Shirley
Suspicious
Oliver
I
woke up on a hospital bed with a doctor to my left and a couple of
people with familiar faces to my right. My vision was hazy. My eyes
were wet, and my lips were dry. One of the familiar faces belonged to
my thirteen-year-old daughter, Kenna, who had my hand in hers - She
was evidently back from boarding school to visit me. Kenna was
tearing up, which explained the wetness of my own eyes.
In
a few seconds, I was also able to identify the other familiar face
which was looking at me with a sorrowful smile, if that was even
possible. Her expression made her look disgustingly empathetic. It
was Shirley. "How are you feeling, Olly?", she asked. Her voice
was shaky. I opened my mouth to speak but I did not manage to say
anything coherent. My throat was still too dry, and my mind was still
too confused. I was getting the feeling that Shirley and Kenna were
expecting an outburst of emotions and not an actual response from me.
I finally looked up
at the doctor, who seemed to be busy scanning through some reports
with meticulous detail until he noticed me gazing at him. I shut my
eyes again hoping this was a bad dream. The doctor didn't take his
eyes off the reports when he finally began talking. "I hope you're
feeling slightly better, Oliver. You fainted instantly when you
learned about the horrific accident that took place when your wife
Jennifer was driving yesterday afternoon. I am extremely sorry for
your loss," he said.
Shirley
and Kenna noticed my widower face lose color as I digested that
information. Shirley held my other hand with pity still scribbled all
over her face. "I think Oliver should be left alone for a while. He
needs the rest", said the doctor as I watched Kenna and Shirley
leave the room behind him. I noticed that there was something unusual
about Shirley's expression right before they left - I was not
able to tell whether it was a look of guilt or triumph. Maybe it was
a combination.
Maybe
it was never an accident.
The
first time I met Shirley will always be embedded in my memory. We met
at a group therapy session - It was more of a grief sharing session
even though it was called group therapy. The reason I went there was
because I was having problems with Jennifer at home - We hadn't
spoken like mature adults or had a single meaningful conversation for
over four months. "The idea of therapy is demeaning and ridiculous,
I am not even considering it", was Jen's response when I brought
it up, so I decided to give it a shot by myself. Fortunately for me,
speaking about mental health was finally in fashion.
There
would be around fifteen of us at each of the sessions, who would meet
thrice a week in a dilapidated garage. We would sit in a circle and
take turns sharing our tragic experiences. Shirley was the
facilitator of these sessions. Sharing was not mandatory, which was
good news for me considering my diffident personality. As a result,
my first day went in listening - especially to Shirley.
Her
skin was like cream and roses and her eyes were as blue as the waters
of a Norwegian fiord. The curves of her
slender frame were complemented by the cut and drape of the
dress she had put on. She passionately spoke about her late
husband who died in a car accident almost two years ago. I was
blinded by her beauty, and by the attention I received from her when
she initiated private conversations with me in the following few days
in order to make me open up to her. Maybe I just forgot how it felt
to be looked at, to be heard.
"Dinner
tonight? Please? I insist", she asked me for the third time in my
first four weeks. There was an indefatigable energy and enthusiasm
that I saw in her which complemented my personality. I wanted to see
where this took me. I didn't mind seeing her in the absence of the
glittering sea of hopeful faces that were present at the sessions,
but I was afraid of what this dinner would lead to.
Just
as I had imagined, one dinner led to many more and before I knew it,
Shirley and I were together. I didn't know if it was the issues
that I was facing with Jen or the comfort level I had with Shirley,
but whatever I had with Shirley felt right. I felt like she was the
missing piece of the incomplete puzzle that was my life. "I want
you to meet Kenna. Come home", I said to her a month into our
relationship.
I
began to call Shirley home for dinner along with her other friends
whom I was now acquainted with through the sessions. Shirley bonded
really well with Kenna at home which was very important for me in
case I decided to call it off with Jen. Jen was so pre-occupied in
ignoring me that she never even noticed Kenna getting along with
Shirley. Jen was most definitely not privy to the ongoing adultery,
or maybe she genuinely couldn't care less.
Three
months into the relationship with Shirley, I realized that were no
point in lying to Jen or to myself about the marriage. I needed to
end it. "Do you mean end the marriage or end her?", asked
Shirley, when I finally brought it up with her. I looked aghast. She
reminded me of the agreement that I had with Jen. I would lose half
my net worth and I would also need to share child custody which I was
not ready to do. I decided that I could not just end the marriage, I
needed to end Jennifer.
"I
always want you and Kenna by my side, forever", I said to her as I
realized that she was right in bringing up my agreement. It took
Shirley only a day or two before she gave me a list of people that
she knew from her sessions who were ex-convicts still exploring the
field. Apparently, there were experts who could kill people on the
road and make it look like an accident. I was sold pretty quickly.
D-day
minus one: It was Sunday and the last time Kenna would be with her
mother. She was going back to school after summer to start her fall
semester. Since the two of them did connect well on an emotional
level, I did feel for my daughter realizing she wouldn't deal with
Jen's death very well. "Both of you never visit me in school,
literally all the parents keep visiting their children", she
complained. "We will come over next weekend, I promise",
responded Jen. I let out a smirk.
That is the
last memory I had before I woke up on the hospital bed. I tried hard
to remember how the plan was carried out, but I couldn't. There had
to be a reason why I felt so uncomfortable looking at Shirley's
expression. Three weeks after being discharged, Kenna and Shirley
finally convinced me to visit Jen at the graveyard. "I am not
mentally prepared to do this, but I don't know if I ever will be.
Let's get this done with", I said to them as I set off.
