LETHAL OBSESSION

by Carey Regenold

  Ellen felt a tightening in her chest. She closed the note crushing it with her fingers. Touching a tender petal, her mind tumbled with conflict. Her happiness was all he wanted. How she wished he could really give it to her. How she wished he could bring Mark back. But Gene couldn’t do that. Nobody could.

  Dr. Carrington said she was a strong person. Well Ellen didn't feel very strong when it came to existing in solitude. She needed the company of other people, which made it hard when her circle of friends consisted of one married man.

  Did he mean what he said about bowing out of her life? Would he still love her if his wife was invited along? Ellen liked Martha Stone. If only she could be her friend rather than the husband. The situation would be far less complicated.

  At least she could thank him for the flowers. It was a nice gesture. Punching in the number, Ellen held the phone on her shoulder and unfolded the card. Then she hung up abruptly. What was she doing? Gene needed little encouragement. He would take her call as an invitation, not what she wanted.

  Gene gathered his jacket from the closet. He closed his eyes as if the whining voice drifting over to him was assaulting him in some way. God, he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here, away from his wife.

  “I don’t understand why you have to be gone all the time, Gene. This is the third night this week.” Martha wiped her hands on her apron. “You’re the sheriff, let somebody else go. I fixed a nice dinner for us tonight. I thought maybe we could watch TV or talk. We never talk anymore. I’m getting tired of being alone so much. And everyone is noticing that you haven’t been to church lately.” Gene took a deep breath and tried to reign in his impatience. “It’s part of the job, Martha. Comes with the territory. I thought you understood that when I got elected. I thought you were proud of the fact that I pretty near run this town single-handed."

  Gene gave Martha a quick kiss on her closed lips and pulled her to his chest, but his mind was on Ellen. There had been many women in his life but Ellen was the first one who made him wish he wasn’t married.

  Driving down the dark highway Gene was in deep thought. Always in the past, Martha had been his safety net. His marriage did wonders as a defense against possessive mistresses. But Ellen was different. Her aloofness made him crave her in a way that was driving him nuts. Yes, it did help that she was filthy rich but that wasn't the main attraction or so he told himself.

  Gene was disappointed he didn't hear from her after the roses. He thought for sure she would call but it didn't happen. Gene wanted her so bad he could taste it. His mind was filled with her. He could think of nothing else. The paralyzing fear that she might turn to another man kept him awake nights. He had to possess her and he had to do it soon but how?

  Perhaps he would just give her a few days to enjoy the roses. If he didn't call, Ellen might believe what he said in the note. Then she would let her guard down. Gene wasn't born yesterday when it came to women. He knew them like the back of his hand. They were all very predictable and Ellen was no different.

  Meanwhile, Gene began to anticipate the coming evening. Carol Jennings was always hot to trot. Since Ellen He hadn't been around much so needless to say, Carol was thrilled to hear from him. Divorced, lonely and desperate, she knew how to show a man a good time. Gene drove on anticipating a pleasurable evening.

  Carol greeted him at the door wearing nothing but a smile. She led Gene to the bed as he quickly came out of his clothes. Carol started at his throat with her greedy, mouth and tongue. As she worked her way down his body, Gene lay on her bed supine and tried to catch his breath. Carol knew exactly what he liked as hot flicks from her tongue began to work him into a frenzy. Gene closed his eyes, emptying his mind to all but the mounting pleasure.

  Thirty minutes later he sat on the side of Carol's bed struggling to rein in his panic. No matter what she did to him, his manhood remained soft and flaccid. This was a first and it was damn scary. What if he was damaged for life and could never get it up again? That thought had Gene fighting the urge to run out her door screaming.

  Carol knelt behind Gene kissing his neck. "It's okay, Sweetie. I've heard that happens to a lot of guys."

  "Not to me it doesn't."

  "Maybe you just have a lot on your mind."

