by Liz Schulte
“Ella.” I felt a finger rub the end of my nose. “Ella,” the voice said again.
I opened my eyes to see Danny leaning over me. “What time is it?” I asked groggily.
He shrugged. “You’re having a nightmare.”
My dream came back to me. It was horrible. There was a strange man in our house and he wanted to kill me. I was running and running, but could not get away. He found me everywhere I hid. I was hiding when Danny woke me up.
Similar nightmares had plagued me since we moved in, but this was the first night my dream woke him up.
I tried telling Danny about the dreams, but he only teased me later. He didn’t understand because he didn’t feel the uncomfortable vibe the house gave off. He was so happy to be starting fresh and doing something he loved. I never knew how handy he was until we started renovating. It appeared I’d married a person who was absolutely wonderful at everything he did.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, I hardly remember it.” I lied.
“It must have been violent—you were kicking and crying for help.”
“I really don’t remember anything.”
He shrugged and lay back down, wrapping his arms around me as I rolled to rest my head on his shoulder. His hand gently rubbed a small circle on my back until I drifted back off to sleep.
When I next woke, it was morning and the sun was bright through the window. Stretching my stiff muscles I noticed that Danny’s side of the bed was already vacant. I listened for him in the bathroom, but was met with only silence. Navigating my way downstairs through the boxes and clutter, I sleepily appraised the never ending task in front of us. We’d been there two weeks, but were still trying to fit our stuff in and decide what we wanted to keep of the old. Every closet or corner I looked in held something new and unfamiliar. I found Danny in the kitchen eating cereal, reading the newspaper.
“Mornin’ sunshine—anymore bad dreams last night?”
“Nope, slept like a baby.” And it was true. Piper heard the sound of my voice and raced in from her bird watching out of the library window. She jumped against my legs, begging to be picked up. I scooped her into my arms and snuggled her.
“And how did you sleep last night, Piper?” Piper tilted her fuzzy head and looked at me questioningly before she licked her nose and took to chewing on my hand that was petting her. I kissed the top of her head and set her back on the floor. She happily trotted out of the kitchen and back to her self-appointed post in the library.
Danny walked over to give me a bear hug. “If only you were that open with other people.”
I rolled my eyes and swatted him. Suspicion came naturally to me. I didn’t trust most people because most people didn’t deserve to be trusted. Danny was always the life of the party, and I was always the girl on the outskirts talking to a couple people I already knew. It was amazing we ever got together.
“If other people were as trust worthy as dogs, I wouldn’t have a problem,” I replied. “And I’ve been trying. I was nice to those people at the hardware store, the Daniels.”
“Yeah, they seemed nice and young. We should invite them over for dinner some evening.”
I made a face.
“What happened to being nice?” Danny asked.
“Being nice is one thing, but we’re nowhere near having this house ready for guests.” I looked around at the boxes and piles everywhere. The kitchen table was so full we couldn’t even sit down for a meal.
“Then we can go out to dinner.”
“Fine.” I shrugged nonchalantly. Some people make friends easily; I was not one of those people. Danny loved to have big groups of people around so I would try for him. I was fonder of intimate settings, though maybe the house would seem less looming with a crowd. Or, perhaps, if I didn’t feel so alien in this town, I’d feel more comfortable in general ... It would be good for me. What could it hurt?
“Excuse me.” A voice came from behind me pulling me out of the cloud of melancholy hovered over me. I stepped to the side to let the woman pass. Why did I never feel better after leaving Dr. Livingston’s office than when I arrived? I was making my way distractedly through the maze of hospital hallways to the elevator, when a booming, triumphant voice brought me back to reality—or at least got me to peer through the prison bars of my mind.
“Ella? I knew I’d see you again!”
I glanced into the elevator for the source of the voice, hoping it wasn’t just in my head. Relief filled me as my eyes rested on a real, flesh and blood person. It took me a moment to recognize him though. I frowned out of habit. “Right ... from the bar.”
“Yep, it’s me all right—what are you doing in the hospital?”
“Visiting,” I lied. It was none of his business what I was doing here.
“Well, then I’m lucky to catch you. I have a few moments, would you like to accompany me for coffee?”
Would I like to accompany him? Seriously, who speaks like that? Should I curtsey? “Thank you, but no. There are things I need to do today.” I hoped my excuse sounded more convincing to him than it did to me.
“Later then?”
I smiled tightly. “Perhaps.”
“When will you be visiting again?”
“Next week, same time,” I said automatically, then mentally kicked myself.
