by Willow Rose
She looks back into Peter’s eyes while Daniel’s eyes fill with tears. He can’t wait to tell his mother and siblings. Now they have to believe him.
“I believe I can teach you to speak, Peter,” Kristin says. “Not with your mouth, but with your hands. It’s about time your family hears what you have to say.”
Chapter Sixteen
January 2016
I work on the article for the next several days and manage to write something that I end up trashing by the weekend. On Friday night, we decide to put on a movie for all of us to see. We even roll my dad’s bed into the living room, so he can join us. We rent the new Mission Impossible and I make the popcorn and find the candy. I feed my dad while we watch it. Salter is allowed to stay up late. It’s not something I let him do often, since he doesn’t do well with not getting his sleep. Halfway through the movie, I look at Joey, and realize he is not watching. He’s on his phone.
“Tom Cruise just died and you missed it because you were texting,” I say and poke him with my elbow.
“Sorry,” he says, and puts the phone away.
A few minutes pass, but I’m not watching the movie anymore. Something in his expression worries me. I know it is silly, but I have to ask. So, I do it as casually as I know how to.
“So, who was it?” I ask without looking at him. I pretend to watch the movie.
“Nobody,” he says.
Not the answer I am looking for.
“You mean it’s nobody that I know?” I ask, still looking at the screen.
Salter is hushing me now. I feed my dad a cookie. He enjoys it. One of the few joys he has these days. I can feel my heart is beating faster and it annoys me immensely. I recognize this feeling from back when we lived in New York. Back when I found out about him and that girl from the coffeehouse. It’s the awful feeling that your beloved is hiding something from you. After this many years together, you just know something is off. And then comes the feeling of guilt for thinking like this. Because, what if you’re wrong? What if it really was nobody?
But it is somebody. You saw the look in his eyes. He is hiding something. He doesn’t want you to know who it was.
Oh, my. I can sense how the paranoia is running away with me now and I don’t like it. I am not paying any attention to the movie anymore, especially not when Joey’s phone vibrates again and he picks it up. I pretend not to notice he is reading something, and soon after, answering it. It makes my blood boil. I have no idea what to do. Should I ask again? I don’t want to be this obsessive woman who wants to know and control everything he does, but I can’t stop thinking about it. No matter what I do, I am screwed. If I don’t say anything, I’ll be wondering about this all night, and Joey will sense it and think I’m mad. I’ll tell him I am not angry, and he’ll just be annoyed with me because he can feel that I am. If I do say something, he’ll get angry and think I am possessive and that I don’t trust him. Which, I don’t. To be perfectly honest, I don’t. He did it before and, yes, I know the circumstances were different; he was in a terrible place, he was bored and feeling left out of my life. I know it was different, but still. What if? Why does there always have to be a what if?
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Joey finishes the text and puts the phone away. I try not to think about it anymore and feed my dad another cookie, while eating one myself. Soon, I can’t stop. I have eaten four, five cookies. I had promised myself no sweets tonight, but now I can’t stop. It’s like I am trying to stuff my emotions back into my body by putting food on top of them. Like I am pressing my tears back with cookies. It makes me feel slightly better, but only for a few minutes.
“That is so cool!” Salter exclaims. “Did you see that, Mom?” he looks at me and I blush because I have no idea what happened in the movie. I nod.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“You know that Tom Cruise does all of his stunts himself, right?” Salter says. “I think that is awesome.”
“That is awesome,” I say, and look at Joey. I swallow the lump in my throat. Joey smiles at me.
“Come here,” he says, and pulls me closer. He starts to kiss me on the neck and nibble my ear.
I sigh and try to enjoy it, while Tom Cruise jumps on a motorcycle.
“I was wondering when he would do that,” Joey says.
“Do what?” I ask absent-mindedly. I keep thinking about his phone and wondering if I can somehow get to look at it without him noticing it. I feel so silly for thinking like this, but if it is just an old friend he is texting, if it is just nobody, then it would certainly comfort me knowing so.
“The bike. I was wondering when he would ride one. He always does at some point.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I don’t think he rode one in Edge of Tomorrow,” I say.
“Yes, he totally did,” Joey says.
“I don’t think he did,” I repeat.
“Well, he did.”
“Wanna bet?” I ask.
“Sure. You do the dishes the next two days if I’m right,” he says. “And you give me a massage before bedtime.”
“That’s a lot,” I say. “If I win, you do the same for me.”
We shake hands on it, and as we let go, I put out my hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll check it.”
“Why don’t you use your own?” Joey complains.
“My phone is in the kitchen, charging. I’ll miss out on the movie.”
“We can stop the movie.”
“Come on. I don’t want to have to get up,” I say. “Just give me yours and I’ll check it.”
Joey looks at me like he doesn’t want to. It makes it even harder on me. “What? Are you afraid I’ll win?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll do it,” he says, and takes out the phone.
Damn it. He didn’t fall for it. And here I thought I was being so clever.
“We’ll do it together,” I say and crawl up next to him, so I can look at what he is doing.
