LETHAL OBSESSION (12 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

      Ellen
tugged at her nightgown.  She had tossed and turned so much she felt exhausted.
Looking at the bedside clock, Ellen groaned. Six AM. Swinging her legs over the
side of the bed, she  reached for her silk robe.  Feeling restless, Ellen
wandered down stairs, hearing her footsteps echo on the polished hardwood
floor. Standing at the window facing the patio, she stared out at the scenery. 
The sunrise was so magnificent promising another Indian summer day.  Today, Ellen
vowed would be a day of strictly positive, uplifting thoughts. 

      Ellen
was seeing Dr. Carrington once a week.  The fact was she looked forward to
those sessions and wished she had one today.  He had a knack for making her
feel better about herself.   Dr. Carrington assured Ellen these black moods
would slowly fade.  He kept encouraging her to be true to herself and not allow
loneliness to sabotage her values.  Dr. Carrington was a wonderful man but
today the pain seemed more acute than usual. Ellen shouldn’t be morbid on a glorious
morning but she couldn’t help it.  The emptiness in her soul would not go
away.    

      The
chalet was so quiet, Ellen could feel Mark’s presence everywhere.  His voice
echoed in the stillness.  His clothes hung in the closet untouched like he was
coming home any day now.  The urge to touch his shirts and smell them again was
overwhelming.  Ellen fought that urge. Somehow she had to find a way to get
over this keening, to put it behind her and get on with her life.

      Tears
welled up and trickled down each cheek. Ellen stood silently at the window,
allowing the grief to wash over her. She wanted to wallow in it, get lost in
it. Her feet moved to the stairs. 

Soon
Ellen was in the bedroom facing the mirrored closet doors.  With trembling
fingers, she opened them and gazed at the  array of suits and shirts.  Reaching
out, she gathered them to her chest, burying her face in the crisp material. 
His special male scent assailed her senses and her sobs came with wracking
gasps. 

      How
could he be gone from her?  How was she ever going to be able to get through this
horrendous nightmare?  Never in her life had Ellen felt so alone.  There was no
family to lean on, no close friends to turn to.  There was no one that really
gave a damn, no one except Gene and maybe Dr. Carrington.  Maybe Ellen needed
to make an appointment today. Her emotions were going helter skelter again.

      A
frigid, lonely month inched by.  Christmas was right around the corner.  Ellen got
no more visits from Gene but she seemed to run into him everywhere.  He came up
behind her at the grocery store and nearly scared her to death.  She refused
his lunch invitation.  Ellen knew if she gave in to lunch it would be dinner
next. That lethal trap she had every intention to avoid. 

      The
thought flitted through her brain that Gene might be stalking her.  Surely he
wouldn't do a thing like that. She had made her feelings crystal clear the last
time they spoke.  His son was probably home.  Most families were busy preparing
for the holidays.

      Envy
of husbands and wives celebrating Christmas together made Ellen feel sorry for
herself. Even Dr. Carrington had his family.  She was alone and that's just the
way it was. She might as well make up her mind to get used to it and live with
it.  The cavernous chalet’ echoed her desolation whenever her solitary
footsteps crossed the polished wood floor.  Mark had been gone for almost a
half year now, yet her longing for him was still painfully acute.  Her mind
refused to focus on anything. Ellen couldn’t even come up with a logical plan
for her future.  A future for her no longer existed.  She felt adrift in a
relentless sea of unreality where there seemed no beginning or end.

      Now
Christmas was coming and all she wanted to do was get it over with. Christmas
was for families.  Ellen rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom.  She
stared at the mirror.  A strange frightening woman stared back at her.  Oh
God.  Ellen put trembling hands to her face.  She was dying, slowly and
painfully, and she didn’t even care.  Like a sleepwalker she went to the bed
and sat down.  It was so tempting to crawl under those warm covers and block
out all reality.

      No,
she was not going to give up.  It was almost as if she could hear Mark’s voice
encouraging her, telling her to be strong, to be strong for him. She had to try
and pull herself together somehow.

Ellen
walked to the closet and stared at her clothes.  Choosing a pair of sweats, she
got dressed and went downstairs.  Juanita handed her a cup of coffee and she
sipped at the rich warm liquid.  It helped.