The elevator door opened on the ground floor. Grant had obviously missed his stop, the strange persistent man. I stepped out and was slightly perplexed when he followed.
“Are you leaving too?”
“No, I didn’t want to hold the elevator while we finished our conversation.”
“What conversation? I’m pretty sure our small talk was over.”
“Ella, that was almost a joke,” he teased with his goofy lopsided grin.
“Who’s joking? Have a nice day Grant.”
“That’s it? You’re leaving? You’re breaking my heart.”
I waved over my shoulder and walked off without looking back. My cab was already waiting. I needed to go to the grocery store, but I was drained from the social contact. Instead, I had it take me home. Thankfully the cabbie was aware of my no talking rule and we rode in silence. I promised myself I would shop the next day ... do it “tomorrow.” It was always tomorrow. Tomorrow I would do everything I had been avoiding. Oh, how I wished tomorrow would arrive.
Walking up to the prison I called home, I heard someone snarl, “Hold it in the right place, you stupid bitch.”
I looked over at my creepy neighbor, Mr. Sexton, yelling at his wife, who looked no more than 14 years old. I made eye contact with her for only a second and had a surge of sympathy. That second, however, seemed to cost her dearly. Mr. Sexton hit the flashlight out of the girl’s hand and shoved her towards the house.
“If you can’t do nothing right, go inside,” he screamed inches from her face, pushing her once more. She lost her balance, fell to the ground.
I told myself to mind my own business and continued to walk towards my door. I wanted to say something to make him leave that child alone, but it wasn’t my place. I wasn’t getting involved. The last thing I needed was a neighbor feud on top of everything else.
I was reaching my porch when I heard him yell, “Hey girlie!”
I kept walking.
“Hey, I’m talkin' to you.”
I turned and looked at him with undisguised disgust. “What?”
“How do you like living in that big ol' house all alone?”
I had no idea how to respond so I walked in the house without responding. I stood at the door for a moment gathering my thoughts. Maybe I would tell Detective Troy about Mr. Sexton—his frequent visits might actually prove useful.
Bang, bang, bang—
The door thudded behind me, making my heart stop. I opened the door and Mr. Sexton was standing so close to the screen his nose was almost touching it. I gripped the doorknob so I could hold it closed in case he tried to come in.
“I was talkin’ to you, girlie.”
“I thought it was pretty clear I was ignoring you.”
“Don’t get all high and mighty with me, you little bitch.”
“You’re not welcome on my property. Leave or I’ll call the cops.”
“I know things—I know what you did.”
“I seriously doubt whether you would know your ass from a hole in the ground.”
“Don’t think I can’t see what is going on here.”
Before he could continue, I shut the door in his face and locked it. Then I listened for him to leave. After a couple of minutes I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. I suddenly became aware that I’d been holding my breath and let it out with a gush.
I started towards the kitchen to make some tea when the phone rang. The shrill sound was ear piercing in the silent house and made every muscle in my body contract; obviously Mr. Sexton had left me a little jumpy. My voice shook when I answered the phone, which made me cringe at my own cowardliness, but no one was there. Some days were worse than others for the hang up calls. They always left me feeling very alone and vulnerable with only the house watching me.
Sometimes my mind took its own path and wondered if someone was calling to check that I was home. It was a thought I tried dismissed as fast as it came, but with each new call, it was increasingly difficult. Finding the most opportune time to place rodent bodies in my bed, perhaps. The memory made me feel sick.
As quickly as the urge for tea had come, it passed. Vodka seemed more my speed. I drank in the living room, in the dark, in silence, cursing the house, my life, and myself. Then I drifted back into a world of happy memories not caring if I got lost there forever.
Bit by bit, despite my continuing misgivings and bad dreams, Danny and I fell into a rhythm. We made friends with the couple who owned the hardware store we were constantly in and out of because of our ongoing restorations—Susan and Doug Daniels, a very nice, normal couple around our age.. Before they moved to Montgomery, they’d lived in Seattle and worked for a software company. They moved here to start a family and be near their own.
Though the Daniels lived here and owned a business for the last five years all of us were considered outsiders by the locals. Having unfamiliar faces and being instantly labeled as "city" forged an instant connection between us. It wasn’t long before they became like family. They helped with the house in their spare time and we had dinner together weekly.
One day while Danny was with Doug at a hardware expo and Susan covered the store, I stayed home to finally do some writing. I’d been working on a new book before we moved, but since the move hadn’t written anything. It was the first time I ever had writer’s block and it drove me mad. I blamed it on being busy and settling in, trying not to acknowledge that I’d had no new ideas since I stepped foot in the house.
