The Glamorous Life of a Mediocre Housewife

by Crissy Sharp

  Jocelyn rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, that’s truly distressing. Maybe we can all get together on Saturday and watch the shows on Nikki’s DVR since hers is fine.”

  “There. I feel better already,” Lotty said.

  “Ms. Brooks?” A lady wearing the gym’s signature blue polo stood next to the booth. “We need you in the childcare area. Your son has a dirty diaper.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Lotty said. The lady left and Lotty sighed. “Speaking of distress, I’m out of wipes. I used the last ones on Aiden’s chocolate-covered face before we came inside. I guess I’m headed home now.” Lotty grinned and gathered her stuff. “Bye, girls.”

  “Bye,” Nikki said.

  “Find a hobby,” Jocelyn called after her.

  Lotty waved her off without looking back, but in her mind she was slowly repeating “If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always gotten.” Time to do something new.

  Chapter 7

  Lotty lay next to Ty in his spaceship-themed room. She’d claimed the right side of his bed nearly a year ago when she’d bought him a queen-size mattress. His little body managed to take up two-thirds of the bed as he rolled around and he always had to have his arm on top of her, but it was far more comfortable than the recliner in Aiden’s room where she’d spent many nights before Ty got a big bed.

  The awkwardness of sharing a bed with a husband to whom she could barely speak had forced her to find reasons to sleep in a different room. It wasn’t long before they had a silent understanding that she didn’t have any intentions of sleeping in their bed. However, lately she missed the comfort of their king-size, pillow top mattress and possibly even the comfort of Jason next to her. It was ninety percent the mattress and ten percent Jason. Maybe eighty-twenty.

  Lotty stared at the image projected on Ty’s ceiling. Stars and planets orbited around the central image of the time, one-twenty-three a.m. She pushed Ty back onto his side as she thought about her exhausting day. By five o’clock, she’d been completely burnt out. Jason texted saying he would be at the office all evening, so she’d pulled the boys’ blinds and curtains shut, read them a couple of books and pretended it was bedtime at six o’clock. Although she felt a little guilty, the hours of silence had been worth it. She might change her mind soon though. If the boys slept their normal ten hours they would be up at four. She needed to go back to sleep now or she was going to have another grueling day.

  After another thirty minutes of trying to force her mind to shut off, she got out of bed and went down to the living room. Time to pick a hobby.

  She scrolled through hundreds of pictures that popped up on her home screen. She pushed aside the feelings of failure swirling around inside her as she viewed other people’s masterpieces. A nine-layer cake with each layer a different color, perfectly stitched mermaid tail blankets, beautiful braids to create in five minutes or less, ways to organize a gorgeous Pottery Barn playroom that was nicer than her bedroom, meticulously planned busy bags for toddlers which entertained a three-year-old for seven minutes, but took eighteen hours to create. This wasn’t helping.

  She closed Pinterest and opened Google. When she searched for hobby ideas, there were hundreds of lists.

  A strange tapping sound outside jerked her attention away from her tablet. It was metal tapping on metal. As quickly as it began, it stopped. She shook her head. Of course she was nervous after last week. It was all in her head. There were always sounds outside, but they didn’t usually get to her.

  She turned her attention back to scanning lists and found a few ideas. Gardening might be nice. Sewing would be fun since she could make clothes for the boys. Swimming could be done at the gym and count as exercise. She scribbled a few choices on a sticky note until she had two that stood out from the others: photography and raising chickens. She’d always loved taking pictures and since she lived in the beautiful Northwest, it seemed a great choice. As for raising chickens, she came across several blueprints for building her own chicken coop. Then there were all the wonderful bonuses. She’d get fresh eggs for the family and possibly for the neighbors, it would be a good way to teach the boys about work, and several articles talked about how chicken waste was high in nitrogen, which was great for compost. She may not have a compost bin yet, but if she decided to start gardening, she’d have an advantage already. Besides, she lived in Montana. What sounded more Montanan than raising your own chickens?

