The drive home is a quiet one. I plan on calling Jessica when I get there and make plans to meet up. She will be married in a few months and I need to tell her I don’t intend on being in her wedding. I don’t want to ruin her day. I will be there of course; I mean she is my very best friend. I just don’t have the patience to fake a smile for an entire day. I don’t know if she’ll understand, but I hope she does. I need her to be here when and if I ever get back to being a normal social person. When Sam is dead and gone. I want to spend time with my old friends again. I want to be with my family, and I want to somehow have a normal life if there is such a thing.
I prepare for my phone call by first having a glass of wine and then pouring another. The phone rings and rings and just as I begin to hang up, she answers. “Hello?” she sounds pissy already.
“Hey, it’s me,” I whisper.
“Yeah, you have your own ringtone remember?” her response is short, so I had better get to the point.
“Jess, I am so sorry we haven’t spoken more and that I haven’t returned your calls. I know you are probably busy with the wedding and I want to make it up to you. Can I make you dinner at my place this weekend?” she pauses, and I realize I have my fingers crossed and I am biting my lower lip.
“Yeah, sure. How about Friday night? Colton has to work late so we weren’t planning anything anyway.” Oh, thank goodness.
“Great! And bring all your wedding stuff okay? I want to know everything that you’ve picked out so far.” My mom is her wedding planner but every time she has brought it up, I cut her off. I think it’s only right if Jess shares this with me herself.
“Alright, I will. I miss you,” her voice is much softer now.
“I know, I miss you too.” We both hang up without another word.
We have always had this relationship that we never need to say we’re sorry. We just go along with our day to day knowing that we will always be a part of each other’s lives no matter what. We are sisters. I don’t want to disappoint her. I can put on a happy face for one night to make her feel important. It is one of the happiest times in her life and I need to be supportive. Isn’t it strange that the happiest time in her life is the most miserable of mine?
For the rest of the week, I go about my normal day to day stuff. When I can peel myself from my bed, I only go to the shooting range. The second I am home I drink enough to go to sleep and the whole thing starts again. Sometimes I sit outside and stare at the sky. When the moon and stars are bright, I find myself praying and talking to Evan.
It is rare that I sleep a whole night without a nightmare. I notice the more I have to drink, the less they creep in. They are always the same. I am losing the baby over and over again. I am holding his limp body in my hands and trying to save him. That is the worst one. If it’s not that, it is Sam on top of me tormenting me and I am paralyzed under the weight of his body. I am powerless in my sleep but when I am awake, I dream of the ultimate power; saving the world from the devil. I have begun to form this sick obsession with killing him. A sick but satisfying obsession.
I look around my dirty house and decide to make a half hazard attempt to clean before Jessica gets here. I know she won’t care what the place looks like, but it is truly disgusting. The dishes are piled in the sink and there are clothes trailed all through the house. I should light a candle too. Something is beginning to stink in here.
I do a quick sweep over the place not getting into any deep cleaning, but at least I run the vacuum and get the dishes done. Apparently, it has taken me longer than I thought it would because when I look at the clock, I realize I have no time to shower. Ah, fuck it! I showered yesterday. I run to my room to at least change my clothes and then do inventory of the kitchen to see what we have to drink and eat. Well, wine to drink of course and I have no food because I haven’t been to the grocery store. Shit! Why didn’t I go to the store while I was out? I promised her dinner! I snatch up my cell and dial the number of my favorite local Chinese restaurant. Delivery in twenty minutes. Perfect. She doesn’t need to know that was a last-minute choice. It’s her favorite Chinese place too.
Before I can place my phone back on its charging dock, there is a soft tap at the door. When I answer Jess has a sullen look on her face. I don’t know if she is angry with me, sad, or indifferent. I take the initiative and pull her into an embrace. I hear her sniffling. “You know I can’t stay mad at you.”
I back away and give her the best smile I can manage. Showtime! I am going to have to act my ass off. “So, let me see the wedding stuff. I ordered Chinese instead of cooking I hope that’s okay?”
