Indian Summer

by Eve L Mitchell

  I started for the door before pulling myself up short. No, she wouldn’t have left. She would never let anyone see her like that who wasn’t my dad or me. God forbid someone talk about her negatively. I stilled to hear any movements. Panic flared in me. She had been so drunk – what if she had fallen asleep and choked on her own vomit? I flew down the stairs and stopped short at the kitchen.

  A sense of dread came over me. The kitchen was dark, but even so I could make out the shape of her slumped at the table. She had fallen forward. Chances were that if she had been sick, she would be lying in it rather than choking on it. I made to take a step backward – dad would find her and I wouldn’t have to deal with it – when a horrible sense of foreboding overcame me. I couldn’t move. I almost stopped breathing.

  I reached for the light. My hand slipped it and missed. Was I sweating? Why were my hands so slippery? I flipped the switch with my second attempt. Then I think I screamed, if not out loud then certainly in my head. There was blood everywhere – I slipped and fell in it as I raced across the room to her. I scrambled to my knees, panic and horror pushing me onwards. I was crying again.

  I checked for a pulse – my hands were slippery with blood as well as sweat. I reached for the house phone; I needed to call for help. Then I saw her eyes, open and staring at me, dead. She was really dead.

  Even in death I could feel the hate emanating from her.

  I looked at the phone, at the state of the kitchen. My hands were shaking so badly. I didn’t know what to do. I called the only number I could think of.

  “Hello.”

  The voice was deeper than I expected. “Connor?” I whispered. My throat was so dry. I sounded weird.

  “Ari? Arielle are you ok? It’s Cole. Ari, tell me what’s wrong.” He sounded slightly panicked which didn’t help. Cole never panicked.

  “I killed my mother, Colton.” The finality was too much for me, I dropped the phone as I fell, darkness carried me away.

  I came around to the sound of voices. There were a lot of people in my kitchen. Someone was holding me, someone strong. I remembered I was covered in blood; I couldn’t get blood on anyone else. I tried to pull away.

  “Shhh Lil Bit, I’ve got you.” It was Colton. Of course it was. Everyone else in the room grew quiet. I looked up. There were police officers, my dad, Connor and Matt. My mother’s body had a sheet over it.

  “Elle baby, it’s me, can you tell me what happened?” My dad was in front of me. He looked as if he had aged 20 years since I had least seen him only hours before. His eyes were red and I knew he had been crying.

  “Daddy? She’s dead?” I whispered. His eyes had filled with tears and he nodded. It wasn’t a horrific nightmare – I’d wished her dead; my wish had come true.

  I buried my head into Colton’s shoulder and a sob ripped out of me. He rubbed my back as another sob escaped me.

  “Shhh – I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he whispered. I leaned into him more, relaxing a little bit as my arms tightened around his neck. I burrowed my face into the crook of his neck. Cole had me, I’d be ok, nothing bad could happen, Cole had me. Treacherous slut.

  I heard her words whisper in my head and I jerked back.

  I looked at Cole and tried to get off his lap. My dad called my name again and I turned to look at him.

  “What happened here honey,” he asked me.

  “It was me...” I started to say. I heard the gasps – saw my father recoil.

  Cole stiffened before saying, “It was Elle that found her like this. Can’t we let her get cleaned up and the body moved before we do this?” His strong voice and controlled manner were so welcome just now.

  “Coroner has to get here and we need to examine the witness for evidence,” someone said.

  “Her name’s Arielle. Not witness and not suspect,” Connor growled. He had moved forward and put his hand on my shoulder. I didn’t feel comforted by his touch. I shied away, burrowing further into Colton.

  “That may be, Mr Dawson, but she has blood all over her and she’s the best person to tell us what’s what. We need to know if it’s her blood too. Looks like a war zone in here and I need answers before anyone moves. God knows you’ve all contaminated enough of my crime scene already.” He turned and crouched down beside me. “Now Elle, is it?” A nod from Cole must have confirmed this – I know I hadn’t moved. “I’m Detective Richards. I understand you’ve been through a lot tonight, but I’m hoping you can you talk me through what happened here. Can you stand? We can move to the dining room if you like – I noticed the floors tiled in there so there’s no carpet to mess up.” I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to appease me or not.

