watching TV,” Diana answered.
“Just watching TV?”
“Yep.”
“How’s he been lately?”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Has he been eating right?”
Diana gave Laura a look of annoyance. “Of course he’s been eating right!”
Laura shrugged as she finished placing glasses in the top hamper of the dishwasher. “Last time I saw him was at Cindy’s wake and he looked like he’d lost an awful amount of weight in a short period of time. He didn’t look good.”
“He’s fine,” Diana said.
“Are you sure? You know, come to think of it, I haven’t seen Ronnie since the wake. Haven’t even heard from him since then, either. That’s odd for Ronnie. I used to hear from him at least once a week.”
“He’s been working,” Diana said, and Laura could feel her eyes on her smoldering with hate as she answered. “He works second shift and half of third shift at the plant. You know that.”
“I know, and that’s not good for him. I’m concerned for his health.”
“You know,” Diana said, and something about the tone of her voice made Laura stop what she was doing and look at her. Diana had straightened up in her chair; she looked more animated and bold, in control. “I think Ronnie’s right. He’s been complaining to me about things, you know.”
“No I don’t know,” Laura said, turning away from the dishwasher and facing Diana. The kitchen counter separated them and Laura glared at her, feeling the sudden anger surge through her. “I don’t know anything anymore since you’ve moved in.”
“Oh, is that how it is?” Diana said, her voice rising and there was venom in it. There was real anger in that tone of voice.
Now we’re going to get into it, Laura thought, and a part of her was thrilled with this. Let’s have it on, baby. “Is that how what is?” Laura asked, feeling more bold herself and not in the mood to put up with Diana’s attitude.
“Ronnie always said that you and Jerry always bossed him around,” Diana said, accusatorily. “That you never approved of his life. That you’re always trying to tell him what to do and how to live. And then I come along and give him happiness and what do you do? You try to get between us.”
“Oh is that right?” So this was where it was going. Laura couldn’t believe she was hearing such horseshit.
“Yes, that’s right!” Diana snapped. Her cheeks were flush. She stood up, livid with anger. “Admit it, Laura. You don’t like me and you don’t like my kids. You don’t like the fact that your son is seeing me, that he loves me, and you’re just trying to ruin our relationship.”
“Maybe I am,” Laura said.
Diana’s mouth opened in shock.
The sight of her made Laura want to burst out laughing. She couldn’t believe she was hearing this, but she also knew Diana was serious. The woman was deranged. She was a mental case, and her son had gotten mixed up with her. Ronnie had always thought with the little head more than the big one, and she supposed she couldn’t blame him entirely for that. He was a man, after all. But to have let Diana get away with taking advantage of him for so long was something so unlike her son, she knew she had to put her foot down at some point and stop it. His relationship with Diana was not only affecting his life and health, it was affecting Mary greatly. If he didn’t see that he was a fool, and Laura was going to step in for her granddaughter’s sake. If he didn’t care for that they would take it up in private, away from Diana. Ronnie was an adult and whatever he wanted to do with Diana was fine with her, so long as it didn’t involve Mary. And if Diana was going to interfere in her protection of Mary, then she had another thing coming.
Out of the corner of her eye, Laura noticed Lily and Rick sitting wide-eyed and nervous on the sofa. Jerry looked surprised by the argument as well. He had turned in his chair to watch the exchange and everybody seemed poised on the brink of war, as if the fight was going to get worse. Laura could feel it too, and she supposed in a way their premonition was right. It was going to get worse. Elizabeth was due any minute, and now that Laura had already gotten the ball rolling and was pissed off beyond belief, her daughter would be more than happy to jump in and have Diana for breakfast. You don’t fuck with us Baker women, Laura thought, glaring at Diana. You think I’m a tough bitch, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait till Elizabeth gets here.
She heard a car pull in to the driveway.
Here it comes, she thought.
“I kind of figured that,” Diana said, not breaking her gaze from Laura’s face. “I knew you didn’t have his best interests at heart, even though I tried not to believe it.”
“Honey, I think it’s the other way around,” Laura said.
The slam of a car door outside, running feet scurrying towards the porch.
Diana’s anger had driven her toward the counter so that the two women were almost standing nose to nose on either side, yelling at each other. “I dare you to say that to Ronnie’s face!”
“You don’t have to dare me, I’ll be honored.”
The front door burst open. Both women turned toward the door.
Ronnie lurched into the room.
The first thing Laura could think of when she saw him was, oh my God he looks awful! Christ I can’t believe Diana was keeping this from me, what in the goddamn hell is wrong with her?
