His Muse's Fidelity

by Linnea May

  That is why she instantly catches my eye. A middle-aged woman, dressed in a worn down fur coat and with a rather ridiculous looking bonnet on her head that does not match the coat at all. Her face is heavily painted with thick and bright lipstick and blue eyeshadow. Her extravagant appearance is almost comical.

  She is lingering next to the entrance and looks at me as I approach the door. Her sunken eyes widen when she catches sight of me as if she has been waiting for me. She scares me a little, and I suddenly hate the fact that Craig drove off so quickly without making sure that I got inside the building safely.

  Then again, there has never been a reason to worry before, and there might be none tonight.

  The woman diverts her eyes from me and turns around searching for something in her purse, a small, violet shoulder bag that only adds to her eccentric look. She appears to have lost any interest in me. Maybe I misread her gaping look when she first saw me. She might have confused me with someone else. Or she has been equally startled to spot another person as I was.

  I make my way to the door and am just about to open it with my card when she turns around again, facing me.

  “Excuse me,” she says in a hoarse voice that seems to have been broken by a lot of screaming or smoking.

  I pause, instinctively clutching my bag.

  “Yes?” I reply.

  She comes closer, and I cannot help but take a step back as she threatens to intrude into my personal space. She notices my move and comes to a halt.

  “Excuse me, Miss,” she repeats. “Do you live here?”

  The smart thing to do now would be to tell her that that is none of her business. Or ask her why she wants to know that.

  But I have never been very quick-witted in situations like these, so my reply comes out as a reflex answer.

  “Yes… well, sort of,” I utter helplessly.

  “Huh,” she says, scanning me from head to toe.

  She is a good deal shorter than me, and not to mention, older and most likely not as fit or strong as me. But her weird appearance suggests that she might not be playing with a full deck. And if she happens to have a gun or some other kind of weapon in her odd, violet purse, then there is very little I could do about it if she intends to hurt me for whatever reason.

  “So, you live here now,” she says, still seemingly confused. “Interesting.”

  I don’t get a chance to clarify why exactly that could be of any interest to her because she turns around and quickly walks away just after finishing her assessment.

  I remain at the door and watch her leave the premises. She doesn’t turn back once.

  Chapter Eleven

  As odd and scary as the encounter was, I completely forget about the woman and never mention her to Cedric. She is still on my mind by the time he arrives home but gets quickly cast aside by his presence and his troubles.

  He comes home just a few minutes after me, angry and exhausted because his publisher wants him to do even more appearances, which - according to his publisher - Cedric is obliged to go through with because they are stated as duties in his current contract.

  “I hate marketing,” he sighs. “I hate all of this. Why can’t they just leave me alone? The book is out. I have been running around talking to people and showing my face all over for weeks now. I need to get back to writing.”

  He is sitting on the sofa as I hand him a drink. Whisky on ice, his favorite. It is the closest I can come to being a domestic girlfriend because I still haven’t picked up cooking. We are still ordering in pretty much every meal we share.

  Cedric never asked me to cook, and I feel kind of silly for it, but a little part of me wishes that I could do that for him. I mean, I could still learn to do it, but the will is just not strong enough yet.