I unplugged the phone, so I wouldn’t be interrupted by the onslaught of hang up calls we had since moving in. I sat at my desk with Piper lying on my lap. Staring at the computer screen my mind was completely blank.
I grabbed my hard copy and settled down on the couch to read what I had last written, trying to get back into the story. As I read, my eyes became heavy and before I knew it I was napping.
The sound of the front door opening woke me. Piper bolted awake too, barking frantically. She hopped off the couch, running to see who it was.
A low male voice said, “Hello Piper,” and she stopped barking. I assumed it was Danny, though why he was whispering was beyond me. I thought about getting up to see him, but I knew if I did that my nap would be over. My tiredness won, I remained on the couch, eyes closed, hoping to recapture the comfortable sleep I had been enjoying.
Danny walked past the office, crumpling a paper bag, Piper’s quick steps right behind him. I was tempted to open my eyes, but something stopped me. A little voice inside my head whispered, “What if it’s not Danny? What if it’s someone breaking in? If they see you and you see them, they’ll have to kill you.”
I dismissed it as irrational. Of course it was Danny; who else could it be? When Piper jumped back up on the couch with me I relaxed. Had it been a stranger she wouldn't have come back. I slowly drifted back to sleep.
Sometime later, the front door opened again, but this time it was followed by Danny gently waking me. “Hey you, I thought you were writing today.”
“I meant to,” I said, stretching “Where did you go?”
His brows pulled together in a line of concern. “The hardware expo. Remember?”
“I know that, I meant just now.”
“I’m not following you.”
“You came home earlier today.”
“No, I just got home.”
“Are you joking?”
“No… I just walked in the door.”
“I heard someone come in earlier; I thought it was you. It woke me up.”
Danny looked at me for a moment to see if I was serious, then he went and checked the house. Soon he came back into the study and shrugged.
“The door was locked when I got here. It must have been a dream.”
“It wasn’t a dream. I woke up.” Seeing the disbelief in his eyes I defended my position. “Piper started barking.”
“No one is here. Nothing is missing. It had to be a dream.”
“It wasn’t—I’m a hundred percent certain.”
“Then what happened?”
“I don’t know.”
I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling of my silent house. Even with just Danny and Piper here the house had so much more energy to it. I should have insisted, made him listen to me. It was too late now, I sat up with a crick in my neck. It was dark outside and I had spilled my glass of vodka on the floor and myself. I was rubbing my neck, trying to soften the knot when a strange feeling hit me like a ton of bricks. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. I looked up quickly.
Bang! Something hit the house with tremendous force. It brought me to my feet. Through the window, I saw the porch swing rocking madly back and forth. My heart thudded wildly in my chest; I stood frozen, unsure what to do. There was a knock on the door. My heart continued beating so loudly I was surprised I could hear anything. Cautiously I walked towards the door. I didn't want to open it. My stomach fluttered. I licked my lips, though my mouth was dry like it had been packed with cotton. I reached slowly for the knob, trying to find courage where none existed. With a deep breath I pulled the handle towards me.
“Susan!” I exhaled in relief.
“Yes...” she said, giving a weird look. “Can we talk?”
“Were you just on the porch swing?”
“No...”
“Did you see someone leaving as you walked up?”
“No,” she shifted and looked over her shoulder. “The porch swing is moving.”
“Someone was here.”
“It was probably a cat.”
I looked at her with annoyance. “Why are you here?”
“I came see if you’re all right.”
“I wish people would quit asking me that.”
“You reek of alcohol.” She sniffed the air in front of me.
I self-consciously wiped my hand over my shirt where I had spilled my drink, but gave her a defiant look.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“Breakfast,” I lied.
“You should probably eat more than once a day. I’ll make you dinner.”
“I haven’t been to the store in a while. I doubt you could find anything to make.”
“I figured. I brought groceries.”
Susan picked up the bags sitting by the door and pushed past me, not waiting for an invitation. I followed her sluggishly as she walked to the kitchen. I saw her looking around the house and I knew she was judging me for not keeping it together. In the kitchen, she immediately started searching for pans and rummaging through her bags. I sat on one of the stools along the counter and watched. My mind drifted back to how it used to be.
Danny and I pulled up in front of the Daniels’ home.
>
Game night—my favorite part of the week. It was the only night we escaped the house and all that we needed to do. Danny and I stopped working early to head over to Doug and Susan’s every Thursday for an evening of fun and entertainment.
