The Widow's Walk

by Carole Ann Moleti

  Someone banged on the door. It had to be Kevin; Mae and Liz were far more dainty. Mike staggered downstairs.

  Sure enough, Kevin’s face, distorted through the stained glass sidelights, contorted with anger, peered in. His voice went up an octave or two as the door opened. “Mary, mother of God, she threw ya out?”

  Mae surged in his wake. “So ya handled it, ha? I defended ya, actually, though ya didn’t deserve it. Smells like a dive bar.”

  Kevin took Mae by the shoulders. “Give the guy a break. Ya know as well as anyone that there’s nothin’ between him and Sandra. He was just tryin’ to help Liz.”

  Mae shook him off. “I’d say it was pretty poor judgment, especially given the state Liz is in right now. I’m goin’ back to stay with her. The two of ya are goin’ to make a fine pair. One already drunk, the other thinkin’ it’s all okay.”

  Mike belched. A whiff of Jack Daniels permeated the air. “Liz didn’t throw me out. I left. Well, she suggested I might want to leave, and I did. She has to make a decision–me or that damn haunted house.”

  The brogue slid away as Katherine asserted herself. “I have a second chance to right the wrong and intend to take it.”

  Mae didn’t seem aware of it, but Kevin stood transfixed as his wife’s demeanor changed, her features and voice softened. Mike surrendered to the relief of his drunken haze. Jared remained silent. Liz would be looked after, and he wasn’t going to have to be the one to do it.

  Chapter 23

  The front door creaked and thudded. Liz clutched the baby and hurried to the nursery. She tucked him into the crib and tied her robe shut. Footsteps ascended the front stairs.

  Spectral energy filled the room. Liz’s scalp prickled. Something was going to happen, and she was alone with Eddie.

  Had Mae forgotten something? Was Mike reconsidering? Could it be an intruder? Footfalls scuffed in the hall. Liz grabbed her crutch and nudged the door shut with her toe. Her heart thumped. Why hadn’t she closed the nursery door?

  When she didn’t answer the soft knock, they rapped louder, more insistent. She raised the crutch and swooped it down as the door opened.

  “Liz!” Mae ducked out of the way, a hand clutched to her chest. “Mae!” Liz fumbled, and the crutch clattered to the floor, missing her head by the width of an angel’s wing. She buried her face in her hands, mortified. Despair finally broke through the façade.

  “I . . . I guess I should’ve called first. Oh, Lizzy. I’m sorry.” Mae hugged her.

  The warmth of another human body comforted Liz beyond what she’d expected. “What are you doing here?”

  Mae wiped her eyes. “Mike isn’t coming back tonight.” The brogue slid away as Katherine emerged from hiding. “There’s no way I’d leave you here all alone.”

  “I’m fine, Mae. Kevin will be lonesome.” She squeaked it out over Elisabeth who threatened to take control of her tongue and blabber how it had all been a terrible accident, a mistake. Old news, and there was no need to revisit it now.

  “I will not make the same mistake and leave you alone to walk into the bay.” Mae stared directly at Liz, her gaze so intense it was like she was looking straight at Elisabeth. Unsure who was in control of either of them, Liz extended her arms.

  Mae embraced Liz again. “Good. Then I’ll just take myself across the hall to the guest room. If ya need anythin’ just holler.” The brogue returned, the momentary breach of the veil sealed, the magical connection broken.

  Mae wandered into the nursery to check Eddie then went to her room. The relief, the comfort of her friend’s presence dimmed. So it was Mae’s turn to babysit tonight. And not just for Eddie. Why should anyone trust her? She’d squandered Gerry’s legacy, ruined her relationship with Jay, allowed her husband to drift into another woman’s arms, and repaid Mae and Kevin’s loyalty by threatening their livelihood.

  Liz padded downstairs to check the doors.

  Mae surprised her at the top of the landing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just being sure everything is locked. Neither of us wants any more intruders, do we?” “Goodnight, Lizzy.” Mae retreated to a guest room and left the door ajar.

  Liz fumed. She might even sit up all night, waiting to catch her.

  She returned to the rocker. The rhythmic motion lulled her to the edge of sleep. A faint light flickered through the few denuded maples in the pine grove. Mike was still awake, maybe even staring at the illumination in her window. If only he had a phone, she’d call him, apologize, ask him to come home. But if she tried to go over there, Mae would be on her tail and the whole thing would turn into an incident rather than an attempt at reconciliation.

  He was alone, devoid of any sense of life and happiness. No phone, no food, heat turned down low, no comforts. Was Jared raging within him as well? Or was Mike on the way to see Sandra with the news? Driving to the deli for a few staples and some beer, calling Allison on a pay phone to let her know where he could be reached, and that he’d dumped his wife?

  Liz turned off the light, crawled into bed, and curled around her pillow. Even moving to the middle didn’t disguise Mike’s absence. Though he hadn’t touched her for what seemed like months, he’d been there, a constant, comforting presence. Her bed, her life, her body were all empty, cold, dead–consumed by the ghost who swirled within.

