Written in the Sand

by Marie , J

  Mama had said I was too young, that I could do better for myself. But like any young woman in love, I was an idiot. That’s probably the worst part of this whole situation. She told me he wasn’t right and I didn’t believe her. My pride was hurt but so was everything else. I was broken.

  We’d gotten married quickly after that meeting. Andrew had moved us to the city where the rest of his family lived. I thought he’d wanted to marry me because he truly loved me and he had those first two years. But now that I think back over the last year we were together it had always been more about control than love. He’d wanted to own me. But it wasn’t until that fateful night that his true colors had shown.

  Look where that naivety got me.

  “Hurry up. I refuse to be late on your account.” Andrew yelled up the stairs.

  “I’m almost done, I’ll be down in a couple minutes. I want to look nice for you, Andrew. We have time,” I yelled back. I finished putting my hair into a bun on my head, curled my eyelashes, and applied some lip gloss. I slipped my favorite dress up my body and looked at myself in the mirror. I loved how this simple black dress always made me feel comfortable, especially around Andrew’s work friends. I’d zip it up and the mess my life had become was stuck inside it, not to be revealed to anyone for the night. I was the perfect wife, the show up and look good on his arm, wife. Never speaking, always smiling. That’s what he wanted from me.

  I rushed down the stairs ready to go.

  “Is that really what you’re wearing?” I looked down at myself, confused.

  “Yes, I think I look nice in this dress…”

  “Well, I think it looks like shit. Why don’t you go back up and put on the red dress I bought for you last month that you haven’t worn yet? It’s sexy.”

  I bit my lip, nervously. “That dress makes me uncomfortable, Andrew, and it doesn’t look good on me.”

  He huffed, not even looking at me, “It figures, don’t think I hadn’t noticed you gaining a few pounds since I bought you that present. I’m going to have to get that trainer to start working with you again. Another thing I’ll have to pay for, but I’ll do it because I love you.”

  I cringed. Every single I love you lately had been attached to an attack on my looks. I’ll find you a new hair stylist because this one isn’t working out. I’ll get you a new trainer because it’s clear you’ve gained some weight. I’ll buy you a new dress because the old ones make you look like you came from the back woods. He wasn’t doing it because he loved me. He was doing it because he thought I looked bad in front of his friends.

  “I don’t want to change.” This statement held more than one meaning.

  Anger radiated from his face, “Fine, don’t change. But know I’ll be the man others pity for having a plain, dull wife. I don’t have time to wait for you to take another twenty minutes to get ready. You stay behind me and don’t make a spectacle of yourself in front of my coworkers.”

  We pulled up to the gates and they opened, automatically allowing us entrance to the monstrosity of the house where Andrew’s boss lived. Dinner parties were a part of life for us and I hated them. The fanfare, the fake-ness, the upper echelon of society. Andrew stopped the car and got out, leaving me to open my own door and follow him. He handed the valet the keys and told him not to damage the car before turning and walking off.

  I watched the valet run around the car, get in, and speed off. For a second, I wished it was me running away from this stuffy place, but I wasn’t that lucky. I must have been dwindling too long.

  “Cassidy, are you coming?” I turned to see an irritated Andrew looking back at me.

  “Yes, sorry.”

  He waved to me, “Come on, we don’t have all day and we’re already late.”

  I caught up to where he waited, and he held out his hand. Appearances, right? I took it lightly and put on my smile, that’s what a perfect wife does. Never let them see you cry. Something I’d found myself saying a lot these days. The front door opened, and we were welcomed inside. The grandiosity of the foyer wasn’t lost on me. I could stand there for hours and never capture every single inch of it.

  “Andrew, Cassidy, glad you could make it,” I heard the booming voice of Andrew’s boss behind me. We turned as he walked up, patting Andrew on the shoulder and I smiled my typical smile while affectionately looking at my husband, and not the other man. Never look at another man in my presence. Eyes down. That was the warning I received at the last party. It made me feel like I was dying inside being that fake, but I knew I’d hear about it if I wasn’t acting like his perfect image.

