Page 17 of The Liar I Married
I’m way too jumpy. What’s wrong with me? I need to stop acting like an idiot and pull myself together. I return the poker and head into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and search the refrigerator for the meal my housekeeper has left me. I find a lasagna with a side salad. It’s enough to feed all of us. As I slide a portion of the lasagna into the microwave to reheat and add a side salad to my plate, my phone buzzes again. It’s a message from John.
I’m staying in town tonight. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.
I thumb a reply:Take your time. I won’t be here tomorrow.
Don’t be difficult, Jessie. You know how these dinner meetings can go on until late at night and you don’t want me driving drunk, do you?
I decline to reply and carry my dinner into the family room. John won’t allow us to eat meals in front of the TV but he’s not here tonight, is he? This breaking of the rules feels like freedom and I sit down and put my feet on the coffee table. I chuckle at my small act of defiance. Watching TV doesn’t help. After eating,I dump my plates in the dishwasher and head to my bedroom. Each sound brings back the gnawing feeling inside that insists someone is out there watching me. It’s playing tricks with my mind. Most people have a particular thing they fear more than anything else—right? Although I hate to admit it, the one thing that frightens me is being watched and not knowing when someone is going to pounce on me.
I climb into bed but sleep eludes me. It’s as if every creak of the house and rustle of the wind is feeding my growing paranoia. I really need to talk to someone about this, but who? John is more distant than ever and my mother would brush it off, saying I’ve always been scared of my own shadow and I need to grow up. I want to close my eyes and drift off, leaving this house behind in dreams, but darkness presses in on me, heavy and suffocating.
I know someone is out there watching.
Waiting.
NINETEEN
NOW
Steam swirls around me as I stand from the chair inside the shower. This morning I insisted on showering alone but I admit having the chair is the sensible thing to do. I wrap a towel tightly around myself, as the cool morning air chills my skin. Dolly has laid a fresh hospital gown on the chair beside the sink. I need to act as normal as possible and spend time in front of the mirror, using the moisturizer and brushing my hair until it shines. After pulling on the gown, I head out of the bathroom door. It is much easier now the door’s been wedged open. It’s not as if anyone will see me in the bathroom and, since the visit from John’s lawyer, nobody has been by to see me.
I’m jumpy and didn’t get much sleep. I rerun what happened the previous night, trying to get my head around it. The memory frightens me. Not knowing if it’s true or I’m sleepwalking through a nightmare is disturbing. I can’t risk telling Dolly I heard a phone ringing in the office and then discovered it was dead or she’ll jab me with the needle. I should be able to trust her but she reports everything to the doctor. Is she really a friend or a spy? Right now I’m not sure.
I know I heard the phone ringing—or was it a dream? Dreams are so vivid of late but I’ve never been prone tosleepwalking in my life and the hard slog to the office had been real enough—hadn’t it? The thing is, why would someone call and wait right until I picked up the phone before disconnecting—as if they’re watching me? Dolly watches me all the time, doesn’t she? I rub my temples, trying to make sense of everything. There’s no reason Dolly would be working against me; she’s here to help me recover—isn’t she? I’m confused, as if I’m hovering between reality and dream state. Is this the plan? Is someone trying to make me question my sanity?
As I walk toward the bed, I stop mid-stride. My heart hammers in my chest at the sight of a vase on the nightstand, overflowing with dark-red roses, the petals still damp with the morning dew—the same roses I saw cradled in my mother’s arms yesterday. Yet Dolly insisted she and the girls hadn’t visited. How did the flowers end up in my room or is it part of a twisted game someone is playing? I’m questioning reality. Are the flowers really there or an illusion?
I push the walker closer. Panic grips me and sweat trickles down my back. I must keep it together and take small steps. The roses haven’t moved or shimmered out of existence but I’m no longer sure of anything. Are they real or am I imagining them? My fingers tremble as I touch a petal but under my flesh the softness is too real and the color too vivid. I inhale the intoxicating fragrance. This is no vision. Is someone trying to send me a message? My mind sifts through the fragments of yesterday’s confusion and the heartbreaking glimpse of my girls. It was so real and yet Dolly insisted she walked the grounds after I was asleep and found no trace of anyone.