  That was probably more true than he would like to admit. This obsession with Ellen was making him impotent and he was furious that she could have that kind of power over him.

  Gene started gathering up his clothes. He hated himself and couldn't stand looking at Carol. Failure was not in his vocabulary. All he wanted to do was flee.

  "Oh Honey, don't leave."

  "I'm sorry, Baby. This isn't your fault. You've been great."

  "I hardly ever see you anymore."

  Now she was beginning to sound like his wife. It was definitely time to go.

  "I'll give you a call, Baby. I just need to get some rest. I haven't been sleeping very good. Burning the candle at both ends you might say."

  Gene got in his car and drove like the bats of hell were pursuing him. He felt cursed.

  Martha wore a satisfied smile as she snuggled against her husband. Gene looked at the ceiling and breathed a sigh of relief. His manhood was not ruined for life. Thank you, Jesus and all the assorted saints. Not being a religious man, Gene knew when it was time to pray.

  He would not tempt fate any time soon by straying, unless it was with Ellen. He didn't like going to church, but he was superstitious enough to believe that some higher power or fate could dole out reward or punishment. Gene pretended to be religious to please Martha but perhaps he should pay more attention. Perhaps the powers that be were telling him something. A soft penis was a damn frightening wakeup call.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ellen tugged at her nightgown. She had tossed and turned so much she felt exhausted. Looking at the bedside clock, Ellen groaned. Six AM. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for her silk robe. Feeling restless, Ellen wandered down stairs, hearing her footsteps echo on the polished hardwood floor. Standing at the window facing the patio, she stared out at the scenery. The sunrise was so magnificent promising another Indian summer day. Today, Ellen vowed would be a day of strictly positive, uplifting thoughts.

  Ellen was seeing Dr. Carrington once a week. The fact was she looked forward to those sessions and wished she had one today. He had a knack for making her feel better about herself. Dr. Carrington assured Ellen these black moods would slowly fade. He kept encouraging her to be true to herself and not allow loneliness to sabotage her values. Dr. Carrington was a wonderful man but today the pain seemed more acute than usual. Ellen shouldn’t be morbid on a glorious morning but she couldn’t help it. The emptiness in her soul would not go away.

  The chalet was so quiet, Ellen could feel Mark’s presence everywhere. His voice echoed in the stillness. His clothes hung in the closet untouched like he was coming home any day now. The urge to touch his shirts and smell them again was overwhelming. Ellen fought that urge. Somehow she had to find a way to get over this keening, to put it behind her and get on with her life.

  Tears welled up and trickled down each cheek. Ellen stood silently at the window, allowing the grief to wash over her. She wanted to wallow in it, get lost in it. Her feet moved to the stairs.

  Soon Ellen was in the bedroom facing the mirrored closet doors. With trembling fingers, she opened them and gazed at the array of suits and shirts. Reaching out, she gathered them to her chest, burying her face in the crisp material. His special male scent assailed her senses and her sobs came with wracking gasps.

  How could he be gone from her? How was she ever going to be able to get through this horrendous nightmare? Never in her life had Ellen felt so alone. There was no family to lean on, no close friends to turn to. There was no one that really gave a damn, no one except Gene and maybe Dr. Carrington. Maybe Ellen needed to make an appointment today. Her emotions were going helter skelter again.

  A frigid, lonely month inched by. Christmas was right a
round the corner. Ellen got no more visits from Gene but she seemed to run into him everywhere. He came up behind her at the grocery store and nearly scared her to death. She refused his lunch invitation. Ellen knew if she gave in to lunch it would be dinner next. That lethal trap she had every intention to avoid.

  The thought flitted through her brain that Gene might be stalking her. Surely he wouldn't do a thing like that. She had made her feelings crystal clear the last time they spoke. His son was probably home. Most families were busy preparing for the holidays.

