A Life Well-Hidden

by Emily Nealis

  A chill settled into the air as Adam finally stepped out of the shed. He glanced at his watch, he’d been working on the generator for hours. However, working had a fluid meaning; the truth was that he’d been stalling, killing time until he had to go back to the house. Earlier in the evening, he’d watched in horror as Haley picked up his phone and answered a phone call he could only assume was from Diana. It had to be her. He never received business calls this late in the evening. Who else would be calling him on his work phone at that hour? This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. And, hours later, he still hadn’t been able to devise a solution that didn’t result in catastrophe. Adam slid the wooden door shut, chips of peeling paint breaking free, fluttering to the ground. He turned around, surveying the lawn and the asphalt path back to the house. There was no sense in prolonging the inevitable. There was nothing else to be done outside, in the dark. He would have to go back to the house eventually, and Haley would still be there waiting for him. Shoving his fists in his coat pockets, he began the walk toward the house, the windows still glowing orange like beacons in the autumn night.

  If Diana had revealed the nature of her relationship with Adam, all he could feel toward her was hatred and rage for creating such chaos. There were ways to go about such delicate situations, to mitigate as much damage as possible. Now, it would be nothing but damage control and a fight for access to his children. Adam couldn't forgive Diana for that—for forcing his hand like that. The choice became obvious. Diana, with her actions, ruined any chance at all that she and Adam could be together. Instead, Adam would have to do everything he could to salvage his marriage.

  Back inside the house, Diana waited on the edge of the bar stool to hear what Haley lied about. She found it difficult to believe Haley could lie about anything. Maybe she lied all the time, Diana thought, covering for her husband, making excuses as to why he was so volatile and more difficult to deal with than other men. Maybe she didn’t know any different. Haley inhaled deeply before continuing her story.

  “Years ago, before June was born, I had a miscarriage—multiple ones, in fact.” Haley explained, leaning against her arm on the counter.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Diana replied, raising her glass to her lips. She already knew this, of course, from her numerous conversations with Adam. Diana assumed she knew almost everything about Adam and Haley’s life at this point. She was mistaken, of course, there were always details hidden—kept concealed from prying eyes.

  “Thank you,” Haley slid her empty glass toward the edge of the sink, “That was the last time I questioned whether I should have been with Adam, until now. Years ago, before we were married, my family hated him. They didn’t want me to be with him and they thought he would ruin my life. I ended up leaving, and I didn’t speak to my family for years,” Haley gazed across the dining room, shaking her head, “And that’s how it was—just Adam and me. We fought a lot back then, about a lot of things. Finally, I stopped fighting with him. I don’t really know why, maybe I was just tired, exhausted from how much effort it took to stand next to him rather than behind him. Maybe it was because I didn’t have anyone else but him.

  One night, before the girls were born, something happened. We went out with a friend, Jason Kerrigan, and he and Adam got into an argument. It was an argument about me; Jason didn’t like the way Adam spoke to me. It was different than another person telling me this, though, because Jason said all of it to Adam in front of me. Eventually, we parted ways with Jason and went home, where the two of us also ended up arguing. Adam left the house, angry, but he came back about an hour later. When I saw him, his shirt was covered in blood.”

  Haley stared at Diana, the first neutral person to enter the Hunt’s home. Haley knew it was a possibility this would never happen again, or at least in the foreseeable future. It was as though the universe conspired, through a seemingly random chain of events, to place Diana in Haley’s kitchen for the sole purpose of listening to Haley’s story. Haley knew it was now or never; there might not ever be another opportunity.

  “I think Adam killed Jason Kerrigan.” Haley paused, her eyes scanning the surface of the counter. She took another breath, her skeptical expression transforming into one of hardened determination, “I know he killed Jason Kerrigan.”

  Diana clasped her hands together, intertwining her fingers, squeezing them together until her knuckles turned white as she considered her response. For a moment, she had nothing, only the increasing tension in the room as Haley poured forth revelation after revelation with no indication of stopping. Diana inhaled and exhaled steadily, watching Haley. She was telling the truth, she believed everything she was telling Diana, there was no question.

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “No,” Haley shook her head and rolled her eyes in disgust, “He said he was jumped by some crazy guy on drugs. Adam said they ended up in an all-out fight on the ground and the guy pulled a knife on him. Adam was cut a couple of times, but he was able to knock the guy out with a rock and get away.” As Diana listened to Haley, she noticed Haley’s gaze drift away from her, as though she were looking past Diana into the empty space. Haley paused momentarily, as though she were experiencing that night all over again. After a moment, Haley shook her head, returning to the present.

