Authors: Carol Walsh Greer
"I'd really rather not go all the
way back. He could be right around here. Do you have a cell phone?" she
asked.
"No. Do you?"
"Back on the seat of my car,"
Claudia lied, raising an eyebrow accusingly. "Too bad we brought your SUV
instead."
Susan didn't want to get into an
argument. All she wanted to do was get out of these woods.
"Well, I'm sorry about that. I
thought we'd find Diesel relatively easily. But since we didn't, let's go back
and make the call. Should have done it in the first place." Susan turned
around and headed out of the woods.
Claudia stood her ground while Susan
made her way back to the car, walking quickly and purposefully. Soon she was
obscured by the foliage, and she hadn't looked back even once to see if her
search partner were following.
Well this was a fine how-do-you-do.
Claudia had thought that if she'd refused to leave the woods, Susan would come
back, ask what the problem was, and then they could finally have The
Conversation. But it seemed Susan was the sort of person who would just leave a
stranger in the woods to suffer whatever fate should befall her. Really, what a
cold woman she was.
Left with no alternative, Claudia
regretfully retraced her steps out of the woods and onto the road. Susan was
already in the SUV with the engine running. Claudia climbed in the passenger
side.
"I don't know what to say. He was
there. He was right there."
Susan didn't answer. She pulled into the
road for the short drive back to her house.
Claudia willed herself to remain calm.
This was it – the last chance to save her relationship with Mark – and she had
been acting like a frightened little girl. Her cause was just, her reasoning
sound. There was no need to be intimidated by the woman hunched over the wheel
in the seat next to her.
She pulled off her glove, dug into the
bag in her pocket for some more trail mix and began to eat. She did it
tentatively at first, remembering Susan's earlier snide remarks, but then she
grew bolder. Why should she be ashamed of having some trail mix? Why had she
allowed herself to be cowed into not eating? She was hungry, for Pete's sake.
It wasn't like she'd suggested pouring a martini instead of looking for the
stupid dog. A person has to eat.
She glanced over at Susan and sized her
up. Even without make-up on her face she looked pretty good, maybe a little
green around the gills. She was pretty enough. Not gorgeous, certainly. She had
the little lines around her eyes of a woman who spent a lot of time squinting
into the sunshine. She was going to look old by the time she was in her
mid-forties.
For her part, Susan kept her eyes on the
road. The more time she spent with Melanie, the more uncomfortable she felt.
The woman was sitting there eating again, pulling whatever it was out of her
pocket and popping it in her mouth, crunching away, not saying a word. It had
been extremely foolish to agree to go anywhere with a stranger, even one as
fragile as this one appeared to be. Never again.
Just as she was pulling into her driveway,
Susan began to feel a weird tightening in her throat. It was slightly hard to
swallow, as if her glands had swollen, and her tongue tingled. Was it just a
panic reaction, like that weird feeling a person gets up his spine in the face
of danger? It felt like panic – at least, as the feeling persisted and grew a
bit stronger, she found herself beginning to panic. Susan breathed in slowly
through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth, counting to four both ways as
she did so. She had to stay calm. All she had to do was stay calm, get home,
get out of the car, and get this woman on her way. Under no circumstances would
she allow Melanie into her house.
"Well, here we are," she
announced, pulling over the gravel of her drive. She received no acknowledgment
she'd even been heard. "Listen, Melanie, to be honest, I'm not feeling
great right now. I don't know what it is. I'll give the
Richardsons
a call and let them take over from here."
Still no response, only chewing. What
was she eating? What was that smell?
"I want to go in the house and be
alone. Maybe lie down," she said, driving around Claudia's little car and
pulling under the carport. "I think you've done everything you can under
the circumstances. Why don't you just head off to meet your friend?"
Susan put the car in park and removed
the key from the ignition. Claudia turned to face her, in despair that this
last chance was slipping away. What could she possibly say now? She'd blown the
whole thing. Sitting here in the SUV, it all seemed so ridiculous. What had she
been thinking? What a stupid plan it had been anyway! Had she really thought
she could just talk to Susan and make her understand? Susan wasn't the sort of
woman to listen to reason. She could tell.
So what should she do at this point? Say,
"Guess what? There wasn't a dog. I made that up to get you into the car to
have a private conversation. Please divorce your husband." It wasn't going
to work.
Claudia's heart sank in utter defeat.
Was it over? Was it all really over after all this time? After all she'd been
through – she'd been so sick, and she'd fought her way back to health – she
could have died! And through everything, the one thing she'd known was that her
relationship with Mark was real, the only thing that mattered in her life anymore.
He was the one, the only one destined for her. And now it wasn't going to
happen.
She shook her head. "I don't feel
good about leaving. I'm the one who hit the dog."
"No, no. I'll explain what
happened. I know the
Richardsons
," Susan
swallowed again. A little harder than the last time. "They'll
understand." She put her hand on the latch to open her door.
Claudia watched the hand, saw Susan
pulling away, and knew she couldn't let it end like this. She had come all the
way here to say something, and if she didn't, she would always regret it.
Claudia clutched at Susan's sleeve.
"You know he loved me. I think he might still love me. He's just
confused."
Susan paused with the door half open and
turned to face her passenger. "I'm sorry? I don't think I heard you."
