AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I keep asking for Greg. They tell me they are checking him out, but I can see on their faces this isn’t the truth. My husband is dead.
They ask who they can call for support, family or a friend, but no one comes to mind. My mother lives across the country. She has a new life, and considering the great lengths she’s gone to forget the old one, it’s probably better not to disturb her. My father is somewhere on the streets, somewhere avoiding phones, somewhere avoiding help. Somewhere believing that everyone is out to get him. What help could he possibly be? Finally, I tell them they should call Greg’s parents. The rest I forget.
As I sit on the footrest of the rocking chair I nursed both my children in, I think about how this day, the tenth of December, would turn out to be the best and the worst day of my life. The best because it was the last time my family was together, and the worst for the same reason.
Just a few hours ago, I’d made lasagna, Greg’s favorite. The dirty dishes are still in the sink. We hadn’t told the girls about Lucy yet, and we hadn’t discussed how we were going to do it, either. It was too much, so instead, in what felt like a brief reprieve, we pretended things were normal. We settled in on the couch with the kids for a family movie night. Though, I can’t recall anything that happened on the screen now, I do know it was a superhero movie, the kind where the good guy always wins.
Naomi had curled into Greg’s side, proud to have secured my usual spot, but I didn’t mind. I was just thankful to have her home. I knew it could be worse. Just down the street, Lucy’s parents were making funeral arrangements.
It had taken someone dying, but the cops were finally taking a hard look at Jack Mooney, and it was starting to feel like they were perhaps taking things seriously.
Later, after Greg and I put the girls to bed, we’d made love. It was sweet sex, loving, as vanilla as you can get. The kind of sex you might have if you’re worried about being caught on camera.
Afterward, he’d wrapped me in his arms, the sound of his heartbeat serving as the backdrop as we discussed sending the girls to his parents after Christmas. Then, when and if Jack Mooney bothered us, we’d shoot him. Greg spoke of it as a home invasion gone bad. I can’t say how serious either of us really were, only that it felt therapeutic to make plans. He joked about all the ways he’d planned to torture Mooney as payback for what he’d done to us, and I laughed until I got a cramp in my side. It felt good not to feel like victims. It felt like we had a hand in deciding the outcome of our future.
The thought that I should have done something differently will keep me awake every night, from this moment on, until forever. What if I hadn’t fallen asleep with my head on his chest? What if, when he’d woken me, I’d hopped out of bed, grabbed the gun, and followed them downstairs? Would my husband still be alive?
What if I’d asked Benny Dugan to kill Mooney? What if I had made sure that Jack Mooney could never harm my family again? Could it have been that simple? What if I had put up a better fight?
From my bedroom window, I hear officers outside talking. There’s enough going on inside that I only catch bits and pieces of their conversation, but in between the shuffling and the questions, a few things become clear.
“The bastard was living in the attic.”
“Right under their noses this entire time.”
“You mean above,” a female voice says.
“Looks like he’s been coming and going from the outer garage door. He has quite a set-up. Even found a set of house keys.”
I think of Greg’s keys. How he’d been using the spare set. How long had his been missing?
“Seems crazy to me that they wouldn’t have known. But I’ve heard of cases like this before.”
“I thought it was squirrels,” I say to one of the detectives, who is sitting with me. “I thought a lot of stupid things, actually. I thought the police could keep me safe. I thought the law would protect me…”
He swallows hard and then goes over to the window and shuts it. I give him a look that says that this is a crime scene, and I don’t think he’s supposed to touch anything, but he only shrugs. “Are you sure there’s not someone we can call?”
“I’m sure.”
Epilogue
Six months later
I still see him in my dreams. Some nights it’s Jack Mooney, but more often than not, it’s Greg. I think of the years we spent together, all the highs and the lows. I speak of him often, hoping he will stick in the girls’ minds, but the further away we get
from him being gone, the more of life with him fades.
We never went back in that house. I remember when I’d heard from Dana about what happened with Alex, when he lost his girlfriend and child, how he’d just walked out and left her to deal with everything. I hadn’t understood how a person could walk away from all the good just because of the bad. But now I get it. After something like this happens, everything is tainted.
The span of three weeks changed my entire life. It’s hard to not fixate on those twenty-one days, and especially not on that final one. I go over and over it in my mind: the things I should have done, the things I should have said, and probably more than anything, the things I shouldn’t have.
Greg’s parents and a team of movers packed up the items they thought I would want to keep, and those things sit in a storage unit. Someday I’ll muster the courage and strength to go through it all, but I don’t foresee that day coming anytime soon.
For now, we’re in a temporary place with new things, things that have no meaning and no memories attached, and for now that feels okay.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I see a family therapist with Naomi and Blair. She’s a nice enough woman, and the girls seem to like her, and I don’t mind the sessions so much because it’s the only time I can really check out.
Sometimes I think about my own mother, and how I can understand why sometimes it’s easier to run than to stay and face the damage. Other times I think about my father and how I still look for him on every street corner, how I’m not sure I’ll ever stop, and how thin the line between crazy and normal can be.