Laura only had a brief moment to register that the man swaying on unsteady feet in her living room was a crude caricature of her son. He was rail thin, with open sores along his face and pale tattooed arms. His long hair was greasy and hung limp against his shoulders; it was falling out in clumps, and his scalp revealed patches of raw skin. His clothes were dirty and Laura noticed his stench right away. “Ronnie,” she said, all the fight draining out of her at the pitiful sight of her son.
Then she saw what Ronnie held in his right hand...a black handgun.
He raised the gun at her and pulled the trigger.
When the bullet hit her it felt like she had been punched in the chest. The force of the shot pushed her back into the stove and she looked at her son dumbfounde
d as he staggered into the room, his eyes wild. She could hear Jerry’s voice, panicked and trembling. “What in the goddamn hell is going on here?”
And then all hell broke loose as Ronnie continued shooting.
RONNIE’S FORD EXPLORER was in the driveway when Elizabeth pulled up to her parent’s house. She swung the car in and parked beside it, hoping Ronnie was okay. She wondered what it had taken for Ronnie to get over whatever state he was in when she saw him at his house, to actually get past that and get in his SUV and drive to mom and dad’s. Mom and Diana must have been able to get Ronnie help. That might explain why the SUV was there—maybe Mom had driven it to the house. Maybe they’d taken Ronnie to the hospital or something. She turned off the ignition and saw Diana’s car parked at the curb in front of the house. Nope, Diana was here. Maybe they were all inside.
With that thought in mind, Elizabeth took a deep breath, preparing herself for the big showdown that was sure to go on, and got out of the car.
The scene that greeted her when she entered the house hit her the minute she stepped in. It was quiet. Too quiet. She walked through the living room towards the kitchen, wondering where everybody was and then she was stumbling right into the bloodbath.
Her father lay sprawled on his left side between the dining room and the family room, the left side of his skull blown open.
She screamed and turned toward the kitchen and that’s when she saw her mother.
It looked like mom had been shot multiple times. There was blood spattered against the microwave and the kitchen counter, and it was smeared all over the floor in large puddles. Mom lay propped up against the oven, her head dangling over her shoulders lifelessly.
Two shots rang out and Elizabeth jumped and let out a scream. She whirled around just in time to see Diana fall back against the sofa in the family room, a bullet hole in her forehead. Lily and Rick lay slumped on the sofa, idiotic grins on their faces, their eyes glazed, the fronts of their shirts drenched in blood.
“Ronnie!” Elizabeth screamed.
Ronnie turned to her slowly. He still had the gun pointed at Diana and now his finger closed on the trigger, which clicked on an empty chamber.
Elizabeth dove into the living room toward the front door but slipped in a puddle of her father’s blood. The fall sent her skidding along the floor.
She heard the sound of a clip being inserted into the gun just as she started to get to her feet to make another attempt at running for the front door.
“Elizabeth!” Ronnie’s voice was compelling, commanding. The tone of it made Elizabeth hesitate for a fraction of a second. She turned around, five feet from the front door as Ronnie approached the living room.
He looked the same as he did when she saw him at the house. No, he looked worse. Elizabeth’s stomach turned to lead and she froze. She was so scared, so petrified, that she didn’t know what to do. Her brain kept telling her to get the hell out, to leave, but her body wouldn’t obey the commands. It was like there was a short circuit somewhere between her feet and brain. She was just making the connections of what had happened—Ronnie coming over in his psychotic state and blowing away their parents when a flicker of movement from the family room caught her eye.
“Ronnie,” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling. Diana or one of the kids must still be alive, oh my God—
“Fucking bitch always got what you fucking wanted,” Ronnie said. He chambered a round, pointed the gun at her and that’s when her paralysis broke. Elizabeth turned and started running toward the front door and her life literally flashed before her eyes—and she’d always read about that happening in books, had thought it was a cliché. Everything seemed to slow down and she saw Gregg, saw them getting married, remembering what it was like when they were dating and they would sneak off together to make love at every chance they got because she was so in love with him, and he with her, that it was simply magic, she remembered their early days when he was a struggling actor, she a struggling writer, both of them working unsatisfying day jobs to make ends meet and working collectively on their dreams at night, and she remembered feeling pride and happiness when she first saw Gregg in Voyeur, which had won such accolades at Sundance, and she remembered holding her first published novel in her hands, feeling like she had truly given birth to something special, and then she remembered holding Eric when he was a baby and feeling even happier, feeling so in love with this little human being, knowing it was the most special thing she and Gregg had ever created, more than her fiction, more than his playing various roles as an actor, and there were the bad times, the uncertainties, the arguments, and she felt bad that Gregg had given up his art but she didn’t care, he still had the rest of his life to get back into it, they still had a chance to make things better, they loved each other, and then she was thinking how wonderful it was going to be to grow old with Gregg and watch their son grow into a man. All these things went through her mind in a fraction of a second as her legs propelled her toward the front door, and then she heard the shot and it sounded like a clap of thunder. She heard it explode behind her and then she felt a fist crash into her back, pushing her to the floor. Then time sped back up again and she was slammed into the ground hard, her face hitting the carpet and her breath went out in a whoosh. She tried to get up and turn over, tried to take a breath, but it hurt. She was able to turn over once and she knew she was shot, knew she was bleeding now, knew she was in trouble. But still she found the strength to rise up and begin crawling toward the door and then Ronnie shot her again.