  She heard the weird tapping again and held her breath. It was followed by something scraping and then returned to the tapping. She glanced at the front door to make sure it was locked. She let out a tiny breath of relief when she saw it was dead bolted. She moved her head slowly to the side to check the back door. She was certain if she moved too quickly, whatever was making the sound would hear her. She froze as she realized it didn’t matter if the doors were locked. The side of her house was still a gaping hole. It was covered in plastic, but one swipe with a knife could create an entrance.

  She pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and focused on breathing. The sound of her heart beating rang in her ears and her sweaty palms slipped against her legs. Deep breath in. And out. Jason had installed a security system. If anyone was near the house, the motion sensors would be going crazy. No one was breaking in tonight. She buried her face in between her chest and legs and stayed in her safe cocoon.

  The tapping stopped and a car-door slammed. Then a strange swooshing sound filled her ears. Was it something dragging? The sound seemed to be getting closer. Her curiosity bested her fear and she willed herself to lower her legs. She inched toward the front window on shaky hands and knees as every hair on her arms stood. She didn’t trust her unsteady hands so, without moving the blinds, she peeked through the gap between the curtain and the edge of the window.

  She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the night. After staring at her tablet for so long, the world outside appeared jet-black. She strained her eyes, but nothing came into focus. It didn’t usually seem this dark. The moon must be covered by clouds tonight. She crawled into the dining room and lifted the blinds an inch. Though she couldn’t see her driveway from the dining room window, it gave a better view of the houses across the cove. Everything looked normal, albeit dark.

  The spotlight shining on Trinity’s garden statue was the only glimmer in the cove. Lotty had always hated that tacky half-nude effigy, but tonight the Goddess Demeter was radiant. The light reflected off her white body and lit most of the Tuckers’ driveway. Even the black truck parked in between the Tuckers’ house and the Grantham’s house was visible thanks to the topless Greek.

  She strained her eyes to get a better look at the truck. It was a Dodge and she was certain it didn’t belong to anyone in the cove. As she focused on the license plate, a man opened the driver’s side door and looked her way. Terror raced through her veins and she lost her balance and fell backwards. As she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a blast of pain shot across the side of her face, beneath her eye. She forced her eyes open and realized she’d hit the corner of a chair by the wall. Heart racing and face throbbing, she crawled back to the window.

  The man crept across the Tuckers’ yard. If nothing else was strange, the way he moved made him seem suspicious. He skulked along, dodging in and out of trees. She tried to make out defining features, but couldn’t see him clearly. She looked back to the truck and tried to make out the license plate. Too far away. Using the zoom feature on the camera on her tablet, she was able to get a clear picture of the plate. Then she tried to get one of the man, but his constant moving made every picture blurry. If only she’d taken up photography sooner, she would know how to get a clear picture. She switched to video and recorded his movements for several seconds. He grabbed something from behind the tree. Struggling with the weight, he bent down and dragged it, inching slowly toward the garage. Nausea overtook Lotty as she realized what he had. She tried to steady the camera just as he picked up a large rock fr
om the shrub bed, walked over to Demeter and smashed the spotlight. Everything went black.

  Chapter 8

  Jason sat up with a start and smacked into Lotty’s shoulder. Before he could make sense of where he was or what was happening, she pulled him out of bed and onto his feet. “Jason, you have to see this. Please,” Lotty whispered. Her voice was desperate. He staggered along behind her until they reached the doorway. When he touched the light switch, she pushed him away. “No. Don’t draw attention to us,” she begged.

  He grabbed Lotty’s hand. She jumped at the gesture, but didn’t pull away. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  She turned and started down the stairs, mumbling an explanation. “You need to see it. I took some pictures and a video. I called the cops. Maybe they can make sense of it. He was at the Tucker’s house, but also parked near the Grantham’s.”

  Jason allowed himself to be dragged down the stairs behind her, until they reached the bottom. “Lotty, stop.” He pulled her arm until she was facing him. “Why did you call the cops?”

