Don’t Close Your Eyes, page 29
He could feel her as she watched him. She was leaning against the side window, a smile curled onto her lips.
As he thought about the stress, he remembered the heart attack that had changed their lives and the warning: take it easy or you won’t make another year.
His resolve failed a little. Maybe he should leave it another month, recuperate a bit more—but somehow he knew now was the right time, and as long as all went well, it would help rebuild them.
“You know I just want the best for ...” Lauren’s eyes flicked to the back seat and the sleeping children. “Them,” she finished.
Steve nodded, feeling hope rise within him. Lauren was taking the change in circumstances hard, selling the cabin, the older car, less spending money, but he knew deep down inside that none of that really mattered. He allowed his own eyes to leave the road and glanced at the children via the rear-view mirror. They were snuggled up beneath blankets, like bookends on the rear seat. They looked so safe, cocooned within the comfort of the metal vehicle as they were whisked through the night. Lucy was all innocence, her thumb tucked in her mouth, her eyelids flickering. Chase had relaxed in sleep and looked once more like a carefree little boy. His hair flopped over his face, covering his eyes.
Steve’s chest filled with warmth and love and he nodded at Lauren. It was so nice to be free of the bickering, even if for just a little while.
Pulling his attention back on the road, Steve shifted his eyes past Lauren, who relaxed against the seat. Her weary eyes struggled to stay open, but she managed a smile. Steve returned it before looking back at the road. Letting out a sigh, he rolled his shoulders. They were going to make it. This holiday would give them the time to slow down and realize how much they still had to be grateful for. He had never realized how much he’d missed when he was working so hard, but since his illness, he had come to appreciate his time at home. Now he didn’t want to give it up.
He signaled and pulled off the main road onto a narrower lane that would take them the last sixty miles to the cabin. Lauren closed her eyes and he heard her breathing deepen and slow as she started to drift off to sleep. She needed the rest. Steve eased off the accelerator just a little. Taking the corners a little slower would allow her to sleep easier.
Lauren had always admonished him about his working hours and yet now she had become him, always too busy to be with the children, always too stressed to enjoy the little things. He hadn’t realized how grumpy he was until his job was gone. Maybe she didn’t realize just how much it affected her mood.
Steve passed through a sleepy hamlet, the street lights illuminating the quaint cottages with their neat and colorful gardens. He noted the small shop and café they had frequented on previous visits. It brought back good memories, but then he was out of the village and the darkness seemed to descend on the car. There was no traffic now as he headed through a forest of twisted oaks and huge beech trees. He loved the deciduous forests. The variety of trees, each with its own character, supported much more life than the so-called factory forests full of regimented pines.
He hoped they would see some deer this trip; the kids would love it, and sometimes they were almost tame near the cabin. You could get close if you were patient and quiet. He chuckled to himself. Lucy would never manage to keep still.
He turned the car around a steep bend and started to climb up the hill. He pushed down on the accelerator to compensate for the gradient and the car responded, maintaining speed easily enough. Sometimes he missed the Mercedes, but this SUV was solid and reliable and kind of fun to drive. The kids appreciated the extra height of the vehicle, which gave them such good all- around views.
They leveled out and sped along, like they were leaving behind their troubles and moving toward a new future. The powerful headlights illuminated the road ahead and suddenly seemed to spotlight an object on the verge. It seemed odd, but as Steve got closer, he slowed the car and suddenly realized what it was. Someone had left it here for sale, a rough sign giving the price of £5.
Without thinking, he slammed on the brakes. The car dipped violently and the tires protested with a squeal as they lurched to a halt.
Lauren jerked upright, her eyes wide and fear lining her face. “Are you all right?” she asked, reaching out to touch Steve’s arm.
“Look.”
“Steve, damn it, what’s wrong?”
Steve smiled down at his wife’s concerned face and pointed out the window. Silhouetted in the headlights was a rocking chair.