The bullet tore through her shoulder, breaking bone. It threw her to the floor again and this time Elizabeth cried out in pain. Then she saw them.
They had gotten up from the sofa and seemed to be floating over to the living room.
Diana, Rick and Lily...they were alive.
They were looking at her.
They were looking around at the carnage in the house.
They didn’t seem to be bothered by their wounds. In fact, their wounds appeared to be mending themselves.
Diana was looking at Ronnie and smiling.
The kids were motionless and they weren’t dead.
They were very much alive.
And they were feeding off the violence and misery that was occurring.
She knew this was happening as Ronnie stood over her and pointed the gun at her again. She saw how Diana’s smile grew wider in anticipation, as if awaiting some tasty meal. When Ronnie shot her again, putting bullets into her abdomen and chest, she felt that Diana was somehow feeding off what was going on, that it was making her stronger. That she was saying yes, Ronnie, shoot her, kill her!
She also sensed that Diana was in total control of him. That she was making him do this.
Elizabeth’s mind clung to this certainty as she lay on the living room floor trying to breathe, blood pouring from her wounds. She didn’t feel pain—she knew it was the shock—and maybe that was good. Not feeling the pain kept her mind clear, brought everything into focus. It confirmed everything right down to the end.
The last thing Elizabeth Weaver saw before she blacked out was Diana and her kids standing at the threshold of the living room, their grins wide and eager, feeding off the violence as Ronnie put the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.
PART THREE
‘Til Death Do Us Part
NINETEEN
GREGG WEAVER KNEW the situation was bad, that things were probably going to get ugly, and as much as he didn’t like what Elizabeth was going to do he saw no way around it. To protect Mary, they had to take the law into their own hands to some degree. He knew that, knew what they had talked about back at the house was risky, but there was nothing else they could do. Gregg was already running through various scenarios in his mind of what he could tell the police if they came pulling into the B&B this evening or tomorrow, hoping he could get them off the hook for aggravated kidnapping. Didn’t have permission from Mary’s mother? Why that’s silly, officer! Mary’s mother died a month ago
, and her father has been unable to care for her. Her father's live-in girlfriend has babysat her occasionally, but her real caregiver is her grandmother. And she knew we were taking the kids with us to the Pocono's for the weekend. So everything’s cool. Really.
He was fairly confident nothing serious would come of it anyway. The police would definitely see this as a domestic dispute, and if Elizabeth were able to do what he was hoping she was doing right now, they would see what was going on and side with them. But there was that little part of him that always wanted to think the worst could happen, and this kept him worried as he drove.
For the most part he tried not to think of the repercussions as he drove north on the Pennsylvania Turnpike heading toward the Pocono Mountains. He’d quickly packed a bag with three days worth of clothes for himself and Elizabeth, and Eric had packed some things for himself and Mary. Then they’d thrown them into the Blazer and set off. Mary asked if they were going away and Gregg had said yes, they were going to the mountains for the weekend but everything would be okay. At this point the kids sensed that what was happening was serious and Mary, in particular, was in danger. Despite this, Gregg noticed a sense of calmness settle on Mary’s face. She appeared to relax, as if she knew everything was being taken care of. And in a way Gregg supposed things were being taken care of. She had found a pair of adults who not only listened to her but believed her (and a part of Gregg still wanted a rational explanation for all the weird shit he had witnessed), and probably just knowing that and being in their protective custody was enough for her to relax and finally get some rest.
This rubbed off on Eric too, and he settled in the backseat and watched the scenery flash by as they drove.
The kids might have been in a less anxiety-ridden mood since this whole mess started, but Gregg was going batshit. He had to flip the cruise control on and keep the Blazer at a steady sixty-five miles per hour because he found he had a lead foot when he was nervous, and twice he was surprised to see their speed creeping up close to ninety. The turnpike was no place to be picked up speeding, so Gregg eased up and tried to keep his eyes on the road and his mind off the possible repercussions of what he and Elizabeth were in the process of doing.
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