He reeled around, his molten eyes devoured her face with rage. He grabbed his hair with his white knuckled fists and tugged on it repeatedly. “How dare you. Don’t you ever speak about my mother that way, do you hear me?” He took a badminton racquet, flung it across the room into a row of clay pots and knocked one to the floor. It smashed into useless shards.
Heather’s face glazed with horror and she stepped back. All a big lie, her life was a lie.
Laurel finding the picture of her and Silvatri suddenly emerged. The vision of the Frisbee ride flashed before her. The peak of the highest climb in New Paltz resurfaced, then the view from the top and the freedom she felt at that moment. There could be no fear now, no more silent screams, no more fake smiles and pretending, no more sarcasm. She needed to stop running, she needed to be a role model for her daughters. Her daughters gave her strength. This would be the day she turned from the altar.
She stood her ground refusing to acknowledge Lance’s request. Enraged, he lunged at her, she spun and he missed her shirt by inches. Heather stopped at the head of the driveway and glared back at him again. He snatched Gia’s bicycle and flung it into the wall to the left. He twisted back, his chest heaved, fists clenched into tight balls.
He let out an animalistic growl, spewing spit, teeth clenched and seething. He grabbed a screwdriver and that was all she needed to see. She vaulted out of the garage and into her Jeep. She turned the ignition and he banged on the hood while she careened out of the driveway.
Lance threw the screwdriver at her windshield, leaving a depression that resembled a crushed spider. A jumbo piece of pink chalk followed and she floored it down the street and steered towards the elementary school.
Heather sped into the parking lot and ended her ride positioned sideways over three separate spots. She leaped out of the car and jogged past the swing set, veering toward the rear of the school.
Her body tackled the side of the building, and with her back against the beige bricks, she squatted down. Heather sucked down desperate gulps of air, collapsed and crumbled into a ball. The sandy dirt brought up billows of dust. She coughed from the dirt and the tears that invaded her throat. Her nails dug into her skin.
Unable to catch her breath, she thought of her oxygen-dependent patients. Faces blistered from the masks melted on to their faces. Gasping, holding the mask tighter as if to help the oxygen move into their lungs more effectively…lungs that no longer worked.
Heather opened her eyes and inhaled deeply. She needed to get home to her daughters. How could she have left them home alone with that psychopath? She struggled upward, legs numb from the lack of blood flow. She whisked the dirt off her pants and turned toward the brick. The graffiti on the school wall provided its sharp retort:
Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?
Chapter 47
Catherine
Catherine hurried to finish her work at the hospital so she could return home, dress and reapply her make-up for Victoria and Ed’s 30th wedding anniversary celebration at 6 o’clock this evening.
Peter refused to go. She didn’t mind after their fight three nights ago. She was done with him and no longer cared. Her only thoughts involved pleasing Mangle tomorrow at his home. She would pretend she was sick, leave work a little before noon, and have the entire afternoon to spend with him.
Silvatri had used Heather, never wanting anything more than what it always was, ending their five-month affair. Victoria gave up on her romance and deserted Aiden after he acknowledged his love and offered his heart to her. That would not happen with her. She would prove to Mangle she was worthy of him. No other woman would do. He would fall in love with her and take her away from her madness.
She entered the ICU less an hour before her shift ended and sat on one side of the egg-shaped nurses’ station. Patty, an older nurse, sat across from her filling out a clipboard. Catherine rushed through another chart but thoughts of her afternoon with Mangle tomorrow filled her mind. She wondered what he planned, ready to fulfill his fantasies.
Dr. Feldman entered the unit from the rear stairwell. Catherine cringed. Hadn’t he retired? He sat across from her, next to Patty, and grinned. His stained crooked teeth nauseated her. His dyed black hair, slicked over his bald head, reminded her of her father’s boss at Crayola Crayon Company. She looked away and concentrated on her chart.
She felt his relentless gaze. A hazy memory returned, one that took years to forget. The time Catherine’s father brought her to his office as a present for her 10th birthday. Only her older brothers had accompanied him to his office. This would be her first time. Instead of excited, she feared she would disappoint him. Again.
