Ellie is dealing with her parents' deaths and an abusive boyfriend. |
Ellie’s finger hovered over the “1” button on her phone. She had dialed the “9” and the first “1” as soon as the car had pulled into her driveway. Her heart pounded in her ears as the car stopped. In the dark, with the headlights shining into the window, she couldn't tell who was out there. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the car reversed and drove off into the night. Ellie released the breath she’d been holding and set the phone back on its base. Maybe he won’t come back tonight, she thought. She moved away from the front window, double-checked the lock on the front door, and then walked to the kitchen in the back of the house. Collapsing into one of the old cast-iron chairs, she picked up the ice pack she’d dropped when she had heard the car. She swiped her blond hair out of the way with a shaky hand and pressed the pack against her cheek, wincing at the cold. Looking around the table at the empty chairs, Ellie wished for the thousandth time that her parents were still here. How many times had she come to visit them in their comfy, if outdated, kitchen? Now, she sat there alone, the owner of a house she’d never wanted. Boxes still sat in the corners, waiting to be unpacked after her quick move two weeks earlier. She hadn’t been able to muster the motivation to go through them. “Why?” she whispered to the empty room. “Why?” The next morning, Ellie crawled out of bed, trying to avoid looking at herself in the mirror. She showered, careful not to touch the bruises, letting the heat of the water soothe the ache. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kevin’s face, sneering, angry. She tried to push the image out of her mind and quickly got dressed. She didn’t want to be late for her appointment. The drive into town took about twenty minutes. Ellie switched radio stations several times, trying to find something to cheer her up. None of the visits to her parents’ lawyer had been enjoyable, and she wanted to bolster her spirits as much as possible. She finally settled on some bouncy oldies music. By the time she pulled into the parking space in front of the office, she felt a lot better. The secretary sat at a large oak desk just inside the entrance of the nondescript office building. She looked up as Ellie walked in, and her face changed from a pleasant smile of greeting to a look of horror. “Miss Wells, are you okay?” she gasped. Ellie’s hand immediately flew to her bruised cheek. She had completely forgotten to use any makeup. She feigned an unconcerned shrug. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I walked into a door.” The secretary seemed unconvinced. “Are you sure? Maybe you should see a doctor.” Ellie shook her head. “No, Janet, really, I’m fine. Just clumsy.” Janet raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She brushed a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear and opened up an appointment book on the desk in front of her. “He’s ready for you,” she said, nodding toward a door to her left. “Thanks,” Ellie replied, walking quickly to the closed door. She tapped twice, opened the door and walked through. The office seemed almost as familiar as her own home. A heavy wooden desk sat near a picture window, and in front of it two brown leather chairs waited for clients to sit and relax. Ellie never felt relaxed here. She wouldn’t even be here if her parents were still alive. She swallowed hard against the lump that threatened to rise in her throat. “Miss Wells, please.” The lawyer gestured to one of the leather chairs without looking up from the papers in front of him. “Thank you,” Ellie said and quickly sat down. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that we’re almost done with all this mess.” He finished scribbling something on a notepad and looked up at her. The smile faded from his face. Ellie anticipated the next question. “It’s fine, Mr. Thorn. Just an accident. I’m fine.” He nodded slowly, his eyes burning holes through her until she squirmed. “Well, then,” he continued, clearing his throat, “I’ve been able to locate several other assets in your father’s name. There are some stocks, and several certificates of deposit. I just need your signature on a few forms.” He slid the papers across the desk toward her. Ellie shuffled through the paperwork, then scrawled her signature in all the designated spots. Mr. Thorn had been her father’s lawyer. If he had trusted the man, so did she. She pushed the completed forms back to him. “What else is there?” she asked. “I’ve managed to get you out of your lease,” he said. “That should be good news. I mean, now that you own a house. Your landlord will be sending your security deposit in the mail within a month.” She smiled thinly. “Yes, good news.” What she wouldn’t have given to be living back in that tiny one-bedroom apartment. To have everything back to the way it had been. “Of course,” Thorn continued, “there’s still the matter of the insurance money, but I’ll call you when I hear from the company.” “Thank you.” Ellie waited while Mr. Thorn flipped through an open file folder in front of him. Finally, he looked up at her again. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked. She felt as though he was staring at the bruise on her cheek. “Um, did you get a chance to look over the contract the publisher sent?” “Oh, yes, so sorry!” He shook his head, silently scolding himself, and began rooting through the papers and file folders in front of him. Ellie noticed his dark brown hair had thinned significantly on the crown of his head. She hadn’t remembered that about him. But of course, she hadn’t seen him much before— “Ah, here it is! Yes, I’d say they’ve given you an exceptional offer. You should sign. Unless you’ve gotten another offer you want me to look at?” Ellie shook her head. “No, just that one. Thank you for looking over it for me.” She took the contract from Thorn’s hand and stood to go. “Thank you for coming in, Miss Wells. I’ll be in touch.” “Thank you, Mr. Thorn.” She turned and left the office, walking quickly out before Janet could corner her again. The day promised to be warm and breezy, perfect for early