  Andrew spoke up first. “Thomas, thank you for inviting us. Has the Rizzo family arrived yet?”

  “Dominic and Isabella showed up about ten minutes before you did. Let’s head to the sitting room. I think I saw them walk that way,” in a lower voice I heard Thomas whisper, “and Andrew, show nothing but respect and gratitude to Dominic since he had the cops make our little problem disappear. Open, shut, and no questions. Keep him happy.”

  Good God, I didn’t want to know what they had done. The maids grabbed our coats and I followed dutifully along behind Andrew and Thomas. Being seen but not heard. God, I missed the Andrew I first met years ago.

  We entered the sitting room and my eyes roamed over the groups of people gathered. Some smiled, most scoffed. Andrew plastered on his business smile as we approached a couple standing with his brother, Devin. His smarmy smile made a chill skitter up and down my arms. Devin was worse than his brother and one you shouldn’t ever cross. I’d heard tales of him making alliances with an Italian mob in town, so the fact that he was now standing with Dominic and Isabella Rizzo made my skin crawl.

  “Dominic, glad you could join us tonight? How are things?” He reached out and shook the hand of the dark haired tall man across from us. The man smiled back at us, but there was a hint of distrust in his eyes.

  He moved past Andrew to me, “And pray tell, who is this lovely creature?”

  “Hi, I’m Cassidy, Andrew’s wife… It’s nice to meet you.” I felt the need to curtsy under his stare, but I refrained.

  “Cassidy, what did I tell you?” Andrew almost unnoticeably pinched my arm in admonishment and I tried not to roll my eyes at his haughty tone. I hated it when he talked down to me like I was worthless.

  Dominic smiled softly at me and returned his glare to Andrew. “Chi incontra buona moglie ha gran fortuna.”

  “I’m sorry Mr. Rizzo, I don’t speak Italian,” Andrew stammered out.

  “It roughly translates to behind every great man there is a great woman. I see a great woman before me, signora, but I have not decided on the man. Business is an extension of family. I only wonder how well you treat yours?”

  A look of shock covered Andrew’s face. “My family is well taken care of, I can assure you. My parents live in the city and we can have dinner at any time.”

  “Very well. I am thirsty. Might you get us some champagne?”

  “Cassidy, you heard the man. Two champagnes.”

  “You misunderstood. I want you to get the refreshments while I stay and chat with your wife? Do you object?”

  “Of course not. I’ll be right back,” Andrew gave me a look that said so many nasty things. I would pay for this later, and I hadn’t said a thing. Getting him drunk was my best chance. After he walked off Mr. Rizzo turned to me.

  “You remind me greatly of my mama. My father was a cold man who believed women, like children, should be seen and not heard. Because of his prejudice he did not see more than her beautiful face, and he definitely did not see the knife behind her back when she could no longer stand the sight or touch of him. I think all men should keep that in mind, don’t you?”

  I only nodded in reply, and he smiled.

  Andrew returned with no knowledge of the strange conversation that just took place. Without a word, Mr. Rizzo took his champagne, bowed his head to me, and walked off.

  “What the Hell did he want with you?” Andrew yanked my
arm and pulled me into a nearby office.

  “Nothing, he just asked if you would be good for his company,” I quickly lied.

  “And …”

  “I said you would be the best! Honest, that’s all. He said I had an honest face and would tell him the truth.”

  “Good. Maybe your simpleton smile just worked in my favor. Stay here while I go and try to smooth things out.” I stayed in the office as instructed. I prefered it. I hated being around these people and I know whatever ass kissing tactic Andrew took would make me cringe. I’d been looking at the books lined up in order on the bookshelf when I felt the air in the room shift.

  “Well, if it isn’t my dear sister in law, Cassidy Mae. Here all alone…Forgive me Cassidy. I forget Andrew hates the Mae.” His voice had an edge today and I wondered if it was from the alcohol they’d been pouring by the glass.