Lauren put a hand to her chest and let out a sigh. “I thought you’d had ... I thought your heart ... damn it, Steve. It’s just an old chair. What are you doing?”
Steve felt a little hurt and a little foolish. Why did I stop? He glanced into the rear seat; the children slept on, unaware of the drama. At least this time they wouldn’t see him berated. He moved to push the gear lever back into drive, but something stopped him once more. It’s perfect. He pulled on the handbrake and turned to Lauren, taking a deep breath. “It’s just what you wanted for the deck.”
“The deck of the cabin I have to sell, since you lost your job.”
The words cut deep, and he felt himself shrink. “So you do blame me?” He shifted the gear lever back into drive and eased off the handbrake. The car started to roll forward, the chair spotlighted before them.
Lauren let out a sigh. “That’s not what I said. Look, I’m tired, but I don’t need a chair.” She leaned toward Steve and touched the brushed cotton of his plaid shirt. She hadn’t meant how this was going and Steve looked so miserable, almost beaten; what had she done? “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He slammed on the brakes. “It’s £5. You’re having it.”
Steve got out of the car before his courage left him. The cold night air was like walking into a freezer and he hitched his shirt up around his neck. He crossed the road and walked up to the chair. Lauren would enjoy this, and maybe it would give them some good memories. Well worth £5.
On a crumbling gatepost, yellow crime scene tape screamed a warning that Steve failed to see as he bent over the old rocking chair. He pushed the chair and was pleased that it rocked smoothly back and forth. In the still night, it soon stopped and he reached down and rubbed his fingers over the chair’s back. The wood felt silky smooth beneath his fingers, but deep marks were cut across the arms, as if someone had tried to saw across them in lots of different places. Some of the edges were rough and a splinter pricked his finger, causing blood to spurt out and splash the polished wood.
He pulled his finger up and sucked the blood. A quick rub with some sandpaper and the arms would be fine. Lifting the cardboard with the £5 price tag, he headed up the weed-ridden path to the old cottage.
Still sucking his bloody finger, he knocked on the door. It gave a desolate, hollow sound and he knew the house was empty. He knocked again, shifting from foot to foot, cold and impatient to be on his way as the cottage’s black, empty windows stared back at him. There really was no one home. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, stuffing £5 through the letterbox before returning down the path to the chair.
As he reached it, an owl hooted behind him and the chair began to rock. A shiver ran down his spine, as the night was deadly still. For a second, he wanted to run back to the car. Jesus, man. Are things that bad? He stopped himself and reached down and picked up the chair.
The trunk of the SUV was packed to bursting. No way was the chair fitting. Reaching between the cases, he pulled out a rope and hoisted the chair onto the roof rack, securing it before climbing back into the welcome warmth.
Lauren’s face was soft with love.
“Thank you,” she said.
Steve was filled with joy. This was the old Lauren, the one he loved so much. “I can just see you sitting on the deck reading.”
“What would I have time to read?” She chuckled in the darkness.
“I brought your recipe book.” Steve knew embarrassment and joy were warming him just as much as the car’s ample heating. Picking up that chair had been a good choice.
“But …” she started.
“You love to cook, and since ... You’ve been too busy taking care of everything, well ... this holiday you deserve some alone time.”
Lauren smiled and relaxed back into the seat. “A few hours in the kitchen would be heaven.”
Steve was starting to feel more confident and his voice rose with enthusiasm. “Then it’s sorted. The pumpkins and I will give you some peace.”
“But I love being with them too.” Lauren’s eyebrows knitted together at the dilemma.
Steve’s smile slipped as he took the innocent statement as an insult.
Lauren smiled. “I meant with all of you.” She patted his arm good-naturedly.
Steve recovered quickly. “Fishing?”
Lauren laughed, a light, comfortable sound, and leaned back in the seat. “Cooking it is, then.”
