by Christina OW
I loved everything about Kristy, she was my conscious and the best part of me. Mother always saw her as my way of rebelling against her. I won’t deny that was an added benefit seeing my mother frown on my choices- which drove her crazy trying to correct my mistakes.
“The only reason you still respect my mother’s existence is because I ask you to.”
“No, it’s because I love you and I don’t have any other choice,” she said with a very patient look on her face.
“You and mother never hit it off. You two are as civil to each other as two hungry lions in a six by eight cage.” I laughed remembering the shouting match they once had over my mother’s choice of wardrobe.
“I don’t like people who are cruel to animals,” Kristy said with a frown.
“She has two dogs she treats better than either of us. The only thing cruel about that is that she dresses them in matching sailor suits.”
“Your mother has real fur in her closet. Did she stop to think about the poor creature that was missing it? No.” She retorted, taking her aggression out on the poor veggies, “What if it was her fur someone was wearing? I tell you one day those poor creatures will go calling.”
“The revenge of the wild,” I said dramatically. She lifted the spoon and pointed it at me, before she could do anything else with it the door bell rang. I rose to answer it; grateful that who ever it was just saved me from a beating.
“Morris.” Caught off guard I added quickly, “how are you?” He was the last person I expected to see. He had been here only two days ago and he was the type of guy you saw once in a blue moon. Well, once a month.
What did he want?
“I’m good. Who are you talking to?” He stepped in and headed for the living room, “And what are you cooking, it smells good.” I closed the door and followed him. The kitchen was empty and the steaming pot was left unattended. Kristy must have gone into the bedroom.
“No one. I’m making some beef stew, with no beef. Would you like to stay for dinner?” I asked half heartedly begging he would say no.
“Wow, no beef? My sister ruined you!” He joked sadly, “No, I’m not going to stay for too long.”
Yes! “So what brings you by?”
“I heard you’re back at work. Don’t you think it’s too soon?”
I should have expected this, but it was out of place that Morris was the one who was here asking. This was Sandra’s forte. “What would your sister say?”
He took off his coat and sat down. “Live while you still have a life to live.”
I sat down opposite him, “Exactly.”
He looked around for a while before he settled on me, he looked distressed and confused, “How can you stand to stay here, don’t the memories torture you?”
I’d never thought of moving, it wasn’t an option for me, and one I wasn’t willing to consider, “It’s why I stay, the memories keep me sane.”
“Everyone has their own way of coping.” Morris’s face dulled before it creased in anger, “I talked to the district attorney today, he said the judge will rule on the sentencing tomorrow. I hope he gets life for what he did to my sister!”
I felt a cold chill run over me. It had been a while since I bothered to think of my wife’s murderer. I never attended a single trail; I found it difficult just sitting there, with the killer a few feet away from me and not attack him. The night of the accident still played in my mind like a movie that was stuck on a loop.
We just had dinner to celebrate our third anniversary. We got in the car and drove talking and laughing about the chef who told off a customer after he sent back his steak complaining it wasn’t well done. We were so sure the chef was going to show him how well done he could make him and his steak. I tried to slow down when we got to a red light but the car wouldn’t stop. We crossed into the intersection and the next thing I heard was my wife screaming as two bright lights came for us. I pulled her down and covered her as much as I could with my body and then the car was hit. The last thing I heard was metal crushing against metal as the car spun after we were hit again at the back before everything went black.
I woke up in the hospital after been in a coma for two weeks to be told my wife was dead. I went so crazy with rage and sorrow that the doctors had to sedate me at a three hourly interval and kept me strapped to my bed. I wanted to die that day, but I wanted to kill the man who did this too me and more.
The police caught the man who killed my wife a few weeks later. He was apparently someone my wife’s protesting group had managed to shut down because of his illegal disease experiments on animals. He’d lost everything he owned. I always wondered why he picked her and not someone else to take revenge on. There were three other protest leaders to choose from.
I blinked a few times and pulled myself out of the painful daze I was in. I looked up at Morris’s worried face, and smiled. “They caught him and he’s going to pay for what he did to us. But we need to go on with our lives now that the final chapter is over and done with.”
Morris’s face relaxed, “You should give me the number to that shrink your mother got you. She seems to be a miracle worker.”
I laughed, glad we were changing the topic, “She’s cute too, and maybe she’ll be able to convince you to stop being a bachelor.”
“I highly doubt that. I’m the black version of your brother Ron, love them and leave them. Speaking of Casanova, when will we see him again?”
“Ask your sister to call him, he’ll come running.” I laughed.
Morris laughed. “He’ll come running alright, I just hope with a bullet proof vest on.”
Sandra had drooled over Ronald once, but after their one date she made a complete one eighty and now she couldn’t stand the sight of him. She always said he didn’t do anything wrong to her but there had to be a reason for the change. But she wouldn’t say, neither would Ronald.
Morris stood up and picked up his jacket. “I have to go now, hot date at eight.”
I stood up and hugged him, “Love them and leave them. Thank you for stopping by, I’m glad we are still close even after...” I still couldn’t bring myself to say it. Hearing my wife was dead was hard enough and being one of the many to say it was too difficult for me to do.
