Recipe for Enemies Page 13

  A woman inside the other car was being attended to by another emergency worker. She was crying, at least, so she was still alive.

  “It is Coach Dumcas,” Andrew said, voice thin. “What the fuck.”

  Erin said nothing, found she couldn’t speak, and crawled behind the rest of the traffic to turn left onto her road.

  Alyssa had begun crying, and Andrew sat slumped, head down, until they got home. Erin shut off the car. They sat in silence for a moment, and then Erin asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  They both shook their heads, got out and went to their bedrooms. Erin felt helpless. She couldn’t tell them it would be all right, because it wouldn’t. She’d never had to discuss an accidental death with her kids, but she knew it was best to leave them alone for now. There would be time to talk at dinner.

  But no one spoke during the meal, not even Ryan, and Erin didn’t know what to say. There were no teachable moments at a time like this. She wanted to hug her kids and offer them comfort, but it was difficult right now. Tonight she felt lost in some dark, hollow place in her mind, unable to form words into a sentence, for fear of screaming to the world about what she’d done.

  Silently, Alyssa and Andrew cleared the table and began to fill the dishwasher.

  Surprisingly, David, who’d seemed lost in his own thoughts at dinner, helped carry dishes into the kitchen and offered to clean up. He hadn’t done that for weeks. The twins left the kitchen.

  Alone with David, Erin began to cry.

  David took her arm and pulled her to him. “It’ll be all right,” he said.

  “No, it won’t be. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted things to change, to get better.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he said. “It’s mine. I made some lousy choices, Erin. I’m sorry.”

  Of course, he didn’t know she was referring to the recipe and her intentions. She almost told him what she’d done. The words were on her lips. But she couldn’t. Confessing would topple everything she’d accomplished. Instead she asked, “What will you do? Are you going to leave us?”

  He hesitated, then said. “No. I want to stay here. I want to stay together.” His eyes filled with tears. “Will you forgive me?”

  “Yes. That’s all I want, for our family to be happy,” Erin whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to talk about it,” David said. “I’m here now.”

  Erin looked up at him, and something joyful broke free from the dark place in her soul. She smiled through her tears. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Weeks passed. The leaves fell from the trees. Alyssa shone when she performed her cheers during games. She appeared to be losing weight, but still seemed healthy. Andrew pinned almost every opponent he wrestled. Ryan’s confidence grew, and he seemed much happier.

  Jake came out of his coma and returned to school, and Ryan reported he was quieter now and didn’t bother anyone. Ryan made efforts to be his friend.

  Erin kept a close eye on the trial. She was glad that at least Mrs. Fagan wouldn’t get the death penalty, but instead would remain in the mental ward of the prison for life. Apparently she couldn’t remember what she’d done and still believed all her children were alive.

  The high school hired a new coach and installed a memorial bench dedicated to Coach Dumcas, who had died instantly from his injuries sustained in the car crash.

  Watching David from the kitchen window as he raked leaves one afternoon, Erin considered the change in him over the last few weeks. He seemed fully present emotionally and interested in the daily life of his family. He and Erin still hadn’t been intimate, but perhaps that would come with time.

  She returned her attention to writing out her grocery list for items she’d need for Thanksgiving dinner. Spread out on the old kitchen table were grocery circulars advertising prices on turkeys as well as all the sides. She added items needed to serve up the turkey and five side dishes as well as two desserts. Erin prided herself on cooking up fabulous holiday dinners.

  Finished with her list, she sat back and reflected on the past year. This would be their second Thanksgiving in this house since moving in last fall. With the problems they’d faced over the past few months, she hoped the coming year would be much better. And David… as far as Erin knew, the affair with Jeffrey had been his first. She’d not brought up Jeffrey’s name nor David’s infidelities. It was best to put that behind them and move on.

  After all, she’d taken care of all the problems affecting the people she loved. There was no need to dwell on the past.

  And no one would ever know. Great-Grandma Clower had passed the recipe for enemies down to Erin, but Erin had no intention of doing the same for her great-granddaughters even if she lived long enough to do so. She also didn’t intend to haunt anyone the way Rosalyn had, what with her ghostly powdery smell and skeletal frame in that pink dress. Rosalyn Clower had fulfilled her purpose and was gone from Erin’s life, and that was just fine.

  The recipe on the old, yellowed paper was long gone anyway. Erin would never see it again, although she did at times contemplate the recipe’s strange revealing of ingredients as the owner grew more and more emotional over the problems at hand.

  The recipe was odd, yes, but it didn’t matter now. What did matter was that Erin had a happy family. And that was more important than anything.

  ***

  A few days later, Erin drove to the grocery store to buy her items for the holiday dinner. There, she spotted Tiffany in one of the aisles. She hadn’t seen the woman since taking the meal to her house, and now approached her to say hello.

  Tiffany wore a pink patch over one eye that perfectly matched the color of her lipstick. Raised, angry red scars trailed along the side and below her other eye. The blue of her visible iris was now a cloudy white haze.