Chapter 49
The SUV bumped over the rutted gravel track, passing through the sentinel pines before breaking out into the open. The headlights lit up a majestic valley surrounded by imposing hills. Over to the left, grass rolled down to a mirror-black lake that nestled beneath the pines. To the right, a small log cabin sat on a hillock before a backdrop of deciduous trees.
A smile crossed Steve’s face as he remembered sunny days and the children laughing. How they had raced across the grass and fished in the lake, Lucy always laughing, Chase pretending he only wanted to read.
Steps led up to a raised deck and a table sat next to the window, where they had enjoyed many a happy meal, eating, drinking, the nights as full of laughter as the days. A game of Snap came to mind and how Lucy had squealed with delight, not realizing they were all letting her win. They did that a lot as she was so predictable in how she played.
The moon peeked from behind the clouds as they drew closer and showed the rustic cabin in all its glory.
This is going to be a wonderful trip.
Steve pulled the car over in front of the cabin and turned off the engine. He relaxed against the headrest, breathed out, and enjoyed the quiet.
“Are we here?” Lauren asked, her sleepy eyes blinking in the semi-dark.
“Yes.” Steve looked down at her. With her hair mussed up and barely awake, she looked so beautiful.
“Wait here a minute.” Steve got out of the warm car and stepped into the chill night. The wind whispered in the trees and crickets chirped in the bushes. He smiled at Lauren and hauled the chair from the car roof, carrying it effortlessly to the deck in front of the cabin and placing it next to a table and four chairs.
He tossed the rope over the banister that ran around the deck and unlocked the cabin. It smelled fresh and clean and he switched on the lights. There was a note on the side. He didn’t need to read it; Jennifer, from the village, would have prepared the cabin for them. She would have cleaned, made the beds, and filled the fridge and cupboards. She was a godsend, as the cabin was remote, but she never complained.
Switching on the outside light, Steve returned to the car.
Grabbing a book from the back seat, he guided Lauren to the rocker. “Here, sit.” He handed her the book. “Pick out a recipe for tomorrow while I take care of the pumpkins.”
She sank into the chair and opened the book, absently skipping through the pages as he put the children to bed.
* * *
Lauren rocked back and forth, relaxing as she wondered which pie she would cook tomorrow. She couldn’t decide between two, both family favorites.
From deep within the woods, an owl hooted somewhere behind her. Something felt wrong. She stopped rocking and shivered, suddenly wide awake and alert.
The moon was full, so she peered into the night but could see nothing. Shadows surrounded them. The light did not penetrate the trees, but this was a peaceful place. It had never spooked her before. Staring for a while longer, she could see nothing amiss. All seemed fine, so why did it suddenly feel wrong?
She let out a sigh, realizing it was just her nerves playing up. Relaxing again, she rocked gently in the cool breeze. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the gentle movement, now pleased that Steve had stopped for the chair.
“One hot choc.”
Lauren’s eyes opened lazily as Steve handed her a steaming mug and pulled up a chair beside her.
“Thanks. Are they settled?” Lauren sipped the warming liquid.
“They never even stirred.” He picked up her recipe book and scanned the pages. “I have a friend who says there’s a big market for cookbooks. Your pies are legendary. Maybe it’s time you put one together.”
Lauren turned to see him better. “I know I’ve talked about it, but what do I know about writing?”
Steve leaned forward and moved a stray curl from her cheek. “We’re a team,” he said. “In my job, I wrote enough reports. I would love to help you.”
“You ... really?”
Lauren’s tone cut deep and for a second, Steve’s smile faded.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant,” Lauren said quickly, not wanting to spoil the mood. “You think you could do that?”
“I have hidden talents,” he said with a suggestive smile.
Lauren laughed, a deep and provocative sound. “Really?”
“That sounds like a challenge. Why don’t I give you a demonstration?”
“I should be so lucky,” Lauren teased as she started to rise from the chair.
Steve held up his hand. “You will be lucky. Give me ten minutes.” He dashed from the deck back into the cabin. “Get your ass in here in ten,” he called over his shoulder.
