by Hunter Shea
Sliding her feet into her slippers, Kate patted Buttons on the head and whispered, “Come on, But-But. Keep Mommy company.”
The beagle reluctantly padded off the bed, sneezing onto her feet.
“Ewww. Thanks a lot, buddy.”
Buttons went ahead of her, presumably toward his dish in the kitchen. If he was going to be forced to be awake, he might as well have a post-midnight snack.
The house was eerily quiet. The dull hum of their central air system had gone silent. Out of habit and comfort, Kate always had the TV on. Without that background noise, it was like walking through a deserted graveyard.
Now you’re being dramatic.
There was some light illuminating the floor of the living room, but not the usual pasting of yellow from the streetlight. This was more subdued – the blue/black of the moon forcing its way into their home.
Buttons stopped at the entrance to the living room.
His tail dropped.
A low growl rumbled in his throat.
Kate stopped.
Buttons never growled. Ever.
Shit. What if this was one of those home invasions where the thieves cut the power to the house? Was someone in her living room at this very moment, standing still as a statue, careful not to make a sound, not to breathe too hard, waiting to clobber anyone who stumbled into him?
She thought of Audrey Hepburn in Wait Until Dark, a terrified blind woman turning the tables on the criminals who had broken into her home.
You’re not Audrey Hepburn and this isn’t a movie.
Normally, she’d think it was just her paranoia, the meds, or that strange treatment aftereffect playing tricks with her mind, like it had been all night. She hadn’t told Andrew half the things she saw and felt over the years, knowing (after the fact) that they were just phantom images culled from a brain that was awash in chemicals. Kate once saw a baby with one arm hopping on their bed, singing a song in Spanish as it leered at her with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. The rational part of her brain had known there was no evil baby, but as it leapt over her feet and up toward Andrew’s pillow, it took all of her strength not to grab the lamp and try to smash it.
She cast a quick glance back to the bedroom.
Andrew.
Her legs were suddenly trapped in quicksand, afraid to go forward and unable to retreat to the bedroom.
One hand resting on the wall, she parted her lips and breathed through her mouth, in case air whistling in her nose would give her away. She felt for the vibration of any movement through the soles of her feet and palm of her hand. Her ears strained so hard, a tiny buzz of tinnitus rose from the silence. Her hips and shoulders ached from the creeping tension that stiffened her back.
Who was in her house?
Buttons also hadn’t moved, looking into the living room at something…or someone…she couldn’t see. Trapped in the moonlight, his lips pulled back, slobber splattering the floor.
Oh God, oh God, oh God!
Kate wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Most of all, she wanted to run and get Andrew. But her body, as always, refused to listen to her.
What had Buttons so riled up?
Please bark! If he got to barking, that would definitely wake Andrew up. And maybe, just maybe, it would scare off whoever was in her living room.
She swallowed hard, her stomach growing nauseated. She didn’t know how much longer she could stay like this.
Buttons suddenly sat, gave a short whine, and started to wag his tail.
He looked back at her, as if to say, Are you coming or not? This was all your idea.
Whatever had spooked him was gone. He turned away and waddled out of sight and toward the kitchen.
Kate nearly collapsed as she let out the breath she’d been holding.
Her paralysis broke and she was able to creep down the hall, encouraged by the slobbering sounds of Buttons attacking his bowl, crunching the dry food with abandon.
The apprehension that had been steadily crushing her like a soda can was gone. She peeked into the living room. Of course it was empty. Daring herself to look out the window, she parted the blinds and jumped back.
A bird had been perched on the window. Startled when she touched the blinds, it tore off into the night. With a hand over her own shocked heart, Kate spluttered with nervous laughter, despite her chest hurting.
She’d nearly pissed herself over a bird.
Buttons hated birds. She and Andrew wondered if he’d been a cat in a previous life. She wasn’t going to be much of a fan after this, either.
It probably didn’t help that they’d spent the night watching horror movies.
Buttons nudged his cold, wet nose against her calf.
“Thanks for freaking me out.”
To top it all off, it looked like the power was out everywhere.
Kate’s head spun.
Whoa.
“Okay, now I think I’m ready to sleep.”
Exhaustion hit her like a cold fist to the temple.
Before she walked back to the bedroom, she took one more look at the window where the bird had been. A cold realization made her stomach churn.
Buttons hadn’t been growling in that direction.
* * *
Andrew had been exceedingly busy over the past two weeks, but few of his endeavors had anything to do with actual work. There was a lot of research going on.
He had to pull the trigger now, and even though everything was rushed – and kept secret from Kate – it was all going to be for the better.
The meeting with HR and his boss was nerve-wracking. Not so much because he was afraid to talk to them. His main concern was that they would say no and delay things so much that he’d miss his opportunity. At one point, as he was basically spilling his guts all over the conference room table, he started to cry. He was embarrassed as hell, but to his surprise, it changed the atmosphere in the room. Suddenly they were more than happy to work with him and grant his request. Noella from HR had tears in her own eyes when she handed him the papers to sign.
