Die Before I Wake (29 page)

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Authors: Laurie Breton

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Die Before I Wake
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I removed the cloth from my lip, then hobbled the half mile to the car. The kids were oddly subdued, as if the air had been let out of them and they’d fizzled to the ground. Claudia got the two youngest into their car seats. The rest of us clicked our seat belts. My hip screamed as the car jolted over the bumpy terrain of the field, and then we were on the road and the only sound I heard was the cartoons playing on the backseat DVD player.

When the silence built to the point where one of us had to speak or we’d all go crazy, Claudia said,
sotto voce,
“Don’t even say it. You were right and I was wrong. Do you have any idea how much I hate those words?”

I glanced quickly at the kids in the back, but they were all engrossed in the ongoing adventures of Scooby-Doo. Whispering so they couldn’t hear me, I said, “He knew my name, Claudia. This wasn’t just some random mugging. If he’d wanted my purse, he could have taken it when he ran. But he didn’t. All he wanted was to give me a message.”

“What was the message?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t get a chance to tell me.

I was too busy braining him with Tweety to listen.”

“Wish I could’ve been there to see that.”

“Nobody could see that. It was pitch dark.”

“Clever of you to yell
fire
instead of
help.


Help
wasn’t working. Everybody in there yells for help. People just thought the ghouls were scaring me. I’d have been dead before anybody noticed.” Even then, I thought, they would have just stepped over me and kept on moving, thinking it was part of the act. I turned baleful eyes on her and said, “Never again! Do you hear me? Never, ever again am I going into one of those places. You think my anxiety was bad going in? That’s nothing compared to how it was when I came out, bruised and battered for the second time in two weeks.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t really believe he was following you. I thought you were imagining it.”

“And now? What do you think now?”

“I think you need to talk to Tom.”

“And tell him what? That some strange man who somehow knew my name attacked me in the House of Horror, and I beat him with a giant Tweety Bird until he ran away?”

The corner of Claudia’s mouth twitched, and she struggled to maintain some semblance of sobriety.

“Something rotten is going on here,” she said. “I don’t think you’re safe. I think—” she turned her head to me and studied me somberly. “Somebody’s out to get you.”

“That sounds so melodramatic. So drama-queenish. So—”

“So real?”

“Be serious. Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

She drummed manicured fingertips on the steering wheel as she considered my question. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “But you have to tell Tom.”
Even if I’m afraid he might be behind it?
I hadn’t allowed the thought to take shape until now, but it had been there, lying in wait, like a lioness anticipating her dinner, ready to jump me when I least expected it. The attack hadn’t been random; the man had called me by name. Somebody had been behind it. Who else but a member of the Larkin family? If not Tom, then Jeannette. Or maybe Riley, although why Riley would want to hurt me, I couldn’t imagine.

“Maybe,” Claudia said, thinking aloud, “he was just trying to scare you.”

“Mission accomplished. I think I just got my first gray hair.”

From the backseat, Sadie said, “Julie?” I twisted in my seat until I could see her. “What, honey?”

“Did that bad man want to kill you?” I’d thought the kids couldn’t hear us. Now I wasn’t so sure. Claudia and I exchanged glances and made a silent, mutual vow to change the subject. “No, sweetheart, of course not. I think he just wanted to scare me.”

“Did he scare Tweety?”

“Not at all. Tweety was strong and brave. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a hero.”

When we got home, Tom’s car was parked in the yard. As much as I wanted to postpone the inevitable, I knew it was pointless to try. Even if Claudia hadn’t been gung ho on tattling, I could never have convinced the girls to keep their mouths shut. The fair had been an exciting experience, but the most exciting part, by far, had been my attack in a darkened room by a faceless assailant. So while Tom listened, on his face a look that was a mix of consternation and outright horror, I sat silent, letting Claudia and the kids tell the story. When they were done, and everyone fell silent, Tom sat there, his eyes burning a hole in me. I began to fidget. “Are you all right?” he finally said.

“My hip’s a little sore, and my lip, but other than that—”

“What am I going to do with you, Jules? It’s getting so I’m afraid to let you out of my sight.

