Lights Out

by Jill Cooper

  “Or you could be a kept woman. Sell your house. I’ll get you the best place money can buy. Get you anything you want. Porsche? Bentley?”

  “You’d do that for me?” Sylvia pouted and her hands ran through his hair.

  “I’d do anything you want.” Justin whispered.

  Sylvia’s eyes closed and she moaned, slipping the sheet from his body. Like in ecstasy, her body writhed against his. “Say it again, your honor. Say it again.”

  Justin’s lip quivered and his breath rushed out. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”

  ****

  They lay in the glow of the fireplace. Justin popped grapes into Sylvia’s mouth. He would’ve peeled them for her if she asked.

  “My feet hurt,” Sylvia moaned, stretching her toes.

  “I like it when they hurt.” Justin grabbed her thigh and pushed it tight against his body. “About earlier? That nurse. Karen?”

  Sylvia eyed him with something other than seduction. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. We’re not supposed to talk about our lives.”

  It brought complications. The danger of closeness, Justin understood all that, but if Karen did something that threatened his relationship with Sylvia…. Justin wouldn’t stand for that.

  “You always said no, but hear me out. If Karen has something on you, if she plans on bringing it forward, that can’t be allowed to happen.”

  Sylvia propped herself up on her elbows. “What are you saying, Condran?”

  “I could have her taken care of. Like I did two years ago, to that no good brother of mine.” Nearly brought scandal into his life.

  Sylvia’s eyes widened. “I’m a doctor.” Her voice was shrill. “A doctor! I can’t condone… No, Condran. No. Go back to doing what you do best and that isn’t thinking.” She huffed and struggled to her feet.

  He didn’t need her permission. She didn’t need to know he’d already called in a favor.

  Justin watched her struggle to walk. She stumbled from foot to foot, looking for her clothes. Couldn’t even remember that he had taken them and locked them in the chest like he always did. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he was good and ready.

  “Terri was my friend. My friend!” Sylvia poked herself in the chest. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. I didn’t want her baby to…”

  Even then, she couldn’t say it. Justin poured her another drink and brought it to her. “You’re just coping the best you can. Bribing Karen was the best solution at the time, but if she’s had a change of heart…”

  Sylvia wrapped her hand around his offering. “That’s right. Coping. I just wanted to keep my job. I lost everything else. My husband, my kids. My reputation almost didn’t survive, I need that job more than anything.”

  Justin understood that, he did. “Anyone would do what they needed to survive.”

  Her eyes widened. “And you’d do that for me if I asked? You’d have Karen…”

  He bit his lip and nodded, an angry scowl upon his lips. “For you, it’d be worth a little accident.”

  Sylvia thoughtfully drank her whiskey down. “Just a scare. Something to make her realize, she doesn’t want to make me an enemy. This storm…we could use it to our advantage.” Her eyes widened and her lip quivered with excitement. She loved the idea of playing with fire, didn’t she?

  “I’ll make all the arrangements.” Justin kissed her hand. Good, he didn’t have to hide what he’d planned.

  “Delicate kisses? Please.” Sylvia yanked her hand back, a look of disgust on her face. “Take me back to your bed. I have a new idea on something we can do.” She cast her eye on the armoire against the wall.

  “And it has something to do with your wife’s fancy dresses.”

  Chapter 5

  Clyde

  Marriage to Terri was easy once, but now? Counseling was the last ditch effort. Clyde begged her to go. He just wanted his wife back. Losing Bobby was hard. More than hard. Terri wasn’t the only one with grief, but she wouldn’t let him back in.

  Door was slammed shut, man. Only Terri had the key and she might as well have swallowed it whole. She didn’t want the counseling, sure, Clyde knew that, but she was willing to go. Or so he thought.

  After that morning, Clyde didn’t know what to think.

  “A thing like that,” Earl, Clyde’s friend from church suggested as they met over coffee, “that kind of loss, some people can’t pull through to the other side.”