  “The black truck and the man outside and the...he was dragging it somewhere, but I lost him.” Her eyes were closed and she shook her head as she spoke.

  Jason’s pulse quickened. “Okay, there was a man here?”

  Lotty nodded. “Well, not here, here,” she said, pointing to where they stood. “But out there.”

  “And what was he dragging?”

  Lotty opened her eyes and stared at him, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

  “Lotty?”

  She looked away and wrapped her arms around her body as if she were cold. “The body,” she mouthed.

  Chills ran up Jason’s spine. “What body?”

  “I-I don’t know, but I saw it. He was dragging it in the Tuckers’ yard, but then he threw the rock and I couldn’t see.”

  “And you called the cops and told them this?”

  She nodded.

  “Where are they? Shouldn’t they be here by now?” Jason paced back and forth. Was this related to the robbery and arson? Did it have something to do with Lotty and the people writing a threatening message on the wall? He stopped pacing and watched Lotty. Why had she been awake and watching out the window? He wanted to trust her, but...no, he did trust her, didn’t he? Before his mind could continue with questions, Lotty leaned into his arms. His heart raced, but this time it wasn’t because of the man outside. His conflicted feelings disappeared and he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

  Sirens blared in the distance and Lotty stiffened. He wasn’t ready to let go of her, but he loosened his arms. She ran to the window as flashing lights poured into the living room through the gaps. He joined her at the window and watched as the cop car sped into Trinity and Dan’s driveway.

  “How long have the street lights been out?” Jason asked. The cove was eerie without the soft light the two large posts usually provided.

  “I knew it seemed darker than normal,” Lotty said. “I couldn’t figure it out. I thought it must just be clouds or something.”

  The lights from the police car lit the Tucker’s driveway. Two officers got out, guns drawn. However, everything in the cove appeared normal. Jason couldn’t see any extra cars or people lurking about. What if Lotty had just had a nightmare?

  “You’re sure about what you saw?”

  Lotty’s glare answered his question. “I’m going to go see what they’ve found.”

  Lotty was out the door before Jason could protest. He grabbed a jacket and jogged across the street to catch her, but was still several feet away when someone yelled “Stop where you are.” One of the officers stepped around the corner of the house with his gun aimed straight for Jason. Jason threw his arms up as Lotty did the same. A second officer crept out of the shadows of the garage with his gun aimed at Lotty.

  “We’re the Brooks,” Jason yelled. “We live across the street. My wife is the one who called you.”

  The officer pointing his gun at Jason lowered it to his side, but the one by the garage kept his weapon trained on Lotty.

  “Officer Netley,” Lotty said. “I’ve met you twice. I was—”

  “I know exactly who you are,” the tall cop grumbled. “I also know you’ve been in the center of every problem we’ve had lately.”

  Jason let out a sigh of relief as the man holstered the gun.

  “I’m trying to help,” Lotty said as she walked toward the cop car and leaned against it.

  “You’re the one who called us?” the shorter officer asked.

  “Away from the car, Ma’am,” Netley said.

  Lotty’s eyebrows furrowed as she stepped aside. “Yes, I called you.”

  Netley grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed the spot on the car where Lotty had leaned, as if she’d left some filthy mark. Lotty held out her hand to the shorter officer. “I’m Lotty Brooks.”

  “Officer Mue,” the man said, returning the hand shake.

  “So, the body you called about?” Netley asked.

  Lotty took a deep breath. “Yes, the body. There was a man lurking around the yard. He parked his truck right there.” She pointed to the side of the yard. “Then I saw him dragging a body over there.” She pointed to the other side.

  “How could you see with the street lights out?” Netley asked.

  “There was a spotlight over there until the man threw a rock at it.”

  “Hmmm,” he responded.

  “I have a video.”

  “You just happened to get a video? How did you manage that?”

  “I had my iPad with me when I saw him, so I recorded it,” Lotty said. Jason didn’t like the shakiness in Lotty’s voice.