spring. Ellie climbed back into her car and started it, quickly switching off the music that now seemed too loud, too cheerful for her mood. It seemed unreal that she should be an orphan at twenty-six. Her parents were supposed to be there for her, to share their wisdom, to lend their shoulders for her to cry on. Instead, the two people she could turn to in any situation were gone, leaving her to figure it all out on her own. She drove to the post office, picked up an express envelope, and quickly stuffed her signed publishing contract into it. What should have been a joyful occasion, her first published book, held no joy. She had no one to share it with, no one else in the world that cared. A single tear fell on the envelope and she swiped it away before taking it to the clerk to pay for postage. As she pulled into the driveway of her parents’ house – no, her house, she corrected herself – she noticed the moving van. The neighboring house had been empty for months. The “For Sale” sign had long since fallen over. Ellie remembered her mom speculating about what might be wrong with the house. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few skeletons in the closets over there,” Mrs. Wells had said. “Actual skeletons.” “What makes you say that?” Ellie asked with a giggle. “That woman never left her house. She had everything delivered. And she didn’t even own any cats! Who ever heard of an old widow woman who doesn’t own cats?” Ellie shook her head in amusement. “Maybe the house is haunted,” she said in a spooky voice, “Nothing would surprise me at this point,” her mom replied. “I’m just waiting for the Addams family to move in.” Ellie didn’t see anyone at the moment. She swung the car around behind the house and pulled into her parents’ garage, a detached structure sitting about twenty feet behind the house. Their new sedan sat gathering dust in the other bay. They’d been driving their older car when the accident happened. She sighed, realizing she’d forgotten to ask Mr. Thorn about selling the car again. Well, she thought, it’s not urgent. She walked in through the back kitchen door and, like every time she had entered this house lately, a wave of memories assaulted her. She could see her mother standing by the stove, her long blond hair pulled up in a bun, stirring her famous pasta sauce. Her father sat at the table, the newspaper folded open in front of him. She could almost smell the strong coffee he would have been drinking, no matter the time of day. It seemed cruel of her parents to dictate that she would have to sell this house if she didn’t live in it. She had to sell off her memories, or be haunted by them day and night? What kind of a choice was that? Ellie tossed her purse on the kitchen table and picked up the phone receiver to check for messages. A stuttering dial tone told her she had voice mail. She quickly dialed the access number and waited to hear her messages. “Ellie,” Kevin’s voice said, “baby, I’m so sorry. Please call me.” The message ended and she punched the delete button before hanging up. Her hand shook as she set the phone down. How could he think she wanted anything more to do with him after last night? She closed her eyes, saw his fist flying toward her in a blur, and opened her eyes again to chase away the image. She busied herself making a pot of coffee. Usually by this time of day she’d already had two or three cups. She had joked with her mother that her entire novel had been written on caffeine. Now the smell of the brewing coffee comforted her, brought something familiar and normal into the room. Ellie knew her parents would be shocked at Kevin’s sudden show of violence. From the first time she’d brought him here to meet them, they had been impressed with his politeness and the respect he had shown them. She had loved the way they warmed up to him, the way her father had started calling him “son.” Certainly, things had been different since the day she collapsed into his arms, sobbing the news that her parents had been killed. He had been her rock. She shook her head. What she had done to cause Kevin to lash out at her last night, she had no idea. When the coffee finished brewing, Ellie poured herself a cup and went out to the front porch, still wearing the white cotton dress she’d donned for her earlier appointment. She stepped carefully to avoid splinters in her bare feet and sat down in the creaking porch swing. The swing happened to face her new neighbor’s house and she was inwardly excited to see some activity over there. Two burly men in coveralls were carrying a cream-colored sofa into the house. She heard one of them talking to someone inside. “Where do you want this, mister?” A muffled voice answered, and the two men maneuvered the rest of the way through the front door. They re-emerged a moment later and retrieved a box apiece from the back of the van. Ellie looked back toward the front door and saw a man emerge. His short-cropped blond hair accentuated the chiseled angles of his square jaw, and brought out the piercing blue of his eyes, which Ellie could see even at this distance. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans, clearly dressed for the manual labor of moving day. Out of curiosity, she tried to get a look at his ring finger, but couldn’t quite see it. He might be single, or he might be married with ten kids. Either way, she thought, he’s gorgeous. The man walked out to the moving van, climbed in the back, and chose a box to carry. Ellie watched, carefully sipping her coffee, admiring his muscular arms. As he descended from the van’s tailgate, he looked up, right at Ellie. Feeling like she’d been caught spying, she waved and grinned sheepishly. The man stopped dead in his tracks. With a sickening crash, the box he had been carrying hit the ground. His face turned pale, and his mouth opened, but no words came out. He just stood there, staring. Ellie’s hand flew self-consciously to her cheek. Feeling exposed, she jumped up from the porch swing and ran into the house. The doorbell rang a few seconds later. She ignored it. The last thing she needed was a confrontation from someone she didn’t even know. Way to make a first impression, El, she thought. |