He opens the Internet and starts the search. It doesn’t take him long to find something about Tom Cruise and the movies he rides a bike in. As he opens the link, he receives a text again. I see it on the top of his phone. I can’t see what it says, but I do manage to see that the name of the sender is Jack.
“You got a text,” I say. “Don’t you want to read it?”
“Nah. It’s not important. Just some work I might get.”
“That is important. Are you kidding me? That’s great.”
He shrugs. “You know how it is. I’m not celebrating till I’m sure I have it. Too many times I’ve been disappointed.”
“I understand,” I say, but feel like celebrating myself. I was just a fool for being suspicious. Never have I felt so relieved. For once, I did the right thing in not making an issue out of it. Jack is just some guy Joey knows, and it is probably just about work. Joey was right. It is just a nobody.
Chapter Seventeen
January 2016
“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”
Marcia is staring at the man in front of her. Her nostrils are flaring. Her blood is rushing through her veins. In her hand, she is holding a kitchen knife. The kids are all out, except the youngest, Tim, who is sitting on the couch coloring in a book. She’s wondering if she will be able to protect him if this intruder tries to grab him.
“Get out!”
The man in her kitchen shakes his head. “But…”
Marcia is swinging the knife in front of her. “I swear, I’ll hurt you. Don’t come any closer!”
The man looks startled, almost desperate. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m your renter. Harry Hanson? I moved in almost a week ago?”
Marcia stares at the man. She is baffled. What is this? A joke? “Renter?” she says.
“Yes. I live in the room upstairs. You told me I could stay there and use the kitchen when I needed to.”
Marcia’s pulse lowers.
A renter? I have a renter? How is this possible?
“But…I
just put the ad in yesterday,” she says. She lowers the knife a little, then pulls it back up with a grunt. “Is this a trick? You’re not fooling me.”
“No! It’s not a trick! I paid you three hundred dollars. All my stuff is upstairs. I’m beginning to think you’re the one trying to trick me.”
“Don’t turn this around on me,” Marcia says. “You’re just trying to confuse me and trick me. What do you want from me? I don’t have any money, if that’s what you think.”
“I don’t want your money. I just came down to make myself a cup of coffee,” the man says, and shows her a jar of Nescafé in his hand. “I brought my own coffee, if you’re afraid I’ll take yours.”
“It’s true, Mom,” Tim yells from the couch. “Don’t you recognize Harry? He made us lasagna yesterday when you didn’t come home for dinner.”
Marcia looks at the boy, then back at the man. “But yesterday we went to Beef O’ Brady’s. Kids eat free on Tuesdays. You had chicken wings, remember? You spilled on your white shirt?” she says.
“It’s Saturday today,” Harry says.
“Yeah. That was last week, Mom,” Tim says.
Marcia feels dizzy and stumbles backward. She sits on a chair and puts the knife down. “It was last week? But…but…”
“It’s okay, Mom. You’re just forgetful.” He looks at Harry. “I told you she’s forgetful. Sometimes she even forgets to come home.”
Marcia looks at her boy. She understands nothing. It’s a horrible feeling. What happened? Where has she been? What has she done? She remembers nothing. Not even Harry.
What the hell is happening to me?
She bursts into a loud fit of laughter and points her finger at Harry. “Gotcha. I was just kidding. Of course I remember Harry Handsome,” she says, and winks at the boy. The boy shrugs.
“It’s true,” he says, addressed to Harry. “You are kind of handsome.” The boy then turns around and returns to his coloring book.
Marcia avoids looking at Harry. She really doesn’t remember him at all, and wonders how this could have happened. She turns her back on him and puts on a kettle of water.
“It should be done soon,” she says. “I have to…”
Harry steps aside and Marcia hurries to her bedroom and closes the door behind her. Breathing heavily, she goes through her drawers, but finds no bottles. She curses and throws her clothes on the floor angrily. She is so sure she hid a bottle in the bottom drawer. She always has an extra, an emergency bottle. Who took it? Could it be this Harry-figure? There is something about him she doesn’t like.
Instead of the bottle, she finds a bottle of pills, and she swallows some quickly and washes them down with an old glass of water from her bedside. She looks at her bed. It doesn’t look like anyone slept in it last night. She doesn’t remember making it this morning. Did she even sleep here last night?
Chapter Eighteen
January 2016
I go to Sandra’s and ring the doorbell around noon. I have Snowflake and Clyde with me on leashes, and they are both jumping up and down with excitement. I think they can smell Sandra’s dog, Lucky the Chihuahua. She opens with a smile and I am surprised to see her this happy.
“Hey. I was wondering if you would take a walk with me on the beach today? I know Ryan is working at my dad’s lot, so I thought you might have some time. We could bring all the dogs and hope the cops don’t catch us? What do you say? Let’s be daredevils for once.”
Lucky is barking on the other side of the door. Snowflake can hear him and gets overly excited. I can hardly hold him. Clyde is barking back.
“I would love to, but I have someone here.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re not alone.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, though.”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it. So who is it? Who’s here?”
“Alex. Alex is here.” She sounds funny when she says his name.
“Alex? Well I won’t disturb, then,” I say.
“Oh, you’re not disturbing. We were just talking about you, as a matter of fact.”