Shirley
"Traumatic
experiences often result in the deletion of certain memories from the
brain of an individual, especially at the time of the event including
the moments and days that led to the event. There is a false reality
that is created to protect the person from what actually happened",
said the doctor as we stood outside Oliver's hospital room.
I
was afraid that this happened when I saw the confused look on
Oliver's face when he received the information regarding Jen's
death for the second time in twenty-four hours. "This might help
him recover sooner" said the doctor, "if he keeps forgetting what
happened". I started to ponder about the extent of his memory loss
though, especially after I noticed him glaring at me suspiciously as
I left the hospital room.
A
few of my closest friends always told me that I had an inherent flaw
of seeking people to treat. "You are constantly looking for people
who are broken, whether they want to be attended to or not", they
said. I disagreed with them when I heard such accusations even though
my late husband, Tyrone, and my current partner, Oliver, did fall in
that category. I lived in denial hoping that was untrue.
Everything
was going great with Tyrone until it wasn't. "Yes, I am accusing
you of never putting your therapist hat down and I will complain to
everyone about your constant need to cure someone. You are the one
who needs treatment, Shirley". It was funny how the reason he fell
for me was what he now despised about me the most. All I was doing
was being a caring wife until one day, he met with a car accident. I
would have been struggling to make ends meet but the only positive
that came out of his death was that I received fifty percent of his
net worth.
Two
years after the death of Tyrone, I finally met someone as mentally
unstable as him - Oliver. Initially, he would dispassionately gaze
at whoever was speaking at my session, but I saw the sparkle in his
eyes every time he turned to look at me. I realized very quickly that
this man would require private attention to truly open his heart and
share his feelings with me.
My
therapy instincts were tickled from the moment I first heard him
speak. Oliver had a tragic childhood - He had to watch his father
beat his mother every day until it led to the death of his mother.
His father was then arrested, and Oliver was basically an orphan
since he was ten. He was a self-made man who was greatly assiduous
and ambitious, but the psychological problems at the back of his mind
naturally stuck around.
The
reason Oliver was attending my sessions, however, was something else
which I found out only in his second week. He was having trouble with
his wife, Jennifer. "At this point, we see no value in our marriage
anymore, but we continue to stick together only for the sake of our
daughter, Kenna", he said. I loved that he even had a daughter. I
was continuously reminded of Tyrone's impotence and how I can
finally have my own child in the future if Oliver became mine.
A
therapist always loves challenges and the toughest challenges are
always about cracking people like Oliver wide open and winning over
their trust. He was just like Tyrone in the initial stages of our
relationship and he loved being taken care of. Oliver never spoke
much in groups or tried to be the center of attraction. The fact that
he only spoke openly when he was alone with me magnified his taciturn
nature.
I
even connected very well with Kenna when I visited him for dinner.
She was a kind-hearted teenager with a genial personality and did not
have any of the quintessential teen shenanigans. My maternal
instincts would come flowing out whenever I conversed with her. Being
the most amazing daughter in the world, Kenna shared an incredible
bond with both of her parents.
My
only hope was that Oliver would not eventually abhor me the way
Tyrone did for just being myself. My tensions faded away when he
walked up to me one day with great alacrity in his eyes and said
something that I least anticipated. "I need to end everything with
Jennifer", he said. I confirmed with him to make sure that he was
talking about the end of the marriage and not her life, but I was
wrong. I brought up the agreement between the couple in case they get
divorced, but I did not expect Oliver's reaction.
I
was very apprehensive when I first heard what he was suggesting.
Initially, I took a moral tone with him and suggested alternatives,
but in vain. He kept reminding me how fifty percent of net worth can
impact someone to a great extent considering my fortune with Tyrone.
Eventually, I realized that this was my only actual chance of
starting a new life with Kenna and Oliver. As wrong as it sounded, it
was still music to my ears primarily because I realized that he saw a
future with me.
"I know a few people from my past sessions who can get the job done
and make it look like an accident. Their group members have been
arrested but their success rate is very high, and they are our best
bet. They also don't reveal the perpetrators if they do get caught
- so we either see them succeed or we see them go to jail", I
said after I finally caved in. Olly was sold.
D-day
had arrived. Oliver and I had done all the planning and it was time
to execute our evil scheme. I was at home with Oliver waiting to hear
back from our culprits. "Are you ready, Olly?", I asked him. "I'm
not, but what's important is everything that lies ahead", he
responded. All of a sudden, he got an urge. "I need to listen to
her voice one last time, Shirley. I'm going to call her."
I
didn't realize he was this sadistic. Or was he having seconds
thoughts? Either way, I knew it was a bad idea. "Please don't do
that, Olly. It can really scar you. I am begging you, please stop!".
It was too late. It was T minus two minutes before the accident was
going to take place and Jennifer was driving on the highway as
expected when she received his call on the speaker.
"What?",
said Jennifer as she answered. "Nothing, I just wanted to hear your
voice", said Oliver, most uncharacteristically. "Shut up", we
heard from Jennifer. "Excuse me?", responded Oliver. "I wasn't
talking to you", replied Jennifer.
Our
hearts skipped more than just a beat after what we heard next. "Mum,
you were not supposed to reveal this! I wanted to surprise him",
shouted Kenna from the back of the car. "Too late", responded
Jennifer. "Please listen to me carefully", shouted Oliver
immediately, but it was a feeble attempt as Jen cut him: "Oliver,
you listen to me. I am getting your daughter home for the week. Her
school postponed the start date to next week...." were the last
words we heard before the inevitable happened.
Three
weeks after being discharged from the hospital, I finally convinced
Oliver to visit the graveyard. I didn't know if there would ever be
a right time to make him face the truth, but there we were. As his
eye caught the tombstone of his wife, he knelt when he saw the other
tombstone to the right of Jennifer's. He turned around to finally
realize that there was no one next to me.
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