by A. A. Vacco
Cara sat down, keeping her eyes lowered. Alex sat next to her, facing her. They sat this way for several moments without saying anything. Then Alex started, “Listen, I know things have been, well, stressful the past few weeks. I’m sorry that they have. I need you to know I love you.”
“Love you, too," she murmured back.
“We’re a team, ok?” he said. “The kids need us united. Hell, pretty sure the town needs us united, if you think about it.”
Cara laughed, and looked up at Alex. “Well, who else would keep everyone here sane and on their toes?”
“Only the best PTA, boyscout-leading, uniform-repairing mom in Millerton.”
“Too cheesy," she smiled, but secretly loved the recognition.
“You think?” Alex knew she loved every bit of it.
Alex pulled her forward and kissed the top of her head. Silently, he prayed whatever tension that trickled its way into their lives would dissipate soon.
A thud broke the stillness. “What was that?” asked Cara.
Alex stood up and listened again. Quiet. But, he remembered what Elle informed him of earlier. Without a word, he sprinted toward Cassie’s room.
32
After shooting RJ a few text messages, Elle decided she needed to get out of the house. Calvin was working late, and she knew he’d find her there if she wasn’t home or with Kat. Spencer answered the door.
“Hey Dr. Elle!” To her surprise, he ran up and gave her a tight hug.
“Hi there, Spence, good to see you, Kiddo!” Elle kissed the top of his head and tousled his hair. “Your dad around?”
“For sure. Follow me.”
Spencer led her through the entryway and back toward RJ’s study. RJ sat facing double computer screens, headphones over his ears, swearing at someone for ‘camping.' Upon noticing Elle in his periphery, he let out a soft laugh, lowered the head set and said, “Well, that didn’t take long.”
“It’s a ten-minute drive, RJ.”
“I suppose it is. What can I get you to drink? Oh, and before you answer, yes, we do have ice to add to hard liquor.”
Elle smiled, “Scotch on the rocks.”
RJ got up from the computer set up and led her into the kitchen. “Cal know where you are?”
“Texting him now. He might swing by once work lets him off the hook, if that’s cool.”
“Absolutely. I’ll save some booze for him, too," RJ laughed, adding ice into two glasses. He set them on the counter and poured some Dewar’s into each.
The two sat down in RJ’s rec room. He had a couch that wrapped around a portion of the perimeter, all seats capable of viewing a fifty-seven inch plasma screen. Elle didn’t notice any changes from her last visit. The coffee table still held stacks of mail that were either junk or already sifted through. The lamp shades on either side of the couch still needed dusting, and the only reason Elle noticed this was because they were sapphire. The bases of the matching lamps were ivory, and the contrast looked great. The upkeep, well...,
“Whatcha thinking about, Ellbea?”
“You need to dust.”
RJ chuckled and raised his glass to her. Finally settling, Elle curled up on the chaise portion of the couch, and RJ took advantage of one the couch’s recliners. The two sipped their poisons in silence. Glancing at him, Elle wondered how he stayed so damn cheery. Even in light of recent events, his daily smile and the color of his bow tie never faded.
“Elle," he interrupted her thoughts. “God, you must be drained. Why aren’t you home passed out?”
“Fun story, my body’s exhausted but my brain won’t power down.”
“Ah. Yes, I can see where that’d be an issue.” The ice in his glass clinked as he swirled the whiskey-scotch blend.
Elle’s eyes rested on a piece of artwork RJ hung over one of the large speakers on the wall facing her. It was an abstract piece, but he had had it since medical school. The two of them used to spend hours trying to find familiar figures out of the multitudes of colors and shapes. She smiled and told him she was happy he held onto it all this time.
RJ raised his eyebrows. “Like I could ever part with the Clashing Colors of Chaos. Do you even remember why I bought it in the first place?”
“Didn’t you get it when we took a trip to Michigan for the week? Needed a break from clinicals, so we went to one of those small, tourist towns, rented a beach house and hid from the world?”
RJ grinned, “Yea, that’s the trip. I was still with Noelle at the time. Pretty sure she was there too, at least for part of it.”
Elle nodded. “Yep. She was worried we’d be staying in the same room, or something.”
“Ha! Yes, that’s right," RJ set his glass in the cup holder and rubbed his hand over his chin. “Wow, yea and didn’t she...”
“Give you a bedtime? And lock your door so I couldn’t get in?”
Both hands covered his face now. “God, that was so bad," he laughed. “And you were oblivious to it, too.”