  “He said he didn’t know what happened to the guy that attacked him, but he came home covered in his blood, someone else’s blood, a story about a mugger that disappeared into the night, and days later, the person he argued with that same night turns up dead. I know Adam,” Haley lowered her voice, leaning toward Diana, “I know what he can do. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

  To Diana’s surprise, for as many secrets as Haley divulged in the last few minutes, she overcame the initial shock and realized that she believed Haley because she’d seen the same rage in Adam that Haley described. They were moments that drew second glances, indications that something was off-kilter, that something was slightly off. It was easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. Haley straightened up, rolling her shoulders back in subtle defiance.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I kept Adam’s shirt from that night. He thought I got rid of it—that I burned it or destroyed it. Instead, I folded it up, wrapped it inside a paper grocery bag, and stuffed it in a storage box in our basement. It moved here with us, and it’s been sitting in our attic for years, in the same box, until now.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “When I found out about that,” Haley nodded toward her phone, “I took it out of the attic and I met with a lawyer. I told him everything about that night, I signed a statement, and put everything in a safe deposit box. I told him that if anything happened to me between that day and when I deal with Adam, then he would know the whole story, he would know what happened to me, and he would have the evidence to prove it.”

  “What are you going to do with it?” Diana asked, trying to process Haley’s very logical and well-thought out contingency plan. The two women were no longer speaking about philandering husbands and marital discord; they were now in fact speaking about life and death.

  “That depends on Adam. The fact of the matter is that there is no trust anymore. And what kind of marriage can you have without trust? But I’m also aware of the reality of the situation—I could never take my girls away from their father. He’s a good father, and they need him, even if he is a complete fraud. They’re better off with Adam in their lives than without him, at least until they’re grown. I also know Adam is worth more to me if we’re still married. I know the divorce laws; this is a no-fault state. That disgusting picture doesn’t mean a thing, it’s just proof that he’s a terrible husband. I could divorce Adam and end up with nothing,” Haley shrugged, “or I can give him a choice. Either, he can legally relinquish complete control of our finances to me and live in a way I see fit, or I can put him away and take everything from him anyway. In which case, it will be enough to at least start over w
ithout him.”

  “Will that work? Would he go along with that?” Diana felt ridiculous after asking this question. This was the woman who knew more about Adam than anyone; she knew the secrets buried in his past even he was unaware still existed.

  Diana realized that Haley was no simpleton, no ignorant country bumpkin from the sticks. This was the real Haley Hunt. It was as though she’d laid dormant, in waiting, for so many years until the tectonic plates beneath her shifted enough to light a fire in her core and bring her back to life. Haley felt this liberation as soon as she uttered those words to Diana, Adam killed Jason Kerrigan. It was as though Jason wasn’t only Jason, but he also represented every other painful moment in Haley’s life, all of which were associated with Adam to some degree. All those years, Haley did nothing when Adam acted the way he did, perhaps because she thought it was too late or that she didn’t know any better. By then, Haley already decided that Adam was who he was going to be and she’d chosen him, for better or for worse.

  Diana had done none of these things. She drew her own conclusions about Adam before sinking deeper into a relationship that, fortunately for her, would never come to fruition. In a strange irony, it was realizing that this relationship would never happen that ultimately prevented further heartache. Haley’s own saga with Adam, in a sense, spared Diana the years of oppression Haley herself had endured. But even after all that time, through the good years and bad, Haley kept that shirt, folded up in a bag inside of a box. She could have burned it or she could have lost it, but she kept it. She kept it because she knew there was something wrong.

  “What could Adam say—that I blackmailed him? So what? He still murdered someone, and wives can suspect things without knowing whether they’re true. In this case, I happen to be right. With his history of anger issues, documented by medical professionals and marriage counselors, I could take everything from him. But where would that leave me? He’s more valuable as a free man. He’s not completely stupid—he knows this.”

  For a brief moment, Diana was struck with admiration for Haley’s rationality. Her ability to respond to such an emotionally-charged situation with logic and calculation was unexpected, even for the most level-headed of individuals. Perhaps reaching out to Diana—as opportunistic as it was—satisfied any emotional need Haley felt for reassurance or validation. Diana was the impartial listener who would soon disappear again with no risk of revealing the sensitive nature of their conversation. After all, Haley thought, what personal stake could Diana have in this debacle involving people she had minimal connection to?

  However, Diana’s admiration was short-lived. With each passing second, her esteem for Haley’s logic and forethought faded and was replaced by horror. This man had murdered another person—his friend, no less. If Adam could do that to a friend, what could he do to someone he didn’t even like? Haley described this plan of hers with deadly accuracy, but it was as though she was discussing how to discipline one of her children rather than the prospect of her husband having murdered another human being. This wasn’t just another bar fight with her loose cannon of a husband. Was this what happened to Haley after spending so many years with Adam Hunt? Was she brainwashed, delusional, or just her own unique brand of insane?