Andrew pulled into Milano’s parking lot, opened the folder on the passenger seat, and scanned the printed sheets for the hundredth time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this light, this happy.
After picking up two pies, he stopped to get a six-pack, Kate’s favorite soda, and the few snacks she still liked to eat. There was also a pit stop at the florist, where he purchased three dozen yellow carnations.
Needless to say, she was shocked to see him home early on a Tuesday, his arms laden with all of the booty he’d picked up on his drive home.
“What is all of this?” she said, groggily rubbing her eyes. Her hair was sticking out every which way and the bags under her eyes were heavy and dark. He knew she’d been having trouble sleeping lately, but so far she hadn’t broached the subject with him.
“This, my dear, is a celebration.”
“You got me carnations!”
“I sure did.”
Buttons barked his approval when Andrew placed them on her lap. She bent close and sniffed them.
“I don’t know why I love yellow carnations so much,” she said.
“At least when it comes to flowers, you’re easy to please. It kind of makes up for everything else. Kinda,” he said with a wink.
“And please tell me that’s Milano’s.”
“It is.”
She set the flowers on the coffee table. “Okay, spill it. Did you get a promotion? Did you find out you have a long-lost rich uncle that just died and left you his mansion in Saddle River?”
“I wish.” He handed her the file folder. “Check it out.”
She flipped it open. The front page showed a house on a lake nestled underneath a thick canopy of evergreens. “What is this?”
“Would you be shocked
if I told you it’s our home for the next three months?”
Her eyes grew wide, the fatigue washed away instantly.
“What? Three months? Where?”
He put his arm around her. “You know how we’ve always talked about moving to a lake house in Maine?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I rented one for the entire summer. It has everything we ever wanted – a deck overlooking the lake, dock, and privacy, all surrounded by two acres of nothing but trees and walking trails.”
She went through page after page, reading the specs on the house and looking at the dozen pictures Andrew had printed. Her eyes shimmered.
“But how can we do this? Your job isn’t going to allow you to work remotely for months.”
Hugging her, he said, “I know, which is why I’ve taken a three-month leave of absence. No leaving you during the day, no having to hit the hay early because I have to get up in the morning. You’ve got me twenty-four-seven, if you can stand me that long.”
“And they’re okay with this?”
“Yep. It’s all part of the Family Medical Leave Act. The leave is unpaid, of course, but we can afford it.”
She threw her arms around his neck, scattering the pages. Buttons howled.
“Oh…my…God! This is incredible!”
“I know,” Andrew said in a high falsetto.
“Where is it in Maine?” she asked.
“In Bridge Mills, in the lakes region. The house is right on Round Lake.”
“But…how did you get a gorgeous place like this on such short notice?”
“Call it fate, but it just became available the day I had decided to do everything. The realtor said a couple had rented it into the fall, but the husband passed away suddenly.”
Kate’s excitement dulled. “That’s horrible.”
“It is. But we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. You’re right. The big question is, when do we go?”
“You think we have enough time to pack for Saturday?”
“Hell yeah.” She hugged him again. “I love you so much, you know that?”
“I love you too.”
“Now, where’s my pizza?”
Chapter Six
Kate wasn’t the least surprised when she came down with a stomach virus on Thursday. It always happened. Give her something to look forward to, and her body would find a way to crap all over it. In this case, literally.
That meant Andrew had to do all the packing while she made lists in the bathroom. He’d become very adept at running the entire house, but he was starting to gripe at the slew of errands she’d mapped out for him to pick up all the stuff they needed.
He said, “You know, they do have stores in Maine that sell things to people who possess this thing called money. If I keep buying stuff here, we won’t have enough room in the car to carry it all.”
Scrolling through her tablet in the bathroom, she said, “Ha-ha. It’s just a few things.”
“It was just a few things two days ago. Now it’s bordering on comical.”
“We don’t know the kinds of stores they have and if they carry the stuff I need and like.”
Her stomach cramped and she squeezed her eyes shut. She hated stomach viruses most of all because of how quickly they depleted her already fragile system. Andrew kept trying to force those damned shakes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to taking the slightest sip.
“We’re going to Maine, not Azerbaijan,” he said through the door. “I’m pretty sure we can find cortisone cream and Mike and Ike candy there.”
Of all the pleasures she’d lost, her sweet tooth wasn’t one of them. Candy soothed her stomach. Andrew swore she was part insect, happy to live in a bag of sugar. Some days, it didn’t sound like such a bad idea. If insects couldn’t get autoimmune diseases, she’d sign right up. She’d already looked up the longest-living insects and decided she’d want to be a queen termite. They could live up to fifty years. If she turned into one now, that would take her to eighty-eight. She had far better prospects as an insect than a human. Plus, bonus, she’d be a queen!
