The Mother-in-Law

by Modglin, Kiersten

  “I need you to come, Jack, please. I need you to take me to my home.”

  “You are home,” I said, but it was no use.

  She cried. “Take me to Malcolm. I want to see Malcolm.”

  “Coralee, just…it’s okay.” I felt cool tears in my eyes and turned away from my wife. I didn’t want her to see me break, not when I was supposed to hate Coralee. “It’s okay, just calm down.”

  She was crying then, her sobs quiet and dainty, but I could hear them. “Come, Jack. Please. Please come. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t…I can’t be alone.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think. “Okay,” I said. “Okay, I’ll come. It’s going to be okay.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her voice beginning to fade. “Yes, it’ll all be…okay…”

  “Goodbye, Coralee.” It was the worst possible goodbye I could imagine, no real talking or chance to make amends.

  “Goodbye, Jack…”

  I held the phone to my ear a while longer, listening to her steady breathing. I couldn’t tell if she’d completely fallen asleep, but eventually, I had to end the call. It was too painful. I wasn’t sure how to feel about Coralee, about all that she’d done and all the pain she’d caused, but it didn’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes at the realization that this may be my last chance to see her.

  Loren approached me from behind, her soft hands wrapping around to touch my stomach. She kissed my back, resting her cheek against it.

  “We can go if you want,” she offered.

  I groaned. “It’s ridiculous. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  I felt her nod against my skin. “No. You’re right. But…maybe you deserve peace.”

  I lowered my hands to hers, squeezing them gently. Peace. It felt like a foreign concept now. Though our life had calmed considerably, I always felt like I was waiting for something to go wrong. Coralee made me feel that way.

  She didn’t deserve my forgiveness. Or my goodbye.

  She didn’t deserve any of it, yet I found myself reaching for the car keys.

  Chapter Forty

  Loren

  We drove three hours toward Coralee’s home. Jack was understandably quiet, and I wondered if he felt as nervous as I did.

  I hadn’t seen the house in years, not in person at least. Meredith had been keeping an eye on it, sending me texts occasionally to let me know it was still standing. She’d eloped with Billy, the boy she’d run away with, but we rotated going into town to check on the store until it eventually sold. When she did, she’d send me pictures of the house, though when it was my turn, I purposefully avoided it. I wanted to forget it existed. Forget Coralee existed.

  I knew from the pictures the outside hadn’t changed, but I could only imagine what she’d done to the inside. Rynlee would be in school for the next little while, so it was the perfect chance for Jack to finally get the closure he deserved, even if it pained me to do so. After today, we could walk away from our past for good.

  When we pulled up to the house, I had a lump in my throat. I was terrified. What would she say? What would she do? What would she look like? It was hard to picture her frail and bedridden like Jack seemed to think she’d be.

  We climbed from the car quietly, and Jack took my hand as we made our way to the porch. I studied his face, wishing I knew what he was thinking. His face was solemn, and I knew as hard as the day would be for me, I needed to be supportive. I’d be there however he needed me to be.

  We reached the door with a collective inhale, and Jack put his hand on the knob. We couldn’t see anything through the beveled glass, the house dark inside.

  Twist.

  Click.

  I let out my breath as he opened the door and we stepped inside. The house was nearly unrecognizable: the walls painted a light tan, the staircase held a long, patterned runner, the floors were sanded down to a light varnish, all of my modern furniture gone and replaced with antiques.

  “Mom?” Jack called into the quiet home. We ventured into the kitchen. I was shocked that my granite countertops had been replaced with green tile that ran up along the walls underneath the cabinets, which had surprisingly stayed the same. The cabinets were the only things, apparently, Coralee hadn’t bothered to replace. The home looked like I’d stepped into a time capsule of her childhood, many of the furnishings identical to what I’d seen in pictures my mother had shown me.

  We wandered up the stairs, noticing the changes weren’t limited to the bottom floor. Some changes were minor, little furnishings here or there, and some were major—the second floor ceiling was now lined with intricate artwork. It was beautiful and classical, and though I thought it was magnificently done, I couldn’t help but to be mad at the new old look. Some of it was what I had redone, but some of what she’d erased was redone by my mother, my grandmother. Pieces of our history had been erased to give Coralee a sense of herself again, who she’d once been.

  I felt her in the home, her presence heavy like a spirit, and it was incredibly obvious that even if the house were to ever become mine again, it would never feel like my own.

  We stopped at a spare bedroom, now converted to a library, and I ran my fingers along shelf after shelf—nothing from this century. It was as if Coralee had stopped living when she’d left this house, as if some huge part of her never left.

  “Bella said Mom hasn’t been able to make it up the stairs lately. I wonder where she could be,” Jack mumbled, checking the next room.

  Next, we walked across the hall toward our old bedroom. To my surprise, it was the only room that seemed untouched. Our bed, our artwork, and our clothes, were all still there. Even the carpet remained. I wondered if she’d ever stepped foot in there, other than to “borrow” my clothes the day we were supposed to show the house all those years ago, or if she’d always left it—knowing she’d return it to us one day. I pushed the thought from my mind. Jack had mentioned it, but Coralee wasn’t in her right mind. And if she was, it was a trick. She’d never give the house back to us, and if she did, I wasn’t sure I’d want it.