      “Good
morning, Senora Anderson.  I hope you’re feeling better.  I made some apple
turnovers for you this morning.”

      “Thank
you, Juanita.  I’d love some.”  She wasn’t hungry but she had to try.  Saying a
secret prayer, she promised Mark that she would try.

      After
breakfast, Ellen went into the attic to sort out the Christmas decorations. 
Both women spent the remainder of the morning testing lights and checking
ornaments for breakage.  Ellen sat on the floor and opened a large box.  She
reached in and pulled out a glistening, white church scene.  The steeple church
sparkled with snow.  It’s interior glowed with an amber light.  Miniature
children played on sleds among snow covered spruces in front. Ellen smiled
remembering when she and Mark picked it out together.  They had driven into
Gatlinburg for the day. She plugged it in and the little church came alive
inside with a warm glow.  It was a music box and played Silent Night. She
remembered snuggling in Mark’s arms and watching the glow. Suddenly she could
no longer bear to look at it.  her fingers reached for the plug and the little
church went dark.            

      The
next box was full of gaudy ornaments that Mark couldn’t stand. She used to hang
them on the tree right in the front just to watch him shudder.  Now there was
no point in hanging them up anymore.  These beautiful memories of Christmases
past should have been a comfort for her but it seemed they had the opposite
effect.  Seeing these signs of the season made her miss Mark so much that the
emotional pain was excruciating. It was easier not to think about it.  Better
to just let the season go by as quickly as possible without the reminders that
she would be spending Christmas without Mark.        Tears stung her eyes.  Ellen
couldn’t do this. There was not going to be a tree or decorations this season. 

      “I’m
sorry, Mark,” she whispered. “I just can’t.” 

      Her
fingers worked quickly putting everything back in the boxes.

      Juanita
looked puzzled. “Senora. Anderson?  Why you put Christmas back?”                                              

      “I
can’t do it Juanita.”  Ellen’s voice caught on a sob.  “I thought I could.  I
tried, but I can’t.”  She looked helplessly at her housekeeper as tears
streamed down her cheeks.

      “It’s
okay, Senora.”  Juanita put a sympathetic arm around her.  “I understand.  Senor
Anderson...” she looked up to the heavens.  “He will understand too.” She
reached for Ellen’s hand and patted it. “I help you put back.”

      At
midnight Ellen sat up in bed and opened her eyes, trying to recall the
startling details of the dream.  Her breathing was coming in gasping sobs.  The
dream was so real her whole body was trembling with the impact of it.

      A
man was walking toward her and he was smiling with love.  When he got closer,
Ellen realized it was Mark. She ran to him.  She reached out for him but like a
rainbow, his image kept eluding her.  She screamed.  “Mark, please. Let me come
to you. Let me touch you.  I belong with you.”  Then she shuddered as his words
chilled her.

      “No
my sweet Ellen, you don’t, not anymore.  What we had was beautiful.  Believe me
when I say I will always love you and be here to watch over you.  But you must
find the strength to go on without me.  Don’t shut yourself off my darling. 
You were meant to be loved. Find a man who can give you a lifetime.  Find him
and be happy.”                                                     

      In
the dream, Mark was receding in the distance. Ellen began running.  She
stumbled and fell but struggled to her feet. “Mark, please!  Come back, I need
you.  I can’t go on without you.  I can’t...I can’t...Mark!  Mark,” she
screamed.  It was her own voice that woke her.  Ellen tried to still her
breathing.  She wiped the moisture from her eyes.  The dream was a message. 
Mark came to tell her something important.

      Ellen
got up and went downstairs for a glass of milk.  She thought about the dream
and what it meant.  Her deceased  husband was telling her loud and clear it was
time to move on with her life.  This time Ellen snuggled into the covers and
slept soundly with no dreams for the rest of the night.

      Sipping
her morning coffee, Ellen reached over to pick up the paper. There it was in
bold print.  SINGLES MIXER TONIGHT AT THE CEDAR GROVE MOOSE LODGE. A live band
and refreshments will be served.  Did she actually possess the courage to walk
into a gathering like that?  Well, Ellen thought, this will be a first, because
she was going to do it. 