“Of course! Why the hell would I go in your room at night?”
RJ shrugged. “She never trusted anyone. It wasn’t personal.”
“Never took it that way, but anyways, the painting.”
“Ah, right. Well, we went to that local art walk, remember? Wine & Walk, I think the name was.”
Elle remembered that part, but, “Why was this one your top pick?”
RJ smiled at her. “You pointed at it and said, ‘This one would be the kid in class who’s weird now, but everyone knows will move to New York and become famous one day.”
“Well, this isn’t exactly New York.”
“No, but I don’t think you meant it literally. You were more hinting at the fact that it was ok to be different. You usually reminded me of that, in your own way. Remember?”
“Vaguely.”
RJ sighed. “I don’t want to get all mushy on you, but I felt like a total freak at that school. Surely you recall that much.” When Elle nodded, RJ continued, “You told me, ‘You’re not a freak. You’re extraordinary; an original piece of art.’ You said that being unique wasn’t a crime and that I shouldn’t accept anything less than complete acceptance. This painting, uh, always reminds me of that.”
Silence followed, except for the ice cubes jingling against their glasses. They both stared at the painting, until the doorbell rang. Both of them jumped and Elle managed to slosh some of her drink onto her chest. “Crap," she muttered.
RJ tossed her a tissue box on the end table next to him and got up to answer the door. Spencer beat him there, and RJ greeted Calvin in the entryway. They headed toward the rec room, stopping in the kitchen to get Cal a drink, then back to the couch where Elle still sat.
They sat chatting for a couple more hours. Spencer joined them for a portion of that time. He even turned on the TV and linked up his YouTube account to it, showing Elle and Calvin the latest video clips. “Just trying to keep you two hip and up to date," he explained.
When the Conways finally called it a night, RJ and Spencer walked them to the door. As Elle headed toward her car, her phone rang. She paused before getting in and answered.
“Kat? Everything ok?”
“E-Elle?”
“Yes?” Elle unlocked the car and sat behind the wheel.
“Hey. It’s me.”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Yea, I know. What’s going on? Are you alright?”
From the street where Cal parked his car, Elle could see him motioning to her thumbs up or thumbs down. She gave him the thumbs up sign and Calvin mouthed, “See you at home," waving good-bye.
Her key hit the ignition and the engine hummed. Elle tried to hear what Kat was attempting to say. Something about something in Genie’s old room, but she was talking too fast to make most of it out.
“Kat, Honey, slow down, slow down, are you--?”
“Dammit, will you just get your ass over here and help me figure this out?”
Pulling out of the driveway, Elle put the car in drive and said, �
��Be there in ten," hung up, and called Cal to give him a heads up that she may not be home any time soon.
33
When Alex reached Cassie’s room, he saw smoke curling up from under the closed door. He yelled her name as he gave the door several shoves. No response. The door felt warm against his hand. Nevertheless, he proceeded to press his face against it, hoping to hear something, anything. But the only answer came in the form of crackling. He pounded harder on the door and yelled to Cara to get Justin out of the house. She flew by him, grabbed their son from his bedroom, and bolted outside. Alex took a step back, which wasn’t far due to the narrow hallway, and jumped into the door, shoulder first. It budged a bit, but remained closed. Alex drew the pistol from his holster and aimed it at the knob. He yelled to Cassie to stand back, and fired a single shot at the stubborn lock. The wooden door swung open and a blast of heat and smoke poured into the hallway.
Alex dropped to his knees and crawled into the bedroom. The coughing began within seconds. The charred bedding and furniture closest to the door appeared empty. Where was she?
He then remembered the window and thought that if Cassie had enough sense to escape, she would’ve headed there after trying the door. As he felt his way toward the back of the room, he heard the door slam behind him. He did not turn around. Pressing his palms over anything on the ground that could indicate Cassie’s location, Alex finally felt an arm. He grabbed it and pulled. Cassie’s limp body slid toward him. Alex gathered her into his arms and hugged her close to his chest. He stood, stumbling at first, and faced the closed door. Taking a running start, he used the last of his energy to throw himself against it. This worked. The door splintered at the force of his weight, sending Alex and Cassie tumbling into the hallway. Regaining his stance, Alex scooped Cassie back up and ran toward the living room and out the front door.
Firefighters met him in full swarm. They took Cassie and placed her on a stretcher. Cara must’ve radioed for help via the squad car.