  I nodded. I needed away from her. From this room and all these eyes. I stood and gasped as pain shot through my feet. Colton scooped me back into his arms before anyone moved. My dad looked at the soles of my feet.

  “They’re all cut up,” he said, wincing.

  I didn’t remember taking my boots off when I had gone to my room, but I must have, since I had done a fair job of shredding my feet on the debris that was scattered across the kitchen floor.

  Cole carried me to the dining room. I caught Connor’s frown and saw Matt hold him back when he went to take a step forward.

  The officers followed us. I started to panic. “Um, just you and my dad, please?” I asked. The detective frowned, paused and nodded. He motioned to one other officer.

  “I’ll just need someone else in the room to record your statement, Elle. Just in case we need it later. Ok?” I was pretty out of it, but I think even I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  Colton sat me on a dining room chair before pulling a second chair out for himself and sitting beside me. My dad and the two officers looked at him. He stared straight back. I realised what was happening and I clutched for his hand. “Can he stay?”

  I thought the officer would argue. I tensed, but I must have looked so pathetic because his eyes softened and he nodded. I let out a relieved sigh.

  “Ok, Elle, can you tell me what happened?” Detective Richards asked.

  I did. I left nothing out.

  I heard my dad sob when I related the words, she had said to me about my Aunt. I heard Colton curse when I told them she knocked me over with the bottle. There was blood on my head where she’d split it open. The other officer was sent to get a paramedic to assess if I needed stitches. I did – my matted hair was acting as a bandage for the moment, but it wasn’t doing the best job, plus my feet needed to be treated. I was to be taken to the hospital when I finished my story.

  I felt Cole stiffen when I told them what she had said about the two of us. I was ashamed, but I forged ahead – it all had to come out. I couldn’t have that poison in my head. I saw the speculative look in the officer’s eyes as he quickly flicked his gaze to my hand clasped tightly in Cole’s. I told them the last words I had said to her. I hope you go soon, so we can finally be free. There wasn’t a sound in the dining room. I told them I went upstairs and that I cried. I told them I must have dozed off but that I came back down. I told them I’d thought she may have choked on hew own vomit. I told them I slipped on her blood. She was already dead. I told them I called Connor. I told them I thought I’d blacked out.

  “Why didn’t you call the police, Elle?” Detective Richards asked. I looked at him. I was so exhausted, but it was like I was seeing him for the first time. He was handsome. A bit weathered and maybe a tad rough around the edges, but his eyes were kind. I trusted him.

  “Elle, why didn’t you call the police?” he asked again. It was like it was important. I answered honestly.

  “I panicked,” I replied simply. “I called Connor.”

  Not long after, I was taken to the hospital. I got 5 stitches in my head. My feet were treated, balmed and bandaged. After all my visible injuries had been tended to, the doctor told me that what I’d thought had been sleep had more than likely been a series of rapid blackouts. I was to be kept for observation in case I had a concuss
ion. My dad seemed anxious. I didn’t protest. I didn’t want to return to the house anyway. My dad bought me pyjamas from the hospital gift shop; he wouldn’t leave me to go home. They were too big and had fluffy clouds on them. On another day it would have been funny.

  Connor and Matt stayed out in the waiting room. Colton didn’t leave my side for the simple reason that I had a Vulcan death grip on his hand. I wouldn’t let go.

  The police came to tell my dad that I hadn’t killed my mother; they were ruling it as an accidental death. She had apparently taken one of the broken glasses and slit her left wrist with it. Not both. They thought perhaps she was trying to scare me and had cut too deep. They suspected that she hadn’t thought I would pass out from the blow to the head.

  She hadn’t thought.

  Selfish bitch to the end.