“Yeah, that sounds great. I have been craving Chinese.” She moves her hand across her belly and makes a growling sound.
We both settle into our comfort zone immediately. Well, she does, and I pretend to. She flips through a binder, that is ridiculously too large, full of wedding ideas. Jesus, good luck to my mother with this wedding. Pages and magazine clippings are spilling out everywhere. Lord help her, she is the most disorganized person on the planet. I have no idea what she is going on about. Something about her dress and the bustle, whatever that is and there is a problem with the neckline? What the hell is there some sort of wedding language I need to decode now too? I just keep nodding along and agree with whatever she says. This seems to be the easiest route to take. It’s not that I am not interested. It is just not at the top of my list right now.
Soon the food is here, and we are sipping on our wine and digging our chopsticks into the cardboard containers. There is a brief silence and I decide that now is the time to spring on her that I don’t want to be in the wedding. “Jess,” I am hesitant. I know she is going to be upset. “I know that this is such a special day for you, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but I just… how do I put this? I am afraid if I am in the wedding and I am having a bad day it will ruin yours. I want to be at your wedding, but as a guest only. Is that okay with you?” I hold my breath waiting for some sort of reaction. Anything at all but I can’t gauge her at the moment.
“I guess, I mean that makes me really sad,” her bottom lip begins to quiver. “I always imagined you would be a part of my wedding. You’re my best friend. I want you to be beside me.” Her head is down, and she has yet to make eye contact with me.
“I know and I am so sorry. I just have been a complete and total question mark. I don’t think I can bare a fake smile all day. I mean, not that I won’t be happy for you,” I think I stuck my foot in my mouth.
“No, I get it. It will just take me a little while to get used to it.” I can almost feel the distance between us widen. Oh, I don’t want to lose my best friend. She is quick to change the subject and we go on with awkward small talk for a bit more.
At only 8 o’clock she makes up some sort of excuse for needing to leave and I let her. I am beginning to tire of the phony, happy Nettie. We give each other a brief and now uncomfortable hug before she leaves. I pause a moment after closing the door and lean my head back. I exhale loudly when I hear her car door close. Alone at last. I pour my drink and decide to have a bath.
While I soak, I fantasize about how satisfying it will be to have Sam out of my life. For good. I play the scenario over and over in my head and it is soothing. I am comforted by my imagination. I am startled when my phone rings, and I attempt to reach out to grab it off of the counter. It’s too far. Oh, well. Whoever it is I can call them back. The water is beginning to cool around me. I step out of the bath and wrap my terrycloth robe around me. I am reminded of the day I went into labor. I wish we could rewind to that day and I could hold my little man again. I miss him so much. I am hugging myself now in comfort. I am interrupted by my phone again. How obnoxious. If I am not answering maybe, it’s for a reason. “What!” I snap.
“Nettie, darling,” It’s my mother. “It’s Daddy”. My world stops.
Chapter 23
Close Call
“Mom what? What about Dad?” I am in a complete and total panic.
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br /> “They think he had a heart attack.” Ok, what does that mean is he okay is he alive? Before the words can come out, she answers me. “He is at the hospital. I don’t know anything yet. The guys from the dealership called me and said all they know is that he collapsed, and they called an ambulance. I am on my way now. Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No, you are already on your way I’ll meet you there,” I hang up before hearing her response. I rush to get dressed and grab my purse on the way out the door. He has to be okay, he just has to be. God cannot do this to me too. Fuck! I am going to lose my mind here. I don’t even remember the drive to the hospital, but here I am. I rush into the front desk and merely say my father’s name.
“Nettie!” My mom comes in right behind me. How in the hell did I manage to beat her here? A nurse interrupts before I can respond to my mother.
“He is on the fifth floor. Cardiac monitoring unit. Room 512” This is all the information we receive.