  Next, I checked Rynlee’s room, wondering if Coralee had left it the same as well. Instead, the room was completely different. It had been painted a creamy green, with white wooden detail along the bottom half of the wall. The curtains looked as old as the house itself. I was afraid to touch them for fear of the fabric falling to pieces. Her bed was grand, large wooden posts standing up in all four corners. The ceiling fan had been replaced with a brass chandelier that matched the dining room and foyer below. I moved toward the closet, surprised by how cold the room seemed compared to the rest of the house. When I stepped into the closet, I stopped, my eyes trying to decipher what I was seeing.

  “What the—” Jack said, seeing the discovery at the same time I did. We took a step forward, then froze.

  Beyond the closet was another room, a room I’d never seen before. The floors were wooden planks, the walls dark, patterned wallpaper and concrete, and there were shelves caving in on a far wall. None of that pulled my attention, though, not for long. Instead, my eyes locked on the center of the room, where my mother-in-law lay on the ground next to what appeared to be two dead bodies—one in a yellowing sheet with rust-colored splatters on it, the other wrapped in a black trash bag. She was dressed in a white nightgown, her graying hair splayed all around her on the floor. Was this a joke? I waited for her to pop up, to laugh in our faces at the cruel prank. When she didn’t move, I felt a cold chill run over my body, my stomach knotting up in an instant.

  I wanted to run, to bolt, but I couldn’t. My feet were planted firmly on the floor, my muscles tense. I couldn’t make myself move. Jack glanced at me, his eyes as wide with fear as mine were.

  I searched the room with my eyes, trying to find something that would make sense of what I was seeing. Finally, I caught sight of something that caused me to convulse with fear.

  “No…”

  I walked forward without Jack, toward the left side of the room, and pas
t the unmoving bodies. I should’ve been scared, but outright confusion and disbelief overshadowed the fear. I picked up the blue purse where it had been discarded in the corner, running my fingers over the purple thread.

  Eccentric and whimsical, just like her.

  “No,” I cried again, holding the purse with shaking hands. I looked toward the bodies.

  “Loren, what is it?” Jack asked, taking a cautious step toward me.

  I shoved past him, holding the purse with a tight grip, and darted out of the room and down the stairs, hot tears filling my eyes. I could hear him following close behind, calling my name. I reached the final floor and fell to my knees, pulling the purse’s contents out. Her favorite plum lipstick, seven dollars, a lighter, and her ID. I turned it over in my hands, vomit spewing from my lips and onto the floor when I saw her face. Meredith.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Coralee

  Before

  The Day of the Wedding

  Loren was the spitting image of her mother. Talking to her was the most painful thing I’d ever had to do, trying to pretend everything was okay, that I could welcome her into Jack’s life with open arms.

  It was his wedding day; I’d done what I’d set out to do. I just had to make it a bit longer, then I could finish out my plan. I walked through the bar, trying to remain unnoticed while Jack and Loren entertained, her hapless daughter teetering around between their legs.

  “Coralee?” I heard my name and spun around, surprised that anyone there would know who I was.

  The woman in front of me was tall and pale, with long, blonde hair. I smiled at her. “Sorry, do I know you?”

  She cocked her head to the side, her mouth agape. When she hugged me, she smelled of cigarettes. “It’s…it’s Meredith. Your niece. Leo’s daughter. I can’t…wow, I can’t believe you’re here. What are you doing here? It’s been what, twenty years?”

  “Thirty,” I clarified. “It’s been thirty.”

  “Yeah, since I was…like ten. That’s what I thought. It’s so great to see you. What are you doing here?” She asked the question again, looking around the room to see who’d accompanied me.

  “I, um—” I tried to think of an excuse, to piece together a reason for my sudden appearance at this wedding, but before I could, I heard Jack’s voice.

  “Mom!” I tried to ignore him, but his tone was insistent. “Mom!” He was growing closer.

  I turned to greet him. “Just a moment, Jack, can’t you see I’m talking to your guest?”

  “Right, sorry. Find me when you’re done. Hey, Meredith.” He smiled apologetically to her before bouncing back to his new bride.

  When I looked at her, her eyes were wide. “Coralee, Jack’s your son?” She tapped her glass with her forefinger.

  I nodded stiffly. “He is.”

  “Of course,” she said, her voice soft. “Now it makes sense. I knew he looked familiar. Last time I saw him, he was just a toddler.” She shook her head. “Coralee, you know that Loren is…she’s Laurel’s daughter.”

  Again, I nodded. “I do.”

  She gasped, her eyes zooming around the room to land on Loren. “You let them get married? Oh my God. How could you do that? What’s she going to think when she finds out?”

  I thought quickly. “I’m still trying to work out how to tell them. I didn’t know until he introduced me today. She’s the spitting image of her mother, but…he seems so happy.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, Loren, too. I’ve never seen her this happy.” Pause. “But, we can’t let them stay married. We have to tell them.”

  “There’s no need to tell them. Jack is my son by marriage only. This little secret can stay ours,” I told her.