You’re a one-woman disaster area. Am I going to have to lock you in the house? Am I going to have to—”

“Tom.”
I frowned, shook my head, and gave him my best “not in front of the kids” look. He glanced at Sadie, Taylor, and Dylan—three pair of curious eyes, watching him—and, catching my train of thought, went silent.

“Listen,” Claudia said, “why don’t I take the girls home with me for a couple of hours? I just rented the new Disney movie, and I have a bag of fish sticks in my freezer with their names engraved on them.” Tom nodded. “Thanks, Claudia,” he said. “You’re a peach.”

When she’d gone, I said, “That was good of her.

Where’s your mother?”

“She and Riley went to the movies.” His words were clipped, and he still wore a grim expression I couldn’t decipher.

“You can stop stewing,” I said. “I didn’t get hurt.”

“That’s not what I’m stewing about. When were you planning to tell me?”

Still preoccupied by the afternoon’s events, I was a little slow at catching up. Vaguely, I said,

“Tell you what?”

“It was a little embarrassing,” he said, “when Sally Nixon congratulated me today, and I didn’t have any idea what she was talking about.”

“Who’s Sally Nixon? Congratulated you about what?” And then I understood, and everything inside me went still.

“Good question, isn’t it? Sally came up to me after the meeting and said she’d heard my wife was pregnant. I almost choked on my coffee. While she stood babbling on, offering her best wishes, I stood there feeling like a fool. Were you planning to tell me at some point, or just wait until I figured it out on my own?”

“I don’t understand. Where did this Sally Nixon person hear that I was pregnant?”

“Her husband’s cousin works at the pharmacy where you filled your prescription for prenatal vitamins. Word gets around fast.”

“That’s confidential information! It’s illegal—

not to mention unethical—to release it!” Wearily, he said, “Welcome to small-town America.” His eyelids looked heavy, his eyes sorrowful. “You haven’t answered my question, Jules.

Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I just found out myself a couple of days ago.” I knew I sounded defensive, and I hated it, but how could I admit the truth, that I hadn’t told him about the baby because I wasn’t sure our marriage had a future? I didn’t want to hear the death knell that ad-mission would surely sound.

I watched my husband pace across the room, and my heart contracted. I’d seen Tom angry, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. But I’d never seen him like this.

Hurt. Bewildered. Scared. “I thought this was what you wanted,” he said. “I thought it was what we’d planned together.”

I bit my lower lip. “I thought so, too.” He stopped pacing long enough to stare at me, and the fury in his eyes made me flinch. “What the hell does that mean?” he said. “That you’re having second thoughts about the baby? Or about being married?”

I raised my shoulders, took a ragged breath, and said through tears, “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeated blankly. “Maybe which?

Maybe you’re not sure you want a baby? Or maybe you’re not sure—” he stopped, took a breath to still the trembling in his voice “—you still want me?”

“Maybe,” I said, “both.”

“Shit, Jules.” He gaped at me in disbelief. “Shit, shit, shit!” He returned to his pacing while I sat there feeling like some kind of monster. Wheeling on me, he said, “I don’t understand. I thought we were happy together. Just you and me, forever. No lies. No bullshit. Just openness and trust. What the hell happened to that?”

“I don’t know, Tom. Maybe you’d like to tell me!”

“Am I supposed to understand that?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, my life hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk these last few weeks. You’re never here. I see more of Claudia than I do of you!

I’m stuck here in this house with your mother, who hates my guts. Your daughter hasn’t been far behind her. I’ve been insulted, injured, and now assaulted.

I’ve been sick for weeks, and your response to that was to turn me into a zombie with your pain pills.

This house is full of secrets and angry silence. You tell me your wife died in an accident, then I find out she killed herself. Or did she? Nobody but her sister has been straight with me. You tell me one thing, Riley tells me something different, until I’m so confused I don’t know who to believe. How many other lies have you told me? How the hell should I even know? In this house, the truth seems to change on a regular basis, depending on whose truth we’re talking about. I’m suffering from headaches and nausea and paranoia. Half the time, I can’t remember my own name, and my damn hair is falling out. I’m scared, Tom. Scared! And you want me to bring a baby into this situation? How can I when I don’t even feel safe here myself?”