  You must go to your husband, now. Don’t make the same mistake again.

  “Shut up.” Liz stretched and recoiled as her feet plunged into the cold sheets. She curled into a fetal position to capture some warmth, and only then did sleep override Elisabeth’s fretting.

  “Why did you do it, Elisabeth? Why did you follow Edward to your death?”

  Liz’s eyes shot open and she struggled to locate the origin of a male voice, familiar yet foreign at the same time. Her vision adjusted to the darkness. A sliver of yellow glowed from the night light in the nursery. Her scalp tingled, her skin erupted with goose bumps.

  She shivered. “Mike?”

  No answer. She could scream. Mae would come running, flip on the light, banish the ghosts.

  She could pretend nothing happened, that it was a dream, no a nightmare, spawned by the day’s traumas. Pull the covers over her head. Try and go back to sleep. Elisabeth stirred. I have to face this. Face him.

  With permission granted, Jared appeared in the window alcove, facing away, facing the bay. His shirt untucked, wrinkled. His hair disheveled. His trousers bagging at the knees, boots still on. His eyes blind, like liquid silver, but moving, taking in the entire room–and her. Trapped in that moment, talking to his dead wife concealed in another woman’s body.

  It’s time. Elisabeth moved her like a puppeteer.

  Liz slipped out of bed. Jared buried his face in both hands, sobbing soundlessly. Liz heard them in her head–as she sensed the words being spoken.

  Elisabeth spoke through her. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt myself. Please believe me. I never intended it to happen.”

  Jared’s lips curled into a snarl, his fists clenched, he glided toward her.

  Liz recoiled, her heart raced. She could get away, get into the hall, turn on the light, scream. But Eddie was out of her reach, helpless. Liz braced herself for the same reaction Mike had when he’d touched the ghost.

  Elisabeth extended Liz's arms. “I loved you, Jared. But I needed Edward’s assurance. He was calling me, and I went to him.”

  “And he let you drown. Will you never cease risking your life for him?” Jared hissed.

  “Edward did nothing to harm me. He returned me to life, to you. Made amends.”

  “And you reject me still.” The ghost encircled Liz in his misty aura. The odour of sweat, tears, grief, death filled the room.

  Liz shivered, the cold, so profound her hands and feet went numb. Her breath vaporized.

>   Elisabeth reached for Jared. “What’s done is done and cannot be changed. Come to me now.”

  “Why?” His face contorted with rage. Jared’s hands touched her shoulders. “Why should I believe you?”

  A jolt numbed her tongue, rooted her feet to this sad place. Elisabeth fought to escape, to materialize, to go to him. One of her arms appeared, then another. “Take me with you.” A bare right foot, then the left protruded.

  Liz struggled to breathe as Elisabeth pulled herself free.

  Jared’s eyes gleamed with sinister delight. Then his sightless eye sockets fixed on the door, and he faded away.

  Liz drew deep breaths once more. The radiators banged, clanked, shusshed.

  “Merciful God, speak to me.” Mae walked toward her.

  She’d scared Jared away, his words meant for Elisabeth’s ears only, his fury for only her to experience. Elisabeth shrunk back into her like a punctured Mylar balloon. A metallic, musty aura lingered.

  “Eddie.” Still trembling, Liz staggered toward the nursery. Nausea washed over her, and she clasped her hand over her mouth until she could grab the plastic garbage pail to vomit into.

  She crumbled to the floor next to the crib, her legs like overstretched rubber bands. The baby slept, undisturbed, unaware.

  Mae fell to her knees next to them. “Did he hurt you?” She stroked Liz’s face, dabbed her mouth with a tissue, and pulled back the tangled mat of hair.

  Liz’s tongue, still thick, her breath still shallow, found words. “I’ll be all right.”

  The tingle of Jared’s fury lingered. What if Elisabeth had escaped? Would she have blocked his wrath, or would she have killed Liz to appease Jared?

  She couldn’t share what happened with Mae. Understanding the threat would only make them more protective, restrictive.

  Mae helped Liz to her feet. “The baby is fine. Go back to bed.”

  “What did you see?” Liz had to know.

  “Jared Sanders reaching for you. You preparing to go to him. Might you have gone had I not intervened?” Katherine’s melodious British replaced the brogue.

  “No,” Liz lied.

  Mae snapped back into control and guided Liz to the bed. “I’ll get ya some water.”

  “Yes.” Liz lay back and pulled the covers over her, wishing for a hot cup of tea, for Mike.

  Send her for tea, Elisabeth insisted, a throwback to the time Katherine had waited on her hand and foot.

  So you can get me alone and try that again? No way.

  Mae moved like she was sleepwalking, and asking her to do any more was far too cruel. She flipped on a tiny lamp on the dresser. The bathroom tap gurgled. Her footsteps asserted human presence once again. She sat on the side of the bed while Liz raised herself up and gulped. The lump in her throat dissolved. Exhaustion, weakness overcame her.

  Mae tucked the covers around her. “Stay with us, Liz. You belong with the living, not the ghosts.”