  A woman guided the grocery cart from the front while Tiffany pushed it. Tiffany didn’t appear to notice Erin. She held up a package of beef close to her eye to read the label.

  “Hi,” the woman leading the cart said to Erin. “You came by the house after the accident, right?”

  It was Bianca, Tiffany’s sister. She looked like she’d aged in the past few weeks.

  Erin stopped, unease making her heart race. What if Tiffany began accusing her? What if she started screaming, “She made me, she made me” to Erin?

  Erin made herself smile. “Yes. Hi, Bianca. Tiffany, how are you?”

  Tiffany moved her head up and to the side, trying to focus on Erin. “Who...”

  “Oh. It’s Erin. Sorry.” She shifted to her other foot. “How are you getting along? Do you need anything?”

  “I’m doing great,” Tiffany said, her tone cheerless. “Just great. Thanks for asking.” She turned toward the cart and tossed the meat, but it missed and fell to the floor. A woman standing a few feet away stared at Tiffany, her expression a mixture of fascination and horror.

  “I’ll get that,” Erin said. She picked up the package and put it into the cart. Empathy rose toward the other woman’s plight, but at least Tiffany hadn’t brandished a knife and killed her daughter like Mrs. Fagan had murdered three of her four children. Of course, it had all depended on their pride, or fear. “Well, it was nice seeing you,” she said.

  “Sure,” Tiffany said, and her pink lips twisted into a sneer. “Nice seeing you, too.” She shoved the cart forward, hitting Bianca’s hip. “People won’t be seeing me much longer.”

  Bianca faced her. “Now, stop talking like that.” She gave Erin a worried look and added, “She’s been depressed. We’re getting her help.” The two walked on down the aisle.

  Erin pushed her cart to the poultry section. She hoped Tiffany wouldn’t try to hurt herself again. If she did, though, it wouldn’t be because of Erin.

  In any case, Tiffany apparently didn’t think Erin had made her tear at her eyes.

  Alyssa arrived home from school with the news that Stacie was back on the cheerleading squad after one of the
girls broke her leg in a fall. Erin assured herself she had nothing to do with that. Her intentions had played out and her family was content.

  All was well.

  In the future, she decided, when her children were unhappy or things weren’t going their way, perhaps it would be best to allow them to grow from their experiences instead of interfering and trying to change things. After all, if Andrew hadn’t been kicked off the football team, he’d never have discovered his talent for wrestling. Alyssa may have eventually made it on the cheerleading squad after the girl broke her leg. Ryan and Jake may have ended up as friends, eventually.

  Erin would let things run their course.

  Thanksgiving dinner left everyone claiming to be full, but they still wanted dessert. Erin brought out her homemade pumpkin pie and pecan pie, and then went back to the kitchen and returned with the whipped cream.

  Alyssa took only a sliver of pumpkin pie. “I don’t want to get fat,” she said.

  “You’re fine,” Erin said, eyeing Alyssa’s dinner plate. Much of the food on it had been left uneaten. She took a good look at Alyssa’s face. Yes, her cheeks had thinned, and her eyes had a hollowed look. “You work out almost every day. You need to keep up your nutrition.”

  “Jeremy won’t take her to the December holiday dance if she gets fat,” Andrew said. He piled whipped cream onto his slice of pecan pie.

  “Shut up,” Alyssa said. “That’s not true.”

  “Who is Jeremy?” David asked.

  “Yes, who is he?” Erin chimed in. “This is the first I’ve heard about him. I thought you were seeing somebody named Derek.”

  Alyssa sighed. “Derek and I are friends. Jeremy is just a boy I really like.”

  Andrew grinned. “Jeremy likes skinny girls.”

  “Not all the time,” Alyssa said.

  “He told me he likes them thin as rails,” Andrew said. “His words.”

  “Jeremy doesn’t sound good for you, Alyssa,” David said. “You should dump him and find someone who appreciates you whatever your size.”

  “He’s right,” Erin said, proud that David had given his daughter good advice.

  Alyssa glared at her father and then at Andrew, and shoved her chair back. She stood and left the table without touching her pie.

  Perhaps it was time to discuss her daughter’s weight loss, Erin decided. Alyssa wasn’t skin and bones, but her health could suffer if she kept losing weight.

  After the dishes were done, she went upstairs to Alyssa’s bedroom. “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Alyssa said. She was sitting on her bed with a book open on her lap.

  “You didn’t eat much. I don’t want you turning into a skeleton.”

  “I’m not turning into a skeleton,” Alyssa said. “I’ve lost a little weight, is all.”

  Erin smiled. “But you want to be careful and not lose too much. You won’t have the energy to cheer if you don’t eat enough.”

  “I know, Mom,” Alyssa said.

  “Okay,” Erin said. “I’m just wondering about this Jeremy person. Are you losing weight because he likes thin girls?”

  Alyssa’s face had gone red. She moistened her lips and then said, “Maybe.”

  “This isn’t healthy, Alyssa,” Erin said. “You need to be at your normal weight. Don’t starve yourself because some boy wants you to look like a stick.”