The paramedics checked her for a heartbeat and hooked her up to an oxygen mask. After several agonizing minutes, Alex heard the greatest sound in his life; his daughter gasping for air. “She’s conscious!” yelled one of the paramedics. “Couple of burns though. Hey! Wound kit, let’s go!” he shouted to the other medic in the ambulance.
Cara stood with Justin in the neighbor’s yard, a safe distance from the house. The firefighters had the hose spraying gallons of water, but seconds after they started, everyone heard a rumble, followed by a fiery blast.
The explosion threw Alex back a few feet. Cara and Justin were far enough away to avoid any injury and the ambulance shielded Cassie. Some of the firefighters flew back, too. Groaning, Alex sat up. “Everyone ok?” he called out.
Several people gave the affirmative, and started checking the perimeter for anyone not responding. The neighbors all gathered around the Kingman property, despite several firefighters’ efforts to keep them back. As water sprayed over the last of the flames from the firehose, Alex saw a half-shattered porcelain face without a body facing them amid the rubble. The eyes were closed. He prayed that whatever this all was had come to an end.
34
“Does it ever end?” yelled Kat.
She paced across the living room and back. Walt gave up several hours ago and went to bed. Elle stood in the corner of the room, arms folded, waiting for her to finish ranting. “I mean, this place, it always comes back. Why can’t it just leave us alone? For all I know, it killed her. I know it did. God, why didn’t I tell her about it sooner? She might’ve listened!”
“Maybe, maybe not," said Elle. “She is your daughter. She’d do whatever the hell she wanted regardless of what you told her.”
“This is a rhetorical rant! Audience participation not welcomed!” shrieked Kat.
Elle shrugged and headed toward the kitchen. Kat stomped after her, continuing to vent. Elle still wasn’t exactly sure what happened or how Kat somehow connected The Doll House to all of this, but she clearly had, and seemed a little upset about it.
“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now," hissed Kat. “Seeing that, that, thing! In my house...my house! Violating, that is what it is. Invasion of my space, a disruption, no, no an attack! On my home!”
Elle nodded and brought down two wine glasses from Kat’s cabinet. She went to the fridge and produced a bottle of half-consumed chardonnay and filled the glasses. Without saying a word, she handed one to Kat.
Kat took the glass from her and said, “This is that small town voodoo shit people are always so paranoid about. Well, guess what? They should be paranoid!” She drank a large gulp of the wine, paused, and then took another.
Using Kat’s silence to her advantage, Elle cautiously raised her hand, accompanied with a nonthreatening head tilt.
“Oh for god’s sake, speak!”
“Could we, just for a second, time out? Kat, you lost me. Truly, you have.”
“At which part?”
“The screaming rage part.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
Elle sighed, “What made you call me tonight?”
Kat took another sip of wine. “I went into Genie’s room.”
Taking a sip of wine herself, Elle nodded and waited. “I haven’t been up there since, well, you know...,”
“She died?”
“Yes, Captain Sensitive, thank you, since then.”
“Sorry, this isn’t my first drink," mumbled Elle, blushing.
“Anyways, first time up there. I was straightening some things out, and I found a doll that looks like it was dragged straight from outta the nineteenth century.”
“Creepy.”
“Right?” Kat set her glass on the counter and reached for the bottle to refill it. “Anyways, I thought back to everything that’s ever happened in that house. The stuff you dug up about Byron Easton, our run-in, and thought of the one rule we had.”
“Wait, Kat, before you go any further...,”
“We said we wouldn’t take anything out or do anything to expose the house. Put it at risk of being changed or destroyed.”
Elle nodded. “We did say that, but no one else concluded that was a real rule to follow. Besides, how do you know that doll came from Millerton? There are tons of antique stores, and I’m sure Genie had a lot of dolls as a kid!”
Kat downed half of her second glass. She moved to her phone, punched a few buttons, and held it to her ear. “What...what are you doing? Kat, it’s almost midnight.”
Kat ignored her. “Hi, Maggie? Sorry to bug you—no, no, everything is fine. Yes, mhm. No, I couldn’t sleep either.”
Elle listened. Margaret, or ‘Maggie’ McDowell, mother of the late Aubrey McDowell, she recalled. But why?
“Would you check for me?” she heard Kat saying, “Of course, sure, talk to you soon.”
Kat hung up and set the phone back on the counter. She finished off the second glass of wine and pulled another bottle from the back of her fridge. A white blend, Elle noticed. The blends always helped Kat fall asleep, Elle recalled her once saying. Without protest, Elle watched Kat refill her glass. She topped Elle’s glass off, too, ignoring that she mixed two wines. Elle didn’t mind.