“I’m done for the day,” he said.
“It’s about time,” she replied, snidely.
“Well, we got a lot done,” he replied, an edge to his voice.
She noticed dark lines under his eyes and softened, realizing he had probably had a rough night too. “Are you working any more overnights?”
He replied, his tone lightening to match hers, “We got a lot accomplished. I’ll be happy when this project is over.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” she pointed out. When he didn’t say anything, she asked, sighing, “Is there much more to do?”
He nodded, sighing. “Oh, yeah.” He gestured his chin toward the bench. “What’re you doing?”
She glanced at the white box on her dresser and admitted, “It may sound morbid, but I wish we had taken at least one picture of Sophie.”
He looked horrified, instantly causing her to regret her confession. His face hardened. “Why are you suddenly obsessed?”
Her pulse quickened, driving her from zero to eighty. “Obsessed?” Suddenly, the urge to talk openly about it was upon them. Let’s get this over with. I’m tired of agonizing over it, she thought.
“What’s going on?”
She shrugged, glancing back at the box, and then at him. “I don’t know.” And that was the truth. She was just having these strange dreams, seeing these images of Sophie.
“What happened to get you so…wrapped up in this?”
“ ‘Wrapped up’?” She guffawed. “I’m not the one trying to forget her.” She had stunned herself; she hadn’t intended to say it. Is that how she felt? That John was trying forget Sophie? Feeling panic rise inside her, she spun it back on him. “What’s your issue?”
“I don’t have an issue.” His face had changed and the way he looked at her…It unnerved her. He was a stranger eyeing her carefully.
“You’ve forgotten her,” Kara repeated, her eyes challenging his. “You don’t want to remember her.”
“I’ve never forgotten her,” he said quietly.
“You’ve moved on.”
He shook his head, setting his jaw. “I’m not getting into this. It was a long night. I’m tired.”
“You’re ‘not getting into this’?”
“I’m done. I’ll be in my office.” He left the room. They had finally discussed Sophie and it was over before it had even begun.
She stared at the empty doorway, hearing his heavy steps, leading him away. There was the squeak of the office chair and the swell of the computer being turned on. She remembered the note laying on his desk (LEAVE!!!). He’d probably think she had written it and had laid it there like a petulant child.
A child who was afraid of the dark.
He didn’t say anything else; it was unclear if he had even noticed the note. But, even from the bedroom, she could tell his mind was elsewhere, their moment forgotten.
She slid her cellphone into her jeans pocket and left the house without telling him where she was going. She had time to spare before she’d have to get Lilah. The house was too stuffy and she needed out.
The sky was heavy with clouds. Puffs of white, light grays, and deep charcoals drifted now and again just to show a glimpse of the yellow sliver of sun playing hide-and-seek. Her feet led her blindly down the stepping stones that drew her through the front yard and soon, she was on the road walking with purpose. She walked down its center, empty of traffic, headed toward town. The wind picked up and strands of dark hair stroke her cheeks and dabbed her lips.
After a time, she found herself looking squarely at the gray barn. Crooked, worm-eaten posts tiredly held itself up. The interior was mostly covered in shadow. It was an ugly building, surely a code violation, there was something pitiful about it. The structure drew her in and she couldn’t explain why it happened, or what magic it held, but she felt a sense of calm. From a car, you could only take it at face value: an ageing eyesore. But, standing level with it, sharing its breath, truly gazing at it, she felt its warmth. The splintered roof, chipped gray paint blending with decayed wood, bird nests housed under corner eaves, it was a presence that sat behind the dirt carpet that extended from the road.
From the dark recesses of her mind, she recognized the double standard; she had told Jack and Lilah to stay away from the barn. But why hadn’t she heeded her own words?
She stayed a while, unmoving, until a truck came bumbling toward her, making her hurry onto the dirt that stretched like a hand, beckoning her toward the barn.
