Page 28 of Wildwood

“I’m going to make a sandwich,” he finally says.

“Okay, I’ll take Hugo out.”

“Everything is fine, Elinor. Okay? You are just having stress dreams.” Topher’s tone is softer now.

What he’s saying is logical. And I want to believe it. I will believe it. But I also know, in some primal way, that the house has other ideas.

Chapter 24

I’ve decided to tackle the decaying conservatory. I need a project, something to keep my hands and, hopefully, mind busy. So, after Topher leaves for work, I drag hedge clippers, a rake, and a trash bag out to the large glass room. Slowly and methodically, I rake the dead leaves into a pile. Then I walk around, clipping dead and dying limbs and leaves. I don’t entirely know what I’m doing and hope I’m not inadvertently killing them.

Next, I take big armfuls of the brush and shove them into the trash bag. I’m sweating with the effort in a short period of time, strands of hair falling over my eyes. When it’s all bagged up, I look around satisfied. My dad would have approved. Then I turn on the hose and water all the plants. It’s therapeutic watching the water droplets fall on the leaves, the gentle sound of rain. Finally, I drag out a big bucket of water, a step stool, and a sponge. I get to work, scrubbing every window, as high as I can safely reach. The bucket of clear water quickly turns a muddy green and I have to switch it out three times before the room is complete. It’s taken me over an hour to wash the windows. They aren’t perfect, by any stretch, but they are worlds better than before.

I’m standing in the center of the room, surveying my work, when I sense a shadowy presence in the periphery of my vision. I whip my head around but don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Then I hear it before I see it. A screech and a beating. And then a whir of black flies past my head. It all happens so quickly I cannot process it right away. But I know I hear a thunk. When I turn in the direction the thing flew, I see a small spiderweb of cracks on the window and a streak of deep red blood.

My stomach drops. I take one cautious step then another toward the glass wall. I look down and see a small black bird, convulsing on the white gravel, its eyes glassy and blank. Shit. I cover my mouth with my hand. Shit shit shit.

I feel bile rising up in me and I lurch toward the bucket, where I vomit into the slimy, green water.

Outside, the sky is beginning to darken, and I can see the first hints of stars in the sky. I find a shovel then dig a small hole at the edge of the meadow and bury the bird. All the while, I’m telling myself, This was just an accident, nothing more. But when I hear the thud of the bird hitting the glass, over and over in my head, my mind whispers back, But what if it was an omen? What if it was a sign from her?

I shake my head vigorously, trying to knock the words out of my brain. Her? And who exactly do you think she is? A witch? I bite the inside of my cheek, realizing I’m trying, and failing, to logic-shame my own inner monologue.

When I finish, I stand leaning against the shovel, trying to quell the nausea in my belly, the fluttering of my heart. It’s over. You took care of it. I’m about to head back inside, when, from somewhere deeper in the woods, I hear a faint crunch, the snapping of a twig. My breath catches and I listen, frozen in place. A moment later, it comes again, slightly louder. Slightly closer. It takes me a moment to realize that the sounds are strange. There’s something in the pacing, the space between the snaps, that doesn’t sound like an animal moving through the woods.

“Julian?” I call, sweat beading on my lip. “Are you hunting out there?”

My words sound lonely as they are swallowed up by the trees. Another snap, closer still.

“Julian?” My voice is an octave higher than it should be. My breath faster.

No one answers and the footsteps quiet. I listen hard and think I can make out the faint sounds of whispering but it’s hard to know if it’s real or simply the sound of the wind that’s begun moving through the trees. I drop the shovel and walk rapidly back to the house, desperate to beat the darkness that’s quickly falling.

I go out to the conservatory one last time, to see the progress I’ve made. It looks so much better than before. You can finally see through the glass windowpanes. Standing here now though, I realize just how exposed the conservatory is at night with the lights on. It’s difficult to see much of what’s outside, just the dark shape of evergreens in the distance. But if someone were outside, well, they’d see everything inside clear as day. They’d see a woman, standing in the conservatory, with a look of unease etched across her face.

Chapter 25

The heartbeats come fast and furious. Like a stampede of horses. That’s what the pregnancy books all said, and it’s true.

I’m at my first prenatal appointment with my new OB at Topher’s hospital. Her name is Dr. Kahn. She holds something called a Doppler ultrasound device against my belly. The jelly feels cold and sticky.

Since having the third nightmare I’ve been so preoccupied that it seems almost impossible that a baby is growing so furiously and determined inside of me. I almost feel ashamed, like I’ve neglected this new life. Left it to fend for itself inside my womb.

“What brings you to the area?” Dr. Kahn asks, settling back on a stool. She has a kind bedside manner, which is a relief. I’ve had bad experiences with doctors in the past.

“We inherited my uncle’s house, and my husband and I felt ready for a move.”

“What do you do for work?” She’s now typing something into the computer, frowning a little in concentration.

I try to look confident as I say, “I’m actually not currently working. I’m a recovering nine-to-fiver so I’m taking some time off to get settled here. I’ll probably go back to work sometime after the baby is born.”

She nods and smiles. “You won’t regret the decision. The time goes by fast. What does your husband do?”

“He’s actually an ER doctor here—”

“Of course. Dr. Leighton. I don’t know him well, but I’ve heard great things about him.”

She asks more questions. What I’m eating. If I’m exercising. How I’m sleeping. I lie. She goes through my medical history. I’ve been dreading this part.