LETHAL OBSESSION

by Carey Regenold

  Ellen's intention was not to make any major changes. Mark had tutored her well concerning the ins and outs of how the various corporations operated. Anderson Enterprises was a large umbrella under which various smaller companies were viable. Mark was very proud of the fact that all products sponsored by his corporation were manufactured in the United States. He believed in recycling and sustainable energy, a lover of our planet.

  The CEOs were hand-picked and everything was running like a well oiled machine. For that, Ellen was extremely grateful. The last thing she wanted to do was step into her husband's shoes. Mark always said she had a head for business but Ellen didn't believe that about herself.

  She took a deep breath. "Well, here goes nothing," she said to herself. Just then her cell-phone vibrated making her startle. She pulled it from her pocket checking the display. With a slight frown, Ellen took the call. Where did he get her number?

  "Hello Gene," she put the phone to her ear while gathering her paperwork.

  "Hi Ellen, just checking in to see how you're doing today. I sure did enjoy those muffins yesterday morning."

  "I'm glad you did. Actually I'm just getting ready to go into a business meeting."

  "Well I won't keep you then. You sound busy."

  "Good-bye Gene."

  Ellen looked at her cell trying to figure out what she was feeling. She owed Gene for getting her into the crash site, but her life was shattered. Ellen wasn't ready for this man or any man to enter her world. Perhaps this was just a courtesy call, but she knew better. Sheriff Stone was a busy elected official. One call to see how she was doing after they visited the site should have been sufficient. Daily calls from him seemed weird. It was time to put the sheriff out of her mind. There were much more important issues to tackle. Ellen switched off her cell phone so no call would come in during the meeting.

  Even though she knew these people, her heart was erratically beating. How does one talk about a tragedy like this? She could barely face it herself.

  Ellen stood in front of a sea of suited, serious faced men and women. The silence was deafening as everybody watched her and waited. For mere seconds Ellen couldn't think of a single word to say to these loyal employees. The tension in the room felt like pea soup. Ellen took a deep breath and spoke from her heart.

  "I miss him too. You can't imagine, or maybe you can. I know very few details of the crash but I'll tell you what I know."

  "Carl, are we online?" She spoke to the telecommunications engineer.

  "Yes, Mrs. Anderson. You're good to go."

  "Thank you Carl. There was a freak, violent thunderstorm around Asheville, North Carolina on the day Mark was coming home from a meeting in New York City. He called in a May Day after his right engine was struck by lightning and caught fire. That's when the Ashville airport tower lost Mark's jet from radar."

  "The FAA is conducting an investigation. I don't know how long this is going to take. I did go to the crash site. I didn't get permission but just sort of crashed the site if you know what I mean. She could feel the execs relaxing, looking more human, more emotional. I needed to see it for myself. I plan on having a memorial service at some point. I will let everybody know when."

  "I guess what's really important here is not how Mark died. We know he's gone. What's important is where do we go from here? For that I will need your help. Mark taught me the workings of Anderson Enterprises, but you have been running it. I know what my husband would've wanted. Mark would want you to continue the exemplary work that has made him so proud of you. Mark Anderson was my life. I know how he felt concerning your work and dedication. For that reason I will carry on his legacy. There will be no changes at Anderson Enterprises."

  "Like I said, I will need your help these next few weeks, months and years. I will need you because you see I'm not sure how to get on with this business of living without him." Ellen's voice was cracking. Her throat was aching with unshed tears. It was so hard not to break down and sob, but it was imperative she show strength and be strong for Mark. "I guess that's the end of my speech." Ellen wiped at a stray tear. "Does anybody have questions?"

  Ellen noticed the wet cheeks and the hankies. She hoped she was doing the right thing. If somehow she managed to endear herself to these people, then her husband could rest in peace. Mark's larger wedding band dangled behind her own. As her fingers toyed with it, Ellen saw people leave their chairs and approach her. Then she found herself swept up in comforting hugs and tears.

