by Remember Me
romping around with everyone else in the land afterwards either.
I think I have grown to understand why she aborted me, as well as the two children
before me. She sounds as if she always lived her life to please one person, the only one who
mattered to her, herself.
Meeting her and seeing how disgustingly perfect of a life she pretends to have, makes me
really angry. She hasn’t said an unkind word to me since the first time I saw her, but I have never
met anybody who I can honestly say I detest more.
I can’t wait to show her how wrong she is about her husband. Her life was a lie in the
past, and it still is today. It makes me feel terrible to think how much I am just like her. My
whole life is a lie, and I really want to get even with Jeremy. I actually find myself wanting to
take her advice. I want to get even with someone who just uses people. I want to destroy one of
these people, and then I want to destroy Heather.
Her life was so important to her, she decided that ending mine was the easy way out. She
figured that I would be a burden, and ruin her life and dreams. She thought I would come
between her and this fairy tale life she pretends to live. Well, I’ll show her how correct she is. I’ll
make her life as miserable as she originally dreamed I would. As a matter of fact, I’ll make it
even worse...”
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Chapter Eleven
Margaret climbed out of bed late the next morning. She had gone to sleep quite late the
night before and knew she needed some rest. She awoke refreshed, but a little disturbed. Strange
and erotic thoughts had wandered up from the depths of her mind and haunted her dreams in a
creepy fashion. Visions of Jeremy, and events from the past that she held as fond memories,
crept out of the places she had buried them. Once unleashed to the freedom of her mind, the
dreams took a terrible turn, becoming twisted and disturbing.
The dreams had enticed her imagination, and indeed she felt quite relaxed from the
arousals of her sleep, but the dream soon changed drastically. Margaret vividly recalled one
dream in particular, unleashing memories of a time when she and Jeremy shared a passionate and
uninhibited evening of exploration.
The sight of his face, beads of sweat dripping down his cheeks and breathing heavily
unleashed itself to her thoughts. The dream felt so real, as though she could feel his skin on her
own, and his gentle kisses driving her insane as she held him closer, never wanting to let him go.
Then she closed her eyes, unable to keep focused as the intensity overpowered her, but upon
opening them, the dream took on a horrifying picture, as she found it was no longer Jeremy
whom she shared this intimate moment with.
“Ouch...” Margaret said aloud as she pinched herself. She stared directly into the mirror,
waiting for the water in the sink to cool. Seconds later, she leaned over and splashed the brisk
water across her face, washing away the thoughts and awakening fully. Margaret wanted nothing
more than to forget about the visions of her sleep.
The dreams didn’t really surprise Margaret. Her last thoughts as she drifted off were of
her plans to get back at Heather for the act she had committed. She had toyed with the idea of
using Todd as a tool in her scheme, but didn’t think he would make his way into her
subconscious thoughts. She still had nothing solid to use against Heather, but several ideas had
crossed her mind.
The most promising thing she could conjure was to somehow bring Heather back
together with the man whom she had shared that blissful event with almost eighteen years ago.
She wanted to see Heather squirm, pulling her down off her pedestal. She knew that by bringing
the former lover back out of the closet, she could cause some major tension in the household. It
was a start.
The cold water started to take effect on her, and her senses widened to her present state.
She removed the night shirt she had worn to bed, exposing her nakedness in the large bathroom
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mirror. She dropped the shirt to the floor, staring at the mirror as she did, and a sickening feeling
started to form in the center of her unsettled stomach.
Margaret remained focused on herself, feeling belittled and undignified. It hurt to think
that she had to look with shame at herself, and knew that it was unhealthy to see herself in such a
manner. Watching herself undress brought back an anger she hadn’t felt in some time. She
couldn’t believe the things she had done to please Jeremy and his wild fantasies. Sometimes the
pleasure a partner gains doesn’t balance out the embarrassment it causes the other person in the
process.
Jeremy often requested that Margaret undress before him, and in the beginning, she
thought that she enjoyed it. He would sometimes join in the fun, making it a carefree experience.
In time, however, the request occurred more frequently, and he stopped treating her with respect
while she revealed herself to him. He would make crude remarks, making her feel ashamed and
nasty. The love making ended there, and she would finish undressing only to satisfy his desire,
hoping that later he would make up for it.