“About me?”
“Well. No. Not really. I don’t know why I said that. We were talking about back in the days when you and I were best friends and…and Alex and I were…well, you know,” she says with a nervous laugh.
I get a feeling I don’t like. “Listen, Sandra,” I say with a whisper. “I know that things haven’t been easy lately, but this is not the answer. You’re both married.”
The look in her eyes changes drastically. “What are you implying? Why would you say such a thing?”
“I just don’t want to see you make a mistake you’ll later regret.”
“I…I really don’t appreciate this, Mary,” she says, and comes out and pulls the door closed behind her. “Alex and I are friends, nothing more. Besides, do you really think he would be interested in me, that anyone would be interested in me now that I look…like this…like this…monster. Do you?”
I feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Sandra. I just worry about you, that’s all. I don’t know what it is about me lately. I seem to think everyone is having an affair. Last night I was certain Joey was texting with some girl, and it turned out to be this guy named Jack. I am sorry…I see ghosts. I guess I’m damaged after what happened to us in New York.”
Sandra’s eyes calm down as well. “Well, no one could blame you for being suspicious. It must be difficult to trust him again.”
“I try, but it really is,” I say. “Say, do you want me to take Lucky with me to the beach? He sounds like he would enjoy a good walk and playtime with the others.”
“Would you? That would be awesome,” Sandra says. “I haven’t been out with him much lately, and he really loves the beach. Just don’t get him arrested, though,” she says with a small laugh.
“I won’t,” I say. “I’ll take his place if needed.”
She finds the leash and hands me Lucky. Minutes later, I have crossed the street and am standing with my toes in the sand watching the waves. It’s pretty flat today, so no surfing, but that’s okay. I am still very sore. As I walk, I wonder once again about Joey and me. I really hate that feeling I had the night before, and I don’t want to live a life constantly being afraid of what he is up to. I want to trust him, I really do. But am I able to?
I put my feet in the water and walk the three dogs all the way to Sixteenth Street and back. I enjoy the fresh air and the dogs running playfully around my feet.
When I get back to Sandra’s house and walk past the kitchen window, I see them. I stop with a small gasp as I watch Sandra and Alex engaged in a long, deep kiss.
Chapter Nineteen
January 2016
Kelly is standing in her kitchen. She is looking at the ocean outside her windows. This fall has caused a lot of beach erosion, and the water is coming up closer to the house than usual.
Melbourne Beach. She never did like it much down here. Being from upstate New York, she thinks it’s too hot and humid down here in Florida. But her husband loves it, and when they married this was where he wanted to live. This is where he grew up. For his sake, she pretends to enjoy it.
Andrew loves to fish on his boat, and today he has taken their daughter Lindsey with him. Kelly hates it when they go together. She always worries that something will happen to their fragile daughter.
“She’s not a strong swimmer,” she constantly tells him. She doesn’t feel like he understands how delicate their daughter is. She’s afraid that Andrew wants her to be the boy he never had, and she can’t be. The girl suffers from severe asthma that has destroyed many nights of sleep for them, especially when she was younger.
Kelly feels a chill go through her bones. Not because it’s cold, but because she can’t stop imagining Lindsey hurting herself on a hook or a spear. She looks out at the raging ocean, while peeling an apple with a small knife in her hand. She is making a fruit salad for herself for lunch. She looks at the phone next to her on the counter, waiting, ant
icipating it ringing and a voice telling her that something has gone wrong, that her daughter is in the hospital. She goes through all the scenarios in her mind, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Maybe they didn’t even make it to the boat. They could have been in a car accident. What if there’s a thunderstorm while they’re on the ocean? Even though thunderstorms are rare in January, they do appear sometimes.
Kelly doesn’t understand this sudden worry. She’s not usually the worrying type. She just can’t escape this unease. She has been feeling it ever since that night when Lindsey came to their room and told them she heard a loud noise and that there was a light on in the living room. She knows it’s silly, but Kelly can’t escape the thought that something bad is about to happen.
Evil forebodings, the Bible calls it. Do not let your heart get worried or troubled. You know it’s all in your head, Kelly. Gotta shake it.
The morning after the incident at night, Kelly had realized that their telescope in the back of the living room, by the window, was tipped over. Naturally, Kelly couldn’t help wondering if that had caused the loud bang that Lindsey talked about. But who had tipped it over? Lindsey while sleepwalking? That was the logical explanation, but Kelly didn’t feel so sure. Why didn’t it wake her up? Was she also the one who had turned on the light? And then what? Gone back to bed again? It was possible, but didn’t satisfy her.
“What if someone was in our house?” she asked her husband, but he didn’t want to hear about it.
“You’re seeing ghosts,” he simply said, then left for his important meeting with another client whose land he is going to develop into yet another massive area of houses and lucrative condos.
Maybe she was. But, then again, maybe she wasn’t. She decided to let it go till two days later when she came home with her groceries, and as she put the key in the lock, she heard a loud noise in the back. She walked inside and realized the door to the porch was wide open. There was sand on the floor in her bedroom, and one of the drawers was open. Nothing was stolen.