      The
dream was still there very real inside her head. Ellen promised Mark in her
heart she would be strong for him. She just needed an attitude change and a lot
of intestinal fortitude.

Amazingly
enough, just making an affirmative decision had her feeling better.  It was
still morning, plenty of time to go out shopping for a new outfit.                          

      Ellen
sat in her locked car in the darkened parking lot of the local Moose Club.  People
were walking into the clubhouse in groups, young men and women laughing and
chatting.  Nobody was going in alone. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.  Her
hand reached for the keys to start the car.  Ellen's mind was screaming
coward.  Many hours had been spent picking out clothes and getting ready for
this evening.  And now she was going to throw it all away because she was too
shy to walk into a place where singles gathered? 

      Ellen
took a deep breath, put the keys in her purse and zipped it tight.  Okay, now
she needed to step out of the car, grow a backbone and just get in there.  She would
not chicken out, not this time.

Ellen
walked in the door and looked around.  It was a spacious mountain chalet that
had been converted into a lodge.  Three women sat at a table in the foyer making
name tags.  Ellen felt as if she were stepping into her first high school
dance.

      “Hello,
and your name is?”

      “Ellen
Anderson.” 

      “Ellen? 
Are you a member of our Singles Club or a guest?”

      “A
guest.”

      The
woman smiled warmly.  “My name is Kate. Welcome, Ellen.  Please make yourself
at home.”

      Ellen
thanked Kate and pulled the sticky backing off her name tag.  Her suede, beige
pumps clicked across the gleaming hardwood floor.

      A
crackling fire roared in the enormous fireplace, its light reflecting off the
polished floor.  A large fir Christmas tree twinkled in the corner and colorful
holiday decorations hung from the rafters.

The
party was an obvious success as the room was crowded.  Groups of people stood
talking and some were dancing to the music played by a local, country band.

      Ellen
did not expect to see anybody she knew, but she thought maybe some people would
be by themselves rather than hanging out in groups. She walked around feeling
ill at ease and tried to talk herself out of leaving. Maybe she could pick out
a group and sort of stand on the periphery like she knew the people.  Ellen
remembered she had no trouble introducing herself to the ladies at the fair. 
Was this venue so different?

      Ellen
was wearing a cashmere tangerine sweater with a V-neck displaying a tantalizing
curve of breast.  Her shoulder length honey hair framed her face in soft, silky
waves. Her  printed, wool skirt picked up the colors in the sweater and was
calf length with buttons down the front.  Ellen had left several of the bottom
buttons undone to reveal a shapely leg. 

      A
few of the men turned to stare and she felt their hot gazes focused on her
nylon-clad legs. The thought crossed her mind to head for the ladies room and
re-button the skirt.  Perhaps her choice of clothing was not a good idea for
this gathering. Perhaps being here was not a good idea. Ellen's level of
discomfort accelerated at an alarming rate. Okay, sniveling coward, she
thought. Dr. Carrington believes you to be strong.  Yeah, right, what does he know? 
You’re going to smile, be sociable and tough this evening out if it kills you. 
Ellen Anderson, you are not going to run away. Remember the dream, Mark is
watching.

      She
walked over to the refreshment table with her back ramrod straight. Picking up
a plate, Ellen selected some tiny sandwiches, olives, carrot sticks, and potato
salad.  The punch looked like an interesting mixture of fruit juice and sherbet
so she poured herself some.  Then she peered over the groups of people and
tried to select a friendly looking bunch.  Being shy and quiet most of her
life, Ellen was having trouble conquering this annoying discomfort.

      “Mmm,
I like what I see here.”  A gruff male voice
boomed behind her.

      Ellen
startled, almost spilling the punch she held.  Turning to see who belonged to
the voice, her eyes widened. The man was a giant and she had to look up to meet
his eyes.  From the scruffy gray beard to the lumber jack plaid shirt, and the Santa
Claus protruding belly, Ellen shook her head and tried to regain her
composure.  She felt a hysterical laugh deep inside just dying to be set free.