It was a good stress reliever and kept us from killing one another. Constant exhaustion and unending home repairs was making the little things the other one did, like smacking their gum, not changing the toilet paper roll, and the constant humming, unbearable. It was nice to have one night every week that we could relax.
Loud music blared from their house as we walked up to the door. Danny rang the doorbell and Doug opened it immediately as if he’d been waiting by the door. They lived in a new house in a new subdivision. It had a wonderful, open floor plan and a lot of natural light. I greeted Doug, then made my way to find Susan. Doug and Danny trailed behind me as I walked to the kitchen where Susan was dancing as she assembled pizzas. She grinned widely when she saw me.
“Hey, lady! How was your day?” she asked, bubbling with enthusiasm. Susan was the type of person who had endless amounts of energy and never seemed weary. She worked long hours at the hardware store, even more than Doug, and volunteered for countless organizations. The woman knew no limitations and I often wish I had her spirit.
Doug was much more reserved and quiet. I often caught him staring, at Susan, at Danny, occasionally even at me. Sometimes he’d stare off into space and you had to actively try to get his attention. He was always careful about what he said, never really cutting loose. Susan, on the other hand, never thought before she spoke. Everything tumbled out of her mouth as soon as it hit her brain. They were definitely a case of opposites attract, yet they fit together. Together they were a complete person, each making up for the other one’s deficiencies. To a certain degree they reminded me of Danny and me.
“Hey, yourself! What can I do to help?”
“Ummm, you want to chop vegetables for the salad?”
“Sure.” I said and grabbed a chopping knife. Doug got two beers out of the refrigerator behind me, while Danny sat at the counter watching us cook. Doug handed Danny his beer, then leaned against the refrigerator taking a swig of his own.
“Doug, you should show Danny our new entertainment system.” Susan said. She couldn’t stand to see other people just sitting around; everyone needed to be engaged in some sort of activity. She directed her attention to Danny next. “You should go look. It’s ... elaborate. Doug did all the wiring himself. We now officially have a theater room.” She spoke the words brightly, but there was an edge to her voice.
Doug rolled his eyes. “It’s only elaborate to those with the technical knowhow of an 80-year-old, but I’m always happy to show off my work. Do you want to see, Ella?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ll stay and help Susan. It’s not fair to leave her with all the work.”
The guys headed to the basement to look at the theater room, leaving us to finish dinner.
“Good, that should keep them busy for a while,” Susan said as she put the pizza in the oven and came over to help me with the salad. “So how are things with you guys?”
“Great. We finished the floors today. I’m exhausted physically and mentally, but everything’s coming along.”
“The house still picking on you?” she asked in a teasing voice. I gave her a tight grin in an attempt to keep from frowning. She sounded just like Danny.
“Something like that,” I mumbled, suddenly very interested in the mushrooms I was chopping. Neither of us said anything for a while. I felt like Susan had more to say, something she wanted to discuss, but she wasn’t sure how to approach it. Uncertainty hung in the air between us until she finally said, “Home improvements can be stressful. How are you two holding up?”
“Fine. We argue a little, but that’s life, right? Once things settle down we’ll get back to normal. How are things with Doug? Is he still sleeping the guest room? Did you talk him into couple’s counseling yet?”
Susan’s jaw clenched. “No. I envy you—at least Danny will argue with you. Doug pretends like nothing’s wrong. He spends all his time in his workshop playing with cameras, circuits, and God knows what else. I think he misses working with technology. Maybe he regrets moving here ... I don’t know he won’t talk about it” Susan flipped on the oven light to check the pizzas. . “When I ask him, he tells me nothing’s wrong, he’s just tired. I told him it’s no wonder since he stays up most of the night. That’s when he started sleeping in the guest room.” Her eye twitched from the stress. She pressed her hand against it, and forced a smile. “We’ll work it out.”
“Of course you will,” I assured her. “Everyone goes through rough patches. The two of you are perfect for one another.”
She nodded, but her eyes glistened as she put the final touches on the salad. Doug and Danny wondered back into the kitchen. I distracted them by assigning them to set the table while Susan pulled the pizzas out of the oven. I set the salad on the table and we all took our seats.
“So what’s new in the Reynolds house?” Doug asked.
“Nothing, just working away.” I said.
“Well, not quite nothing, this morning Ella told me how there was banging in the walls and kitchen all night. She barely got a wink of sleep. Apparently our house is haunted by a drummer.” Danny smiled as he started on his newest favorite thing to do. Telling “my crazy wife” stories. Susan and Doug laughed, smiling at me as if I were a silly child. I bit my lip to keep myself from making a scene.