She bent forward, now that she was closer to the structure, gaining a look inside. She was struck with an urge to explore it. There was nothing remarkable about the building that nature alone could raze. She tore her eyes away and glanced at the farmhouse next door. It sat smugly in the backdrop.
You want to go in, don’t you, it taunted. You want to see.
As always, the curtains over the farmhouse windows were drawn closed, lifeless, no sign of anyone.
Her eyes flicked back to the barn, mere yards from her. She pictured its loft again, wondering what hid there. But the image vanished when a screech trilled in the sky. Her eyes shot skyward. Three large turkey vultures circled above the roof.
Kara stepped back, inching close to the road. Had the sky darkened further? It was a trick, because although the sky there was a mix of charcoal and white, the day was comfortably warm.
The birds landed as one, ruffling black feathers, settling on the roof. Two groomed themselves, but the third watched her, its dead stare dashing out her desire to enter the barn. She backed away, stumbling over the raised surface of the road.
“On your right!” a man’s breathless voice called, making her spin around.
She staggered backward to clear the way, catching the side of the jogger’s face. Dumbstruck, she watched him as he strode past. She hadn’t had a good look at his face, but did his dark blond hair and his build look like…
David?
She stared.
It couldn’t be. No. If that were David, he would’ve stopped; why would he be jogging on her street anyway?
He’s looking for you.
She watched him until he disappeared over the crest of the hill. How random, she thought, David wouldn’t just be out here jogging. You’re losing it, Kara, get it together. She looked back at the trio of vultures, seeing they all watched her. Chilled, she turned away.
Heading home, her eyes trailing over the empty farmhouse, her cellphone rang. Her fingers fumbled over the phone as she pulled it from her pocket. Was it her mother calling to warn her, “David’s in town”?
Seeing Tracy’s name on the phone’s screen, she swallowed the thought, convinced the jogger hadn’t been David. It was just too impossible a thought. It had to be impossible.
“Hey! What’re you up to today?” The familiar voice was loud on the otherwise quiet lane.
Kara kept walking, her eyes on the road. “I was just taking a walk.” Trying to keep her voice light, she asked, “Hey, did my mom mention David to you?”
“David who?”
“David Reynolds.” Saying his name aloud tasted bitter, summoning a creep. “Jack’s dad. My mom told me he reached out to her.”
“He did? No, she hasn’t said anything about it. What did he want?”
“I have no idea. She texted me that he called her, but she hasn’t given me any details.”
“Do you want me to ask her about it?”
Tracy was already too involved in Kara’s drama with Margaret. Kara instantly regretted mentioning it. “No, it’s fine. I’ll call her later. I was just curious.”
“I’d be curious too. You haven’t talked to him since you had Jack, right?”
Kara was nearing her driveway and wasn’t comfortable talking about a ghost from her past out in the open. “No. Well, I have to get Lilah from school soon.”
“I won’t keep you. I was just seeing if you wanted to hang out this weekend. You can show me your marvelous town.”
Kara was hesitant,
not sure how she felt about Tracy these days, but agreed to the idea. “Sure. Shannon told me about an antique shop in town. I haven’t gone yet. Want to do that?”
“Saturday?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, great!
Kara ended the call, wondering if mentioning David had been a mistake; she had been subconsciously trained to not divulge too much to Tracy, who tended to leak information to Margaret. It was the reason Kara hadn’t told her about her recent thoughts (obsession?) of Sophie, her strange dreams, and her squabble with John. With Tracy, there was always the risk that anything they discussed would get back to Margaret.
As Kara climbed the driveway, her cellphone rang again. The name, Desmond Howard, her real estate agent, flashed on the screen. She wrinkled her nose, remembering the call she had made about the Collumber house the day before. She thought about letting it go to voicemail, but then after the third ring, decided she should get her embarrassment over with.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Desmond Howard from Duchess Real Estate. Is this Kara?”
“Hi, Desmond. This is she.”