“You don’t know that for sure,” she said.
“Pretty sure I do.”
“Can you please just get what’s on my list?”
“Which list? You’ve made about a hundred of them in the past two days. I’ll need to hire someone just to go shop for all the things you want,” he said irritably.
A stomach cramp made Kate’s eyes water.
Why was he standing outside the door like that? The last thing she wanted was for him to hear her pooping.
“Just go,” she said, holding back what was desperate to come out.
“I guess I’ll see you in three days. If I’m lucky.”
“Three days without you mumbling and cranky would be nice.”
There was a thump on the door and she heard him walk away. Or stalk away might have been more appropriate. He was a stickler about packing the car, and she was a little fuzzy when it came to spatial awareness, so getting prepared for trips always brought moments of tension. She wasn’t angry at Andrew (well, she was now, but she hadn’t been before this). Mostly, she was upset with herself and the inevitable illness that robbed her of what should be a fun, exciting time.
He returned later that night, his arms laden with bags, the expression on his face telling her he had only gotten more upset as the day wore on. They argued, as usual when things bubbled up like this, Kate taking the daybed for the night, both of them fuming. Kate was both angry at him for making such a big production of things, and herself for not being able to help. Did he think she liked making all these lists? She’d give anything to be able to go all over town and get everything herself.
The next day, Andrew extended the olive branch first, saying he was sorry and offering to make her breakfast. She accepted the apology and gave her own, but turned down the food. The thought of something even as bland as toast made her cringe. As the time drew near to journey to Maine, they both worried that she wouldn’t be able to make the trip.
By Saturday, there was nothing left inside Kate, so she gave him the official okay to hit the road.
“You sure you’ll be fine?” he said, adjusting the straps on the vinyl cap he’d had to buy and install on the roof of the car to carry all their stuff.
She reclined her seat as far as it would go, cradling her favorite pillow, which she’d named Mooshy when she was a little girl. Mooshy came everywhere with her. It was a soft, amorphous blob that had ceased being an actual pillow fifteen years earlier. Now it was just something comfortable for her to cradle.
“Trust me, the tank is empty. How long did you say the trip will be?”
He checked the GPS on his phone. “Ah, seven hours, give or take. I’m sure we’ll hit a traffic snarl around Boston that’ll make things interesting. Then there’s walking Buttons. And your bladder that’s about the size of a thimble.”
“Good, that’ll be a nice seven-hour nap.”
The car rocked when he got in and closed his door.
“I’m going to wake you from time to time to make sure you drink,” he said. “If you won’t eat, you at least have to rehydrate yourself.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Not a concern. Sometimes you have to do things just because. I bought a few of those little baby drinks that amp up your electrolytes. They’re in the cooler behind you.”
She smiled. “Aw, I really am your baby.”
Kate was tempted to crack one open now. Her heartbeat was ragged from time to time, making her dizzy. But at the moment, she just wanted to nod off.
“If putting it in a bottle helps, I’ll stop at the supermarket and pick one up,” he joked. However, she knew if she told him yes, she would drink a lot more if it was
in a baby bottle, he’d run out and buy a gross of them.
“Drive on, my good man. We’re burning daylight.”
As he backed out of the driveway, she waved goodbye to their house, a house that doubled as a hospital and prison. She wouldn’t have gone so far as to say it felt haunted lately, but it no longer brought her the same comfort it had in the past.
Buttons in his crate in the backseat gave it a farewell bark.
They were off to their dream house for a wonderful summer. Kate tried not to fixate on how shitty she felt, hoping Maine would somehow infuse her with the health, both physical and mental, that had been slipping from her grasp like fine sand.
* * *
Seven hours turned into almost ten, thanks to the Boston traffic Andrew had predicted, Kate and Buttons needing several pee breaks, stops for lunch and dinner (for Andrew and the dog), and getting lost for a spell down winding one-lane roads in Maine. Andrew woke her up when they passed through the small town of Bridge Mills, but by the time she was awake enough to take in the scenery, the shank of the town was behind them.
“That was small,” she said, peering at the fading row of shops in the side view mirror.
“Hey, it was four whole blocks. Looked like something out of a movie from the fifties. You missed the drive-in.”
“A drive-in? They still have those? Was it even operational?”
“Oh yeah. It looks like they have oldies Wednesdays, though not as old as you like them. We’re talking Caddyshack and Meatballs. Guess someone’s a Bill Murray fan.”
“Can we go?”
He stroked her hair. “As many times as you want.”
She was glad he didn’t say as many times as you can, which was the truth of it all. Right now, she wanted to live in a fantasy where everything was possible.
It was still light when they spotted the sign for Highland Road a split-second before passing it by for the fourth time.
“All righty, we now know our little house is so far off the grid, even Google can’t find it,” Andrew said.
“I don’t have any bars on my phone.”
“I’m not surprised.”