  We buried my mother on a Wednesday. I had been all for cremation. I figured she was burning in hell anyway. My dad didn’t like it when I said things like that and would look at me in disappointment. We were in the Dawson’s mansion. I had refused to go home. Jake Dawson had actually offered his home for my recuperation. It was almost as if he had sympathy for my dad. His wife – Connor and Colton’s mother – had passed away from cancer when the boys were little and it seems he could relate to suddenly losing your spouse.

  I snorted as he stood there in his perfect suit in my hospital room. His show of grief and sympathy felt too over-the-top. Fake. He ignored me. My dad apologised for my manners. I’d lost a parent, after all, even if she’d never actually been one. Dawson Senior’s heart hadn’t melted any towards me. He only seemed concerned for my dad. I didn’t really care what he thought of me – maybe that’s why he disliked me so much.

  My dad was worried about money costs, I knew it and he knew I knew it, even if he wasn’t talking about it. I knew the fact that he would be saving money by not going to a hotel – which is where I was insisting we go – was swaying him. He was worried about the situation with Connor though, despite both mine and Colton’s assurances that Connor would behave. My dad had looked at Cole with new worry in his eyes, no doubt remembering my mother’s words to me. Jake Dawson had failed to smother a snort as he glared at me. My dad relaxed slightly when Cole glared at his father and assured my dad that all Dawson men would stay out of our way.

  Now we were in the mansion. I took out my frustration by giving my dad the cold shoulder. Even the wake was to be held there. It was all very surreal. My grandparents had flown in from Scotland, destroyed at losing their only remaining child. Jake Dawson had told them they could stay at the mansion as well and I almost wished they hadn’t. However, as it turned out, everyone was in love with my grandparents and their Scottish accents. Matt was staying there too, as much for me as to help Colton, who was doing his best to keep me from saying something I might regret – about my mother, or Connor, or any of it. Matt loved my grandparents and I think the distraction of entertaining my friends helped them cope with the reality of needing to bury another daughter.

  No one would ever tell them what a hateful woman my mother had been. They said she’d struggled with depression from a young age, ever since losing her beloved sister. I’d choked on a laugh. It was suggested that I go lie down. I heard them say I was still in shock – it had been so hard for me to find my poor dead mother; I’d hurt myself when I fell and split my head open on the kitchen floor trying to help her. I was still recovering. Yeah, I’m sorry my head knocked itself out on your bottle, you bitch, I had thought as I walked away.

  The details of her death were kept to a minimum. Tragic accident. Poor woman. So sad. The rumour mill had started when it was discovered that both Colton and Connor had gone to the police station to give statements. With Connor’s erratic behaviour, people were putting 2 and 2 together and realising that things didn’t quite add up. Their father had tried to put a stop to any more of their involvement, which is when the rumours had really started multiplying. I heard the same one several times, Connor had gotten violent with me and in the aftermath of the fight, my mum was a tragic accident. She had fallen on all the stuff he had thrown and was a poor innocent victim of his rage.

  They were going to have start restraining me or else I was going to start punching people.

  I don’t know when I realised both Matt and Colton knew this. It could have been how I was never allowed to be alone with anyone – one of the two of them was always present. Or the whisper of “Ari” that meant I was close to destroying the facade. Twice, Cole had just removed me from the room with no explanation at all, a firm grip on my elbow, a muttered apology and I was out of the room.

  I didn’t really deserve the kindness. Colton never complained, not when I shrugged out of his hold in frustration and stormed up to the room they had given me, not when I woke screaming from nightmares and he would be there to calm me down, hold me and rock me back to sleep. He was silent and solid throughout.

  If he wasn’t there, Matt was my shadow. Connor had tried to be there for me too, but our own situation made it too difficult. To his credit, he stopped trying once it became clear that I didn’t want him to comfort me. I was broken inside – broken, cold and empty. I felt nothing. I wouldn’t talk to my dad and the only time I felt anything was the dread in the pit of my stomach when I met Jake Dawson’s glare. Thankfully, Jake did his best to avoid me and I made sure to stay away from him.