  “I’m fine,” Alyssa said. “I just need to lose a little more to fit into the size two dress I want to buy for the dance.”

  Erin’s eyes widened. “But you wear a size ten.”

  “Not anymore,” Alyssa said, shaking her head. “I’ve gotten down to a four. I just have a few more pounds to go.”

  “No,” Erin said, slicing her hand across the air like a blade. “Don’t lose any more weight. I forbid it.”

  Alyssa shrugged and turned her attention back to her book. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Alyssa—”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Erin went out and shut the door. That son of a bitch. No boy was going to cause her daughter to lose weight to the point of being emaciated, just so he’d take her to a dance. Alyssa was better than that. He didn’t deserve her.

  Erin needed another glass of wine. Perhaps David would want one as well. She went into their bedroom to ask him, but he wasn’t there. He must still be in the den.

  But the den was empty, as was the parlor and dining room. Perhaps he’d gone back to the kitchen for another slice of pie.

  No, he wasn’t in the kitchen.

  She poured a glass of wine for each of them anyway, and took the glasses to the den. The only other place David could be was in the bathroom, and she didn’t feel a need to hunt for him there. He’d be back soon. Perhaps they could stay up late and watch a movie, since the next day was a holiday.

  She was halfway through her glass when she decided he’d been in the bathroom long enough. She hoped nothing was wrong.

  She trotted up the steps and stopped at the hallway bathroom, but it was empty, as was the master bath. Strange. Where could he be? Only one place left to look, and that was the small powder room off the parlor.

  No one there.

  “David?” she called. “Where are you?”

  Silence. Erin went into the kitchen to think. Worry began to course through her. It wasn’t like David to go off somewhere at night without telling her.

  Perhaps she should see if his car was gone. It was worth a look. If the car was gone, she’d send him a text and ask where he was.

  Setting down her glass, she opened the kitchen door and looked out to where their cars were parked. Both hers and David’s sat side by side.

  Where was he?

  She pulled her head back in to shut the door, but then heard David let loose a laugh. He sounded like he was somewhere outside, she was sure. But where?

  Stepping outside, she heard him speaking, and moved toward the sound of his voice – somewhere near the shed. She couldn’t see him in the dark on this cloudy night.

  She almost called to him, but then heard him laugh again, this time a low, throaty chuckle. A sound he only made when sexually aroused. She hadn’t heard him laugh like that for months, but she knew the sound when she heard it. She crept closer.

  “I don’t care how long it takes, it’ll happen. Trust me.”

  Who was he talking to, and what was going to happen? She moved to the side of the shed and stopped, listening.

  “Yes, but you have to understand the predicament I’m in.”

  His voice had come from the back of the shed, an unkempt area next to the fence. Erin approached the corner of the shed and peeked around it.

  David stood a few feet away leaning against the shed wall, cell phone near his ear. Dim light from the phone lit his profile. He listened, then said, “I’m telling you I can’t right now.” A pause. “I’ll meet you at your apartment next week. I’ll tell her I have to work late. She won’t know.”

  Erin’s mouth opened. Anguish and disappointment filled her.

  “Okay,” he said, and again gave that soft, throaty laugh. “You win. I’ll be there in a little while, but I can’t stay long.” His free hand rubbed his crotch. “You’d better be ready for me. I’m gonna rip your clothes off and get physical.”

  Hand over her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her whimpering cries trying to break free, Erin dashed for the door to the house, hearing David’s laughter as he made another comment.

  She stumbled into the kitchen and continued to the den, groping the walls as she staggered forward, eyes blinded by tears. She sat on the couch and grabbed the glass of wine she’d brought for David. Some of it sloshed down the sides and dripped onto her pants. She didn’t care and gulped down the remaining contents.

  He was having another affair. No, no. Not again. It couldn’t be. He’d seemed so content lately. How long had this been happening? And with whom?

  She stilled as a coldness crept over her. She shou
ld fight, should go back out there and confront him. Tell him to pack his shit and get the hell out. Instead, she sat silently shaking her head, clutching the empty wine glass. She felt hopeless. Empty. Numb.

  She heard the kitchen screen door slam shut. His approaching footsteps sounded hurried.

  He entered the den, looking annoyed. “I have to go into the office. There’s an emergency.”

  “It’s Thanksgiving,” Erin said dully. “There is no emergency.”

  “Someone broke in and the alarm went off. The police are there now. We’re all meeting there to see if anything was taken.”

  “Fine, David. Just go.”

  He frowned. “Don’t be upset. I’ll be back soon.”

  Her hand holding the glass trembled. She’d tried. Oh yes, she had tried. She looked at his face, took in the spark of anticipation in his eyes while he tried to appear irritated at having to leave. “Take your time.”

  David left a few seconds later.

  Erin stood slowly. She carried the wine glass into the kitchen and set it on the counter. Then, she opened the cabinet beside the stove and retrieved the double boiler to melt chocolate.

  She knew the recipe for enemies by heart.

  The End

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  About the Author

  P. T. Winger lives in Virginia with her husband, son, three cats and a dog.