  Clyde spun his coffee cup on the table of the diner. He gazed out the window at the swirling snow. He didn’t really want to talk about this with anyone, but he had to, didn’t he? Keeping it all bottled up inside wasn’t good and the person he wanted to talk to about it, well she was barely even home these days.

  “I thought we would. We talked of trying again, another baby, but,” Clyde shrugged. “She can’t. Doctors told us she can’t and once they said that, it’s like Terri died. She isn’t the same woman she once was.”

  Earl nodded, his eyes as wide as his bald head. “Pity, all that. Every lick of it, but you’re still young. If she’s going to torture you like this, it’s time to move on. I know you don’t want to talk about divorce.”

  Clyde blew the steam away from his hot coffee and took a slow sip. He peered at Earl over the rim. “I don’t like giving up.”

  “Time to change course, Clyde.” Earl threw two crumbled bills down on the tabletop. “Don’t let her black heart get yours, too.”

  He didn’t like listening to anyone talk that way about Terri, but he was tired of defending her. Tired of it all, to be frank. Clyde nodded his thanks and checked his watch. Didn’t have anywhere to be for a while. He could head home. See if Terri wanted to talk, but the thought of seeing her right then sickened him. If he saw her right then, he might blow up. The only place he was welcome in his home was the den right across from Bobby’s nursery which had become a tomb.

  They should’ve cleaned it out long ago, at least put everything in boxes and into the garage, but Terri would have none of it. The way she looked at him when Clyde suggested it, he might as well have cut her.

  Clyde didn’t mean to hurt her. He didn’t know what to do.

  When his cell phone rang, it was a welcome distraction, even if it was a call from dispatch. “Go for Clyde.”

  “Heya, Clyde,” It was Francine, the girl was new, but she was a sweetheart.

  “What can I do for you, Frank?”

  “Superintendent. We’re clear to use the high school for an emergency base. School’s been canceled as of this morning, early Christmas break for everyone.”

  Christmas. Clyde’s stomach rolled. Somehow he had forgotten all about the holiday and what that’d bring. His home was barren of celebration. It would’ve been Bobby’s first where the idea of Santa Claus sparkled with understanding in his bright excited eyes.

  “Mitch was hoping you would head over to the school and make sure everything’s running smooth. But if you’re still tied up with your personal stuff…”

  “No,” Clyde answered too fast. Too eager. He cleared his throat. “If you need me, I’m there. Who’s running point?”

  “Samantha Johnson. She’s the principal over there and a real go-getter it seems.” Francine gave a good-natured laugh. “She has Mitch running in circles.”

  Must be why he wanted Clyde over there and not himself. He remembered Sammie from high school. She was a few years behind him, but had been a real looker, but it was Terri—the older college girl—that captivated his heart.

  Once upon a time. When Clyde still believed in happily ever after.

  It’d be nice to see a friendly face. Maybe even one that smiled at him.

  ****

  Slick roads combined with dropping visibility created a dangerous situation. Clyde made it to the high school in one piece. In the parking lot, snow plows with blinking lights cleared snow as fast as it dropped. They needed to keep it as clear as possible if rescue vehicles and pedestrians were going to make it in.

/>   With the forecast the way it was, losing power was a probability. It was just a matter of time. They needed to work fast to get things ready. Clyde turned past a truck loaded with blankets. Volunteers carried in boxes of supplies. Clyde grabbed one before he headed inside.

  The building hadn’t changed a lick since he was in school. His slick boots nearly tumbled him to the ground as he rounded into the gymnasium. Beds were setup with pillows. Clyde placed his box with the others and gazed around. Against the wall, rows of tables with food rations waited for the onslaught of people.

  Beside that, a young woman poured herself a cup of coffee. She wore a pencil skirt and a fuzzy blue sweater. Her brown hair was combed neatly against her shoulders; Clyde figured it was Sammy. Something in the way she moved her head. When he caught a glimpse of her profile, he saw the roundness of her nose. Yup, that was her. Button-head, he used to call her.

  Back when she was a lab rat and all Clyde did was chase cheerleaders. Short skirts.