  Walking out to the patio, Ellen sat in her cushioned chaise lounge and looked up at the inky summer sky. Trillions of stars blinked back at her. Night creatures called from the forest. Crickets chirped. A whippoorwill called to his mate. A barn owl crooned. A coyote mourned out his lonely song. Ellen allowed the sounds of nature to lull her.

  She willed her mind to go blank. If she didn't get a break from it, the agony in her life could easily consume her. Ellen swirled amber liquid around in a crystal tumbler. The liquor was unlocking things deep inside. Her body and mind slowly relaxed. Pain was there but receded. She gazed at the black night sky.

  “Are you up there Mark?” Can you see me? Do you have any idea how much I miss you, how I long for you? I'm not blaming you for what happened. I know you promised me we'd live happily ever after. Well now we know like all fairy tales, this ever after thing is a myth. So now what am I supposed to do with the rest of my life?"

  "You hired smart executives who could run the business without you. You did it so we could travel and spend time together, and we have. I'm filled with wonderful memories of our adventures. I just wasn't prepared for it all to end. The thing is Anderson Enterprises doesn't need me either. My life is stretching in front of me like a lonely highway. What am I supposed to do now, Mark? Please give me guidance like you always have. I need you to help me through this nightmare." Here's to you my one and only love." She lifted her glass toward the sky then drained the contents. It was time for a refill. Ellen reached down for the bottle. Alcohol was numbing this horrible pain and Ellen was going to let it.

  It was the blinding summer sun that woke her. Ellen put a hand and over her eyes and turned almost falling off the chair. She sat up and looked around wondering how she got out on the patio. The beige suit Ellen had worn to the meeting was crumpled and twisted around her. A liquor bottle lay empty beside a crystal tumbler.

  Oh my God, surely she didn't drink herself into a stupor and spend the night out here. Ellen considered herself a very light social drinker. She had never done anything like this in her life. Her parents were constantly drunk. Did she inherit the gene?

  Her head pounded in excruciating agony and her mouth felt like a ball of slimy cotton. She tried to sit up and the world spun out of control. With a groan Ellen fell back down on the lounge chair clutching her churning stomach. The last thing she remembered was toasting Mark and pouring herself another drink. She was just going to have one more nightcap before going to bed. That was some nightcap. Ellen could hear Juanita in the kitchen. The aroma of coffee and frying bacon was making her really queasy. She wanted to take a shower but she didn't trust her legs to get her up the stairs.

  Oh good grief, Ellen was disgusted with herself. Get up you weakling and quit being such a pussy. With effort she slowly sat up ignoring the dizziness and nausea. Standing on wobbly legs, she made her way to the staircase knowing Juanita watched her closely.

  “Good Morning, Juanita.” She managed a weak smile but even that caused an excruciating headache. “Thanks for fixing breakfast but I’m not very hungry. I’m going to take a shower. Maybe I can eat later.”

  Juanita looked worried. “Yes Senora. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

  The phone was ringing just as Ellen reached the bedroom. She was tempted to let Juanita take it, but changed her mind and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  "Hi there. This is your friendly sheriff here. Just wanted to see how you’re doing this morning. How did the meeting go?"

&nb
sp; "Oh... Gene." Her brow wrinkled. Why was he still calling? "Well I... I sort of had a date with Jack last night, you know, Daniels. And....well anyway, I think I slept good.” Why did she tell him that? Oh hell, let him think what he wants. Who cares what anybody thinks. She's alone now. She can do what she damn well pleases and if he doesn't like it, screw him.

  “Say no more, my dear. I have the perfect solution for a major hangover. I'll be right over."

  “Gene, wait. You don't need to come. I don’t know why I told you that.” Ellen massaged her aching head. “Just forget it, okay? I’m fine. Really I am." What a lie that was. She didn’t feel fine. Her brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She wasn’t even sure what day it was. Her touch with reality was fleeting and it was probably just as well. All she wanted to do was crawl into the shower and then into bed for the rest of her life. Hearing this man's voice over the phone was making her feel worse. He didn't deserve her surly bad mood but she couldn't help herself.