  She’d seen everything. She might have even sensed Elisabeth’s command. Katherine might even had suggested she retrieve some tea and been silenced by Mae’s insistence they not leave the mistress alone.

  Mae crawled across the bed and slipped under the covers. “I’ll be stayin’ close by to be sure yer not bothered by them again.”

  As much as Liz resented it, without the human presence, the comfort of Mae’s hand on her arm, she would have been tempted to escape into the cold, lonely limbo once and for all. Save for the tattered connection with this woman that kept her bound to the present, Liz would have been trapped between Elisabeth and Jared in their tragic past.

  Mae’s breathing deepened. Exhaustion clawed at Liz’s eyelids, but every time she allowed them to close, the memory of Jared’s snarl, so similar to Mike’s recent verbal assaults, burned her eyes like someone had thrown sand in them.

  Two women sleeping together, their husbands alone. How long could this go on before Mae’s marriage was as wrecked as Liz and Mike’s? The tangled threads of Elisabeth and Edward’s lives had ensnared Jared, Katherine and Paul, dooming Mike, Mae and Kevin to as much misery as Liz.

  Edward might have put things right, but the knots were too tight, the strands too entwined to be separated. With each twist and turn, the noose got tighter. The web had trapped innocents: Jay, Eddie, Allison–leaving them confused and uncertain, prey for the venomous spiders of doubt, worry, anger, and distrust.

  And Edward, the ghost at the center of it, had vanished as quickly and surely as he had the first time, not sticking around to help cut them loose. Perhaps finding him, buried somewhere deep inside the knot of woes, would help untie them all, free them. But where was he? His aura merely lingered on the bay, but not nearly as tangibly as Elisabeth and Jared in this room. Edward was far removed from the reality of the shambles left in his wake.

  Edward Barrett told Elisabeth told her to stay in the house to honour his memory. He’d told her to live her life–the one stolen and given back. But he hadn’t told her how to deal with the specters, with the flashbacks of misery and pain. Ghosts don’t feel; they relive and relive their trauma, oblivious to those around them. She had to find Edward to find out what to do next.

  Chapter 24

  Eddie whimpered. Liz dragged herself out of bed.

  Before his diaper was changed, Mae was at the nursery door. “Are ya okay, Lizzy? Do ya want to sleep a bit more?”

  “I’m fine, Mae. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll make breakfast for a change. Kevin and Mike will be here soon.” Her voice broke into a strained whisper.

  “I haven’t slept later than 5:30 in so long my body won’t even let me lay flat at this hour.” Mae grabbed her robe and headed downstairs.

  By the time Eddie was freshened up, pots were banging.

  Liz wasn’t the only one lying. Mae’s eyes were slits, and her lids were puffy, red.

  Eddie settled into his chair, into his normal morning routine. He focused on the door, waiting for Kevin to arrive for breakfast. Could his baby brain be hoping Mike would come, too? Or was that her hoping?

  “Is it ever like this for you and Kevin, Mae? Do the ghosts take over? Do they visit at all?”

  Mae put two cups of tea on the table. “Nothin’ like this. Just an occasional feeling I’ve been in a similar situation, a memory–usually bad. Kevin, too, or so he says. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

  Liz sipped. “You never lose control? Over the ghost, I mean.”

  Mae didn’t hesitate. “No. Katherine puts in, but the most she’s done is clean up my language. Right proper young lady, she was. Shy, quiet. Nothin’ like me. Elisabeth’s death changed her forever.”

  “Am I supposed to just forget about Sandra? Give up everything and trust him to always be there for me?” Could Mae understand how hard it was to control the grief stricken ghosts desperate to escape?

  Mae cradled her chin between her thumb and index finger, her brow crinkled. She sighed. “That man isn’t a philanderer. And he’s always been by yer side.”

  Liz’s hope evaporated. Mae and Kevin could live with theirs, but Liz and Mike’s ghosts were hell bent on destroying themselves, and maybe even each other. Mae and Kevin didn’t understand, and Mike had chosen to flee.

  Kevin clumped up the back porch, but he didn’t enter the kitchen.

  Eddie squealed, but all Kevin could manage was a wimpy smile. “We’ll stop at the diner and eat. Just wanted to let ya both know.” His eyes had almost disappeared into the lines and dark circles.

  “But . . .”

  He cut Mae off. “Right terrible sleepless night for us all.” Kevin turned to Liz. “The two of ya need to work this out before it kills ya both.”

  Mae followed her husband out to commiserate in the mudroom. Snippets of anxious conversation drifted in.

 
Mae, desperate. “ . . . can’t stay in the house . . .”

  Kevin, insistent. “Talk it through . . .”

  Mae, again. “ . . . can’t be alone.”

  Can’t be alone. Can’t be alone. She couldn’t be left alone to make her own decisions, her own plans, her own choices. The knot got a little closer to being a noose.

  Liz couldn’t stay, but she couldn’t leave. Mike had his own answers, but what were the questions? Only Edward knew–he’d broken free of his purgatory and hadn’t been seen for nearly a year.