“You will always be my brother, nothing will change that. Don’t worry I’ll show myself out.” When he got to the door, he turned and yelled, “Call Sandra, she’s worried about you and you know when she worries...”
“She worries herself sick, literally.” I finished his statement, “I’ll call her tonight.” I heard the door close and Morris was gone.
“What was all that about?” Kristy’s sweet voice sailed into the room. I turned to find her sited where Morris had been sitting. I smiled at the beautiful sight of her. I walked across to join her, lifting her and placing her on my laps.
I ran my fingers down her cheek and under her chin and then lifted her head up to brush her lips with mine. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty self about.”
“Honey, don’t forget you need to call Sandra.” Kristy whispered on my lips.
“Right, Sandra,” I drew back reluctantly and reached for the phone on the lamp table. I dialled her number and held the phone to my ear, my eyes glued on Kristy’s face. “Your eyes look like they are dancing the waltz- elegant, perfect and beautiful.”
“What was that?” Sandra’s voice echoed in my ear. I hadn’t realised she was already on the line. Kristy put her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles.
“Aah... nothing,” I cleared my throat before I went on, “I just wanted to call and say hi.”
Chapter Three
I stood in front of the mirror fixing my blue striped tie. My wife gave it to me as a birthday present with matching cufflinks. She said they complimented my blue eyes perfectly. I smiled, remembering how she had modelled them wearing one of my white shirts pretending she was Naomi Campbell on the cat walk. That was a long passionate night and a very late morning- it was a good thing I’
m friends with my boss.
I looked at my bed expecting to find Kristy still asleep but she was up. I picked up my jacket from the long couch and walked out of our bedroom. I came round the corner to find Kristy in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Her curly hair was held up and she had my rugby jersey on which she had turned into a night gown. I always thought she looked way better in it than I ever did.
I looked at her, taking in her beauty and how delicate she seemed. I especially loved how small her neck was and how the strand of her curly hair had gotten loose and it lay provocatively along her neck. She turned to find me staring at her. Her lips curved up in a giddy girly smile.
She plated my toast and eggs and placed it on the counter next to my orange juice and fruits. “Good morning.”
I didn’t answer, I walked to her like a man under a spell and gathered her in my arms and kissed her deeply. I pulled away breathless then nuzzled my face in her neck and took in her sweet scent.
“Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.” She said breathlessly, her hand resting on my cheek.
I pulled back to look at her, a wide smile dominant on my face, “How could I not when I have you to look forward to every morning?”
She pushed me back playfully, “You and your charm. Eat your breakfast.” I went round and sat on the stool still smiling.
“So what do you plan on doing today?” I asked sipping my steaming hot coffee. She always knew how to make it- strong enough to give me a jolt and sweat enough to give me a buzz.
She turned her back to me and pretended to busy herself on the off stove. That always meant she was about to tell me something she was sure I wouldn’t like one bit.
“Well...” she began dragging her words out, “I thought I would visit the coast for a day or two.”
I put my cup down and looked at her arched back, “What for?” My voice was harsh, harsher than I intended it to be, “who invited you?” I said a little softer than before.
She turned around and gave me a soft gaze, her lower lip tucked inside her mouth, “There was a major oil spill...”
“No, you’re not going anywhere!” I yelled standing up and matching towards the door. I needed to leave, now!
“Why not?” she came after me, “This is what I do, this is me and you’ve known that for years.”
I opened the door and stepped out. “One of these days you are going to get yourself killed and you won’t be as lucky as last time!”
She went quite. All the anger drained from her as her body slouched, her lips curved down and her tearing eyes filled with sadness. “That already happened, William.”
I froze at that for a second as a cold chill rushed through me. The sound of the crush and my wife’s screams filled my head squeezing my chest tighter in a fist. I didn’t look back at Kristy, I walked away closing the door behind me.
*
“What’s up, where do you keep drifting off to?” John asked settling down in the chair.
I looked up at him still peeved from that morning’s argument with Kristy. I hated arguing with her, but she could be so damn stubborn and hard headed when she wanted something. For once why couldn’t she put me first before her wonderful mother nature!
“I’m just a little frustrated. I hate arguing in the morning.” I stood up and turned to the portrait of the woman I love hanging on my wall. She was so bull headed!
“Say the word and the guy is gone!” John joked, “Until he or she sues us for wrongful dismissal.”
I chuckled wishing I could do that with my headache, “I wish it was that easy.” I turned to him, “Sometimes I just want to...” I held my hands up in an imaginary chock hold, “then I remember I love this woman and I can’t live without her.”
He laughed. “I’ve wanted to do that to my wife a couple of times but the number one suspect is always the husband!”
“I just wish she’d listen to me just this once,” I turned back to the portrait, a sinking feeling weighing down on my chest, “I can’t go through that again.”
“Just ask her nicely, beg if you have to.” He exhaled, “Your girlfriend in the same line of work as your wife?”
I turned to him confused. “What?”