  "Now look, Princess. I don't want to hear any argument from you. I have a recipe that will make you feel like a brand new person. This one was passed down from my great grand pappy who just happened to be king of the moon shiners back in his day."

  “No, Gene. Not now.” She held out her hand as if that would stop him. “I don’t feel like it... Gene?... Hello? Damn.” Ellen hung the phone up in exasperation. To hell with it, let him wait. She was taking a shower.

  An hour later, snuggled from head to toe in a white fluffy robe, Ellen felt almost alive again. With cautious steps she made her way down the winding staircase. A deep male voice could be heard talking to Juanita in the kitchen. Ellen looked down at her attire. Crap. She turned around to get on some decent clothes.

  On trembling legs, Ellen made her way to the kitchen trying to fight the wisps of dizziness that kept assaulting her senses. She could see Gene sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning, Gene.”

  “Ah, is the princess feeling any better?”

  “The princess has turned into a royal bitch and would you mind keeping your voice down. She clapped her hands to her ears.

  Gene chuckled. “Well I’m going to make you feel like a princess again.”

  He went to the blender mixing up a concoction that would probably choke a mule. He poured her an icy drink with the strangest color she had ever seen.

  “Drink some of this and you’ll be doing cartwheels down the hall.”

  Ellen stared dubiously at the glass he had placed in front of her. What’s in this?”

  “Oh a little of this and a little of that. Family secret, can’t divulge. Come on. I know it looks unappetizing but just give it a try.”

  “Have you tried it?”

  “Of course I have.” He pounded his chest. “That’s why I’m fit as a fiddle today.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes. “Gimme a break.” She raised the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip. The taste surprised her. Despite the color, it had a rather pleasant flavor, tangy and a little fruity but not too sweet. Actually she was starting to feel a little better already.

  “So, Mr. Sheriff Stone, Thank you for the miracle cure. I guess the least I can do is offer you some breakfast.”

  Gene bowed gracefully. “I would be honored to share breakfast with royalty, even a bitchy one.”

  “Don’t overdo it, Fella.” Ellen tried to act stern but a she felt a smile playing at her lips.

  She turned to her housekeeper. “Juanita, I think one of your specialty breakfast burritos would taste really good this morning.”

  “Yes Ma'am.”

  As they ate breakfast, Gene continued with his hilarious tales of life as a Tennessee hillbilly. It seemed he had plenty of homespun stories and Ellen found them truly amusing. When it came to distracting her from grieving, Gene was an expert. Only a few minutes with this man and he had her forgetting about all her sadness and tragedy. This was really weird. Ellen shouldn't feel this happy now. It wasn't right. It was too soon. The guilt ate at her but she pushed it away. There was plenty of time for grieving later, like a lifetime.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The memorial service was harder than she thought it would be. Ellen had selected a mahogany casket. A large framed photo graced the top of its closed lid. The picture was of a smiling Mark dressed in safari gear sitting in an open jeep.

  His eulogy was read by Mark's best friend Roger who had flown in from California.

  "Mark Anderson and I became friends in the fifth grade. He shot a spit ball through his homemade blow gun and hit me in the neck. Guess who got blamed for it? It wasn't him." Everybody was smiling, crying and laughing. This was the way Mark would have wanted it. "Then there was college and I think you folks know the rest of the story. Mark and I had a friendship so rare that we remained so through life, even on opposite sides of the country. He was the brother I never had." Roger wiped at a tear. "I sure miss you, Bro."