“Ahem, great! How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Wonderful! Ahem! I see that you called…”
Kara’s face grew warm. “Yeah.” She let out a short laugh. “Ignore that. I was just looking through listings and saw the one for the Collumber house. I didn’t mean to call.”
“You were looking through house listings? Is there anything wrong with your house?”
“Oh, no. We love it here. I was just being nosy when I saw it’s for sale.”
“Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat. “It is. Magnificent house.”
“Will there be an open house?” She jumped at the idea. Imagine touring the Collumber house, running her hand along the polished wood banister…
“No, no. It’s toured by appointment only. Only serious buyers can view it.”
She frowned.
“Everything’s alright? John and the children are well?”
“Yes. Everyone’s doing good.”
“Yes?”
“Yep.”
“Did you get my housewarming gift?
“Um…”
“I left it on your doorstep.”
Her thoughts sifted through what she had found recently at her doorstep: a dead opossum, a threatening note…
“The plant?” he prompted.
Her eyes settled on the mum sitting on the porch. “Oh, yes! It came from you? I wondered who had sent it.”
“Yes. A housewarming gift.”
“Thanks! I haven’t gotten around to planting flowers yet, so they’re very appreciated.”
“Well, then. I am glad everything is going well for you and your family. Call me if you need anything or have any more questions.”
“Okay.” She hung up, feeling idiotic. Desmond knew their finances as well as she knew them, and it was obvious they couldn’t afford an additional property, especially a large historical house. Well, at least one mystery was solved: he had sent the mum. But who had left the note?
* * *
John wasn’t far behind when Kara crawled into bed that night. “You’re coming to bed early,” she commented, feeling him pull the covers. Dinner had passed with practically no words spoken between them, an easy task when your children controlled the tempo of idle conversation. He had spent the day tucked away in his office and she had stayed away, avoiding the room.
He said, sounding like his normal self, “Well, I thought if there was ever a chance to spend alone time with my wife, it’d be now.” It was as if they hadn’t had words earlier that day, as if he hadn’t accused her of being obsessed with their dead child, as if she hadn’t pouted about his late hours.
She started to say, sarcastically, they could’ve had time together that morning, but didn’t when he draped a protective leg over hers.
He pulled her in close and kissed her. Nuzzling her neck, he said, “I’m sorry for not coming home last night.”
She sighed, interlacing their fingers. “We missed you.”
He shifted to his back, releasing her hand, and pulled his arms up under the pillow behind his head. “This project is really important. It’s the first big task I’ve been put in charge of. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“I know.” Keeping her voice steady, she asked, “So you think more overnights?”
“I can’t promise there won’t be any more, but I’ll try. We actually made a lot of headway last night. The project can make or break the company right now. It’s that important. I don’t like working all the time, but…it’ll be over soon.”
“Okay, but if it gets out of hand…” she trailed off, then chuckled, flipping to her back.
He took her hand in his again and rested their joined fists in the narrow space between them. “Were you able to sleep last night?”
Ah, she thought, he does know I’m afraid to be alone at night. ’Fraidy cat. It really was embarrassing to her.
“A little,” she admitted. “I haven’t been sleeping very well lately anyway.”
“You haven’t?”
“No, not really. Have you?” She wanted to ask, have you been seeing strange things in your dreams too? They haunted her nearly every night now. The details were vague, but each morning, a feeling of dread hovered over her.
“Yeah, I sleep great.”
“You’re probably exhausted by the time you get to bed.” She felt him nodding.
“That’s probably true. I’ve slept like a baby since we’ve been here.”
“Lucky you.”
“Guess you don’t need that anymore.” He gestured toward the nightstand.
She looked over, knowing he meant the baby monitor, still turned on, tuned to Lilah’s bedroom. “I probably don’t. Lilah hasn’t woken in the middle of the night in weeks. “I’ll store it away tomorrow.”
After a while, he said, softly, “The house is so quiet out here.”