  “What do you want, Devin?” The agitation was rich in my voice. He always acted this way.

  He stepped up behind me, lifted the hair from my neck inhaling the perfume I’d sprayed there earlier tonight, and whispered. “I have a proposition for you.”

  I scoffed. “I’m not interested.”

  “But you haven’t even heard my idea yet.” He ran a cold finger down my arm and I tried not to flinch. “I think you should let Andrew and I share- you. I’d love to know what my brother sees in you. It’s certainly not the accent or your looks, so it must be a magical pussy. I would love to have just a taste of it.” I was uncomfortable and the urge to scream and tell him to get the hell away from me ran through every crevice of my body, but I couldn’t. I was the good and perfect wife, you didn’t yell. You didn’t tell anyone that there was something wrong. You lied when people were mean.

  “Go away, Devin.”

  “Aww, Cassidy, I’d at least try and make it good for you. I do enjoy being the better man. Can’t say the same for my brother. If you’re worried about Andrew, he probably won’t even mind if I had a go alone with you. Have you seen the way he’s been staring at Isabella since you got here?”

  Although I haven’t been here in a year, the road was still familiar. As I pulled into town, it was like stepping back into my childhood.

  Welcome back to small town West Virginia.

  The road to my parent’s house skirts the outside of town. From what I can tell, Moonshine Springs looks much the same as I remember with the addition of a new traffic light on Willow Lane and Main Street. Our town never did have much to offer. The cell reception sucked. There were only two bed and breakfasts.

  The one redeeming factor, the springs.

  Moonshine Springs.

  Tourists had come in and discovered them throughout this little town over the years and came back seemingly every year since to enjoy them. Every summer business boomed with the hustle and bustle. As far as I could tell though, it still had that same backwoods charm it always had. A small town where people waved to you when you drove down the street and hugged you on the sidewalk. A town where everyone knew everyone which also meant that your business was always up for public debate.

  Mama and Papa lived about five minutes outside town. This road is the same curvy death trap that I learned to drive on all those years ago. As I drove the rhythm of the swerves and curves came back to me like riding a bike.

  I turned onto the old gravel road and the car bounced down the long drive kicking up dust until my childhood house came into view. It’s a small house, a little more worn than I remember, but just as quaint. The wood shingles are even more weathered and the wrap-around porch has seen better days. Paint was chipping off the sides and hanging in jagged edges. A grin formed across my face at the sight of my parents. Each in their own rocking chair on the front porch, just like they always were. Momma with her yarn and needles, Papa with his newspaper. To some it may seem simple, but to my parents it was a way of life. They were never caught up in the latest gossip or attached to their phones, not like what you saw when you walked through any city these days.

  I pulled up to the house and slowly climbed out.

  “Hey Mama, Papa.” I say, trying to hide the tremor in my bottom lip. It’d been far too long since I’d seen my parents and it wasn’t until that very minute that I realized just how much I missed them. Mama’s voice was like coming home after you’ve been to war and I felt like I had. Living with Andrew had been warfare. Mental warfare.

  I still can’t believe I’d actually stood up for myself and asked for a divorce. It was one thing that just seemed right when every other single thing seemed wrong. I tried to hide the frown line that marred my face as I thought back to that night just a week ago.

  “Well look what the cat dragged in.” Mama smiled at me. A small smile that I’d missed way too much. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Come on over here and give your mama a hug.” She looked the same except for a few new grey hairs and frown lines. She still wore a ragged pair of blue jeans and a tee shirt.

  She got up out of her rocker and walked over to me as I climbed those front porch steps that creaked with each carefully placed step.