  Envy of husbands and wives celebrating Christmas together made Ellen feel sorry for herself. Even Dr. Carrington had his family. She was alone and that's just the way it was. She might as well make up her mind to get used to it and live with it. The cavernous chalet’ echoed her desolation whenever her solitary footsteps crossed the polished wood floor. Mark had been gone for almost a half year now, yet her longing for him was still painfully acute. Her mind refused to focus on anything. Ellen couldn’t even come up with a logical plan for her future. A future for her no longer existed. She felt adrift in a relentless sea of unreality where there seemed no beginning or end.

  Now Christmas was coming and all she wanted to do was get it over with. Christmas was for families. Ellen rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom. She stared at the mirror. A strange frightening woman stared back at her. Oh God. Ellen put trembling hands to her face. She was dying, slowly and painfully, and she didn’t even care. Like a sleepwalker she went to the bed and sat down. It was so tempting to crawl under those warm covers and block out all reality.

  No, she was not going to give up. It was almost as if she could hear Mark’s voice encouraging her, telling her to be strong, to be strong for him. She had to try and pull herself together somehow.

  Ellen walked to the closet and stared at her clothes. Choosing a pair of sweats, she got dressed and went downstairs. Juanita handed her a cup of coffee and she sipped at the rich warm liquid. It helped.

  “Good morning, Senora Anderson. I hope you’re feeling better. I made some apple turnovers for you this morning.”

  “Thank you, Juanita. I’d love some.” She wasn’t hungry but she had to try. Saying a secret prayer, she promised Mark that she would try.

  After breakfast, Ellen went into the attic to sort out the Christmas decorations. Both women spent the remainder of the morning testing lights and checking ornaments for breakage. Ellen sat on the floor and opened a large box. She reached in and pulled out a glistening, white church scene. The steeple church sparkled with snow. It’s interior glowed with an amber light. Miniature children played on sleds among snow covered spruces in front. Ellen smiled remembering when she and Mark picked it out together. They had driven into Gatlinburg for the day. She plugged it in and the little church came alive inside with a warm glow. It was a music box and played Silent Night. She remembered snuggling in Mark’s arms and watching the glow. Suddenly she could no longer bear to look at it. her fingers reached for the plug and the little church went dark.

  The next box was full of gaudy ornaments that Mark couldn’t stand. She used to hang them on the tree right in the front just to watch him shudder. Now there was no point in hanging them up anymore. These beautiful memories of Christmases past should have been a comfort for her but it seemed they had the opposite effect. Seeing these signs of the season made her miss Mark so much that the emotional pain was excruciating. It was easier not to think about it. Better to just let the season go by as quickly as possible without the reminders that she would be spending Christmas without Mark. Tears stung her eyes. Ellen couldn’t do this. There was not going to be a tree or decorations this season.

  “I’m sorry, Mark,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”

  Her fingers worked quickly putting everything back in the boxes.

  Juanita looked puzzled. “Senora. Anderson? Why you put Christmas back?”

  “I can’t do it Juanita.” Ellen’s voice caught on a sob. “I thought I could. I tried, but I can’t.” She looked helplessly at her housekeeper as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “It’s okay, Senora.” Juanita put a sympathetic arm around her. “I understand. Senor Anderson...” she looked up to the heavens. “He will understand too.” She reached for Ellen’s hand and patted it. “I help you put back.”

  At midnight Ellen sat up in bed and opened her eyes, trying to recall the startling details of the dream. Her breathing was coming in gasping sobs. The dream was so real her whole body was trembling with the impact of it.

  A man was walking toward her and he was smiling with love. When he got closer, Ellen realized it was Mark. She ran to him. She reached out for him but like a rainbow, his image kept eluding her. She screamed. “Mark, please. Let me come to you. Let me touch you. I belong with you.” Then she shuddered as his words chilled her.

  “No my sweet Ellen, you don’t, not anymore. What we had was beautiful. Believe me when I say I will always love you and be here to watch over you. But you must find the strength to go on without me. Don’t shut yourself off my darling. You were meant to be loved. Find a man who can give you a lifetime. Find him and be happy.”