  When he asks me about my day, I spare him the details about my boring job and don’t even think about telling him about that weird encounter. Instead, I just cuddle up next to him on the sofa and amuse myself with staring at him as he involuntarily dozes off in my arms.

  ~~~

  The weekend passes without a renewed appearance of the strange lady. I catch myself looking out for her every time Cedric and I leave the house, but she is never to be seen, so I stop thinking about her completely.

  It is just then, almost a week after our first encounter, that I am confronted with her for a second time.

  Again, it is while I am alone. Cedric left early in the morning to go out of town for a library opening that asked for his attendance. I wanted to go with him, even though I had no real desire to be out there again, having to endure another reception, another round of speeches and a lot of waiting and standing around.

  I would have done it for him.

  But he convinced me to stay home because the trip will be short and boring, and he will be back by evening anyway. It is a Saturday, and I have been working all week, so I don’t mind having a day to myself to just relax.

  I have plans to go back to my place for a while to clean up a few things and feed my poor plants. However, I would have to take a cab or take public transport, because Craig is with Cedric. This strongly weakens my incentive to go home today.

  Instead, I decide to go for a run after Cedric has left. There is a park nearby through which Cedric and I have taken quite a few walks, and it is also not my first time running there. It is a beautiful late fall day with crisp air and the sun shining, perfect conditions for a good run.

  I am heading outside in wide, enthusiastic steps about to prepare put in my earphones and switch on my music when I see her.

  She is standing right next to the entrance again wearing the same fur coat and bonnet but a different lipstick. It is darker today, blood red. Her eyes are painted with that excessive dark blue eyeshadow again, and she holds the same violet purse clutched against her side.

  Our eyes meet for a moment, but I quickly turn away in a hurry to get away from her and start my run.

  However, she won’t let me.

  “You are a beautiful Missy, aren’t you?” she says with that scary, hoarse voice.

  I freeze and turn around, standing about ten feet away from her.

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “What a pretty face,” she says, approaching me. “Just as he likes them.”

  I instinctively take a few steps back to not let the distance between us grow any smaller, causing her to stop moving.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” she says. “I don’t want to harm you.”

  “What do you want then?” I ask. “You know, this building has security, I could call someone any moment.”

  Well, that is a lie. There is security, but those guys only work during nights and are never seen during the daytime, and I couldn’t call anybody even if I wanted to because I don’t have my phone with me.

  But she wouldn’t know that now, would she.

  “Like I said,” she continues. “I don’t want to harm you, pretty girl. So there’s no need for security.”

  I look at her for a moment narrowing my eyes. I don’t know if I am trying to look intimidating or if I just want to let her know that she is not giving the best impression of herself right now.

  “How can I help you then?” I hiss. “I’m kind of in a hurry and-”

  “Oh, you should have time for this,” she interrupts. “You are Cedric’s little Missy, aren’t you?”

  A cold clasp closes around my heart at the mention of his name. Who is this woman?

  I frown at her.

  “Who are you?” I ask. “And what do you want?”

  She smiles at me, a smile that could almost be called loving and sweet if it wasn’t coming from a creepy little figure like her.

  “Oh, I know Cedric well,” she says. “Better than anyone, really. Has he never mentioned me?”

  I don’t deign her with a reply. This whole situation is becoming more and more unpleasant for me. She doesn’t exactly threaten me or appear as she was about to do so, but her presence is so uncomfortable as if she was radi
ating badness.

  “Well, I guess it serves me right,” she sighs. “After all, it’s what a caring and loving mother deserves, right? To be deserted by her husband and her only son.”

  My jaw drops, and I inhale audibly at her revelation.

  Mother?

  Chapter Twelve

  “You… you are his mother?” I clarify. My voice is trembling, and I speak in a silly high-pitched tone.

  She smiles again and nods. “Yes, dear. I raised this boy, and I am here to warn you about him.”

  I furl my eyebrows and slowly shake my head. She must be lying. Cedric told me that his mother had moved away from the city and lived on the other side of the country. They haven’t spoken in years. He never showed me a picture of her, but for some reason, I imagined her to look completely different. Despite all the things he told me about her, I always imagined a dark haired and faint looking woman in unobtrusive clothes. Darkened and weakened by her poor experiences with men and the depression that has taken a hold of her. Not the eccentric parrot that is standing in front of me.

  She must be lying.

  “I don’t believe you,” I say. “I don’t know who you are or how you know Cedric, but you cannot be his mother.”

  My words don’t come out as self-confident as I would want them to. The truth is, I don’t know what to believe. I wish that she’s lying. I don’t want her to be his mother.

  But she might be.

  “Oh, dear,” she says, still smiling and softly shaking her head. “I fear you will have to believe me, even though I cannot prove myself to you.”

  “You could,” I say. “What is your name?”

  If she was just some crazy fan of Cedric, she wouldn’t know the answer to that one. Cedric has never spoken of his mother in public, and he certainly never mentioned her name.

  “Evelyn Brooke,” she says. “It used to be Crow, as you might have imagined, but I went back to my maiden name after Cedric’s sperm donor, that abusive, crazy man left me. Us. He left me and his son.”

  I gulp. That is the name Cedric told me. And even if she wasn’t his mother, she must be someone who is or was close to Cedric if she knows that name.

  Or I might just have to accept that she is not lying. That this eerie person is who she claims to be. Cedric’s mother.

  That still doesn’t explain why she is here now, though. Or what she might want from me.

  “Alright,” I say, trying to sound confident. “If you want to talk to Cedric, he is not home. Why don’t you just call instead of creeping up on me like this-”

  “Because I don’t want to talk to my ungrateful son,” she interrupts. “I want to talk to you. Like I said, Missy. I want to warn you. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into with this… this bastard-”

  “Hey!” I yell. Hearing her insult Cedric triggered some kind of alarm within me. It is wrong. She is wrong. For all I know, she is an awful, out of her mind person who has absolutely no right to talk about Cedric the way she does. Mother or not.

