The Widow's Walk (28 page)

But most of all, did she truly love Garrett? That was the real question, and she knew it. It had been so long since she had experienced real love, she wasn't sure what it felt like anymore. She already loved him as she might love a brother. And she knew that her romantic and sexual feelings for him roiled just beneath the surface, yearning to be unleashed. Given enough time, would they at last blossom? And would she then have enough closure about Adam to act on them?

Sometimes the more she thought about Adam, the more she truly believed that she did in fact want a romantic and sexual relationship with Garrett. To anyone unfamiliar with her situation, these feelings would probably seem contradictory and selfish, perhaps even adulterous. But her marriage to Adam had been arranged, and love had come later. Garrett was as good a man as Adam had been, and she saw no reason why she couldn't come to love him too. But was that true love? Or was true love something more immediate and visceral, like an unexpected thunderbolt?

Brooke had said that for their attempt to succeed, Garrett's love for Constance must be unconditional and know no bounds. That needn't also be true about Constance's feelings for Garrett, however. According to Brooke, she needed only believe strongly enough in his love for her, and of that she had no doubts. So many times now Garrett had already illustrated his undying devotion. It was like something straight out of a storybook, in which the handsome hero comes to rescue the fair damsel who has been imprisoned in a dark tower. Then again, such storybook lovers never had to overcome a force so powerful as the
mora mortis
.

And if she and Garrett failed in the attempt, what would death be like? she wondered. Could it possibly be any worse than the last seventeen decades through which she had already suffered? Might she be reunited in death with her husband, Adam? And if so, how could that be a bad thing?

Conversely, should they succeed, then what would her new life then be like? Could she continue to live here at Seaside with Garrett, for not only would she wish to stay, but he would want that too. His restoration of Seaside would eventually be complete, and all the furniture from the barn cellar would be returned to the house. Would they perhaps marry and have children? And given the passage of time would she find enough closure regarding Adam, at last allowing her to fully enjoy her new life?

Just then she realized that she had made her decision, and that her answer to Garrett must be yes. When Garrett arrived home tonight she would tell him, and she knew how happy he would be. But most of all, she believed that she had finally made the right choice, no matter the risks that she and Garrett must take. And if their trial succeeded, she no longer had any doubt that she could be happy with Garrett, even if her brotherly love for him never turned into anything more.

When she looked out the window again, this time she saw Garrett's Jeep coming up the dirt road toward the house. And with his arrival, she realized something else.

She had at last found a reason to live.

Chapter 30

Two days later, Garrett sat alone in his business office, thinking. Like Constance, he too had come to a crossroads regarding her imprisonment. When she told him that she wanted to try, he had been overjoyed. But later on, he realized there were some things to be considered.

Standing from his desk, he crossed the room and walked to the large picture window in the opposite wall. He looked out over the restless Atlantic, its wintertime waves now gray, and froth-tipped. They would retain that appearance until next summer, when the weather warmed and they returned to a beautiful dark blue. Would he and Constance live to see that lovely transformation? he wondered. He hoped with all his heart that would be the case, but in truth he had absolutely no way of knowing what might happen to them.

As Garrett had considered all of this during the last two days, he also realized that there were other people to consider besides just him and Constance. His death would have a huge effect upon Trent, his parents, and his sister and her family.

He was not worried about his last will and testament, because it had been drafted only two years ago and he remained very familiar with its language. In the event of his death everything he owned—including Seaside—went to his sister, Christine. Should she wish to have Jay finish the restoration, there would be plenty of money left. Yesterday he informed his attorney about the antique furniture hidden in the barn cellar and ordered him to inform his sister of it, in the event of his death.

Trent would inherit his share of the business, which was only right, because Trent had worked so hard to help make it a success. Save for a few personal items, his parents weren't mentioned. But then again, they didn't need anything from him and they were sure to understand. Not wishing to leave any of his affairs unattended, yesterday Garrett had presented a check to Jay Morgan, which more than paid for any outstanding expenses incurred to date.

He had considered leaving a note, should he die in the attempt. But he soon decided against it, because he didn't want anyone thinking that he had committed suicide. He would, however, take a sledgehammer to the widow's walk front railing, thereby making it appear that it had somehow failed, causing him to fall to his death. Should he die, to spare his family any additional grief, he wanted it to appear as an accident. They would all be beyond consoling, but that was something over which he had no control.

He very much hoped that he had planned for every contingency, but in his heart he knew that was probably impossible. The best he could do was to consider all the resulting consequences, do what he could about them, and then let things take their course. Overall he believed that he had covered things as best he could. Because Constance was growing continually weaker they had agreed to do this thing tonight, when they would be alone at Seaside.

Garrett continued to look out over the ocean, thinking. So as not to arouse suspicion, he would leave work at the usual time. Although he very much wanted to say good night to Trent he knew that he could not, for fear of breaking down and uttering something too revealing. Nor did he dare visit his parents or his sister this night for the same reason.

If he and Constance failed in the attempt, he would then take Constance's place and be imprisoned at Seaside, trapped forever between the worlds of life and death. His only hope for salvation would occur if someone else came along and loved him the way that he loved Constance, and if she were willing to risk her life to try freeing him. But he knew the likelihood of such a thing happening twice was virtually impossible. And so, if he became trapped between worlds he would likely remain that way for all time. He could only stand by and watch, desperately hoping that Christine would finish the restoration of the house as he had intended it to be.

And so it was that around 5:30
P
.
M
. Garrett packed up his briefcase then walked downstairs and happily waved good-bye to the receptionist, just as he did every night. Before getting into his Jeep, for what might well be the last time, he turned and took a long look back at his offices. But before he went to join Constance, he had a job to do.

