Tainted Blood

by S S Bazinet

  “Because I think you’re lying.”

  “Lying?”

  Annabel crossed her arms defiantly. “Yes, for some reason you’re evading the truth.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you.”

  Annabel hesitated for a long moment. When she stepped closer, her beautiful, emerald eyes were softer. She put a hand on Arel’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for being so emotional. I know it’s wrong of me to pressure you. It’s just that you’re the only one who understands what William is going through. So I need your help. You know how reserved he can be. He pretends everything is fine when I talk to him.”

  Arel could feel Annabel pulling him in with her earnest tone and explanation. He almost let himself yield to her plea for help. But as he opened his mouth to reply, his past mistakes resurrected themselves. He remembered how many times he’d tried to fix a problem and only made it worse. This time, he had to make a stand. Instead of surrendering, he tried to offer Annabel the only advice that seemed appropriate. “Annabel, remember when you were an angel? Remember how you believed in people and their ability to help themselves? You have to do that now.”

  Annabel instantly stiffened. “Right! And how did that work out for you? You didn’t have a clue about helping yourself. You spent all those years alone and in misery. Now you won’t help William when he’s lost. What kind of friend does that?”

  Before Arel could reply, Annabel turned and ran back up the street. When she reached her home, she ran up the steps, threw open the door, and ran inside.

  Arel followed her back, but he didn’t rush. When he arrived at the property, he took the steps to the porch in a slow, deliberate manner, hoping to understand how things had escalated so quickly with Annabel. When he opened the door to William’s house, William was standing in the foyer, glaring at him.

  “What did you say to Annabel?” William asked in a brusque voice. “She looks very upset.”

  Arel paused, meeting William’s angry stare with a blank expression. “I don’t know. I don’t have an explanation. All that I can say is that I’m going to have to give the idea of a relationship a lot more thought.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Annabel questioned me about the subject, but I don’t think I had the answers she wanted. That seemed to upset her.”

  William’s eyes immediately changed from angry to sympathetic. “Annabel’s take on things can be different, even confrontational.”

  “Maybe you need to talk to her. I think she’s still struggling with a lot of fear.”

  “And what do you suggest I say that’s going to change that?”

  Arel scratched his head, but nothing came to mind. “But you love each other, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then what’s going on, Will? I came here hoping to understand how two people can happily spend their life together, but so far, the whole idea is more puzzling than ever.”

  William returned an annoyed look. “When you find the answer to that one, fill me in.”

  Five

  PEGGY LAY IN bed, thankful that she couldn’t think of anything to worry about. Her family was thriving, and her friends were all in good places in their lives. Even Arel, who had had numerous ups and downs, was doing very well. After his fiasco dating Elise, he’d decided to visit Annabel and William, to enjoy time away with people who were happy with their relationship.

  “At least I hope they’re happy,” she whispered to herself. She hadn’t talked to Annabel for a couple of weeks. However, earlier in the month, all seemed fine when they chatted. Annabel was busy trying out some new hobbies, and William was finishing up a remodeling project.

  Peggy reached over and put a hand on Tim’s slumbering body. He was sleeping so soundly he didn’t even notice. Peggy wished that she could fall asleep too. She was tired after a busy day, but she was still restless.

  Carefully throwing back the cover, she slipped out of bed and went to the window. When she looked next door at Arel’s rancher, there were no lights in the house. Michael and Carey had announced that they’d be away for the weekend. Carey mentioned something about a hiking trip and sleeping outdoors in a tent. The thought of him getting up at dawn and traipsing through the woods all day was fun to ponder, but not something she would relish. Where did the young man get so much energy? When he wasn’t working on his motorcycle, he was calling up Tim and Kevin, inviting them to play an impromptu game of basketball. Michael was the older, calmer type. He loved gardening. Then again, if Carey urged him on, he’d play ball or go hiking too.

