Katie emptied the trunk, piling everything on the sidewalk. She then began to reload, starting with the largest totes. She shoved, cussed, bent corners, and sat on the boxes to flatten them and make them fit. Neighbors milled about, pretending they weren’t watching.
A young black man rested against a telephone pole. He’d grown up in the neighborhood with Katie, and although not exactly friends, they watched out for one another. He chewed the end of his cigarette, taking in all the details. “So, you married this guy?”
Katie wiped sweat off her face. “Yes, Vonte. You know I did.”
“You just gonna let him sit in the truck?”
“It’s okay, he doesn’t understand.”
“Oh, he understands just fine, sister.” Vonte pushed away from the pole and thumped the side of the truck with the flat of his hand.
A startled Jack climbed out to help cram the last two boxes into the trunk. “You hold the boxes down while I lower the lid as far as I can. Take your hands out when I yell three, okay? One…two…three!”
Katie yelped as Jack slammed the lid.
“Whew. Made it!” Jack wiped his brow with broad, exaggerated sweeps.
“That’s gonna explode when we open it!” Katie warned.
The trip took over five hours since the truck couldn’t travel fast and needed gas every hundred miles. Katie had the honor of paying the bill.
Resigned to the fact her last paycheck would be gone, Katie bought fast food and Slurpees. “Enjoy every drop.” She clunked her foam cup against his, “That’s the last of the dough.”
After they unloaded her stuff into Jack’s small underground garage, Katie started to haul boxes inside. Jack stopped her. “Leave them there. You’re just gonna have to pack it all up again.”
“But ...” Katie stood in the garage, holding a tote. “I can’t live out of boxes.”
“You’ll find what you need. It’s only a few weeks.”
Not wanting an argument after their long trip, Katie set the tote down.
What do I know about moving? She convinced herself Jack’s logic made sense.
Chapter 8
Katie spent her first week in Savannah, lost. Despite GPS, the one-way streets were confounding, and she found something as simple as going to the grocery store stressful.
Jack complained daily, “I can’t afford to pay for both of us.
“The groceries are higher, I’m paying for the cell phones, and even the gas in your car.
“You need to find a job!”
“It’s not like I’m not trying, Jack,” Katie defended herself.
His apartment became claustrophobic, and she ventured out daily, trying to find employment. A week later, a jubilant Katie met Jack at the door. “I have a job!”
“Really? Where?”
“The Blue Heron Bar and Grill,” Katie rushed to explain. “You know the one I mean? It’s three blocks from here.”
When Jack said nothing, Katie talked faster, “I got lost again today, and as I was making a U-turn, there it was, ‘Help Wanted.’ I applied, and I start this Friday night.”
“I don’t want you waitressing. Men will be flirting and trying to touch you all the time.”
“Like you did when we first met?” She meant it as a joke, but the humor was lost on him.
“You need to find something else.”
He repeated it the next morning, and Katie called the restaurant to decline the job. “I’m sorry, but I’ve had another offer,” she lied, not wanting to admit her husband had said no.
She applied at a nearby department store, but they only offered second-shift hours.
“We’ll never see each other,” Jack pouted, and Katie’s list of potential jobs grew smaller.
Katie brightened her days with calls back home. The time passed quickly as she gossiped with Aunt Susan, Renae, and Donette. Embarrassed they may have been right about moving too fast with Jack, Katie glossed over her married life telling her friends, “Things are great!”
When the cell phone bill arrived, Jack was livid. “Twenty-minute calls to each of your friends? We can’t afford this.” He shook the bill in her face.
“Can’t we get one of those unlimited plans?”
“That costs money, too, Katie” He sighed in disgust.
Shorter calls turned into less frequent calls as Katie nervously watched the clock, ending the conversations prematurely. The exception was her once a week call to Aunt Susan. On that, Katie refused to compromise. “She’s the only other family I have, Jack.”
Jack pursed his lips. “Fine. You need to find a job!”
I would if you weren’t so damn picky, she bitched to herself.
Frustrated, Katie kept trying. She interviewed with several business offices, but her computer skills weren’t strong enough. She was embarrassed to share the news with Jack.
“There’s got to be something you can do, Katie. You can’t sit around every day.”
“I’m not sitting here.” She popped off the couch as if to prove her point. “I’m applying, but nothing is working yet.”
“Have you ever thought about adding highlights to your hair?”
“What’s that have to do with a job?”
“If you fix your hair, wear a little more makeup, it might help with the interviews.”
“It’s not my hair. I don’t have many skills.”
Jack shrugged.
Confidence sagging, Katie added highlights to her light brown hair using a cheap, home-kit. She took more time with her makeup, too, playing up her eyes. It can’t hurt. She spent the next day job hunting.
“Where’d you go today?” Jack asked as soon as he walked in the door. “You put forty miles on the car.”
Katie rattled off a list of errands, a trip back home because she’d forgotten the dry cleaning, and three potential jobs.
“I asked you how you put forty miles on the car today?”
“I told you.”
“No. You gave some flimsy excuses.” He pulled her chair closer with her still sitting in it, putting them nose to nose.