  “I hope you’re not planning on shoveling snow in that skirt.” Clyde shoved his hands into his jean pockets as he slid against the table.

  Sammy’s brown eyes glinted when she saw him. It’d been a long time since he could make a girl light up like that. Felt pretty good. “Clyde? Well, it’s been a turn, hasn’t it!”

  He smiled despite himself. “Mitch sent me over. I’m here to help with anything I can. Tell me what you need and I’ll get it done.” He wasn’t one for small talk.

  Sammy nodded. “As many hands on deck as possible. Volunteers. Someone to bring them down here, if it comes to that. The parking lot and the roads have to be clear. You can tell that—what?”

  She’d noticed his grin. “You just haven’t changed a bit.”

  Sammy’s lips rolled into a frown. “If you came here to help, then help. There’re supplies that need to be moved off the truck. Call that no good boss of yours and tell him to keep the main road into the school clear. The last thing we want is people to ride it out at home with no power and no heat because the roads are too bad to go out.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Clyde gave her a pretend salute and wasn’t expecting her to grab his arm.

  But she did just that. “And I’m sorry, Clyde. I heard…about you and Terri. Just, it’s awful. I just…wanted to say something.”

  Everybody did. Everyone heard. Maybe that was the part that made it all so difficult. For Clyde, and even more so Terri, they might as well have been wearing a type of scarlet letter.

  “But you guys can try again, right? Or adopt?”

  The things people say when they’re trying to help. It cut Clyde like a dagger, but he forced a smile. “Sure. Listen, I’m going to make this call.” He wiggled his phone in the air and headed out into the hall.

  Leaning against the wall, he fiddled with his phone. Instead of dialing Mitch, he dialed Terri. The phone rang in his ear and Clyde thought of what he would say.

  I’m sorry. Let’s put us back together.

  Can we try one more time?

  But she didn’t answer. Terri never answered.

  Even when she did, it was like she wasn’t really there.

  Chapter 6

  Terri

  First rule of survival? Attitude.

  Attitude. I laughed as I shrugged into my prepared backpack. I didn’t plan on coming back to that house. I didn’t plan on anyone coming back to that house.

  In the lower pocket of the large hiking pack, all of my and Clyde’s lifesavings created a bulk that hit me in the lower curve of my spine, comforting me with its pressure.

  I’d never have to see this damn town again, remember Bobby…remember…anything.

  If my attitude was any indication, I’d blow the top off this little podunk town and everyone in it and be out of here by morning.

  Attitude. Well, wouldn’t my survivalist instructor be so proud? I fingered the locket at my neck. A piece of Bobby’s hair and a small photograph of his face they’d taken after he died would be all I needed. Everything else in that house was worthless. He’d never slept in the crib, never wore the onesies, never played with the toys.

  I couldn’t help being numb toward Clyde. He didn’t suffer with me. He didn’t seem to feel the loss of our baby like I did. I cried, but he never seemed to react. I vacillated between anger and sadness regarding him, but lately I’d just gone numb. Like he didn’t matter anymore. As far as I was concerned? Clyde didn’t deserve mementos of our life together. He didn’t deserve anything. Not when he’d abandoned me like he did.

  I clipped the waist support strap before squatting to heft the ten gallon tank of gasoline to my hip. Twisting off the cap, I dumped its contents and then spun in a circle, splashing the liquid around me in a centrifugal pattern.

  Dark splotches on the carpet and the brown microfiber couch appeared, slowly starting to fade as the gasoline evaporated into the air.

  My nose wrinkled of its own accord at the rise of the fumes. I didn’t have to go upstairs. The first ten gallons had been dumped up there, through all the rooms, the bathrooms, the landing.

  Finally. A glimpse of recovery, of moving on, had been captured with that article on vengeance. But I’d had to wait. Wait for Mother Nature to have sympathy on my loss and pain. Or, maybe, I was being punished until I’d cried enough, hurt enough. I don’t know.

  I was ready to move on. I needed to. I couldn’t handle the heart wrenching despair any longer. I was desperate for something to replace my grief.