  She took a step past me, shaking her head. “No. She’s my best friend. Related only by marriage or not, she deserves to know. I couldn’t live with myself if I kept this from her. Loren and I don’t have secrets. I should be the one to tell her. They haven’t even filed the marriage certificate, it’s not too late to stop this if that’s what she wants.”

  I grabbed her arm, probably too tightly. She turned back to face me, her expression shocked. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s no need to cause a scene here.” I couldn’t let her tell. Not when I’d worked so hard to put this plan into motion. Not when I was so close. “Let’s go into the back room and talk. Create a game plan.”

  She looked unsure. “I don’t know, Coralee. She’s…Loren’s been through a lot. I think it would be better coming from me. I don’t want to see her get hurt and, you’re right, they can choose to just ignore it, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t at least tell her what we know. You can deal with Jack however you want, but I know what Loren would want to know.” She put a hand to her plum-colored lips. “She’s going to be devastated.”

  “Look, I don’t want anyone to get hurt. You’re on Loren’s side, I’m on Jack’s. Together, we can make an awkward situation a bit better, but we have to handle things…delicately.” I released her arm, ready to snatch it again if she argued.

  “This is going to break her heart.” She shook her head. “Oh my God, what are we going to do?”

  “I have a plan,” I lied. “A way to fix this so neither of them have to be hurt. Won’t you just come hear me out?” She hesitated. “If you disagree after I’ve told you the plan, I won’t stop you from telling her. But, at least do me the courtesy of hearing what I have to say.”

  To my relief, she nodded. “Yeah, okay.” I led the way toward the back room. When she shut the door, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find—Jack’s hammer—and I plunged it into her skull.

  Family certainly complicates things, doesn’t it?

  When it was over, she lay at my feet, a thick puddle of blood surrounding her cracked skull. I panicked, grabbing a tarp and covering her body with it. I needed to think. To be rational. It had been so long since I’d killed anyone, and I’d vowed it would never happen again. But it had been necessary. A means to an end.

  I tried to think like Grandfather, remember how calm he’d remained during the stressful moments that had haunted me my whole life. The fresh blood on my hands, figuratively and literally, was bringing back flashbacks of that night.

  I inhaled deeply through my nose. I’d make it to the bathroom, clean myself up like before. Then, I’d insist that Jack and Loren head home, leave me to clean up. I could stash the body in the freezer for a while, keep it cold. Then, I’d bump up my plan to move into Loren’s house. It had to happen sooner than later as it was the only way I’d be allowed access to the room. Her body would have to go in the secret room, too. It was the only way I could be sure it’d be hidden away for good.

  I sighed, clearing my throat and brushing away my tears. This was not the time to panic. I thought about the original plan, to move in once Malcolm had passed—his doctors were predicting months if we were lucky, but I no longer had that kind of time.

  It was merciful, wasn’t it? He was suffering, after all. If I could end that, wouldn’t he want me to? There was no chance he would live outside of his bed ever again. He would understand. Thank me for it, even. It was the right thing to do. The only thing.

  I placed my hands in front of my face, bowing my head in prayer.

  Forgive me, Father.

  Forgive me, Malcolm.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Loren

  When the police got there, I was a mess. They had us wait outside while they checked the house, but we’d told them what they’d find. Well, Jack did. I…couldn’t tell them anything. Couldn’t make words form. I paced, cried, cursed, vomited, and repeated. I screamed, my body shaking with anger and adrenaline as we waited.

  I couldn’t think straight. I was too out of it. Too lost in my own, clouded thoughts.

  How had Meredith ended up there?

  How was she dead?

  I’d just texted her a few weeks ago. She’d sent me a picture of the house.

  No.

  No.
>
  No.

  No.

  I vomited again, my jaw hurting from the tension. I sank into the grass, rolling over and staring up at the sky.

  Blue.

  Peaceful.

  Unaware of the dangers of the earth it covered.

  I lost myself in the wavy, windy sky, allowing my brain to settle into a comfortable, hazy place without thoughts or pain.

  Somewhere in the distance, Jack was speaking. His voice was strange, underwater sounding. He was saying my name, maybe. Calling out to me.

  No one’s home.

  No one’s home.

  No one’s home.

  No one.

  No one.

  No one.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Loren

  When I woke up next, I was back at my house—my new house—in bed. The room was dark, filled with a deafening silence. I sat up, scared of the voices in my head. Scared of the silence. Scared of the dark.

  “Jack!” I screamed. His footsteps headed toward me in an instant, and the door swung open, the light blinding my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, rushing toward my side and flipping on the lamp by the bed.

  “I’m…no.” No sense lying. “Was it her? Was it really her?”

  His silence was a confirmation.

  I sobbed, loudly and uncontrollably, and Jack held me as tight as he could through the pain.

  “I love you, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.” He repeated the words like a mantra, sometimes whispers, sometimes louder. He kissed my head, rubbed my hair.

  “How?” I asked him, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my shirt.

  “They don’t know how, yet. But she’d been there…for years, Lor.”

  “Years?” I repeated. Since she went missing. I knew right then, we both knew the truth. My eyes burned from crying, my throat was sore from the cries. “It’s all my fault.”