Katie sat very still and looked straight ahead. She forced herself to use a soft, calm voice, “They’re not excuses. I swear. I was just running errands.”
Jack leaned in close. “Are you seeing someone?” Spittle flew.
Katie wiped her face. “No! I was right here.”
Jack’s face flushed, and he shoved the chair back, toppling her onto the floor. Katie held the back of her head in shock.
He glared down at her and then came to his senses. Dropping to his knees, he cradled Katie, stroking her hair. “Oh, my God! I didn’t mean to do that. Are you all right?”
Katie looked at Jack out of the corner of her eye. I’ve made a mistake.
Feeling a lump under his fingers, Jack rushed to get an icepack, pressing it to her head. “I’m so stressed out. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know you’re trying. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He kissed her head, her eyes, her nose. “We move into the house next week. It’ll get better. This will never happen again, I promise.”
She needed to believe him, needed to believe she wasn’t re-living her parent’s life, needed to believe he loved her. She nodded once, not trusting herself to speak.
Which allowed Jack to get in the last word, “Thirty miles or less a day on your car, would help a lot.”
Once they moved, Katie’s was optimistic their home life would improve. She loved the old house with all its nooks and crannies. It didn’t matter to her that it was outdated, choosing to see its character and charm instead. She knew she and Jack would bring it back to its grand self.
In the interim, she hung the pictures from her apartment, laid out colorful rungs, and placed her knickknacks. It wasn't much, but the additions made it feel like home. She was particularly pleased with how their bedroom had turned out. Photo frames and trinket boxes were artfully displayed here and there. An overstuffed chair and her Grammie’s pie-crust table filled one large cor
ner. Katie added the amber candlestick and felt it was just the right touch.
Even Jack commented when he walked past, "Wow, That looks great, hon. The light from the windows makes the whole candlestick glow."
"Yep," Katie agreed. "Things are looking pretty good around here. Now we can plan our party!”
“Party? What party?”
“You said we’d have a reception once we moved into the house.”
“We don’t have the money, especially with you not working. Maybe next month.”
She suspected, from his dismissive tone, there would never be a party. “Well, when am I going to meet your parents.” He didn’t commit on that front either. And just like that, their shared moment was gone.
In between searching for jobs, Katie used her excess time and energy to scrub the old house until it gleamed. She bought clearance paint and tackled the office and dining room, determined to make the rooms brighter. YouTube videos explained how to repair plaster and strip wallpaper, and Katie eagerly followed instructions.
“God!” Jack said in disgust, coming in from work, and stepping over buckets and tools. “You’re a mess.” He sneered at her hair up in a clip, joint compound smeared on her arms. “Did you even look for a job today? You should take better care of yourself.” He frowned and walked away.
Katie’s face turned red, and she ran to scrub herself clean. When she came downstairs nicely dressed and wearing make-up, Jack smiled. “Now, that’s the girl I married.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “I love the lipstick. You should wear it more often.” He then invited her to take a walk with him through the neighborhood. He held her hand, waved to neighbors, and was more his congenial self.
Katie much preferred this Jack to the one who complained and insulted. She learned to clean up before he got home—exactly what he’d wanted.
During those first two months, Jack squeezed every paycheck until he had enough money to upgrade the outdated electrical system and add a security system.
“Cameras? We can’t have a wedding reception, and I can’t call my friends, but we can put in security?” Katie couldn’t believe it and followed Jack from room to room. “Jesus! You’ve got cameras in every room.”
“We live in the most desirable neighborhood in Savannah. I want us safe. I make the money. I decide,” Jack roared.
Katie stepped back from his temper, keeping her own anger in check until she saw the master bathroom. “In the bathroom? You’ve got to be frickin’ kidding me! I’m not peeing on camera!” She fisted her hands on her hips. “This is bullshit, Jack!”
Jack was watching the installation, too, infinitely pleased with the progress. “We’re not aiming it at the toilet, for God’s sake. Anybody could climb the tree outside and get inside.” He gestured to a tiny stained glass window over the tub.
“That’s ludicrous. Neighbors would notice before anyone got inside.”
“Not in the back.” Jack strode to the window and cranked it open. “Look. Two big oak trees right here by the house.”
Katie peeked out on their little closed-in yard. She acknowledged the trees were large and climbable. They shielded the back of the house, and while Katie still thought it was paranoid, she tentatively agreed with Jack’s logic. “I guess I can see your point.”
Standing underneath the soon-to-be-installed camera, Katie took in the angle. The toilet was private, but the glassed-in shower was clearly visible. She made a note to buy a curtain as soon as possible.
“Who’s gonna track all this stuff?” Katie asked.
“There’s software with this set-up. I can see the camera feeds on the computer downstairs, or on my phone. It’s a safety thing, Katie. I’m trying to protect what’s mine.”
“Ours,” Katie corrected. “You mean you’re protecting what’s ours.”
“That’s what I said,” Jack answered. He turned toward her with a slight tick below his left eye. “There’s no need to have some stranger watch us eating dinner or making love.” He said it loud enough to make the technician turn around.