  Peggy pressed her forehead to the pane of glass. She just wanted to sleep. Their baby, Sara, was an early riser, and she could be very fussy. If Peggy didn’t get her eight hours, she wouldn’t have the energy she needed to keep up with the baby’s demands.

  She was about to turn away and go back to bed when she noticed a movement in the yard next to Arel’s. On closer inspection, Peggy’s sleep-deprived eyes instantly went wide with irritation. Elise was standing out on her sidewalk, puffing away on a cigarette. It was a bit of a surprise. Peggy didn’t remember Arel mentioning that Elise smoked.

  With a censuring shake of her head, Peggy closed the blinds. As she returned to bed, she offered a prayer of thanks that the horrible woman was no longer a part of Arel’s life. Her sense of relief was enough to make her shoulders relax as she got back under the cover. As she began to feel the first hints of sleepiness take over, she also sent out a heart-felt request into the ethers. “Listen up all you helper angels. Please assist Arel in finding a wonderful woman, one who’ll make his heart sing.”

  * * * * *

  Elise threw the cigarette down on the sidewalk and used her foot to rub out its seductive life. When she was especially unhappy, cigarettes called to her with promises they never kept. At least her smoking sprees didn’t last long, usually a couple of weeks. They were long enough for her to get a grip on whatever emotional turmoil upset her life. The current upset revolved around Arel. She hadn’t seen him for days in spite of the fact that her side window was a great observation portal. She told herself that the chair she’d placed there caught the light she needed to go over her current manuscript. Her self-deception didn’t go very far, but it was better than admitting that she was spying on him.

  When she went back inside, she stopped in front of the foyer mirror. A hardened, bitter woman with sad eyes stared back at her. “What’s happened to me?” she groaned.

  She hadn’t always looked so pathetic. Recently, she’d gone through some old photos. The ones from her first year in college pictured a sweet, pretty girl who had lots of blond hair and bright, blue eyes. Her hopes and dreams were shining through. “I was such an optimist, even after a crappy childhood.”

  She turned away from the mirror and quickly walked to the kitchen. Besides cigarettes, food could be comforting. She’d had emotional lows after break-ups before, but this one was the worst. Something told her that she’d driven away the best guy she’d ever meet. “But I didn’t have a choice,” she insisted.

  She went directly to the cupboards and scoured the shelves. Her staples were gone. Earlier in the evening, she’d finished the last of the chips. The oatmeal raisin cookies were reduced to a few crumbs, and the container of assorted nuts was empty. The situation was borderline critical. Her loneliness was peaking, and she needed something to make it go away.

  The feeling was there before she’d met Arel, but she’d had ways of dealing with it besides food. She wrote books. By filling page after page with scenes of fictional romance, she could forget reality. She lived in a make-believe world where she was in charge and love triumphed in ways that she arranged.

  Everything had changed when she moved next door to Arel. The charming man was a perfect example of the sexy, romantic hero she described in her books. Suddenly, all her imaginary men paled in comparison to a flesh and blood version of a partner she’d once longed for.

  When Arel asked her
out, she should have refused to see him. Experience told her that dreams could turn into nightmares. But she couldn’t stop the way her body felt when he was near. All of her deep yearnings surfaced. After years of denying her needs, they wanted gratification in the worst kind of way.

  She’d been weak and gone out with Arel, but in the end, she did what was best. “I just have to get through this break-up period, and then I’ll be fine.”

  She was paying the price for letting her heart get involved again. That part was persistent. It was still hanging on to the idea of a relationship. She prayed that the refrigerator would offer something to subdue her longings. She bent over, desperately searching its shelves. There was nothing there. As usual, she hadn’t wanted to go shopping. Now all her food supplies were gone. Almost shaky with anxiety, she remembered the cheese drawer. “Please, there’s got to be something I can eat.” Nothing.

  As she was about to close the door, she saw an item she’d missed on its lowest shelf. “No! I will not drink syrup. That’s going too far.”

  Even as she made the announcement she was reaching for the bottle. An image came to mind. She was like some wino in a dark alley, a broken person who had no self-respect, only a need to blot out their life. The picture was so horrible that she put the syrup back and closed the door.