F
OUR HOURS LATER
G
ARRETT
sat in his Jeep, the vehicle's lights off, the motor purring quietly as he waited where the road to Seaside curved leftward and one first saw the house. He could see Constance sitting on the porch, waiting for him. The sun had fallen some time ago and bright stars filled the heavens, while ever-restless waves washed up against the shoreline. He had an important task to perform, but he could only do it when Constance was inside the house, for he didn't want her to know.

As he waited, the passing minutes seemed like hours. How he longed to go and sit with her, but he could not. He must wait here no matter how long it took, and then go join her only when his work was done. After another twenty minutes or so, he saw her pick up the electric lantern, and she walked into the house.

For ten minutes more he lingered before putting the Jeep into gear and slowly making a wide circle around the house to the left, driving along the edge of the woods that curved around behind the barn. The Jeep's lights still off, he at last came to the place he wanted. An old dirt road, long since covered over with branches and leaves wound its way into the woods, he knew not how far. He had first seen it during one of his trips to the barn and had always meant to walk that road and discover where it led, but hadn't done so. Using only the moonlight to guide his way, he carefully inched the Jeep up the road until both the barn and the lights shining from within Seaside were gone from view.

After traveling another fifty yards or so he found a relatively clear space on the right, shining in the moonlight. He stopped the Jeep, killed the engine, and then went to investigate it. The small, relatively bare area seemed perfect for his needs.

He then returned to the Jeep to grab up the shovel and pickax lying on the passenger-side floor. After carrying the tools to the small clearing, he first loosened a section of ground with the pickax then dug a deep hole with the shovel. When he had finished he went back to the Jeep, started the engine again, and drove the vehicle close to the waiting hole. Little by little he removed the contents of the Jeep, placed them into the hole, and then finally filled the hole with the remaining dirt, followed by enough leaves and branches to ensure that the place looked undisturbed.

Thinking, he glanced around. After a few minutes he found three stones, which he brought back to the clearing. He made a small pile in the center of the clearing—one not so obvious that it would appear staged to some passerby, but enough to mark the spot for someone who knew where to look.

His task complete, Garrett loaded the tools back into the Jeep, started the engine again, and then returned by way of the same route. Once he reached the road, he switched on the lights and drove to the house.

Chapter 31

The house was dark, save for some light coming through the dining room windows, where Constance was waiting for him. As usual, he was about to turn off the engine when he stopped himself. If things did not go well tonight, there was no point in anyone having to hunt for car keys. And so he drove the Jeep around to one side of the house, then he killed the engine and purposely left the keys in the ignition.

Constance was sitting on the sofa. She had not lit a fire in the fireplace tonight, and Garrett silently approved of her precaution, should things go totally awry. He put his briefcase down on the coffee table and smiled at her as best he could. To his great dismay, she looked the worst he had ever seen. Clearly her deterioration was progressing even more rapidly now, and he found himself doubting that she would survive for more than another two or three days this way.

He sat down beside her and looked into her eyes.

“Hello there,” he said to her. “How are you feeling?”

Constance closed her eyes and nodded. The lines on her face were deeply etched now, her hair had become uniformly gray, and she was very thin. Worst yet, her physicality had become so translucent that it was almost as if she wasn't there at all. She had failed so much even since saying good-bye to him this morning that he could scarcely believe it.

“I am here, Garrett,” she said weakly. Then she did her best to smile back at him. “I stand ready to do this, but I fear that you must carry me to the roof. As it was, I could hardly make it to the sofa.”

Although they were far too large on her now, she was wearing her favorite clothing that he had bought her—the white blouse, the dress jeans, the leather jacket, and the cowboy boots. She clutched her new purse in her hands, causing him to wonder. After pointing at her purse, he smiled mischievously.

“Planning on going somewhere?” he asked.

She smiled back.

“I am hoping so,” she answered. “But first, some handsome devil that I know is going to have to lift me up into his strong arms.”

He looked at her purse and smiled again.

“Do you think we can take things along where we're going?” he asked.

“I have no idea, but I could see no harm in trying.”

With that, Garrett's expression turned more serious. Reaching out, he ran one hand through her hair, then he lovingly stroked her cheek.

“If we don't make it, there's something that I want you to know,” he said. “I—”

“I know,” Constance answered. “I have always known.”

Garrett stood up.

“Then it's time, my love,” he said to her.

Garrett helped her to stand, then he picked her up in his arms. To his surprise, she felt light as a feather, as if there was nothing left of her. After taking a last look around he carried her up the stairs, then up the second flight of stairs that led to the roof.

It was a beautiful evening. The dark night sky was filled with lovely stars and a light breeze caressed their faces as Garrett and Constance gazed out at the ocean. The newly refurbished widow's walk glistened beautifully in the moonlight, as if beckoning them to come sit upon one of its benches and languidly take in the view. But they could not do so this night, because time was running out. Still holding Constance in his arms, Garrett looked into her eyes.

“Can you stand?” he asked her.

“I think so.”

Garrett set her feet gently down upon the roof and helped to steady her. He then looked back at the widow's walk, and to the sledgehammer he had put there before leaving for work this morning. Its business end sat on the floor, and its strong wooden handle lay propped against the bench.

“I have a bit of work to do,” he said to Constance.

“I know,” she answered. “It's a shame, but it must be done.”

Garrett went back to the widow's walk and picked up the sledgehammer. He then climbed to the second floor, where he began boldly swinging the sledgehammer against the front rail that faced the Atlantic Ocean. After a few stout blows the rail gave way, its many splintered pieces falling down onto Seaside's roof. He then climbed down, walked to the farthest most edge of the roof, and threw the sledgehammer as far away into the night as he could. When he returned to Constance, he saw tears tracing down her cheeks.