She tried hard to act grown-up and responsible. Maybe he would love her as much as them. Today would be her big chance.
He gave Catherine a tour and then they strolled into his office. A picture of him fishing with her two brothers sat in the corner of his desk. None of her.
His boss appeared at the door. Oily black hair combed over his scalp to hide the bald roof, his eyes were tiny, of a much younger child, but his hands large and hairy. His white business shirt carried mustard colored stains beneath the armpits, the buttons parted to reveal a similar wooly chest.
He bent down to see her. His yellow teeth jeered from inside his mouth, his breath foul. He asked if she wanted the enormous crayon kit her father had promised. The most her father ever brought home was a 64-count box of crayons. Now he promised an activity set complete with watercolors, pastels, and sheets of drawing paper.
The boss hid it behind his back, asked for a kiss, but she refused. Her father frowned, but she continued to shake her head. Catherine took a step back, then another. The man’s face contorted and he refused to give it to her. Her father called her rude and his brow sprouted with sweat. How dare she deny him when he was giving her what she wanted. She whimpered until tears fell.
Her father left to get a tissue, a ploy to avoid the humiliating situation and hopefully give her time to make the right decision.
His boss stepped closer and clutched her shoulder with his hairy hand. “One little kiss and it’s all yours, princess.”
She held her hand up as a shield. This time he tossed the activity kit on the desk, seized both shoulders and crushed them in his palms until the pain froze her. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, the taste of tuna fish transferred to her. She withdrew, licked the filth on her mouth and then wiped it off with her hand. She felt dirty, filthy, impure.
He withdrew his hairy palms, but a few fingers reached forward and tugged the collar of her shirt down. “No boobies yet?” He peeked in.
Catherine’s hand slapped on to her chest, her other hand pushed his face away. Her jaw shuddered, heart pounded so furiously, she knew the Devil was coming for her now. Her heart would implode, she would die and punishment would ensue for allowing a man look at her privates.
Her father returned to find his boss grinning. “Did you do it?” He handed his daughter a tissue. The elderly boss relinquished the kit along with a glare. “That’s my girl.” He lifted Catherine into his arms and hugged her for the first time in years, her father’s touch suddenly repulsive. She was sure to go to Hell. Kissing before she married, men touching her, ogling.
Soiled. Defiled. She needed to scrub the disgrace from her.
Catherine chucked the patient’s chart back in the rack and shuddered. She reached for her last chart and Dr. Feldman leered at her. He had not opened a chart or visited a patient yet. What was he doing? Taking a break, resting his tired bones? Had the walk up the back stairs proved too arduous for him?
“Nurse, nurse.” A voice called out from Room 3. Patty jumped to her feet and darted to the room, closing the curtain behind her.
Catherine resumed her charting. Dr. Feldman’s presence suffocated her. She leaned in and discreetly pulled her lab coat over her white sweater. He gulped down breaths, as if he had run a race. Was he having a heart attack? His panting increased, became rapid, until he finally stood and walked toward the front door.
Catherine sighed, thankful for his departure. Let him have a heart attack outside in the other unit, away from her. The vision of her father’s boss crept back into her head. She squeezed the pen in her hand and tried to bury the image back where it came from, but then sensed someone to her right.
“Catherine you look lovely today,” Dr. Feldman said. The smell of his putrid breath pierced her.
Her eyes bulged. He had never spoken to her before, glad for his disregard.
“Mangle tells me we’re in for quite the party tomorrow.” He took his hand and eased back her lab coat revealing her thin transparent V-neck sweater. “I look forward to having these enormous breasts in my mouth.” He smiled exposing the dark stains between his teeth. “I jerked off for hours last night with the image of having them in my face while he fucked you in the ass. Maybe I can be inside you too while he’s in there. Do you like having two dicks inside you at the same time Catherine?”
He extended his finger down her lapel and over her breast touching her prominent nipple with his untrimmed, yellowing fingernail. “I see I’m arousing you already. You must like getting fucked in the ass. Do you like pain?” He flicked her nipple and licked his lips. “I look forward to biting it off. I can’t promise you I’ll be as gentle as Mangle, I enjoy giving pain to my woman. You’ll appreciate my toys from what he told me about you.”