“It’s good to see that you’ve moved on,” he stood up and moved closer to me, “But don’t you think it’s a little too soon? It’s only been what, five six weeks since Christina ...”
“Kristy,” I corrected cutting him off, “And no I don’t have a girlfriend,” I turned back to Kristy’s portrait.
“Okay....” he sounded confused, “Is your mother in town?” there was a little audible fear in his voice.
I smiled turning to him. My mother was equated to the boogie man to everyone I knew. “You can rest easy John. My mother is safely locked away in her castle in London.” The relief in his face made me laugh.
“So Sandra is driving you crazy?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Who else do you know who would go running to that BP oil spill with the queen’s royal band matching behind her?!” I was so annoyed I couldn’t think! Why would she put me through this again!
“Kristy?” John sounded out her name cautiously.
“The one and only love of my life,” I slouched into the chair wondering what I could do to keep her home. I should probably lock her in our room tied up to a chair but that was illegal in every state in the world. And Kristy was one who didn’t like her freedom restricted.
“Kristy... that Kristy?” his voice raised in an alarm as he pointed to the portrait behind me.
“Who else would we be talking about?”
“William, Christina... that Kristy... is dead.”
His words shot me upright in my chair. I could feel my throat tighten and a cold chill sweep through me. Did I really have to say it out loud? Why couldn’t they understand that I didn’t like the word dead in the same sentence as my wife’s name?
John took a step back. “I know it’s hard,” his voice full of emotion, “but we buried your wife a few weeks ago, so you can’t possibly be having a conversation let alone arguments with her!”
“John, please leave, I have work to do.” I hissed through my clenched teeth.
“William, Kristy is dead!”
A fit of rage hit me carrying me away like a house caught in a tornado. “Will you stop saying that?!” I yelled pushing the chair back hard as I stood up, “Why do all of you keep insisting on putting the word dead in the same sentence as my wife! I know she’s dead you don’t have to keep bloody reminding me of it!”
John had a twinkle of fear in his eye as he stared at me like I was a rabid dog ready to attack him. “William, I think you should go home. Take the leave you were supposed to in the first place,” he spoke carefully to me like he was soothing a child.
“I don’t need to take a break. I’m fine.” The rage echoed in my voice.
“William, pick one. Paid leave or I fire you on the spot?” He said with such conviction I didn’t doubt it wasn’t a bluff, “You need to grieve, and you also need help. You are speaking to your....” he stopped, “this isn’t healthy.”
I glared at him; my hands clenched tightly holding back the urge to hit him. But it wasn’t that easy, nothing was that easy anymore. I picked up my coat and briefcase and stomped out of the office without saying another word to him.
My wife isn’t dead!
*
“Hey, don’t break my door down!” Kristy exclaimed when I banged the door behind me. I was peeved, no I was past that, I was so mad all I could see was red! I wanted to strangle John. In fact running him over with a two hundred pound trailer sounded more satisfying! “Will, what are you doing here so early?”
“That John!” I hissed. “I just want to...” I held my hands up like I was choking an imaginary John.
“Calm down,” Kristy crossed over to me and pulled my hands down, “Before you commit capital murder, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“They think I’ve lost my mind.” I broke away from her and crossed over to the fridge. I took out a beer and rushed the cold liquid down my throat, “he’s the one who’s lost his mind!”
“Babe,” she pulled the bottle away from me, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the problem is.”
“Today I was telling him about how you ruined my morning and he says ‘Will your wife is dead’ and I know that, I was there when it happened... but then, there is nothing dead about you! You are standing right here in front of me!”
I took the beer back from her and tossed the rest of it down my throat. But it didn’t give me the feeling I wanted. Real beer was one thing the Irish had over the Americans. I missed that.
“William, we need to talk.” The worry in Kristy’s voice made me turn to her.
I moved back to her, the sadness in her face worried me. “Darling what’s wrong?” I placed my hand on her warm cheek and brushed away the one tear that escaped her with my thumb, “Honey, you are scaring me, what’s the matter?”
She held on to my wrist with her hands and turned to kiss the inside of my palm. She was holding on to my hand like it was a life line, “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey,” I took her face in between my palms and kissed her lips, “It’s not your fault John is a prick.”
“John isn’t a prick,” she cried, the tears flowing freely, “And it is my fault!”
Before I could say another word to comfort her, the door bell rang. I wanted to ignore it but the constant buzzing meant one thing, it was Sandra assaulting my door bell. “I need to go open for your sister before she breaks my door down.” I barely got three steps to the door when it flew open and Sandra and Morris rushed in. “Why bother to ring the door bell if you have a key?”
“I didn’t want to invade your privacy but since you were taking a life time to open it...” Sandra stopped in front of me, her eyes scanning my face carefully. “John called,” her tone turned down from impatient to concern.
“Yeah man, what’s up?” Morris asked looking around the open space.
“John,” I huffed, “That man is bloody annoying!” I walked into the kitchen and pulled two beers out, “Morris heads up!” I warned before I tossed the bottle to him. He caught it effortlessly, “Sandra, what would you like?”