“Have you checked the pipes?” Doug asked. “Plumbing in those old houses can do that…”
“Yeah, I’ve checked everything. Our drum-playing ghost likes apples too, isn’t that right, Ella? Tell them.”
I gave him an icy glare “What and rob you of being the center of attention? I wouldn’t dream of it. Be my guest.” I tried to keep my voice light and mocking so Susan and Doug wouldn’t know how much he was getting to me. Sometimes Danny was just so— gah!
“Apples?” Susan asked.
“Yes, apparently our apple tree in back had bushels of apples on it last week. Ella had grand plans to make a pie for tonight with them, but when she went out this morning there were no apples on the tree or the ground.”
Doug laughed and Susan wrinkled her nose. “It was probably that creepy neighbor of yours, Mr. Sexton. That man gives me the willies.”
Doug laughed even harder. “That old man is harmless.”
Susan shrugged, but Danny joined in the laughter. He kept on telling stories while Susan and Doug laughed loudly, egging him on. I sat quietly fuming about being the butt of the jokes. Eventually they tired of the subject and moved on to other things. Furious did not begin to cover what I felt towards Danny for doing that, but it wasn’t worth fighting with him.
The rest of the evening was pleasant. We talked about movies, town gossip, and anything else that came to mind. When dinner was over and the dishes were cleared Susan pulled the game choices from the closet. We decided a cut throat game of Cranium would ensue once we were divided into teams.
“Let’s do couples,” Danny said.
“No, we do that every week.” I shot the idea down thinking it might be easier on Susan and Doug, plus I was still mad.
“I’ll be on Ella’s team,” Doug said brightly. “We can mix it up a little.”
“No,” Susan said, looking uncomfortable which surprised me. “Let’s do girls against boys.” Both of the guys shrugged, but went along with the suggestion.
Susan and I won without even exerting ourselves. We played three times and each time the guys were no where even close to us. We did a victory dance around the living room after each win, as Danny watched laughing and Doug smiled.
“Well, Doug,” Danny said with feigned seriousness, “next time when the girls want to be on a team together, just say no.”
Susan and I eventually stopped gloating and soon Danny and I gathered our jackets, saying goodbye. Before I could leave Susan hugged me.
“It was fun tonight, thank you guys for coming over,” she said. Her face looked happy, but her eyes looked sad. I hugged her back then jogged to catch up with Danny on his way to the car.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked
I nodded. “Well, except for being the butt of all your jokes I did. Did you?”
“Yes, it was especially nice to see you laughing and smiling again. You're so serious at home. And you weren’t the butt of any jokes. I was simply sharing your experiences with our friends.”
“You were belittling me and you know it.”
He sighed. “I wasn’t belittling you. It’s a sad thing that you can't laugh at yourself, El.”
I didn’t reply. I had nothing to say. No matter how many times I explained myself to him, he could never see my point of view. It was all a big joke to him. We pulled in front of the house; the windows watched us suspiciously.
“Sorry,” he said quietly as we sat in the car.
I got out, slamming the door behind me.
Home, sweet home.
I yanked myself out of the memory and forced myself back to the present. Susan was looking at me like I’d grown an extra head or something. Whatever she had said I completely missed it. I attempted some sort of conversation. “You don’t have to make dinner. I'm fine, a little messy perhaps, but fine. You can go.”
“I came to see you, Ella. You don’t seem to realize you don’t have to do this all alone.”
“Funny. You weren’t here a lot while the police were investigating. I could have used you then.”
“You shut everyone out. We were grieving Danny too. I didn’t have the energy to fight you every step of the way.”
“You thought I did it,” I said, incredulous over the way she was recasting events.
“I didn’t think you did it.”
“Really.” It was hard to keep the recrimination out of my voice. “It didn’t seem that way to me.”
“Well, you seem to think a lot of things happened that didn’t actually happen,” she snapped.
I narrowed my eyes. I was not about to back down on this. “You still think I'm making this up, that I'm insane.”
“I do now, because you’re acting that way.”
“You never believed me about anything.”
“That isn’t necessarily true. I don't know how I feel about your stories. They are ... implausible, extreme. Even Danny didn’t think they were real.” Susan suddenly looked tired and sad.
“Is that why you think I killed him, because he didn’t believe me?”