“Why haven’t you told me this before?” I gaped at him in disbelief. Didn’t he get it? He was an intelligent, educated man. How could he be so dense? “Don’t you understand?” I said. “I haven’t told you this because I don’t trust you!”

“Jules.” Bewilderment took over his face. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” Even as I said the words, I realized they were true. I just didn’t know what to do about it. Tears swam in my eyes and I considered him through a wet blur. “Maybe,” I said, “love just isn’t enough.”

Bewilderment gave way to anger. I could see it in his eyes, in the suddenly taut lines of his face. “You know what?” he said. “You let me know when you figure that one out. If you’re lucky, I might still be waiting around. But I can’t say for sure. You know how it goes. The wind might blow in a different direction. I could change my mind somewhere along the way.”

“Damn it, Tom, don’t be this way.”

“What way would you like me to be? Because whatever it is that you’re lacking, I’m sure we could figure out a way around it if only I knew what the hell it is you want. You think about it. In the meantime, I have places to go. Things to do. People to see.

Don’t bother to wait up for me. I’ll be late.” I closed my eyes and held back hot tears as he slammed out of the house, started up his car, and shot out of the yard so fast he burned rubber. Only after he was gone did I give in to the tears, and then I cried until my eyes were red and puffy and I looked like Godzilla’s second cousin. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, except that my husband had just walked out the door, and I had no idea if or when he was coming back. Worst of all, it was my fault. I was the one who’d started this debacle. They say the truth will set you free.

But the only person set free by my truth was Tom.

Had I made a mistake? Should I have kept my mouth shut and continued to live in fear? I loved him, but marriage to Tom had not turned out the way I’d thought it would.

Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

“Shut up, Grandma,” I said aloud. “Nobody wants to hear your philosophy right now.” Dinner was a somber affair. The girls were still with Claudia, and Riley had other plans, so it was just Jeannette and me around the dining room table.

“Where’s Tom?” she said. “I thought his meeting was over hours ago.”

“He’s not here.”

“I can see that. But where is he?” I set down my fork. “If you must know, Jeannette, we had a fight. You’re probably delighted to hear that, considering how fond you are of me.”

“That’s unfair. I never said I didn’t like you—”

“Oh, can the act. There’s nobody here but the two of us. You don’t have to lie. I already know you hate me. See how much easier that makes it?” Her nostrils flared. Beneath the pink pantsuit resided the heart of Satan’s spawn. “Regardless of what you believe, Julie,” she said stiffly, “I don’t hate you.”

“Then you give a damn lousy approximation of love.”

“And you’re a spoiled, selfish little girl. God only knows why, but for some reason, my son loves you.

I don’t know what you did or said to drive him away, but I knew it would come to this. You’re all wrong for him, and the sooner he’s rid of you, the better.”

“It might not be that easy.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, hell, I might as well tell you. Everybody else already knows anyway. I’m pregnant.”

“What?”
She looked so distressed, I almost felt bad for her. “It can’t be true.”

“Oh, it’s true. Just ask Sally Nixon. She’ll tell you.”

“Who’s Sally Nixon?”

“Damned if I know. But she managed to tell Tom before I could, thanks to some busybody at the pharmacy who spread my private business all around town.”

“Is that why Tom left?”

“Why he left,” I said, “is none of your business.

Excuse me.” I shoved back my chair, picked up my plate, and carried it to the sink. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

A half hour later, I walked over to Claudia’s and picked up the girls. They were tired and cranky, and determined to stay and watch the rest of their movie.

The argument grew a little heated until Claudia turned off the television and ended it. Neither of them was particularly happy about this turn of events, but they could see it was pointless to argue. Claudia hovered, clearly curious about what had happened with Tom, but I didn’t volunteer any information, and for once in her life, she had the good sense not to ask.

We got bath time over with, and I read the girls a bedtime story before I tucked them in. Taylor slept with Tweety, my hero, who took up half the bed.

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