The curtain rings slid across the steel rod, opening the patient’s room to their view. Patty guided the tray table closer to the bed and then turned to leave. Dr. Feldman backed away, winked at Catherine and fled through the main door. Her pen rolled onto the floor.
Peter was right, Jean was right, everyone was right. She was a complete moron, a loser. Heather and Victoria had told the truth about Mangle from day one. How could she be so blind? How low
did
she need to go to prove her worth?
Chapter 48
Victoria
Victoria paced the marble entranceway, hoping either Heather or Catherine would arrive first. Her stomach grumbled from lack of food, too nervous to eat. The butterflies in her stomach starved as well.
She fidgeted, checked that her earrings still hung from beneath her hair and that her dress draped squarely. Ed entertained the female bartender with Andrew, and Sara lingered in the bathroom with her friend.
The first guests to arrive were Ed’s friends. His drinking buddies piled in and headed straight to the bar. An Uncle, a cousin and a neighbor soon followed. Her brother, his wife and their children next. Her co-workers absent.
With her post at the door no longer acceptable, Victoria joined her guests and managed to toss an Asian chicken meatball into her mouth. Andrew handed her a glass of white wine and music from the era in which Ed and her met, strummed through the speakers.
Loud conversations developed, drowning out the music. Chatter and laughter surrounded her, but not her friends. Victoria searched for Ed whom she had not seen in over an hour. The door to the restaurant opened and Ed trickled in with three of his friends after an apparent cigarette break. Behind him, Heather and her girls hurried to the door.
“Victoria, your dress is gorgeous,” her aunt said. “It’s simply gorgeous, what material is this?”
“It’s taffeta, Sara picked it out.” Victoria waved at Heather hoping she would rescue her.
“And the color is divine, the burgundy works well with your coloring.”
Catherine jogged in with her children a minute later and the eight of them handed their coats to the attendant. Where were Lance and Peter?
Before Victoria made it to the coat check, a swarm of people enveloped her.
“Mom, you remember that time Katie and I fell off the swing in the backyard and it was all muddy and…”
“Victoria, where is the restroom?”
“Mrs. Ehling, we will be serving the salad course soon if you’d like me to start seating your guests.”
Victoria’s head spun. She was in no mood for a party or questions or the loud banter. Her stiff dress tugged at her shoulders. The duck sauce from the meatball churned together with her wine in an explosion of syrupy fizz. She searched the room for Ed’s help, but his shot glass held high, announced their oncoming toast.
The guests took their seats and Stephan the banquet manager, snapped his fingers at the waiters to proceed with the salads. Victoria watched her co-workers help their children find a seat. She strolled over to them, a smile sparkled on her face for the first time all night.
“Mrs. Ehling,” Stephan blocked her from reaching their table, “we usually have the couple do their toast to each other before the main course otherwise it becomes too late and some guests start to leave. My staff will be pouring the champagne into the glasses now.”
“Yes, that would be fine.” Victoria groaned. Last night before bed, she prepared a quick speech. She had mentioned the customary toast to Ed and wondered what he had prepared. Maybe this evening would be a blessing after all. They could express their feelings for each other while surrounded by their loved ones. Sentiments he expressed to her when they first met would resurface. Perhaps his spoken feelings for her tonight would erase the past year of doubts and loneliness, and rekindle their love. Her time with Aiden would fade into a memory, a clear mistake.
Victoria sat at their private table for two. Alone. Isolated once again. The waiters placed the champagne on the tables and she motioned to Stephan to find Ed.
“Victoria!” Heather and Catherine charged toward her. The three embraced and they complimented her on her expensive dress. “You’ve been so busy, we couldn’t find a minute to say hello.”
“I know and you’ve been pretty busy yourselves, I remember when Andrew and Sara were that little.”
Stephan strolled over with Ed beside him.
“This is the first I’ve seen Ed all night,” Heather said.
“Me too. He’s been reminiscing with his friends I suppose.”