Andrea
Eugene and I stood in his central foyer removing our coats. I’d kept him company outside while he finished salting the path.
The phone rang as he picked up the glass he’d had earlier. He answered, looking down at the floor, rotating his glass making the ice tinkle, then his eyes drifted up and settled on me. “Oh yeah, you know I’ll take good care of her.” And then, “No problem, man.” He threw back his head, emptying his glass as he handed the receiver to me.
Benjamin wanted to know why no one had answered earlier. I explained about being outside. I could hear the anxiety in his voice, but all I could say to console him was, “I love you. See you soon.”
“You must have gotten with that loser when he was with Carolyn.”
“Excuse me?” I’d heard him correctly, but I frowned in puzzlement. One minute we could joke about how he’d resembled a dancing bear on ice, and the next minute he could say something clearly intended to hurt me. “What are you talking about, Eugene?”
“Calls here like he has some say as to what I do in my own house. I must not be the only motherfucker drinking tonight.”
“Okay,” I drew out the word slowly, my heart rate rising quickly. Exit Dr. Jekyll, enter Mr. Hyde. Eugene obviously had had more to drink than I thought. Thinking back, he never could hold his liquor. “I’ll just say goodnight.” I walked toward the bedroom I would use.
He held up his hands to encourage me to stay, blocking my way. “Sorry, sorry. That’s your man now, don’t mind me. My hurt feelings are talking. I was willing to offer you me, this house, and this land. None of that appealed to you.”
The high I had from standing in Carolyn’s dream come true quickly turned to uneasiness. He was too close and too drunk. I wondered if the panic showed in my eyes. “Well, it wasn’t the right time for us.”
“My timing was off? Maybe I should try again? I could remind you of how good we were together.”
Something had changed in Eugene. There was a craziness in his eyes I’d never noticed before. An icky, spider-crawling sensation walked over me along with sudden clarity. He had been the person at the cemetery watching me. He was the one in the mall parking lot, and maybe he was the one at the zoo. He’d been following me God knows for how long. The meeting in the grocery store was all a set-up, and I walked right into his trap. Think Andrea—think. How are you going to get out of this?
He grabbed my shoulders. I pushed, but this six-foot cinder block didn’t budge. Whiskey-coated lips descended. I got my hand up between us. When I turned my face away, my ring scratched me. “Ouch!” I yelped.
Eugene jumped back as if I’d scared him instead of the other way around. He handed me a cocktail napkin to catch the dripping blood. “What happened?”
“My ring.” Pretending to want to see the wound, I rushed into the powder room to get away from him, but he followed too closely. A red scar angled from my nose to outside my left eye. It looked as angry as I felt, but there’d be no permanent damage.
Eugene removed some peroxide and a cotton ball from the medicine cabinet. “Here, use this. I’m really sorry.” As I took care of my injury, he watched.
Now what? Was that the end of his assault? Did he mean it when he said he was sorry? My body shook.
After a few stinging dabs at the affected area I said, “Excuse me.” I carefully sidestepped him to get back into the living room. I eyed the front door, but didn’t think I could outrun him. I grabbed my purse from the sofa, then hurried to the bedroom where I closed the door and locked it, collapsing with my back against it. Berating myself for being in this mess in the first place, I took out my cell phone. Holding it comforted me. Benjamin would come and get me, but should I call him? Did I want him to drive through an ice storm to rescue me? Did I want to admit how stupid I’d been for coming and agreeing to spend the night?
Unsure what to do, I sighed and looked at the ice-encased shrubbery outside my window. Eugene’s mother lived fifty feet away, but she was sick. I shifted my gaze in time to see the doorknob jiggle. I took in a sharp breath. A low rapping came next.
Round two. I breathed deeply but couldn’t stop the sensation of the walls closing in around me. “I’ve got my phone, Eugene! Go away or I’ll call the police!”
“Now why would you want to do that? I said I was sorry. I just need to know that you’re not going to stay mad at me.”
“I’m not mad. Good night.”
“Good night? It’s barely six.”
“Well, I’m tired from the drive.”
“I don’t believe you. Open the door. Please. I have a key, you know. I don’t want a scene. I just want to make peace.”
The key comment cinched it for me. I wasn’t being paranoid, and if I was, so what—better safe than sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I called 911 and actually got a busy signal. Ugh! Maybe people calling about the ice storm tied up the line.
I snatched open the door and swished past him before he could locate a key. “I’m thirsty.” If he was going to get a key, the space in the living room provided better maneuverability.
I hoped my racing heart would not belie my acting calm and in control, instead of the trapped lab rat I felt like. I wondered how many obstacles I’d have to overcome to get out of this unscathed.
Taking a glass with trembling fingers, I filled it from the tap. “You want some help with these dishes, Eugene? I thought you were cleaning up?” When he moved closer to me, I stiffened, and then flinched when he took my hand. If he noticed my fear, he didn’t care. I held onto my glass in case I needed a weapon.
“I gotta tell you. I had planned to ask you to marry me. Seeing this other man’s ring upset me. I just want you to be happy.”
Thinking he was Dr. Jekyll again, I wriggled my hand free. “Thank you. Benjamin, and I are going to be fine. What do you say we get this stuff cleaned up?”