“Except for the crickets and frogs.” They could hear them now. The cloudy day had kept the temperature mild and even now at night, the room was comfortable with the windows open.
“That’s probably what puts me to sleep.”
“Country boy for life.”
“Let me turn the fan on. That might help you sleep.” He let go of her hand and she watched his silhouette get up and turn on the pedestal fan across the room. He aimed it at the bed and she felt the temperature cool even further. Its hum was soothing. He climbed back into bed and held her hand again.
She pulled the covers over her arms and finding the mood easy, asked, “Did you see the ‘leave’ note on your desk?”
He shifted, but remained on his side. “No. What is it?”
“Somebody knocked on the door yesterday and left a note that said, ‘Leave.’ I put it on your desk.”
“ ‘Leave?’ ” He chuckled.
“Do you think it’s a prank?”
“Yeah, a lame prank. Kids do dumb things.”
Kara wondered why they were the butt of a joke. Risk of being the new people in town?
John yawned and was soon asleep. Kara turned to her side and reached for her cellphone. Clicking it on, she pulled up her mom’s text messages. There was nothing new, Kara’s last text being, Hello?
She laid the cellphone on the nightstand and settled under the covers. She tried to shut out her thoughts and concentrate on the whir of the fan, but she could still hear the underlying chirp of crickets.
Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep…she chanted the mantra, focusing on the words, over and over until, gratefully, her subconscious finally took over and she too, fell asleep…
Just a couple more rungs she’d have to mount and her head would clear the hayloft…if she could make it this time. It wasn’t the ladder she climbed that kept her down, though. Made from rough-hewn wood with splintered arms she tried to avoid each time she slid down, it was the invisible force she fought against tha
t knocked her down repeatedly.
Up, up, up, she urged herself not for the first time. She had been pushed down to the straw-covered floor so many times already.
The barn was oddly bright. It felt similar to the gray one she drove by during waking hours; it had the same floorplan, even the location of the hayloft was the same. But still, it wasn’t the same, it didn’t even smell the same. Kara stole sideway glances, taking stock of the ropes, hoes, shovels, and other tools that kept the barn in working order. She looked up, beyond the loft, and saw a gap in the wooden wall, a makeshift window letting in sunlight. She clung tight to the ladder, willing herself to make it to the top. She was nearly there.
Up, up, up.
Desperate to reach the loft before being sent downward again, she shot out an arm and laid her hand flat on its wide-slatted floor. She wiggled her fingers, feeling the spindly straw. She had never made it this far. With renewed confidence, she lifted one leg, making to step up the next rung.
But her footing was wrong and down she went, both feet striking the golden floor below.
A weight pressed against her, but still, she grabbed hold of the ladder and started to climb again. In no time, she was near the loft again, so close.
But this time, a male voice, called, “Stop! Leave!”
It startled her, making her jump. She lost balance, letting go of the ladder, and fell.
* * *
“Ugh!” Kara hit the carpeted floor, hard. Her eyes popped open. It took a moment to realize she was sitting cockeyed on her bedroom floor. The sun filtered in through the drapes and the bed sheet was tangled around her legs. She groaned, feeling like she had busted open her elbow and hip. She looked herself over, finding nothing was bleeding or appeared broken.
“Mommy?”
She looked up, seeing Lilah standing in the doorway. “I’m okay,” Kara said, feeling silly being caught falling out of bed.
But Lilah seemed to pay no mind. “I’m hungwy.”
Kara pulled away the sheet as she straightened to a sitting position. “ ‘Hungry’.”
“Hungry.”
“Alright, I’m getting up.” Kara’s eyes zeroed in on the statue gripped in her daughter’s hands. The frog’s grin mocked her as she sat there stupidly. She shook her head, clearing it, and with the dream hazy now (she had been climbing stairs or something…), she got up. John had already left for work and she had little time to get the kids ready for school.
Housewarming Page 15
