8
TREADING WATER
I could have gone to a hotel, I suppose.
But Ed wouldn’t answer my calls all night.
I didn’t think it would look good not to be home if he happened to call. I imagined how the conversation might have gone:
Hi, hon. No, the baby and I are at a hotel.
Yes, I know funds are tight at the moment.
Terese did see Cody and me together, but I’m not at a hotel with him.
We’re here because we’re afraid of the house.
Yes, afraid of the things you can’t see. Afraid of things I can’t explain or prove.
I know this house is haunted.
And, no, I’m not crazy!
Needless to say, I decided to brave the consequences of the house. The wind howled in the hallway all night long, and the door kept creeping its way open.
I haven’t slept since I found the crackers pounded to dust in the kitchen.
I don’t have a chance to explain things to Edison—the door, the crackers, the lunch with Cody Granger—until he arrives home the next day.
There’s no response from him for the longest thirty seconds of my life. And then, all he says is, “Uh-huh.”
“You have to believe me.” I fold my arms over my middle as I pace, fit to wear a trench in the bedroom floor.
He coughs, then says, “The kitchen is filthy.”
“I know. I left the crackers so you could see.”
“We have a child to think about.”
“Of course I’m thinking of Sabrina. That’s why we have to put this house back on the market. We have to sell it. We have to move. And I know we’ll lose money. No one will pay what we paid for this dump, but—”
“Ana.” He closes his hands around my biceps and directs me to sit on our bed. “Please, Ana. Tell me the truth. He’s gotten to you, hasn’t he?”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?” He tightens his grip. “Cody Granger!”
Tears well in my eyes. “That’s all you have to say to me?”
“We have to sell it. We have to move.”
“I don’t know why else you’d insist on moving. He got to you, tempted you, and if you want to save our marriage, you have to distance yourself.”
“No, Ed.”
“I’ve wanted to live here since I was eight years old. And I’m not giving up this house because he’s managed to charm his way into your pants in just a couple weeks’ time.”
“Edison, please. This isn’t about Cody Granger. He happened to be there, and I was terrified .”
“And yet you stayed in the house last night. Terrified. ”
“Ask anyone at the Crescent Moon. They’ll tell you it was nothing but lunch between—”
“Oh, they told me, all right. They told me my wife looked like she’d just been rolled in the hay. They told me his truck was parked down the street all night long.”
This nearly stops my heart. “If it was, I don’t know why.”
“I’m not stupid, Ana.”
“I love you, Edison.”
“I have to get out of here.” He tears his way out of his khakis and steps into a pair of board shorts. “It’s not enough that he slept with my high school girlfriend. He had to get his hooks in you too.”
“I don’t know anything about your girlfriend from high school, but—”
“How could you, Ana? How could you do this?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong! You have to believe me. You have to listen to what I’m telling you. We can’t stay in this house.”
“I can’t stay in it with you. I need a drink.”
Within seconds, he’s barreling out the door, and the tires of his sedan are screeching down the road.
I gather Sabrina’s things and pack a bag. He’ll come home with a clearer head. He’ll listen. He will.
And if he won’t, the baby and I will leave.
“Whore!”
I’m not fully awake when I’m yanked from the sofa.
I land on the threadbare woolen carpeting and hit my head against the leg of a side table.
Sabrina shrieks from across the room.
I blink hard, rub my head, and try to get to my feet.
“Baby,” I say. “Mommy’s coming.”
But a kick to my gut sends me back to the floor. I wrench in pain.
Edison’s silhouette looms over me, but I can’t focus on him.
The cold wind whips through the room, and a high-pitched whistling fills my ears.
Sabrina screams, “Zozozozozo!”
I crawl toward her, but he’s on me again, this time pulling me by the hair.
I kick and scratch at him until I manage to get to my feet and fight back.
The stench of Scotch on his breath dizzies me for a second, but his inebriation works in my favor. I shove him, and he stumbles back.