He looked at the used party fare with a tired expression. “Yeah, might as well.”
It took an hour to get the kitchen squared away before we said goodnight again. I felt sure the situation earlier had been diffused, but the faster I could get away from this man, the better. I couldn’t trust him. I watched him go into his room and close the door, and then I got my belongings.
If I was lucky, I’d remember Mrs. Sherwood’s number so she’d be expecting me. If I couldn’t get through, it didn’t matter. Once I crossed the salted path and was standing on her front porch, I knew I’d have a safe place to spend the night.
Not wanting to upset Mrs. Sherwood, I hoped the adrenalin surging through my body didn’t give me away. I warily flitted from window to window under the guise of commenting about the ice, while I really checked to make sure I didn’t see Eugene barreling over here after me. He’d apparently calmed down, and I didn’t think he’d upset his mother by making a scene, but my blood pressure had to be off the charts with worry.
I would never see Eugene Sherwood again in this lifetime and pray that our conflict ended here.
When Mrs. Sherwood and I had retired to our separate bedrooms, I wept. I pushed an armchair against the door for added protection, then crumpled into it, attempting to stifle my sobs as salty tears stung the scar from my ring. I’d been lucky. No, not lucky, blessed. More tears descended when I thought again of what had almost happened and of Eugene’s treachery.
After several minutes, I stopped crying, took off my sweater and pants and climbed between the sheets, bringing my purse with me. When I was sure my voice wouldn’t betray me, I called Benjamin and told him that I had reconsidered and taken his advice and would spend the night at Mrs. Sherwood’s house.
I couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d come for me and there would be an ugly confrontation, assuming he made it here alive through the ice storm. No, I’d leave as soon as I could and never see Eugene again.
* * *
The next morning, I had to wait for the temperature to rise above freezing before I could leave. I met Mrs. Sherwood in the kitchen, which looked like a 1950’s decorating book. We sat at a gray Formica table with matching red vinyl chairs. These were antique items in today’s market. She covered her mouth with her hand and yarned noisily.
“Are you still tired?” I asked.
“Yes, I am. Chemotherapy exhausts me and those trucks coming in and out—all that sawing and hammering has made it hard for me to catch up on my rest, but I’ll be all right.”
Tess sat by her master’s side, tongue hanging. She stared at me with a “how may I help you.” Her mostly black coat shined.
“Help yourself to some coffee.”
I helped myself and refilled her cup.
“Andi, I’m happy Eugene’s back home with us.”
Murky gray eyes that couldn’t focus turned in my general direction. “I love the house. The sun porch on the back overlooking the river, I’m sure that’s a lovely view, and the kitchen is well laid out. He’ll get much enjoyment out of that house. I thank you for your input into its design.”
“You’re welcome. Carolyn and I enjoyed doing it.”
“Oh yes, your poor sister.”
I looked down at my coffee, then outside at the mist still lingering. It was only 8:30. I couldn’t have run out of conversation already? Eugene’s behavior was on my mind, but I couldn’t talk to his mother about that. “What good books have you listened to recently?”
“There have been several, but I forget the names. I like women’s stories of love and family. Sandy is good about bringing me books on tape from the library.”
Sandy was her friend who lived a half-mile down the road, her closest neighbor. “I like stories about love and family, too,” I agreed. “You know they’re good when they can make you laugh or cry.”
“Now, that’s the truth.”
About 10:30, flat chunks of melting ice slid down my windshield. It was time for me to go.
“Mrs. Sherwood, thanks for letting me spend the night. Is there anything you want me to do before I go?”
“Oh, is it safe to travel now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I turned the heat down to save on my bill. Hope you found the blanket last night. Would you mind checking in my extra bedroom for my cardigan? I can’t find the one I want, maybe Sandy put it there.”
“Sure.”
Large, scary aquamarine and gold flowers that don’t grow in nature grew on the wallpaper in the second bedroom that had been my refuge. I wondered if Mrs. Sherwood had selected it before or after the boating accident that left her blind thirty years ago. I flicked the light and went to the closet of the neatly kept room.
A wooden pole spanned the width of the closet. I began struggling to make space enough to get a look at anything I thought was a cardigan. The clothes were tightly packed. I found one and slid it off its hanger. A mouse scurried over my foot.
“Aghh!” I jumped up and back six inches.
“What’s the matter, Andi? Can’t you find it?” Mrs. Sherwood yelled to me.
“No, I found it.” Back in the kitchen, I handed it to her. Tess stood, tail wagging. I imagined she would give her eyeteeth for a chance to play hunter. “A mouse ran out of the closet and scared me.”
“Oh yes. They come inside for the warmth. I’ll get Eugene to move his boxes of camera equipment over to his place, and put down traps.”
When Mrs. Sherwood kissed me goodbye, her fingertips imparted information her sightless eyes could not. I recoiled slightly because of the tenderness.
“What happened?”
“My ring scratched me when I took off my sweater last night.” I prayed that explanation would work for Benjamin, too.
As I pulled onto Interstate 24 a few minutes later it came to me. What camera equipment? Eugene must have a new hobby.