Dizzy, I sit in a chair beside the window just as Maria pushes her cart into the bedroom with my breakfast. As she adjusts the overbed table and brings it to the chair, I smile at her. I must appear normal. I don’t know who to trust anymore. “The roses are beautiful; did you pick them for me?”
“No, I found them on the kitchen table this morning when I arrived, already in the vase.” Maria busies herself by placing my breakfast on the tray in front of me. “I assumed one of the gardeners brought them in for you. I told them you like fresh flowers inside your room.”
I beckon her closer. “Can you find out? I’m sure I saw a woman in the garden with two children yesterday, but I’d been sleeping and it could have been a dream. Did you see anyone around the house late yesterday afternoon?”
“No, I was at the store yesterday afternoon until a little after four-thirty.” Maria frowns. “I’ll be sure to ask the gardeners when I speak to them about the flowers.”
I nod, thankful that she is an ally and doesn’t question my motives. “Thanks, but please don’t mention it to Dolly. I don’t want her to believe I’m imagining things.”
“You have my word.” Maria smiles. “I’ve given you an entire pot of coffee today. I understand that Dolly gave you an injection to make you sleep yesterday. I thought it might help you this morning. There’s nothing worse than waking up after being drugged, is there?”
As the sound of footsteps come along the passageway, Maria hurries away with her head down as usual. I glance up from my plate as Dolly walks into the room; she is carrying a pile of clothes. “Your husband sent these over by courier. They’re new but have been laundered for comfort. We estimated your size so I hope they will fit. He also included an assortment of your favorite cosmetics.”
The pile of clothes in her hands are a mix of purples and pinks, which are my favorite colors. Just the sight of them makes me excited. I smile. It will be so good to get out of this hospital gown. I sigh. “Did he say when he would be dropping by again?”
“Oh, around ten and he’s giving you time to adjust in between. He’s following the doctor’s instructions.” Dolly lays theclothes and bag of cosmetics within my grasp. “He wants to do the right thing and make sure you recover completely.”
I sip my coffee. “I’m sure he does.”
“Your lawyer, Mr. Collins, called. He will be arriving at nine-thirty and your husband’s lawyer at ten.” Dolly’s gaze moves over my face as if assessing me. “I will be updating the doctor this morning. Have you had any more thoughts on what happened yesterday?”
So Maria came through. I can trust her. I look at Dolly and consider her words. To give myself more time to reply, I push a forkful of eggs into my mouth and chew. This is obviously a trick question, which needs an answer to pacify her. “Since I woke, I’ve been having some very vivid nightmares. They’re about the accident but it’s just troubled thoughts, it doesn’t tell me what exactly happened or even who was in the vehicle. I know I’m dreaming. I fell asleep a number of times reading my book yesterday. In the story is a scene about two little girls and I guess I was thinking about my own girls when I believed I heard them outside the window. I miss my family very much, so I assume that’s what triggered it. It seemed so real at the time but now on second thought it was just wishful thinking.” I meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Harper; that’s what I’m here for.” She smiles. “Your primary care is my greatest concern. Seeing you recover is the only reward I need. The fact that you understand the difference between dreams and reality is a very positive step in your recovery. I’ll be sure to tell the doctor and maybe he will allow more of your family members to visit you.”
I finish my breakfast as fast as possible and dive into the pile of clothes. I feel like a teenager again as I slide the designer labels over my new slim body. The fit is almost perfect, and John has got the selection of cosmetics just right. I look young and fresh, almost the same as when we first met. At last I’ll be able tohold my own in front of Ms. Lawson. I spray a little Chanel No. 5 behind each ear and smile at my reflection. Isn’t it amazing how a few clothes and a little makeup can boost your ego to such an extent?
TWENTY