  Your daughters need their father? Their father is a murderer! Your husband is a murderer and you’re worried about a paycheck? Who cares? Get a job like everyone else!

  But Diana didn’t say any of this. Instead, she took a more diplomatic approach, driven by her increasing sense of self-preservation. She was sitting inside Haley and Adam’s house, at their kitchen counter; she couldn’t outright tell Haley she was crazy.

  “I think,” Diana looked down at the counter for a moment, then back up at Haley, “I think you’re doing the right thing.”

  Not a second later, the two women heard the side door open in the corner of the kitchen. Adam appeared in the doorway, scraping his boots across the doormat.

  After wiping the soles of his boots on the doormat in the laundry room between the garage and kitchen doors, Adam looked up to see two women staring at him from the kitchen. One of them was his wife, leaning against the edge of the sink. The other was Diana Sanderson, who he never would have expected to be sitting inside his house at that very moment. She sat behind the counter in one of the bar chairs, a blank look across her face, devoid of any emotion. Haley stared back at him, calm, also with an expression he was unable to read.

  Any other man would have lost his cool right then and there, overcome by anxiety. But not Adam; no one spoke yet, and therefore he still had time to evaluate the situation.

  “Hey.” Adam exhaled, taking a confident posture as he glanced back and forth between them. He would do nothing but indicate this was an ordinary evening, even with an unexpected visitor sitting at his kitchen counter.

  Haley motioned to Diana.

  “You remember Diana Sanderson, Carolyn’s friend from the wedding?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Adam nodded, raising his hand in a greeting, “It’s been a long time, but I remember.” The irony of his statement was heavy in the room. As she watched the two of them, Diana could do nothing but marvel at Haley’s ability to compartmentalize the situation enough to act like a normal human being when Adam entered the house. Only moments ago, the personal details of his life were laid bare between Haley and Diana on the kitchen countertop. Diana raised her wine glass in Adam’s direction.

  “Indeed.” She agreed before taking a sip. Haley watched Adam peel off his Carhartt jacket and hang it on the hook right inside the laundry room. I know, god damnit, Haley thought, I know everything you’ve done! Diana’s words were fresh in her mind, the validation of her decision to deal with Adam on her terms. Adam would have liked Haley to think she had no control, that she relied on him and couldn’t live without him. But Haley knew how to hit him where it hurt.

  “So, what have you been up to?” Adam asked Diana, settling back against the edge of the stove.

  “Apparently, I had Haley’s vacuum cleaner and didn’t realize it. I borrowed it from Carolyn and Haley needed it, so I brought it over.” Diana motioned toward the vacuum cleaner sitting next to the front door across the living room. Who knew such an insignificant appliance could be the catalyst for such a dramatic evening? Adam nodded in acknowledgement—Why would Haley call up Diana directly and ask her to come to their house for that? Why wouldn’t she ask Carolyn to bring it back?

  As they discussed the vacuum cleaner, Adam began to speculate. Adam saw Haley answer his phone and he saw how upset she was when she hung up. What if they were in collusion with one another? What if they were setting him up? But that wasn’t like Haley—she didn’t have it in her. At the very least, Haley couldn’t sit still enough to discuss such a thing with Diana. Haley also wouldn’t believe something like that without proof. Then again, Diana had a wealth of proof—six months of proof—to corroborate a story like that. That was Adam’s fault for getting so comfortable and not thinking that Diana could betray him like that.

  Adam resolved not to speak first, but listen and react to what each of them said. While he poured over possible scenarios in his head, Diana watched both Haley and Adam from her seat at the counter, aware that she possessed far more information than either of them realized. The three of them were engaging in a secret conversation where everyone possessed different pieces of the same story, but no one wanted to acknowledge what that story was. It was apparent that Haley was on the verge of bringing destruction to Adam’s life, and Adam was caught off guard by Diana’s presence in the house, blithely unaware of what was even happening. Meanwhile, Diana was still trying to comprehend both Haley and Adam’s level of delusion. The mere sight of Adam disgusted Diana; his smug, yet personable demeanor, the way he stood in the middle of the kitchen acting completely oblivious. Adam Hunt was nothing but a coward and a phony.

  “Apparently, I caught Diana just in time, before she left town for good.” Haley chuckled, unaware of the weight of this particular c
omment. Diana cringed slightly, pursing her lips. She felt an overwhelming urge to flee the house right then and there.

  I’m going to die in this house.

  The last thing Diana wanted was to contribute to the tension already mounting in the kitchen. Then again, maybe it was better that Haley, Adam’s wife, informed him that his ex-pseudo-girlfriend was leaving town and hadn’t bothered to tell him.

  “Left town?” Adam was curious, but nonchalant. Diana nodded, reciprocating his artificial emotion with convenient ignorance.