Mortified, Katie ran out of the room.
Jack gave a satisfied smile.
After the installation, Katie draped towels over the cameras in the bathroom and bedroom, sparking another argument.
“Damnit, Katie! The whole point is to be able to see the house and what’s going on!”
“It’s just me in here! What’s the issue?”
“It’s to protect you from anyone when you’re here alone!”
“I cannot stay here,” Katie huffed.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, this isn’t what I signed up for, Jack. Watching my damn miles, checking my phone, the stupid camera’s, giving me crap about working, my hair, my clothes, everything!” She spun around to face him. “I’m not something you own.” She pulled out a suitcase, throwing clothes into the bag.
Jack came over and dumped it all out. “Stop. You’re not leaving.”
“The hell I’m not.” She re-gathered the clothing.
‘I’ve never lived with anyone before and neither have you. We’re both learning and need to work at this.” He pulled her close, stroking her back. “Where would you go?”
It was a good question, and Katie didn’t have an immediate answer.
“Don’t leave,” Jack said quietly, looking down into her face. “I need you.”
Katie hesitated.
He made sweet love to her, showering her with affection. Flowers arrived the next day, and Katie decided Jack was right. We just need to try harder.
Chapter 9
As the new year rolled into place, Katie found a job at a daycare center and came home full of stories. “The kids are so stinking cute! The things they say are hysterical.” She launched into yet another example.
As the weeks passed, Jack grew to hate her job. As Katie sat laughing about an incident in the boy’s bathroom, Jack cut her off, “Taking care of kids isn’t exactly tough, is it? You should try my job sometime. There’s nothing ‘stinking cute’ about planning a city.”
Katie leaned back in her chair. “Wow, Jack. Who said it had to be a competition?”
“There is no comparison. That’s the point.” He didn’t talk to her for the rest of the night.
The next day, he grumbled further, “You never ever ask about my day anymore.” He slammed away from the table and made a drink.
The drinking had increased since she started working, which made Katie nervous. She found ways to make Jack feel important and downplayed her job, concentrating on him and complimenting his every achievement.
It didn’t matter. He just turned his focus elsewhere, “You never dress up for me anymore.”
Embarrassed, Katie fiddled with her clothes. “What’s wrong with this skirt?”
“It’s old-fashioned. You’re young, show off those long beautiful legs.” He squeezed her thigh too hard.
Choosing sexier clothes backfired too. “I bet all those dads coming in and out like you, huh? All looking for a little something on the side,” he accused.
Katie naturally denied such a thing was possible and showered Jack with compliments. He checked her phone more often, not even trying to hide the fact that he scrolled through messages and calls.
What am I doing wrong? She asked herself daily.
Weeks later, Katie was in the bedroom closet. They were close to completing their first do-it-yourself project and were headed out to dinner to celebrate. They’d renovated an upstairs laundry room and converted it to a new walk-in closet in the master bedroom. Katie stepped over screwdrivers and a caulking gun to go through her clothes one more time. “Jack?” She slid hangers across the fancy new pole and called his name again, “Jack? Have you seen my black skirt?”
“I threw it away.”
She stepped out of the closet. “You what?”
“I threw it away.” He sat on the bed, putting on his socks.
“Why?”
“I told you it wa
s too long. It made you look like an old lady.”
Katie stared at him in disbelief. “That was mine. You have no right…”
“I have every right to want my wife to look nice when we go out. You weren’t listening, so I took care of it.” Straightening the second sock, Jack stood and opened a dresser drawer. “I did, however, buy you a new one.” He pulled out a bag and held up less than a yard of material. “You can wear it tonight.”
She chose black slacks instead, defying him. He punished her by not speaking one word at dinner other than to order his meal.
The next day, Jack drove by the daycare building during his lunch break. He mentioned it during dinner. “Who was the man you were talking to near the swings today?”
The unexpected question left her floundering. “You were at school today? Why didn’t you come inside?”
Jack glared, and repeated his question, “So, who was that man?”
“It was a dad, Jack--picking up his daughter. You could have asked me today. At the school,” she said pointedly. “It would have been better than starting a useless argument at dinner.”
Jack swiped his dishes from the table, leaving them in a heap on the floor.
Katie whispered to herself as she cleaned up the mess, “There was a crooked man, who walked a crooked mile…” I can’t do this. I need to leave.
Before doing so, she tested a theory. The next morning, she parked her car at a nearby grocery store and walked to the preschool. Within an hour, Jack came roaring into the building, demanding to see Kathryn Werner.
Katie met him outside. “Is everything okay?”
“Why is your car at the Kroger? What the fuck is going on?”
Wide-eyed and seemingly innocent, Katie explained, “I stopped for donuts and decided to walk. It’s a beautiful day. I planned to grab a few groceries after work. I’ll get my car then. Is there a problem?” She forced herself to use a concerned tone, despite the fact she was raging inside. He’s tracking my car!
“It was a stupid thing to do, Katie.” Jack stomped off and moved her car to the preschool parking lot. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said as he peeled away.
There Was a Crooked Man: A Psychological Thriller Page 4