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HELEN
Brenton held my hand the entire way home, squeezing every so often in reassurance. He kept looking at me with worry in his eyes, but I assured him I was okay. It was partially true. Carter’s intrusion had shaken me up and until tonight, I hadn’t had to think about our attempts at children for some time now. The pain came flooding back in droves, but I also felt invigorated. Brenton’s presence gave me the comfort and confidence I needed to finally stand up to him.
I thought about telling Brenton more about Carter and me, about the ache I still felt after everything that relationship had put me through. I wanted to tell him that my pain and torment came from more than just Carter. It came from my own failure too, but I wasn’t ready to talk about that just yet. It would most likely just scare him away, so I tried to lighten the mood instead.
“I can’t believe you punched him,” I said in the car, giggling as I remembered Carter’s shocked and red face.
“Of course I did! His skinny ass was way out of line!”
I continued to laugh as Brenton pulled into my driveway. He walked me to my door, still never letting go of my hand.
“Thank you for an entertaining evening,” I told him as I unlocked the brass door.
“Thank you for agreeing to come. I had a really good time, despite the burnt steak and the crazy ex.”
“Me too.”
“Hey,” he reached out to grab my wrist gently, stopping me from moving inside just yet. “Every Monday I try to go down to the edge of my property and make sure the trees are trimmed and producing down there. My workers don’t always remember to check that far down. Would you want to join me tomorrow around 3?”
“That sounds nice, but I have some work to get done. I’ve been a little distracted and missing deadlines this week. Besides, I’m still not completely acclimated to the trees and the bugs yet.”
He looked a bit disappointed at first but he shook it off and kissed my hand before letting go.
“Make sure to lock your door,” he told me as I entered the house.
In a moment of bravery, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. I paused before pulling back, savoring the heat between our close breaths. He looked down at me while I stared up at him, appreciation in my eyes.
“Goodnight, Helen,” he cut off the spark before it could burn any further.”
“Goodnight, Brenton.” I shut the door behind me.
“I didn’t hear it lock!” he yelled from the other side. I laughed and turned the bolt.
I went to bed feeling happier than I ever remembered feeling. If Brenton would have kissed me back, I would have most definitely let him in to take things further. As I laid in bed, I pretended for a moment that he was here. I touched myself, picturing him while I writhed in pleasure. I pursed my lips and let out a sigh with my eyes closed, envisioning his flexed muscles above me. I imagined him going down on me, licking my breasts, then my naval, then my thighs. I pictured him working his way down until he was positioned between my legs, putting his tongue on my swollen clit. I moved my body in rhythm with my imagined bliss. I began to shake and let out the breath I had been holding, bringing myself to a climax. I slept peacefully that night.
I woke up the next morning with a wide grin on my face. I hopped out of bed with a pep in my step, refreshed and inspired. My productivity was unbridled as I honed all my energy into searching for Dudley’s journal. I sent a few work emails first, but my findings yesterday reinvigorated my desire to solve Dudley’s mystery and write my own. I couldn’t focus on work right now. I started in the basement this time. I hadn’t spent much time down there yet because it was predominantly sparse and very musty. Also, last time I was down there, I saw at least three spiders that would have scared a dog even as large as Samson.
I wrestled with a few boxes I found down there. They were covered in cobwebs so I had to run back upstairs for a broom long enough to clear them off while keeping my distance in case any bugs crawled out. They housed more books about foreign countries and instructional pieces about harvesting apple seeds. This man had a real one track mind. Despite his firing, I couldn’t believe he and Brenton hadn’t found some common ground to at least talk cordially about.
The journal wasn’t in any of the boxes, so I closed them up and hastened out of the dingy, unfinished basement. Once back upstairs, I got an idea. I grabbed the blueprints I had found previously, scanning them for any meaningful differences. Like I had noticed before, the new blueprint displayed the updated kitchen and front entrance. The layout of the kitchen had been changed to make better use of the space, with a larger island built in its center. Not much had changed in the front of the home. It looked like he had added some support beams and replaced the flooring, which was notable because the rest of the floor was original oak. I paced the foyer, staring at the blueprint, waiting for something to magically jump out at me.
Suddenly, my foot snagged on a raised portion of the floor and I went tumbling.
“Ugh.”
It was covered by a rug that looked like it was from his travels in India. When I first tripped over it over a week ago, I thought it had just been due to the rug. I had never noticed the raised flooring before. I looked back at the blueprint and noticed a small smudge in the same location that I was currently sitting after my fall.
“Interesting.”
I pushed aside the rug to reveal the uneven floorboard. Its midsection was raised, probably warped due to heat. The smudge could definitely just have been a coincidence, but what if…
I ran to the shed below Dudley’s back deck and found an old hammer laying on a workbench. I grabbed it and rushed back to the foyer. I used the hammer’s back end to rip up the wooden flooring.
“Sorry Dudley,” I muttered to myself. “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Me to take full advantage of your home?”
The wooden beam was really stuck in there. I heaved and pulled to no avail. I tied my hair back and tried one last time, blowing a lock from my face and pushing all of my weight down on one end of the hammer. Finally, with a groan, the floorboard cracked and broke, sawdust from the broken wood making a small plume in front of me. I was able to pull it up two in pieces. I looked into the small hole I had made in the floor. It was pitch dark down there, so I pulled my phone out from my back pocket and turned on its flashlight.
“Gross,” I said, using the hammer to push back more cobwebs. There were some dried leaves and sticks that I swept out of the way. I gasped at what was beneath.
