The Widow's Cabin

by L. G. Davis

  “Liam,” I sit down on the edge of his bed, pulling him into my arms, “there’s something we need to talk about. But let’s go out okay? Let’s go and drive around for a bit. Maybe we can have breakfast outside.”

  Liam loves it when we drive around with no destination in mind. It’s something that used to calm him a lot as a baby when he was upset. I hope it will work this time.

  “Okay,” he says, his eyes brightening. “Is daddy coming too?”

  An invisible dagger stabs me in the gut. I squeeze my eyes to shut out the pain. Then I open them again and shake my head. “No, baby.”

  “Because he’s sleeping,” he says.

  “Yes.” I don’t have to tell him now that his father will never wake up again.

  I help him get dressed quickly, then we rush downstairs and out the door as he giggles with excitement that breaks my heart.

  Our neighbor, Marjorie Smith, is in her garden watering her daisies while her cane leans against the fence that separates our houses. When she sees me, she stops to stare as she always does, but she doesn’t wave. She never liked me, and I don’t care.

  I ignore her and help Liam into the car. The moment we pull out of the driveway, my eye catches sight of a gray Mercedes turning into our street.

  My blood boils with hate as I watch his car come into full view.

  “It’s grandpa.” Liam hops up and down in his car seat. “Can he come with us?”

  “No, he can’t.” I tighten my hands on the wheel. “This is our alone time.” With that, I step hard on the accelerator, and we drive away in a squeal of tires.

  6

  “Should we eat our breakfast in the park?” I ask Liam, trying to be cheerful while dying inside.

  I’d planned on taking him to a restaurant for breakfast, but Brett was well-known in our small town. It would be a nightmare if someone came up to me and Liam to offer their condolences before I’ve even told him. So, we picked up some sandwiches at a small bakery.

  The park might be a good idea since, at 8:00 a.m., few or no people will be there. It’s also Liam’s happy place. I have no idea if it would make a difference, but I want him to be in a comfortable location when I tell him.

  “It’s early,” Liam replies. The delight in his voice is unmistakable.

  “It is,” I force the words through my throat. “It’s nice to do different things, right?”

  “Yes, like an adventure. You’re the best mommy in the whole world.”

  A tear trickles down my cheek. Before today, I believed those words. But I can’t today, or ever again. The best mom in the world does not kill her child’s father.

  The more time I have to mull everything over, the more I believe that I am guilty. My husband wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for me.

  “And you are the best son in the world,” I return the compliment because I don’t deserve to keep it.

  We drive in silence for a while as I try to decide which of the two parks to take Liam to. I’m grateful that my son is not much of a talker.

  Both parks in town are deserted, just as I’d hoped. It’s no surprise. Who would bring their kids to the park on Thursday morning when they should be at school?

  “Did you sleep well last night?” I’m testing the waters, trying to figure out if he saw or heard anything aside from Cole and I arguing.

  Liam is a deep sleeper, but between the ambulance and the police, there was a lot of commotion in the house.

  “It was fun. There were policemen in my dreams.”

  My stomach tightens and tears prick the corners of my eyes. “It wasn’t a dream,” I say in a strained voice. As soon as the words come out, I inhale sharply, wishing I could take them back. I didn’t mean to speak them out loud.

  Luckily, Liam must not have heard me because he has moved on to another topic.

  “Mommy, there’s the flower park again,” he shouts excitedly, pointing out the window. “I want to go to the flower park.”

  It’s one of the smaller parks and there are brightly colored swings, which Liam loves. Apart from a gray-haired woman taking photos of the roses, no one else is around.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” I say. “Let’s go there.”

  It’s hard trying to be brave in front of my son, to be brave not only for him but for both of us. It’s something I’ll have to do for as long as I live. For the rest of my life, I’ll be watching every word I say to him so he doesn’t find out the truth about his father’s death.

  What if one day he wants to know more than I’m prepared to tell him right now? What if we reach a point where he wants to know more? If the truth ever comes out, will he hate me for what I almost did and for lying to him?

  “I’m so excited.” He laughs and claps his hands. “Is preschool closed?”

  Preschool. I forgot about calling in to tell them Liam wouldn’t be coming because of a death in the family. I’ll have to call them once we’re settled in the park. But then again, they probably already know about Brett.

  I explain to Liam that preschool is open, but I want to spend the day with him.

  The fresh scent of flowers meets us as we exit the car. This time, it does nothing to relax me.

  I hold Liam’s hand tight as we walk on pebbles until we reach the gate. Like a normal child, he’s skipping happily beside me. I hate that I’m about to kill his joy, possibly forever.

  The handle of the small gate is cool to the touch even though the summer sun is beating down on us. It opens with a gentle squeak.

  Instead of sand, most areas of the park are covered in soft artificial grass to cushion the children’s falls. But what about Liam? Once I tell him, will he find a soft place to land?

  Liam wants to go the swings immediately, but I tell him to sit with me on one of the red benches first. It’s right opposite a beautiful bed of roses.

  I pull him onto my lap and hold him tight, pressing my nose into the side of his face, breathing him in. He still smells of the citrus-scented shampoo from his bath yesterday.