* * *
Steve stood in a rustic bedroom. The queen-sized bed sported a purple patchwork quilt and was flanked by matching oak cabinets. A small wardrobe and a dark throw rug finished the furnishings. He stacked the two suitcases beside the wardrobe and checked his watch.
He had completed the preparation in exactly twelve minutes and smiled to himself as anticipation thrilled through him. This was going to be a great night, a night for them to reconnect and to start anew. He had plans that would bring in some more money and allow Lauren to relax more, and who knew if her cooking book took off—anyhow, they would be fine. He checked the room again. It looked great. Now where was Lauren?
I bet she’s fallen asleep. Just my luck.
He left the room and walked down the short, dark hallway to the kitchen. The rustic room looked homely, a table and four chairs surrounded by rough oak units, a range cooker, and an old fridge. The sides were minimal and clear. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses. Quickly, he poured the drinks.
With the glasses in his hand, he walked out of the cabin. The sight took his breath away. Lauren was relaxing in the rocker, bathed in moonlight. Her eyes were closed and her golden curls cascaded around her shoulders as she rocked serenely. Beautifully. Steve’s love for her was written all over his face as she rocked blissfully, unaware of his presence.
He stepped forward, a smile on his face and a lump in his throat. He swallowed, trying to talk, but his throat was dry at this vision of perfection, at least to him.
The chair rocked slowly, languorously backward. A vicious gash appeared on her forehead. Blood spurted from the wound and poured down her face. A black eye and bruised cheek were quickly hidden by the slickly spreading liquid which dripped from her face to the floor. Lauren’s hair was subtly different, a tad shorter with fewer curls.
Steve felt a knife in his heart and the glasses smashed to the deck. He rushed forward but felt as if the world had stopped; everything was in slow motion and the second seemed to last forever. A scream formed in his throat as the chair began to rock forward.
Lauren turned toward him, startled by the sound of breaking glass. Her eyes pleaded through her bloody curtain and then she was normal again, unharmed, his perfect wife.
Steve stumbled toward the chair. “Oh my God, Lauren.”
Lauren jumped up. She was fine, uninjured and perfect as she rushed towards Steve, a look of concern marring her face.
“Steve, what happened? Did you have ...?”
He gathered her into his arms and felt the warmth of her against him, pulling her head into his shoulder. He was shaking slightly and just wanted to hug her and know that she was fine.
“Steve, are you all right? What happened?”
He held her close, willing the vision to go away, but if he closed his eyes, he saw her bleeding. “Nothing,” he said. “I must be tired, that’s all. Fancy a glass of wine?”
Lauren extracted herself from his embrace and kicked at the broken glass. “That’s two less to pack,” she said with a laugh in her voice.
* * *
They lay naked next to each other on the bed. The patchwork quilt had been kicked off and their bodies were covered with a fine film of sweat. Lauren leaned down, pulled the covers over them, and snuggled her head onto Steve’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and relaxed. “That was nice,” she said.
“Nice. Ha ...” Steve pulled her close. It had been so long since they had made love and this was just what they needed. To rediscover each other, to remember what they loved about each other, and to relax without the pressures of the outside world.
“I love it here. I just love it,” Lauren said.
Steve sighed. If only they could stay here, but they couldn’t. Still, at least they would have memories from this last holiday.
Chapter 50
Steve watched Lauren as she slept. A single curl had fallen across her face and her eyelashes twitched to the beat of her dreams. He had been awake an hour but had kept still, not wanting to disturb her. She put on this tough persona, but he knew how tired she was. Tenderness and love squeezed his heart as she mumbled incoherently.
She stirred, her blonde curls falling across her face. Instinctively, he reached out a hand and smoothed the hair away, smiling at the curve of her face, the lips he loved to kiss, and her elegant neck that she loved for him to nuzzle. Gradually coming awake, she smiled up at him. He returned the smile, enjoying the sight as she luxuriated in the filtered sunlight.