  When service was over, we all came back to the mansion, where a funeral tea had been prepared. There were a lot of people there; I was numb. I floated about, smiling vacantly as people squeezed my hands, telling me how sorry they were. My Gran had been crying softly into a hankie as she spoke to some lady who looked kind. The lady looked at me and smiled. I smiled back. It felt almost genuine.

  Someone else spoke to me and I turned to see Mrs. Ballot, the other librarian at school – I think she told me my mother would be missed. I doubted it; she was a terrible librarian and had hated her job. When Mrs Ballot said my mother was a wonderful woman, I snorted in disbelief and rolled my eyes. I may even have muttered, “Yeah right.”

  The hand was on my elbow within seconds. I didn’t even look as I was guided from the reception room and herded towards the staircase. Time to put the crazy chick back in the pen, I thought to myself chuckling. I heard a sharp curse. “Hold it together ‘til we are upstairs.” For some reason that made me laugh harder. The grip on my elbow grew firmer. I was close to losing control and potentially an elbow. Another snort of laughter from me, another exasperated sigh from Colton.

  “Really Colton, again with this?” The voice was cold, distant and slightly exasperated. Wonderful, daddy dearest had arrived for his son; make sure the crazy girl wasn’t rubbing off on him.

  “I’m just taking her upstairs, she needs to lie down,” Cole replied, turning to address his dad from the stairs.

  “No I don’t,” I piped up. Ok, I was definitely going to bruise if he didn’t let go of me soon.

  “Yes, you do. Matt?” He called. “Come take Ari upstairs, she needs to lie down. I need a word with my dad.” I was handed over to Matt who didn’t grab me or guide me but let me walk unaided up the stairs. It felt ok to go unaided, but I wasn’t steady – sooner than I would have liked, Matt had a steadying hand on my back.

  When I got into the room, I kicked off my black heels and sat on the bed. I was wearing a formal black knee length dress – it was plain but had a nice loose skirt that swished when I walked and meant I didn’t feel constricted. I’d been reprimanded already for swishing the skirt too much. Matt dropped onto a chair. He looked at me. I looked back.

  “You doing ok Ari?” He looked good – tired, but good. A dark suit, crisp white shirt and a black tie that looked like he had just started to take it off before his mother no doubt had caught him. A smile played on my lips.

  “Your family here?”

  “Yeah, they’re downstairs with Theo’s folks.”

  “Theo’s here?” Had I seen him? I couldn’t remember.

&n
bsp; “Yeah, you spoke to him earlier. You sure you’re doing ok Bit?”

  I nodded absently. I’d spoken to Theo and couldn’t remember. That was slightly scary. What had I said?

  “Does he know all of it?” I asked.

  Matt nodded.

  I asked the question I was dreading. “Do you know all of it?”

  Matt knew what I meant. Again, he nodded. “Cole told me not long after.”

  I got up from the bed and went to the window. I looked out over the immaculate gardens. “Did he tell Connor?”

  Matt hadn’t moved from the chair. “No Lil Bit, he thought it best not to.”

  My shoulders sagged with relief; I turned to look at him, my friend Matt. My solid friend Matt. “Was she right?”

  Matt looked uncomfortable, his hand going to the tie again and yanking it off. He sighed long and loud. He looked at me when I said his name again, the question hanging between us.

  “I don’t know,” he said simply.

  I didn’t feel any better. That wasn’t an answer; at least it wasn’t the answer I wanted.

  “Don’t know what?” Colton asked from the doorway. Matt jumped like he was guilty of something and I turned back to the window, shutting them both out. I didn’t want to look at him. Her words were racing through my head, causing new wounds, new doubts, new fears.

  “I asked Matt if what my mother said about me and you was true.” I was trying to be detached, cold, like a Dawson. There was silence. I thought they had left me, so I turned around and watched as Cole closed the door behind Matt, which left us alone. He turned to me, those piercing green eyes bright with what...anger? He marched over to me, grabbed my arm and shook me.

  “Let me go!” I snapped. I shook free of him. I was livid. I had felt nothing for days and now I was absolutely furious. It was like the dam had burst. I was sick of it. Sick of him always there, always controlling me. I was done with it. He was trying to control me the same way Connor had.