  Ellen found herself at the head of his casket facing the people. "Some of you know how Mark and I met. Some of you may have thought he was insane to hire me, a Mississippi back woods girl with virtually no pedigree. I worked for this bank president who decided he was going to have himself a mistress, namely me. When I turned him down, he fired me on the spot. Unfortunately for this president, Mark, who was going to invest big bucks with the bank, overheard the exchange. So, I guess you could say I was rescued by the most amazing Prince Charming any girl could have. Mark and I had five beautiful years together and we cherished every moment of those years. I feel blessed to have found such a perfect love." Ellen tried to blink the tears back but they fell anyway. She looked at the casket. "I'll always love you." Ellen kissed her fingers and placed them on his casket.

  Ellen was getting weekly updates from the executives. Anderson Enterprises was thriving even without its creator. Her presence was not needed, so she found herself with all this idle time on her hands. Her organization skills had gone out the window. Ellen could not think past her grief.

  The days came and went. She was living in this weird fog. Many days Ellen stayed in bed until well afternoon. Even then she had to force herself to get up and function as a human being. Sleep was her friend now. The time passed quicker and being in the unconscious state totally stopped the thought processes. It was like being anesthetized against life's painful realities. The sheriff still called but was repeatedly told by Juanita she was napping.

  Finally Ellen began taking Gene's calls. That night when he stuck his neck out to help her go to the crash site, Ellen felt she could trust Gene Stone. He always called her princess in his own humorous way. Gene had a way of making her smile even when she didn't feel like it. Whether it was right or not, this man's attention did wonders for her somber, black moods.

  Mornings became a ritual. The sheriff usually showed up just in time for breakfast. However he never came empty handed. Each time his contribution to the meal was something different. Warm apple turnovers fresh from the bakery were Ellen's favorite.

  After awhile, Ellen stopped trying to analyze the whys and wherefores. It was what it was. There was nothing wrong with a widow enjoying an available man's platonic company. Even if they did nothing but play a few hands of gin rummy, Gene's presence lifted her spirits. Just having another person to talk to was like a soothing balm for the soul. He was a good listener, never stayed long and slowly Ellen was beginning to open up to him. She felt he was the only friend she had in the world who gave a damn. He made her laugh and slowly she was beginning to heal.

  Gene Stone seemed to be her lifeline out of this swirling pit of despair. The fact that he was a man bothered her although his visits were innocent and he did nothing to make her uncomfortable. Her niggling conscience was condemning of male company, but Ellen always managed to shelve the guilt until later. In many ways, Gene was like the brother she never had.

  On this particular morning, Ellen glanced at the calendar in amazement. She was already four months into widowhood. Four months w
ithout Mark and she was actually surviving. It was October and the Smoky Mountain area was experiencing a long Indian summer. The days continued to be balmy even though frosty nights had colored the mountains red and gold.

  Gene seemed somber this morning. Normally he was vivacious and funny trying to cheer her up but not today.

  "Something bothering you, Gene? You seem a little pensive."

  "No, nothing like that. I was just thinking."

  Ellen waited for him to continue.

  Gene gazed at her with an unsure expression. “I’d like to invite you somewhere.”

  Ellen wrinkled her brow and stared at him. Then she grinned in a teasing manner. "Are you asking this poor widow out on a date? Golly, I'm flattered."

  He chuckled. "Well, not exactly, although that might not be a bad idea, but I had something in mind a lot more exciting than a date."

  Ellen didn't really believe he was inviting her anywhere but it was fun to play along. She had not left the house since her meeting with the corporate executives and Mark's memorial service. Juanita did all the grocery shopping and Ellen had no desire to go anywhere. She knew at one point she would have to venture out into the world again but she wasn't ready yet.

  "There’s a fishing tournament over at Chelsea Lake tomorrow to benefit the food bank. It’s for the kids ages six to twelve. I don’t know whether you like that sort of thing, but we could use some adult supervision if you’d be interested in coming along.” He shrugged. “I just thought you might want to get out in the fresh air for a little while. It’s no big deal if you don’t feel up to going.”

  Ellen remembered digging up worms as a kid and sneaking away to the small pond in her neighborhood. It was one of the few pleasures she enjoyed as a ten year old. Sometimes her mom even fried the fish she caught.