  As she pushed herself away from the appliance, she thought about going to an all-night grocery. She’d stock up on some healthy foods and make herself adopt a stricter diet. She was about to change out of her robe and pajamas when she saw a manuscript sitting on the counter.

  The black binder held a work in progress that would never be seen by the public. It was Elise’s own story. She’d wanted to explore the events and people who had shaped her life. Maybe it would help her to understand herself, and how she’d lost faith in just about everything. Clutching the binder to her chest, she returned to the living room.

  Once she was seated on the sofa, she slowly paged through the chapters. None of them were complete, but at least she’d made a start. Her finger stilled when she reached the last one that she’d been working on. She read the chapter heading aloud, “Jack.”

  As soon as she said the name, she winced, as if the man she’d once loved could still hurt her. She could see his face etched in anger, ready to discipline her for stepping out of line. After a couple of breaths, she came back to the moment and threw the manuscript on the coffee table. Another smoke break was in order. She snatched up her pack of cigarettes and headed for the front door. A person didn’t face years of misery without some kind of crutch.

  She almost made it to the door when the empty feeling hit again. Her life was meaningless. The few friends who remained barely communicated. She was lucky to get a half dozen Christmas cards. She never talked to her parents or her sister. There was no one she could confide in. She hated to admit it, but she was truly alone in the world. “Oh hell, I need that syrup after all.”

  A few minutes later, after swallowing several ounces of liquid sucrose, she was standing outside, lighting up a cigarette. The first puff was helpful. As she exhaled, she felt calmer. With the cigarette held close, like her only friend, she began to think about working on the manuscript again. She’d already written about her childhood and what a disappointment she was to her father. She’d also started to explore her teen and college years. She couldn’t believe how easily she’d given away her body along with her self-respect. It was a reckless time in her life, completely lacking in good judgment.

  She took a long drag on her cigarette. The next part of her life was even more painful. It involved her relationship with Jack. Her friends took one look at him and told her he was a keeper. She’d felt the same way. She worshiped the handsome man, and he knew it. He took advantage of her devotion. The guys in college might have taken liberties with her body, but Jack knew how to undermine her heart, the core of who she was.

  “Why? Why did I let him do what he did?” Her stomach tightened as she remembered times when a disapproving look could make her feel so small that she couldn’t speak. She didn’t dare tell her friends about the side of Jack that got off on abuse. Besides, she didn’t have many friends after a while. Jack made sure to keep her to himself. After her relationship with Jack ended, others took his place.

  “They were all like you, Dad,” she whispered.

  Maybe that was the clue. When she finished her smoke and went back inside, she’d study the facts about her childhood again. She’d try to understand why she still carried so much emotional baggage over events that happened years before. “I should be writing mysteries, not romances,” she hissed as she flicked the long ash off her cigarette. That’s what her life felt like, a depressing mystery she couldn’t solve.

  She was about to extinguish her cigarette when a clap of thunder and another bout of queasiness hit at the same time. She held a hand to her stomach and checked the sky. A storm was moving in fast. A sudden gust of cold wind tore at her robe and her hair. Her nausea seemed to be escalating just as quickly. Holding on to her robe, she remembered her father’s face when she’d come home for a visit. He’d had no compassion for what she’d gone through. His words still played out loud and clear in her mind. “Men aren’t your problem, Elise. You’re the problem.”

  His condemnation was like the storm. She couldn’t change her father’s opinion any more than she could control the weather. She couldn’t stop the onset of a pounding headache either. Her emotions and her body were ganging up on her as heavy drops of rain quickly turned into a downpour.

  Before she had a chance to run into the house, she knew she was going to be sick. For an instant, she welcomed the idea of throwing up. She needed to empty herself of everything she hated about herself. She threw her cigarette aside and tried to get the hair out of her eyes as her stomach lurched.