  “Don’t you dare call him that,” I hiss, now taking a step towards her. Unlike me, she is not fazed by this approach and stays put despite my aggressive move.

  “And stop calling me Missy,” I add, raising my index finger in front of her face.

  She snorts and shakes her head.

  “Wrapped around his finger, aren’t you?” she says. “Just like the other poor little creatures whose lives he destroyed.”

  She looks up at me through her dark, watery eyes. It is the first time that I see a resemblance between her and Cedric. Their eyes. They are of the same color, and they carry the same kind of sadness in them. An overshadowing disappointment that has marked them for the rest of their lives.

  “He didn’t destroy any lives,” I object. “If anyone is to blame for something like that, it is you. You were wrong; he did tell me about you. He told me everything. And from what I know, I don’t think you even deserve to call yourself a mother.”

  Now she is the one frowning at me and gasping with indignation.

  “Oh my God, the lies he must have told you!” she shrieks. “What have I done to deserve this? A cruel husband and his evil spawn as a spiteful son!”

  She pauses and comes closer to me, raising her hand.

  “And you,” she says, trying to touch my face, but I escape her touch just in time.

  “You poor little thing. Manipulated by his dark soul, his evil ways of making women dance for him as his puppets. Oh, you poor little thing…”

  She tilts her head to the side and casts me a pitiful look.

  I take another step back. She frightens me, and I feel poisoned by her aura.

  “Ma’am, you are out of your mind-”

  “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, young girl,” she interrupts again. “I know what I am talking about. I know this boy better than anybody, I raised him - well, I tried to. I tried my best to make him an honest man, a good man, to not let his father’s evil traits shine through as he grew older. But it was too late. The boy couldn’t be saved, and now I am responsible for what he does to others. He has excluded me from his life, shut down any advice I was still to give him, any guidance, he is a lost cause. And he drags others down with him, destroying women’s lives with his promises, his stinking wealth, his evil nature and abusive-”

  “Shut up!” I yell at her. “Stop it now! I don’t know what is wrong with you or why you feel the need to attack me like this, but-”

  “Attack?!” she gasps. “But girl, I am in no way attacking you! I have been waiting here patiently. Waiting for a moment to catch you alone, without him. I want to help you!”

  “I don’t think I need your help,” I note, withdrawing from her.

  “So, you prefer to become another victim of my promiscuous son and his seductive ways?” she asks. “Don’t you even want to know what I am trying to protect you from? You seem like a smart girl, but maybe not smart enough. A beautiful girl. Brown hair, light skin, delicate frame. The perfect victim, his perfect choice. He has had hundreds of girls like you! Hundreds, I tell you! And he has betrayed every single one of them. Abusing their trust, living out his revolting nature on their bodies and souls.”

  She comes closer, raising her index finger like I did before.

  “He has destroyed them,” she adds. “Destroyed every single one of them. And who do you think they come to after he is done with them? Me, that’s right. They come to blame me! Blame me for raising such a broken creature, until they hear the truth. Until they hear what he has done to me!”

  “Done to you?” I ask. “What has he done to you that was so unjust after the way you treated him? Who needs a mother like you around?”

  “That is what I am talking about,” she says. “Lies! Nothing but lies! Locked away he had me! Imprisoning his own mother so she cannot interfere with his wrongdoings and ongoing lies. But I tell you now, you’re the lucky one! The first girl I can save before it’s too late! You just need to listen to me, young girl!”

  I shake my head. This is getting out of hand. I hastily look around, scanning my surroundings for other people. But of course, there is no one there who could come to my rescue.

  “Listen to me,” she repeats. “He is just like his father. He will seduce you, gain your trust, fake his love for you. And then he will impregnate you, promising you a perfect future, a perfect family. And that’s when he will disappear, leave you alone with his evil spawn. He has no other interest than to plant his rotten seed wherever he-”

  “Shut up!” I interrupt her spiteful hate speech. “What you’re saying is disgusting. How can you talk about your own son like this? Don’t you feel ashamed of yourself?”

  She shakes her head.

  “No, girl, I am not the evil one in this game,” she hisses. “He is. This man, my son. He has no heart, no interest for love. A man like him cannot love; he can just ravage the people around him. People close to him. People who trust him, like you do.”

  She starts wal
king forward again, and I instantly jump aside, trying to avoid any contact with her She walks right past me, showing no attempt to touch me or come closer to me. Instead, it appears as if she is finally doing me the favor of going away and leaving me alone.

  I remain standing in the driveway, my eyes following her as she slowly walks away. Today, she does turn back to me one more time before leaving the premises.

  She turns around, looking at me with dark eyes across her shoulder.

  “You will see,” she says. “She that will not hear must feel.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

  “I didn’t think anything of it,” I explain. “I thought she was just some crazy, confused lady who wouldn’t show up again. How was I supposed to know that she was your mother?”

  Cedric lifts his arms and lets his hands run through his hair, placing them at the back of his head as he continues to walk up and down in front of the panoramic window in his living room.

  He just came back from his trip a few minutes earlier, and I had planned to spare him the ugly details of his mother’s visit, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was hard enough not to contact him during the day. He is still dressed in his suit from the day. I didn’t even give him a chance to change and settle for a few minutes before I sprung the bad news at him. Now that I see him distraught like this, I wish I had waited at least a little longer.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have put this on you right now; it was just that-”

  “No,” he interrupts. “It’s okay. You should have told me earlier, so I could have done something about this.”

  “Done something about it?” I ask. “What could you have done? She was waiting outside the building for me, waiting just for me. She might have been there during this entire week, hiding in the bushes or something… but she obviously didn’t want to be seen by you.”

  “Yes,” he agrees. He pauses for a moment and shakes his head in frustration. “Fuck! I should have known this!”