Claudia looked at Susan – Mark's Susan –
and knew this was the end. She had lost Mark. This was as close as she was ever
going to be to him again. Susan was the woman he was living with, eating
breakfast with and lying down with every night. This was the woman he would
make love to, rear children with. They would fight, they would make up. They
would be ill, they would go on vacations. She was his family.
A cold breeze blew into the SUV through
the partially opened door and freshened the air. The smell that had been
hovering in the atmosphere dissipated a little. It refreshed Susan enough that
the panic she'd been experiencing, although not really relieved, at least
didn't worsen. Susan looked at the face of this odd, odd woman: a face thick
with pancake makeup, mascara smudged beneath her eyes like angry bruises, and a
few tenacious crumbs of whatever she'd been eating clinging to the lipstick
that had clumped in the corners of her mouth.
"He kissed me you know. It wasn't
just the sex. You don't kiss a woman like that unless you mean it,"
Claudia continued, speaking rapidly, frantic to get her point across. Susan
felt the fear growing in the pit of her stomach, and there it was: that tingle
up the spine.
"Look, I think you're feeling out
of sorts," she said soothingly. She had to get away. "I don't really
understand what you're talking about. I'm going into the house now. It's time
for you to leave." Susan moved to get out.
"Please, don't," Claudia said,
grabbing hold of Susan's wrist and causing her to turn back in surprise.
Claudia looked at her rival intently,
trying to see her as Mark did, trying to understand what magic she had. She
explored the face that Mark looked at every night, the face he woke up to,
the
face he loved. The eyes, the cheeks, all of it. He must
have told Susan a million times that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever
known. He must have murmured into her hair how lucky he was to have her, how
she was so special. Did Susan even notice it anymore? Did she appreciate it?
Claudia looked at Susan's mouth, the
lips that Mark kissed before going to work each morning and each night when
they lay in bed together. Her mouth bore his imprint: his lips had been on
hers; the last lips that had touched Susan's had been his.
A sudden flash of decision made Claudia
loose her grip on Susan's wrist. Before her captive had the chance to react to
freedom, Claudia reached up, clasped Susan's head and yanked it toward her own.
Drawing a ragged breath, she forced Susan's face toward hers and kissed that
mouth – a hard, desperate kiss. She was kissing the lips that had kissed
Mark's, the lips that belonged to Mark. She was kissing him goodbye: a real
goodbye this time – forever – even if he would never know it.
The kiss lasted five seconds, maybe more.
Claudia pulled away from it to see Susan staring at her in terror, her mouth
open.
"I'm sorry," Claudia gasped,
flustered and abashed at her own behavior and pulling the door latch to make an
escape. "I had to. I had to say goodbye."
Susan didn't seem to hear her.
"Peanuts," she whispered.
"You've been eating peanuts." She shook her head twice quickly, as if
trying to focus her thoughts or her vision, pushing her door fully open.
"What? What do you mean?"
Claudia asked, bewildered. "Yes, peanuts in my trail mix.
"I'm allergic," came the gasp
as Susan stepped out of the car. "Bad. I need to get to the house.
EpiPen
." The breathing was already becoming harder.
The grass suddenly looked very green and very close, the sun was blinding. She
just had to make it back around to the front of the house, up the porch, in
through the front door and all the way back to the kitchen. She had to get to
her medicine.
"
EpiPen
?
What's an
EpiPen
?" Claudia called, opening the
glove compartment and rifling through its contents.
Susan didn't talk – she didn't want to
talk – not to this woman who had come out of nowhere to kill her. Why would
this stranger want to kill her?
No, Susan, don't imagine things, not
now. You must remain calm and think clearly. It was an accident. You know what
to do when there's an accident. Stay calm.
She continued her slow journey to the
house. Her tongue was filling her mouth now. Her lips itched terribly. It was a
long way. When had they moved the house so far away?
She couldn't do this alone. She couldn't
catch her breath. She had to have help. Melanie. Melanie had to help. She tried
to say it, to call the name, but she couldn't get the word out. Where was
Melanie? She would know to help, wouldn't she?
Claudia stood beside Susan's car and
watched, stunned. What should she do? Should she go after her? Should she call
911?
In the time it took for Susan to walk
five steps, Claudia knew what she had to do. She shut the door of the SUV,
walked over to her own car and got in. Turning the key in the ignition, she
watched Susan struggle to the steps. She considered the odds: Susan really had
a very good chance of getting into the house in time to save herself, as long
as there wasn't any problem opening that front door. If she'd locked the door
when they left, though, it might be a close call. Claudia couldn't for the life
of her remember if Susan had locked the door. Oh, well. Not in her best
interest to stick around and find out.
Claudia backed down the driveway
carefully, then turned the car in the direction of the highway, thinking about
what she should do with the rest of her day. One thing she absolutely had to do
was find a service station or rest stop somewhere so that she could wash her
face. The makeup felt annoyingly heavy. It was probably bad for her skin
anyway. She thought she might also dye her hair back to brown tomorrow
afternoon. Blond might be fun for some people, but it wasn't really her bag.
Holding the thermos between her legs, she
unscrewed the top with one hand, took a sip from the spout, and smiled. Claudia
had learned an important lesson today: it wasn't necessary to over-plan things.
As a matter of fact, it was worse than useless. Problems arose when Claudia
tried to manage life, instead of simply letting the good things fate had in
store for her happen appear in their own sweet time. The universe had its own
way of working everything out. Life can turn on a dime. You just have to hang
in there.
The End