“Ella, this isn't easy for me either.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” I asked coldly
She sighed. “I don’t think you killed him. I don't know who did. I want things to be they way they were—I miss having my best friend. I need a second chance … please.”
I weighed the truth behind her words. She seemed sincere, but I couldn't be sure. I would let her stay for dinner.
“At least you can’t say I am boring,” I mumbled.
“No, never a dull moment with you.” Susan understood immediately that the conversation was dropped, a veritable ‘to be continued.’ After a few moments of awkward silence, she asked, “Have you been writing?”
“No. I can’t. Nothing comes to mind. I can’t think of anything new, I can only remember. I think it’s the medication or my muse is dead.”
She shrugged. “You weren’t writing much before you started seeing Dr. Livingston. Have you written anything at all since you moved here?”
“Yes. Just not in this house. But I don't really see how my writing is any of your business. Thanks for bringing it up though.”
“So that subject’s off limits too? Exactly what can we talk about, Ella?”
I walked out of the kitchen without explaining myself.
“Where are you going?” Susan called behind me.
“To get a drink.”
“There’s a shock,” she grumbled
I pretended I didn't hear that last comment; I didn't want to talk about my drinking either.
“This is my house. If I want another drink, I’ll damn well have one. Everyone works through things in their own way.” It was something I’d told myself many times—so many times I almost believed it. I poured a double of vodka then went back into the kitchen for round two.
“Would you like anything, Susan?” She glanced up. “Or are you afraid to come over to the dark side?” I jingled the ice in my glass at her.
“Wine would be nice.”
“I'm not sure I have any.” I couldn’t remember the condition of our wine cellar. It was more Danny’s project than mine, but I went down there anyway. I had few bottles left, nothing to brag about. I brought three back into the kitchen, set them on the counter and dusted them off.
“You have your choice—Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, or Chianti.”
“So … red, red, or red.”
“Your lack of knowledge about your drink of choice never ceases to amaze me,” I told her.
She grinned. “I’ll have the merlot.”
I uncorked the bottle letting it breathe. “What are you making?”
“Pasta.”
I took in the massive amount of groceries on the counter. There was a lot more than could possibly be put in the pasta she was preparing. “What's all of this?”
“I assumed you hadn’t been to the store, so I picked up some of the essentials for you.”
“I was going tomorrow.” My words were hollow with the lack of any real intention.
Susan chose to ignore my lie. “Are you going to help me?” she asked not making eye contact.
I sighed and considered her offer. There was a time she wouldn't have had to prompt me to help, but now it was hard to even be in the same room with her.
“Never mind,” Susan said the frustration evident on her face.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Make a salad?”
I decided that it was better to be occupied than to sit there pulling up old resentments in my mind, and I began washing the spinach. We worked in silence. There was nothing to say. We were two complete strangers who just happened to be having dinner. The tension in the air was thick like smoke and it choked out any small talk that might have been attempted.
At the table Susan gave me a tight smile. I didn’t bother returning it. Instead I took a long drink of my vodka, hoping it would make me feel less ridiculous for forcing myself to participate in this charade. Whatever friendship we had died with Danny. It was time we both admitted it. She sat in front of me as a bitter reminder of all I lost.
“When did we become like this?” she asked, then laughed bitterly. “That’s become the tagline of my life.”
I frowned. “What do you expect from me?” It pissed me off that she might expect anything from me. I owed her nothing.
“Ella …”
“You know what, I don’t want to talk about it.”
She sighed and her nostrils flared. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s too late.”
“I hope that isn’t true. I need you in my life and like it or not you need me. Friends are important—and sometimes friends make mistakes and you have to forgive them.”
“Oh, Really? And what does your friendship manual say about loyalty? Or did you just gloss over that section?”
She looked down at her plate. Her eyes welled with tears. Damn it. Forgiveness was not something that was in my nature to give and I certainly wasn’t dishing any out tonight. The best I could do was change the subject for her. “How’s business?” I asked.
She rebounded quickly. “It’s okay, pretty steady. I work all the time, though I'm thinking about hiring some extra help.”
We ate and kept the conversation light and neutral. The rest of the evening was pleasant enough. There were even moments when it seemed like old times and Susan seemed happy after dinner, a renewed sense of hope showing on her face.
I was so
wrapped up in myself, however, that it wasn’t until she was leaving that I noticed how worn down she looked. I had the sneaking suspicion she had ulterior motives for this impromptu visit. I guess I would have to wait to find out what they were. I headed to bed contemplating what I needed to do to discover the truth in all areas of my life.
Chapter Six