It buys me enough time to gather Sabrina in my arms.
We’re shaking. It’s freezing in here.
“Zozozozozo,” she says on a breath broken with her sobs.
By the time Edison’s on his feet again, I have my phone in my hand, and I’m out the door with my daughter.
It’s just after three. Edison’s car is parked next to mine, and the house is dark, save for one dim light in the kitchen, which I left on so Ed could find his way in after the bar.
I bounce the baby in my arms, calming her in the dark of the warm night, waiting in the driveway for the police to arrive.
When they finally do, it’s without the fanfare of flashing lights or sirens. They simply pull up and stop and take a good four or five minutes to get out of the patrol car.
“Mrs. Clementine?” The beam of a flashlight momentarily blinds me.
“Yes.”
The one without the flashlight speaks now. “You called about a domestic dispute?”
“I must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa earlier,” I say, “and my husband came home, and he’s obviously been drinking, and—”
“Eddie Jr.?”
“Yes. He pulled me off the sofa. Kicked me and yanked me by the hair. There’s something wrong. This isn’t like him, Officer, but—”
“No. Indeed it isn’t. We’ll check it out.”
“Thank you.”
“We have your permission to enter the premises?”
“Of course.”
“Are there any weapons in the home, Mrs. Clementine?”
“No.”
They enter.
I don’t hear a sound.
A few minutes later, one of the officers leans out the door. “Mrs. Clementine, would you mind coming in?”
“What’s wrong?” I begin toward the door. “Is he all right?”
The officer doesn’t reply.
So I keep on.
I enter the dim house to see Edison, bare chested in plaid pajama pants, hair rumpled, standing in the kitchen. He’s yawning.
“We had to wake him,” one of Parker’s Landing’s finest says. “He was upstairs in bed. Asleep. Says he has been for hours.”
“No . . . he just came in.”
“I’m sorry, Jim.” Edison nods at first one officer, then the other. “Ron. She’s been having some intense dreams lately. She’s under a lot of pressure with the move.”
“We understand.”
My husband claps one on the back and leads them to the door.
“You’re just going to leave?” I ask. “He kicked me. He pulled me by the hair.”
“Ana,” Edison says. “Really. You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Look,” Jim says. “There’s no sign of a struggle. And we patrolled past your house over an hour ago, and Eddie’s car was in the driveway then. Are there any marks on your body?”
I doubt there’s been time for a bruise to develop.
“And you said he’s been drinking, but there’s no trace of alcohol on his breath.”
I can smell the mouthwash from here. He probably just gargled some.
“Now, you don’t have to stay, Mrs. Clementine,” Jim says, “but without evidence, I can’t very well arrest a guy I’ve known my whole life and never known to have violent tendencies.”
“Okay. I’ll go,” I say. “I’ll take the baby, and I’ll go.”
“Maybe it’s best if the baby stays here,” Ed says.
“Might be a good idea,” Ron says on their way out the door. “Your husband says you probably need to get some sleep.”
No amount of convincing will result in my leaving without Sabrina.
“Thanks, fellas.” Edison shows them to the door.
A moment later, we’re alone, standing in a kitchen still covered in cracker crumbs.
Ed leans against the countertop. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
A tear rolls down my cheek. “I’m afraid, Ed.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re just going through something. I wish you’d tell me.”
“I have told you. There’s something in this house, but you don’t want to hear it. All you want to hear is what the busybodies in this town have to say about Cody Granger.”
“Cody.” He sighs. “I trust you, Ana. But that guy . . .”
“Nothing happened. I was scared, and he was there. Why is that so hard to believe? I’m exhausted and scared, and I’m just so, so alone . Why don’t you believe me?”
“Let’s table this for now and get some sleep.” He reaches for the baby.
She clings to me.
“Come on, baby.” Ed claps and puts out his hands. “Let’s give Mommy a break.”
But Sabrina only cuddles closer. “Zozo.”
She’s afraid too.