Both of us scramble to the elevators and I press the button that reads 5. My mom grabs my hand tightly as the elevator rises. Thank goodness we are alone. I can hear both of our panicked breathing as the elevator settles on our destination. The doors open and we rush out. There is a large nurse’s station, and we get a few quizzical looks but don’t bother explaining ourselves.
“There!” I shout. Room 512. The door is open. When we rush in, we both let out a much-needed sigh of relief as Daddy is sitting up awake in his hospital bed.
“Jesus Daddy! What the hell happened?” My mother is already kneeling at his side with her face buried in his chest.
“Shhhh Mary I am fine really.” He looks at me, giving that half-smile of his. He has a tube connected to his nose and wires coming out from underneath his hospital gown. There are monitors on either side of him. I would imagine these are keeping track of his heart. So, he did have a heart attack.
“Dad, are you alright? Was it a heart attack?” I am still freaking out. He doesn’t look like himself.
“No, they don’t think it was a heart attack. They are monitoring me for the night though just to be safe. I’m sorry if I worried my girls.” He sounds out of breath by the end of his sentence.
“So, I don’t understand: if you didn’t have a heart attack, what did happen?” I am so confused.
“Well I was in the showroom at the dealership, talking to a few customers and I all of a sudden felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I had a horrible pain in my chest. Apparently, I passed out because next thing I know I woke up here.” Oh, thank God he woke up. “The doctor I spoke to a few minutes ago thinks I may have just had some sort of anxiety attack. I told him about all the stress I have been under.” All because of my problems my strong father has been brought to his knees. My eyes begin to well up and I try and take a sobering breath.
“I am just glad you are okay old man. I don’t think we could have gotten along without you. But, I guess this means you need to stop worrying so much about other people and focus on yourself,” I try being the parent.
“Ditto!” I am put back in my place with that one word. I nod in agreement and take a seat next to him. “You go home honey. I am fine.” My mother is still weeping into his chest. He rolls his eyes at me like she is being dramatic.
“I will Dad, just let me sit and visit for a minute okay? You scared the shit out of us! We didn’t know what we would find when we got here. I mean I don’t know about Mom, but I was thinking the worst.” I feel that familiar lump in my throat. I can’t even imagine how devastating it would have been to lose my father. Although I wouldn’t have been all that surprised. I feel like I have been completely cursed for the last year and a half. Please cut me some slack, God. I offer to the heavens.
The three of us sit in silence for a while and I see my dad’s eyes flutter a few times. I stand and lean over giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. “I am going to go, so you can get some rest. I love you.” I look now, addressing my mother. “Mom, do you want me to just take you home and I can bring you back tomorrow?” She shakes her head adamantly. I figured this much.
“Alright. Call me if you need anything. I’ll come back in the morning if you’re not home by then. Love you both.”
“Love you too!” they say in unison. They truly are the perfect pair. As I leave the room, I hear my mom kissing him and thanking God. It’s sweet that they are still in love after all this time. I hope to find that one day. Who am I kidding? I’m not that lucky.
The next morning my mother calls to let me know everything looked fine with my dad’s tests and that they are sure it was a panic attack. They are going to be home in a few hours, so she convinces me there is no reason to come all the way to the hospital. I agree to meet them at their place when he is discharged. Apparently, they have prescribed something for my dad to take in case he feels anxious again. Good. I don’t think any of us could handle a scare like that again.
As soon as I hang up the phone with my mother, Jessica calls. It is amazing how fast news travels. She, of course, heard a completely different story than what really happened, and I set her straight. This town is playing one huge game of telephone. People shouldn’t talk if they don’t know the facts. I briefly wonder what the story was when Evan died. I am sure it wasn’t the truth. Oh, my Evan. I need to visit him again.
“Nettie? For Christ’s sake do you ever actually listen to me?” she sounds annoyed.
“I’m sorry. I am just so sick of people in this town gossiping and spreading these bullshit stories when they have no idea what they are talking about!” Now I sound annoyed.
“Well, just tell your dad I was thinking of him and I am glad he is alright.”