Margaret had never realized his manipulation and use of control until they were watching
a movie one evening when his parents were away. It was an erotic film, or so he thought, but she
didn’t see it the same way. As she watched the man command his lover in a cold tone to undress,
she realized the similarities to her own relationship. That was the night she realized that she and
Jeremy would never last, and an end would someday come.
It’s funny how after you break up with someone, that all you remember is their faults, she
thought to herself. They had shared some wonderful moments, and he usually treated her with
respect, but their relationship’s awful ending made it easy to remember the bad. In time, she quit
undressing for him, much to his dissatisfaction. Margaret didn’t like him making her feel like a
tramp. The movie, and the scene from it, remained permanently imprinted on her mind.
She decided to have breakfast before attempting a shower. Her stomach felt incredibly
empty, and she wanted to settle it with a full meal. She pulled her robe off the rack behind her,
covering up her bare skin. She cleared her mind of the memories, both good and bad, and took a
deep breath. After she ate, the warm water from the shower head would wash the disturbing
images from her body, but right now she needed food.
The house sounded quiet with abandonment this late in the morning. Her aunt and uncle
had left her a note telling her that they had gone to a horse show. They had asked her if she
wished to go the night before, but she declined pleasantly, telling them she had business to attend
to.
The empty house was a pleasing sight to Margaret. She had run around so stressed the
past several days, that she needed this time to herself. She frolicked around the home while
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eating her breakfast, allowing the tension to drift aimlessly away. Almost two hours passed
before she finally left the house to begin her day.
Margaret reached the library before noon, recognizing the same librarian at the front desk
as on her last visit. The building seemed more utilized by the public this late in the morning. She
decided to wander around and seek out the phone books by herself, not wishing to disturb the
woman who looked deeply involved in the steamy novel she read. It didn’t take long for her to
locate the small shelf which housed the items she searched for.
The library had phone books from across the state. Margaret took a seat at the table
nearest the shelf and pulled out the small map she had photocopied of the state. She walked over
to the shelf and pulled out several books with listings near the town of Jefferson, the last location
she knew of her father.
The time passed slowly as she first searched the white pages for the name of Greg
Thompson. She didn’t realize how common of a name Thompson was until she thumbed through
the pages of countless Thompsons throughout the area. She knew that her efforts here might
prove futile. Greg Thompson might choose not to list his number, or worse, he might live on the
other side of the continent. Still, Margaret kept her optimism.
After studying the Jefferson phone book, Margaret looked through the books of the
communities immediately surrounding the city. It was much later that she found the man’s name
in a community about fifty miles away from Jefferson, in a small town. He owned his own
automobile repair shop.
Thompson Automobile Repair seemed like a large outfit from the ad that Greg Thompson
had taken out in the business section. Margaret knew she needed to make sure he was the right
person. Chances that this was the right man were slim, but she had a feeling about it as she
looked down at the ad on the page.
Margaret pulled out her map and tried to figure out the distance from the auto shop to
Harrison. It didn’t look like more than an hour drive. With nothing to lose, Margaret decided that
any lead she found was something. She carefully wrote down all the information she could find
about the place, as well as this Greg Thompson’s home phone number.
Margaret spent another hour looking through other phone books in the state, locating two
more Greg Thompsons, probably related, as they lived in the same town. The home of these
individuals sat at the other end of the state, and she knew it would take longer than an hour to get
there. She decided Thompson Automobile Repair was probably her best lead, and planned out
how she would follow it up. The clock showed noon as she walked out of the city library.
Several hours later, Margaret knocked on the Whitmore’s front door. The sun’s intensity
made the temperature soar this afternoon until it felt almost unbearable. The immense heat
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quickly reminded her that the air conditioning in her car needed recharging, but she had no desire
to deal with long waits and crooked, egotistical repairmen on such an uncomfortable day. She
desperately hoped that somebody was home at the house. Margaret felt lonely sitting home with
no company and wanted to see Carol. Heather’s car was gone, but her husband’s Cadillac sat
parked in the driveway.
The door finally opened and the blast of cool air from inside supplied her with a split
second of relief as the differing air pressures equilibrated. Margaret stared up at the overbearing
man who had answered it. It was Mayor Whitmore, and he gave her a half hearted smile as he
looked down at her. She hated it when people smiled down on her like that.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Mayor Whitmore, remember me?” Margaret asked with a smile.
“Refresh my memory,” he uttered with a look of confusion. She didn’t really expect him
to, but he seemed interested in her now, just like a politician.