  In the dream, Mark was receding in the distance. Ellen began running. She stumbled and fell but struggled to her feet. “Mark, please! Come back, I need you. I can’t go on without you. I can’t...I can’t...Mark! Mark,” she screamed. It was her own voice that woke her. Ellen tried to still her breathing. She wiped the moisture from her eyes. The dream was a message. Mark came to tell her something important.

  Ellen got up and went downstairs for a glass of milk. She thought about the dream and what it meant. Her deceased husband was telling her loud and clear it was time to move on with her life. This time Ellen snuggled into the covers and slept soundly with no dreams for the rest of the night.

  Sipping her morning coffee, Ellen reached over to pick up the paper. There it was in bold print. SINGLES MIXER TONIGHT AT THE CEDAR GROVE MOOSE LODGE. A live band and refreshments will be served. Did she actually possess the courage to walk into a gathering like that? Well, Ellen thought, this will be a first, because she was going to do it.

  The dream was still there very real inside her head. Ellen promised Mark in her heart she would be strong for him. She just needed an attitude change and a lot of intestinal fortitude.

  Amazingly enough, just making an affirmative decision had her feeling better. It was still morning, plenty of time to go out shopping for a new outfit.

  Ellen sat in her locked car in the darkened parking lot of the local Moose Club. People were walking into the clubhouse in groups, young men and women laughing and chatting. Nobody was going in alone. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Her hand reached for the keys to start the car. Ellen's mind was screaming coward. Many hours had been spent picking out clothes and getting ready for this evening. And now she was going to throw it all away because she was too shy to walk into a place where singles gathered?

  Ellen took a deep breath, put the keys in her purse and zipped it tight. Okay, now she needed to step out of the car, grow a backbone and just get in there. She would not chicken out, not this time.

  Ellen walked in the door and looked around. It was a spacious mountain chalet that had been converted into a lodge. Three women sat at a table in the foyer making name tags. Ellen felt as if she were stepping into her first high school dance.

  “Hello, and your name is?”

  “Ellen Anderson.”

  “Ellen? Are you a member of our Singles Club or a guest?”

  “A guest.”

  The woman smiled warmly. “My name is Kate. Welcome, Ellen. Please make yourself at home.”

  Ellen thanked Kate and pulled the sticky backing off her name tag. Her suede, beige pumps clicked across the gleaming hardwood floor.

  A crackling fire roared in the enormous fireplace, its light reflecting off the polished floor. A large fir Christmas tree twinkled in the corner and colorful holiday decorations hung from the rafters.
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  The party was an obvious success as the room was crowded. Groups of people stood talking and some were dancing to the music played by a local, country band.

  Ellen did not expect to see anybody she knew, but she thought maybe some people would be by themselves rather than hanging out in groups. She walked around feeling ill at ease and tried to talk herself out of leaving. Maybe she could pick out a group and sort of stand on the periphery like she knew the people. Ellen remembered she had no trouble introducing herself to the ladies at the fair. Was this venue so different?

  Ellen was wearing a cashmere tangerine sweater with a V-neck displaying a tantalizing curve of breast. Her shoulder length honey hair framed her face in soft, silky waves. Her printed, wool skirt picked up the colors in the sweater and was calf length with buttons down the front. Ellen had left several of the bottom buttons undone to reveal a shapely leg.

  A few of the men turned to stare and she felt their hot gazes focused on her nylon-clad legs. The thought crossed her mind to head for the ladies room and re-button the skirt. Perhaps her choice of clothing was not a good idea for this gathering. Perhaps being here was not a good idea. Ellen's level of discomfort accelerated at an alarming rate. Okay, sniveling coward, she thought. Dr. Carrington believes you to be strong. Yeah, right, what does he know? You’re going to smile, be sociable and tough this evening out if it kills you. Ellen Anderson, you are not going to run away. Remember the dream, Mark is watching.