  “She didn’t do anything wrong,” Jason said. “She’s trying to help and you’re treating her like a suspect.” Lotty looked at Jason with eyes full of gratitude, and guilt filled his chest. Minutes ago, he’d been questioning her innocence, but at least he’d kept it to himself.

  “Well, she’s always acting like a suspect,” Netley said, pointing his flashlight directly at Lotty. “What’s that on your face, Ms. Brooks?”

  Jason followed the light to Lotty’s face, where a large red welt covered the right side of her face. He hadn’t noticed it before and he was sure she hadn’t had it before she went to bed.

  Netley continued his rant. “It looks like you’ve been involved in an altercation. Did you get in a fight with someone tonight? Maybe call us here after they made you mad?”

  Lotty let out a sigh and placed her hand on her cheek. “I was spying out the window when I fell backwards and hit my face on the corner of a chair.”

  Netley grumbled something inaudible and held a glare on Lotty.

  Jason couldn’t watch Netley treat her like this. “Okay, well good luck with your investigation,” he said, grabbing Lotty’s hand and pulling her toward their driveway.

  “Netley, get in the car,” Officer Mue instructed. “Please come back and let me see the video,” he hollered to Jason and Lotty.

  Jason squeezed Lotty’s hand and she smiled at him. She took her tablet to the officer and played the video for him and Jason several times. It clearly showed a man dragging a body. Jason tried to imagine Lotty watching this all alone as it happened. Fear wrapped its icy fingers around him as he merely watched a video of it, but to see it as it happened had to be infinitely scarier. He wanted to embrace her, to tell her how amazing she was, but it would seem forced, awkward. Instead he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shivering frame.

  Officer Mue scrolled through the pictures Lotty had taken. Then he took out a flashlight and walked the same trail the man on the video had walked. He squatted down on the ground where the truck had been parked and walked back to Lotty and Jason. “It’s a good thing you have that video. There aren’t any other signs of anything happening here. No tire tracks. No drag marks. No blood.”

  “So now what?” Lotty asked.

  “Well, since the body is gone, we’ll analy
ze that video and pictures and see what we have. If we can get that license number, we’ll start there. Thank you, Mrs. Brooks.” He shook hands with Lotty and Jason and got back in the car.

  They walked back across the street in silence. As they went inside, Lotty asked, “Why does Officer Netley hate me so much?”

  The question didn’t seem directed at Jason. It was more to herself, but he answered anyway. “He seems to hate everyone. The day he was here after the robbery, he had every other cop wanting to shoot him. Brent said he’s brand new here and makes it clear he wishes he were still in Spokane.”

  “Spokane can have him,” she said with a tired smile before walking up the stairs.

  She turned toward Ty’s room. Every time she went in there to sleep, it was like a punch in his stomach. Why couldn’t she sleep in their room? Was he so difficult to be around that she couldn’t handle sleeping in the same bed? He thought of the hundreds of nights they’d laid in bed talking. When the boys had been in bed and there were no other distractions, they’d talked and laughed for hours. She’d helped him with problems at the office and laughed at stories of his incompetent assistant. He’d listened as she told him stories about Ty and the drama in the neighborhood. They’d talked about the future, remodels on their house, and a trip to Switzerland when the boys were a little older. Then they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  He pulled the covers back and got in bed. The ball growing in the pit of his stomach and his aching head told him he needed to think about something else. He tried to think about Gary Schreken and water rights. That would put him to sleep, but within minutes he was back to thinking about her.

  He was lost in thoughts of their trip to Alberta when his door creaked open. He held his breath. All this thinking about Lotty was getting to him. He swore he could see her outline in the doorway, and she was shaking. She quietly shut the door and tiptoed to the edge of the bed. He shut his eyes as she pulled back the covers on her side. It felt like he was seven and it was Christmas morning. He had to focus on stopping the smile that was trying to spread across his face. The thought of having her next to him again had fireworks exploding in his stomach.