“I’m Margaret,” she reminded him, sure that she would follow the same scenario the next
time they met. “Your daughter introduced us a couple of days ago at your office.”
“Oh yes,” Todd spoke. “I’m sorry, I meet a lot of people. I apologize, please come in.”
“Thank You,” Margaret said as she stepped into the cooler environment inside the house.
“Carol went with her mother to the store,” Todd explained to his young guest. “They
should be back any moment now. You’re welcome to wait in the living room if you’d like. I have
some work to do in my office, so if you want to just make yourself at home, they should arrive
anytime.”
“All right,” answered Margaret. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. It’s just miserable
outside.”
She turned her back to the man and walked towards the familiar living room to wait for
her friend’s return. There was a slight pause before the door closed behind her, and she felt a
cold sensation run up her spine as she realized that his eyes followed her across the room. What a
sick man, she though to herself, checking out his own daughter’s friends.
“I’m just down the hall if you need anything,” Todd informed her as he turned away and
walked back towards his office. She turned around and watched him disappear down the hallway
to the other end of the house. He whistled as he walked, an annoying and belittling whistle.
Jeremy used to whistle all the time.
Margaret walked into the living room and sat down on one of the sofas. She pinched her
shirt and pulled it back and forth away from her skin, fanning the droplets of perspiration which
covered her back and chest. She searched the room for a remote to the television while waiting
for Carol to arrive back with her mother.
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Margaret sat for quite a while, allowing her mind to wander over the events of the past
week. It seemed strange to sit alone in the house, knowing that she shared it with Amy’s father.
He was a twisted man, probably having some wild fantasy about her in the other room. It gave
her and eerie feeling. Her emotions toiled with her ability to rationalize, and somewhere in it all
she developed a strange thirst for revenge. The recent talk with Heather stuck out in her mind.
How interesting, Heather’s advice actually appealed to her. The images from last night’s dreams
still bounced back and forth in her mind, and Todd, just down the hall. She wondered if she
approached him, whether he would make an advance on her.
Jeremy had hurt her, probably more than she realized. His lies and deceit proved a sharp
knife, cutting deeply into the tattered remains of what she called trust. She knew their
relationship was more like an act of convenience than a bond of love or romantic relationship.
There was never a future for them, but the relationship still needed some trust to function.
Her thoughts drifted back further to the night of her graduation. She kept seeing Jeremy
with the other girl, remembering the pain she felt knowing he had cheated on her. Then, in the
same image, she saw Todd with the various women she had witnessed him with. It was then that
she realized just how alike they were.
Perhaps Heather was right, Margaret thought to herself. Maybe she and Heather had more
in common than she realized, jus
t like Todd and Jeremy. The only distinction was that Margaret
knew the truth about every one of them. The thought of revenge tempted her deeply. She wanted
to take someone like Jeremy, and make him feel small and insignificant. She wanted to take
away this person’s self respect, and turn the tables in the manipulative art.
Margaret closed her eyes, realizing the horrible nature of the thoughts crossing her mind.
It sickened her to think her mind could even contemplate such an idea, but then, everything she
had found the past week had sickened her, and she had grown more accustomed to the feeling.
One thing kept coming back to Margaret. The way Heather talked about her husband, and
how she could never believe her husband had cheated on her. She seemed so blind to what went
on around her. Todd played the game better than Heather, and he would keep getting away with
it. He truly was a professional. She had pictures of him, but it wasn’t enough. She worried that he
might get some personal satisfaction from seeing the pictures, and he probably had some of his
own. The impact she left on his life had to prove more devastating than that. She had to do more.
Margaret wanted revenge, and nothing could stop her. She had carried her feelings of
betrayal around for far too long. She wanted to make somebody beg, she wanted to return some
of the pain and anxiety. She wanted to see Todd as a powerless pawn, like the women he seduced
and betrayed so often.
Suddenly she knew what she had to do. She would confront him with the truth. Over the
past few days, her feelings and instincts were clouded by a deep haze which kept her from seeing
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clearly, but she now felt sure of her purpose. Deciding that she couldn’t resist the temptation,
feeling that her instincts served her well, she peeked out the window to see if Heather had driven
up yet.
Her thoughts collided wildly in her head as she walked down the hallway to Todd’s home
office. The walls seemed to urge her on, growing brighter as she neared the entrance to the study.
She reached the door just as she finished formulating her plan of attack. Then something else
occurred to her. It wasn’t enough. She remembered her own feelings from a controlling partner,