  Her father had once questioned her common sense. “How can I be proud of a daughter who doesn’t know how to come in out of the rain?” She didn’t have an answer. The stormed raged around her as she fell to her knees and threw up on the grass.

  * * * * *

  Peggy woke up to the sound of thunder. Rain was pelting the window. She couldn’t believe that Tim could sleep through the storm. For a second time that night, she got up, opened the blinds and stared out. Her gaze traveled across Arel’s property and beyond. “That’s strange,” she whispered. The street light was giving off enough illumination for her to see someone on Elise’s lawn. “Oh my, Elise is out in the rain.”

  Peggy hesitated for only a brief moment. Then she turned back to the bed. “Tim, honey, wake up!”

  Tim groaned. “What? What’s happening? Is it Sara?”

  “No, it’s Elise. I think she needs help.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know. She’s out on her lawn on her hands and knees.”

  “She’s what?” Tim got out of bed and shuffled over to the window. “Why is Elise out in the rain?”

  “I think she’s in trouble. And this rain is coming down hard.”

  “I’ll go check on her,” Tim said with a yawn.

  Peggy shook her head. “No, normally I’d agree, but something tells me that she needs a woman to help her.”

  “Is that your intuition talking?”

  Peggy frowned. “Unfortunately, it is. I better get my raincoat and umbrella.”

  * * * * *

  Elise couldn’t remember when she’d felt so sick. But she shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d eaten tons of junk food and washed it down with beer and syrup. A pounding headache added to her woes. So did the rain. It was coming down in driving sheets. She tried to get up, but she couldn’t stop dry heaving long enough to get to her feet. Fortunately, she wasn’t alone for long.

  She lifted her eyes enough to see feet running towards her. She glanced up and saw Arel’s neighbor, Peggy. The woman stopped and held an umbrella over her. Then there were two more feet stopping at her other side. Then there were voices.

  “Tim, what are
you doing here?” Peggy yelled out.

  Tim shouted out his answer. “I want to help, too!”

  Elise was mortified. Both of her neighbors, people she’d insulted, had come to her aid. She didn’t know how to respond. Before she could say anything, Tim leaned down and told her that everything was going to be okay. Not only that, but he picked her up. It was such an unexpected kindness that she started crying. She found herself clinging to his jacket and bawling away as he rushed her inside the house.

  Once they were in the foyer, Tim and Peggy became a team. Peggy got some towels and quickly lined the sofa. When Tim put Elise down on the couch, he did it carefully, letting her know she was in good hands. Elise collected herself enough to start apologizing. “Sorry you had to come out—”

  Tim and Peggy were both dripping from the rain, but they ignored their own discomfort. They put aside their own needs to tend to her, the horrible person who lived two doors down. In her fragile emotional state, their unselfishness was overwhelming, something she didn’t deserve. She’d been at her worst when she’d seen them last. The thought of all her ugliness sickened her, like the bile in her throat. Without any warning, she began to vomit again, retching so violently she thought she’d pass out.

  Peggy grabbed a nearby trash can for her to use. She also tried to hold back Elise’s hair. Luckily, Elise didn’t have much left inside. After the bout was over, she laid back again. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her head continued to feel like it was splitting in two. She closed her eyes, hoping the pain would let up before too long.

  * * * * *

  After getting Elise settled, Peggy quickly sent Tim home in case little Sara woke up. Elise fell asleep shortly after he left. Peggy decided to stick around for a while. Elise had acted so out-of-character that Peggy was worried about her. What could have happened to make the stiff, unemotional woman fall apart like she had?

  When Peggy inspected Elise’s home for signs of some physical disturbance, the house seemed neat and orderly. The living room décor was pleasant. Traditional furniture dominated the room. Muted browns and pale greens in the upholstery and throw pillows softened the look. Only the coffee table sported clutter. There were a couple of unwashed cups and a glass. Peggy automatically walked over to take them to the kitchen. As she leaned down, she noticed what looked like part of a manuscript. It was opened to Chapter Five.