  “Mommy, you’re pressing me too hard.” He giggles as he tries to push me away.

  “Sorry.” I release him, but not completely. I wish I could hold him forever. I wish I could protect him from the world.

  I turn him to face me and place my hands on both sides of his face, unable to control my emotions.

  “Why are you crying, Mommy?” He reaches forward and touches my cheek with the tips of his fingers, and the feeling is like butterfly wings against my skin. When he removes them, they’re glistening with my tears.

  “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Stop crying, Mommy.”

  “Mommy is sad.” I blink away the tears. “Baby, daddy is gone.”

  I don’t know if I’m doing it right. I have no idea how one explains death to a small child. He knew Brett was very sick. Once Brett was in so much pain during dinner that Liam asked if he will die. Up to that point, I had no idea he knew what death was. I’ll never forget the terrified look on his face when he sat there, waiting for our response. Right now, I can’t remember what we told him.

  “Where did he go?” he asks, playing with the sandwich bag.

  “To heaven,” I say without hesitation. I have watched several films over the last couple of weeks to try to prepare myself for this moment, but I’m not sure he will be satisfied with my answer.

  “He’s never coming back?” His eyes lower and his eyelashes brush the top of his cheeks.

  I shake my head and lean into him. He doesn’t push me away this time. “He’s not coming back, baby.”

  I’m surprised when Liam doesn’t ask any more questions. Maybe Brett had prepared him for his death.

  “What’s going to happen now?” he finally asks. “Will we go and stay with him in heaven?”

  I want to smile and cry at the same time. “No, not yet. We still have a lot to do on Earth. Daddy is not here anymore, but we have each other.”

  “Is daddy’s pain gone now?” H
e pushes back to gaze into my eyes.

  “Yes, it is.” I thought this would be much harder, but Liam is handling Brett’s death so much better than I am.

  “Okay. I want to play now.” He slides off my lap. He doesn’t even shed one tear.

  I wish I could get inside his head to see what he’s thinking. Has he come to terms with what he heard? Is he trying to escape the conversation because it hurts too much? Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.

  Liam runs around the park with his arms outstretched. “I’m an angel,” he shouts.

  “You are an angel,” I call back.

  He is my angel. If anything is going to hold me together during the next couple of months and years without Brett, it’s going to be him.

  He occasionally comes back to hug me, especially when he sees me crying, then he goes right back to playing. He’s so excited to be at the playground that the sandwiches don’t even interest him.

  When I call the preschool to let them know that Liam won’t be coming, they already know why.

  After about forty minutes, I tell him we need to get back to the house. Hopefully, Cole has already left and isn’t waiting for us to return. He did call my phone, but I didn’t answer. I have nothing to say to him.

  What I do know is that I need to get out of his life.

  I have no idea where Liam and I will go, but we’ll survive.

  The envelope.

  When Brett asked me to help him die, he told me that there’s an envelope in the safe with my name on it. He said if things went wrong, inside it, I’d find everything to help me and Liam escape this toxic environment.

  He knew that it might not work, that I might end up in prison. He knew that euthanasia is a crime in the state of North Carolina. Yet, he begged me to do it anyway. Why would he put me in such a situation?

  Whatever the case, I need to go to the house and get the envelope. Then I’ll pack our things and check into a hotel with Liam for the next few days. I no longer want to be in a house that belongs to Cole. I don’t want him to be a part of our lives under any circumstances.

  Once I buckle Liam inside his car seat, I slide behind the wheel. When I drive past the Black Oyster Hotel, the pain inside my chest flares. The hotel towers above most of the buildings in town, majestic and powerful, as intimidating as its owner. I never want to set foot in there again.

  I hear the wail of sirens before I see the house. I get close enough to see police cars parked outside and people everywhere.

  An ambulance is in front of the house, blocking the street. What happened? Did Cole have a heart attack? His flashy car is parked on the curb.

  I want to drive nearer, to find out what happened, but every fiber in my body is telling me to run. The police probably know how Brett died and they came for me.

  Before anyone can spot me, I turn the car around and drive off. I won’t give them a chance to arrest me.

  The moment the handcuffs click around my wrists, Cole, if he’s not hurt, will take my son. He always gets what he wants. But not this time. This is a fight I will never let him win.

  7

  Cole called my cell phone ten times. Each time, I stared down at the small screen and watched his name flashing across it until it disappeared.

  He’s the last person I ever want to speak to.

  The moment I saw the police in front of the house, I drove to an ATM to withdraw as much money as I could. Once I hit the daily limit, I walked into a bank and asked for a few thousand dollars. When their bank teller asked me to wait, that she needed to discuss something with her manager, I knew that Cole would probably be informed. Money is the only way he can control me now.

  As soon as the teller disappeared to the back, I fled the building and drove to a motel.

  I’m lying on the bed now, my legs crossed while Liam is watching cartoons. My vision is so blurry that I can barely see what’s on the screen.

  I’m so tempted to call Robert Kane and come clean about everything that happened, but I know that Cole would never allow him to believe me. How could I trust him or any other police officer in town? Any man who spends his free time with my so-called father-in-law is not one I am willing to trust.