  I was fragile right now, an emotional basket case. Witnessing what I had seen would give anyone the creeps. I’d put on makeup today to hide my puffy eyes from all the crying I’d done. If he was dead like I believed he was, he would no longer be my husband on paper. In my heart he hadn’t been that for over a year. I’d gotten the papers drawn up and given them to him, but he hadn’t signed as far as I knew. At the end of the day though, he was still a person that I cared about. Yes, he was a shitty husband. He took more than he gave, but I was human. I had a heart and seeing someone like that would forever be burned into my brain.

  I paused before looking over at Papa. The one person I’d always looked up to. He was a proud man and he loved his family something fierce. He’d never admit it, but the look in his eyes told me that he knew something bad had happened. He looked older than the last time I saw him, and he still wore those goofy old overalls and a white tee shirt. My parents had the typical country bumpkin look down pat, a vast difference to the lifestyle I’d been living with Andrew, but they were still my parents and I loved them very much.

  Andrew had allowed me to come the first two years we were married, but since the accident he’d said no, so I’d stayed away. A phone call to catch up every once in a while, but I’d had to wait until Andrew was at work or a function to do so. I isolated myself so much that I wasn’t even sure they’d let me stay. I felt ashamed that I’d come running back to them, but I had nowhere else to go.

  “Hey Papa,” I said softly.

  His voice was gruff as he spoke, “Did you stop anywhere on the way into town?”

  “No, y’all were the first people I wanted to see.” I didn’t want to tell them that I didn’t want to see anyone else. That I didn’t even want to be here in the first place, because that would crush them.

  “It’s been a year since we’ve seen your pretty face in these parts. We were planning on coming in to see you since it’d been so long. We’ve been so worried about you lately. Is it Andrew? Has he done something to you? I always knew that boy was nothing but bad news.” Agitation was rich in his voice.

  I leaned into him, tears falling down my cheeks. No matter how long I’d been away, I was still his little girl the moment I saw him again.

  “It’s okay, baby girl,” he said soothingly as he rubbed my back. “Alrighty, well look, why don’t we go get your stuff from the car and get you unpacked? How long do you think you’ll be staying?” He pulled back and looked at me, concern etched across the features of his aging, wrinkled face. “It’s good to see you. I don’t know why you’re here but I’m sure you’ll tell us in due time.” Papa gave me a small smile. I’d missed seeing those kind, all-knowing eyes. He shook his head when I went to respond. He wasn’t going to make me purge my demons just yet and for that I was grateful.

  My parents weren’t ever ones to give me the “I told you so,” look. It didn’t mean I’d be comfortabl
e enough to tell them that they were right about everything.

  Papa followed me down to my car. Well, I guess it wasn’t technically mine anymore. Or ever. According to Andrew, everything we owned was his because he’d paid for it. And he made damn sure that I knew every single time I suggested otherwise. As far as I was concerned you had to be alive to own something. And seeing as how I couldn’t see him being alive after what they’d done, he wouldn’t have a choice.

  Something changed that afternoon, a shift in the wind. A song on the breeze. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, the only thing I knew is that it wasn’t exactly a bad thing.

  I’d spent the afternoon mucking stalls and working with the newest horse to come in. They’d called him Zeus, which was appropriate. One Greek god of a Fresian horse to rule them all. Darker than the darkest onyx you could imagine.

  A black mane that hung in strands of soft, silky tangles. Eyes quiet but pensive. Black feather-like hair lined his feet and the grace with which he moved could bring a person to tears with just one hoofbeat across the Earth. Around the corral he ran, all snort and flair. Power and beauty. Magnificence and grace. Twelve hundred pounds of something that could crush you with one simple blow to the skull.

  I loved these animals, something completely wild that had been brought to domestication. They’d become partners as opposed to prey and hunter. America was built on the backs of these brave, incredible creatures. Creatures that went to battle for us at one simple command.

  One simple request.

  A squeeze.

  A kick.

  A smooch.

  The more time I spent with him, the more I realized that Zeus had a broken soul and was very untrusting of people. I had been told by the rescue a little about what had happened and I couldn’t believe that a human could do that to another living creature.