  Would remorse have been better? Maybe. I’m not sure I could feel anything at that point except satisfaction. Finally, my plans were in action. I could move forward. Finally move on.

  I hoped.

  I stomped through the kitchen dangling the tank upside down, the splash audible in the confined spaces.

  At the backdoor, I turned, glanced once more at the interior of my prison and tossed the plastic gas tank toward the oak dining table. The hollow thud as it bounced off the edge and then landed on the floor made my lips curl.

  I slipped out the door, holding it open by just a few inches. Didn’t want to waste any of those valuable fumes. My experience with gas, over multiple trial and errors, had proven that the explosion wouldn’t be an explosion like in the movies. Not at first. But I still had to hightail it out of there.

  There wasn’t time to rethink my plan, even if I wanted to. Which, really? Why run from sweet revenge? No calories and it felt so good to obtain.

  I struck a wood match and tossed it through the opening. I wasn’t worried about it taking hold. There were so many fumes; they seeped from the seams of the house.

  A house I felt nothing for.

  I sprinted down the stairs, my pack grating on my thin shoulders.

  Ducking behind the wood pile on the edge of the drive, I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears.

  Nothing.

  Opening my eyes, I half-pivoted on my knee, turning to check. The heat struck me first, then the whoosh knocked me back, under the toppling pile of wood and snow.

  Sparks and debris settled around me as the house crackled and snapped in the jaws of flames.

  I brushed ash from my face, blinking as the trees above me blurred and swayed. In all my first aid and first responder courses I’d learned that a moment to assess saved time in the end–and maybe a life.

  My head pounded, I’d most likely hit it on the gravel when I fell. But I could feel my hands and legs. I’d have to go with my assumptions that I was shaken, not broken– like a dirty martini.

  Pushing up to lean on my elbows, I glared at the split wood haphazardly covering my lower body. Slowly pulling out from under the splintery, snowy mess, I assessed my knees and ankles.

  All good. I stood, grinning wildly at the inferno swallowing my past. My pain wouldn’t disappear–yet. But this was the start.

  There was no going back.

  Hell was coming, and I couldn’t be more excited.

  ~~~

  The hike to Sanderson
’s storage units took less than an hour, thrusting the chill of night around me along with the realization that I hadn’t told anyone else my plans.

  I had no one to commiserate with. No one to double check my logic, my steps. For a moment, I considered what I was looking for. But I wasn’t. I was just once again making sure I hadn’t missed something.

  Not likely.

  Tromping over the fresh snow, I ducked behind the bushes at the sudden glow of headlights rushing at me. When they passed, I stood, clapping my hands together, the sound muffled in my gloves.

  No sirens yet. Either no one noticed the mountainside burning or no one cared. This damn town–it was probably the latter.

  Sanderson’s street lamps glowed orange in the night. The full reach coned by the heavily falling snow. The light in his office burned with a yellowed intent. When I wasn’t with him, he worked. That was it.

  And I was only with him when I needed to be.

  My hiking boots crunched over the snow, eating the distance to his office building.

  In no time, I stood outside his office window, waiting for him to notice me. After a moment, he looked up–his brown eyes framed in narrow wire-rimmed glasses and his unkempt hair falling across his forehead.

  A smile brightened his face and he jumped from his seat. He reached back and steadied a stack of uneven paperwork he’d bumped with his curvy hip.

  At the door, he smoothed his hair. I tried not rolling my eyes, but come on. We’d had sex, multiple times. Quit trying to impress me already.

  As long as I needed him, I couldn’t tell him I found his fumbling around in the dark annoying and sophomoric. No. I’d have to wait for that brutal honesty. It wasn’t entirely his fault his dick had disappeared under the overlapping mass of his stomach.

  And it wasn’t his fault I still only wanted Clyde in that way.

  I smiled at him as he flipped the locks open. Acting like I respected him after he cried the first few times he came took a lot of control. Honestly, I’m not sure I had the patience at that point. My head was really starting to pound.