“I will. I’ll call you tonight then.” We hang up and I decide since I have some time I will go to the cemetery for an hour or so.
I have a nice little visit. I sit and explain what has happened with Dad and about the shooting range and my meetings. It is so bizarre that I am talking about this stuff. I hope no one heard my conversation with the tombstone. I have so lost my mind. Before I even leave, my mother calls and they are almost home. I go straight from the cemetery to their house. My father looks much better today than he did last night. He said he is feeling completely fine and doesn’t understand why we are fussing over him so much.
“Dad, we thought you had a heart attack. We are going to fuss. After all that has happened to us, losing you would have absolutely broken us. We were just terrified.” I don’t even notice that I am crying at this point. He walks over to me and gently rests his arm over my shoulder.
“Oh, my little girl. I didn’t mean to downplay anything. I just don’t want you and Mom to worry about me, okay. I am fine. Everything is fine. Look at me,” he holds his arms out to his sides and puffs up his chest. “I am like Superman. Perfectly healthy. Don’t worry, I’ll be around for a long time. Probably too long,” he giggles and so do I. Superman my ass! Maybe Robin, if he’s lucky. I roll my eyes at him and wipe away the last of my tears. “Come on let’s make something to eat. I am starving.” His arm is back around me and he walks me to the kitchen.
After another great meal at my parents, I excuse myself to head home. The last few days have been exhausting and frankly, I am ready for quiet. When I arrive home, I get settled into some comfortable threads and cozy up in my favorite chair. I turn on the television and flip through the channels. There is nothing worth watching so I settle on a rerun of one of my favorite old shows. I glance at my coffee table and notice that the mail is sitting there. I don’t even remember bringing that in. Maybe Jess did when she was here last night. I flip through each piece separating the junk mail from the actual bills when I come to familiar handwriting. It’s from Sam. Just as I am about to rip it into pieces, I stop myself. I am not as afraid of him as I used to be. I wonder what he has to say. I fight with my subconscious for what seems like forever and I finally decide to open it. As I slip my pinkie into the corner and begin to open it, I feel my heartbeat quicken and my palms begin
to sweat. Alright, so he still makes me a little scared. I freeze when I read his words. I can hear him hiss each one to me. Something so simple, yet so scary.
My Darling Nettie, Tick, tick, tick.
Xoxo
Sam
Sick asshole! Doesn’t he get it? I want him out. I want him out, so I can make sure I never see him again. I want him six feet under. And frankly, I don’t care if we are both dead. As long as he pays for what he has done to me and my family. He has no control over me anymore. I have control. I need to repeat this to myself. This will be my mantra. “I have control!” I rip the letter into as many tiny pieces as I can and throw it into the garbage. When I do, I realize that this is the first letter I have gotten at my new place. How the hell did he know the address? Why am I even surprised? He seems to know everything.
This has been yet another long day and the letter was just icing on the cake. I cannot wait until he is dead, and my nightmare can end. Speaking of nightmares, I pour myself a glass of red in hopes of keeping them at bay. Before falling asleep I say a prayer, “Dear Lord, if you are up there, I just want to thank you for taking care of my father. He is the most important man in my life, and I couldn’t handle another loss. Please protect us and keep us safe from harm.” I think you owe us that.
Chapter 24
Till death do us part
“I can’t believe today is the day!” Jess is facing the mirror in her ivory wedding gown. She looks stunning. I have never seen her so happy.
“You look incredible Jess, really. I am so happy for you,” I wrap my arms around her from behind and give her a squeeze. I’m so glad that I have decided not to be in the wedding. I have been so emotional today. I’ve taken frequent trips outside to catch my breath and readjust my happy face. I lift my camera to break the tension. Click, click. I catch the bride off guard, and I know it will make a beautiful candid shot. I am not the official photographer for the wedding, but I cannot help but make my own album for my best friend. She sticks her tongue out in annoyance and I snap yet another one. We both begin to giggle and soon comes her machine gun, out in full force.
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