  I’ve read enough books and watched enough movies to know that it’s not only the guilty who end up behind bars, but also the innocent. Guilt doesn’t matter. All that matters is whether you have a good and expensive lawyer or not, and since I cannot afford one, it would be stupid of me to take the risk.

  I’m innocent, but people might not believe me.

  Euthanasia is a very controversial topic, and there are many people who believe it’s murder. I used to be one of them.

  No, the most reasonable thing I can do right now is to lay low.

  But where could I hide so Cole can’t find us?

  When I finally find the courage to listen to Cole’s messages, I regret it. Every one of his words drips with poison that sickens me, even though he’s not around.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks from the other end. “Do you really think you can run from the law?”

  I glance at the nape of Liam’s neck. I watch my little boy pushing his hand into a bag of chips.

  What if what I’m doing is wrong? What if it hurts him in the long run?

  Then again, I can’t imagine hurting him more than Cole could. Even though what I’m doing will make me look even more guilty to a lot of people, I need to do this.

  “You can run, but I will find you,” Cole continues. “And trust me, I will make you suffer before I hand you over to the police. You are a murderer and you will pay. You hear me?”

  I switch off the phone. I can’t bear to hear more. It hurts too much. I don’t know whether I’ll ever have the courage to switch it on again.

  I need to leave town. There’s no reason for me to stay. My father-in-law is a psychopath, and I don’t really have friends. The only friends I used to have were my colleagues at the hotel, but as soon as I married Brett, they all pulled away from me. When I tried to reach out to them, especially to Denise Sanchez, who I really liked, Brett discouraged me from speaking to “the help.” I knew then that it was not his decision, but his father’s.

  I tried to make friends with the people in his circle, but even though they never said it, they all believed that I married Brett for his money. They secretly despised me. They never thought a woman who didn’t come from money deserved to be his wife. So, I was alone for most of my marriage with Brett.

  But that wasn’t new to me. I have been a loner since my childhood. I know how to retreat to a deep place inside of me, to hide from the world.

  When Liam was born, he became my best friend. I had always wanted my husband to be my best friend. I consider a friend to be someone you can tell all your deep and dark secrets. Brett was never that person, and now he never could be.

  Now my relationship with Liam is threatened by the secret I will have to keep from him forever.

  I wish I could go back to the house to get the envelope Brett left behind. From the way he said it, I suspected there would be some passports and maybe money to help me and Liam start over. But going back there is too much of a risk. I’m pretty sure the cops are watching the house. Cole is probably there waiting for me.

  I feel stuck, terrified, and empty.

  Growing up as an orphan, I thought I knew what loneliness was. I thought I knew what emptiness was, but as it turns out, I had no idea. This is true loneliness, and coupled with fear, it’s starting to suffocate me.

  I don’t like it when Liam watches too much TV. I want him to play games and read books, but right now I’ve never been more grateful for television. As long as his eyes are fixed on the screen, we don’t have to speak.

  I never thought there would come a day when I didn’t want to speak to my son. I’m terrified of the questions he will ask, dreading the look in his eyes as he searches mine for answers and the truth.

  I don’t want to have to lie to him about what really ha
ppened to his father. One day he will ask, but until then, I will have enough time to get my story straight.

  I curl into a fetal position, hugging my middle with both my arms.

  I’m not a criminal. I don’t know what criminals do in these situations. I don’t know how one goes about trying to disappear. I don’t even know whether I can disappear without being caught. For all I know, the police are guarding the entrance to Fort Haven, checking each car that comes and goes.

  I can’t think. I’m too exhausted by trying to keep myself sane. My anxiety is at its peak right now, and I don’t even have my medication.

  I do the only thing I have the power to do. I sleep. I need to stay awake, to keep watch, but my eyes are closing involuntarily. Maybe sleep will help clear my head, so I can come up with a plan.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, but the sound of the TV blaring wakes me up again. For a moment, I think Liam has fallen asleep next to me, but he’s awake and still eating his chips. Since I never let him watch that much TV, he’s making the most of it.

  As soon as I move, Liam looks at me excitedly. “Mommy,” he points at the TV screen, “Janella is on TV. Look at her picture.”

  Liam is right. He has changed the channel. Instead of the cartoon channel, he’s watching the news. My eyes widen with shock as I try to focus on the TV screen. My heart jumps to my throat and I sit up. It takes a moment for me to take in what’s in front of me.

  The headline that scrolls across the screen causes blood to rush to my head.

  Meghan Wilton wanted for the murder of her husband and housekeeper.

  Swallowing down the bile that’s pushing its way up my throat, I act fast. It’s only a matter of time before they show my picture.

  I grab the remote from Liam and switch off the TV.

  “No!” Liam shouts, trying to take back the remote. “They said your name. You’re famous. Let’s watch.”

  I can’t respond to him. I’m still trying to digest what I read.

  What the hell is going on?

  “I’ll be... I’ll be right back.” I get to my feet and charge into the small bathroom, still clutching the remote. I’m afraid he might switch the TV back on.