Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
SUNDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 10
T he sunlight streaming between the slats in Mary’s blinds woke me. I blinked, noticing the stripes of light stretched across her dresser. Such contrast to the dark shadow I’d seen in the corner of the room every time I’d awoken from my fitful sleep, dreaming of a woman bleeding all over me. I shivered, looking down at the thin blanket hiding my body. I tried to sit up, my head suddenly pounding and my arms unable to move. What had Mary put in the drinks last night?
I rested my head back against the hard, flat pillow and stared at the ceiling, blinking the blurriness out of my eyes. Keeping my body relaxed, I tried to raise my hands but couldn’t. My heart jumped upward, and pain sliced through my head. What the...
“Mary!”
I listened for noise in the house beyond the closed bedroom door. Did I hear shuffling?
“Mary!” Panic elevated my voice. “Mary! Are you here?”
The door cracked open and Mary’s round, wrinkled face appeared, a sliver of sunlight making her glasses glint. “Good morning, Caroline.”
Her cheerfulness grated. “I can barely move. Is this your doing?”
“I’m afraid it’s yours, dear.”
The door creaked open slowly. Mary bounced a hip against it and the door swung wide, revealing her lemon shape, dressed in her usual navy polyester slacks and oatmeal sweater, holding a food tray in front of her.
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“What thing, dear?”
“You tell me! Why can’t I move?”
She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “You had a tough night, Caroline. I’m trying to help you like you asked me to, but I’m worried about you.”
I thought of the shadow I’d seen every time I stirred in my sleep. A creepy sentinel in the corner of the room, in the ladderback chair next to the closet. “Did you... did you watch me sleep?” I sputtered.
“I certainly did. How else could I ensure you’d be safe?” She smiled brightly. “I’ve brought you eggs for breakfast. Don’t they smell delicious?”
“I’m leaving, Mary. Help me up.”
Mary placed the tray on the dresser. “I couldn’t allow that, not yet.”
“And why not?” I demanded.
“Because you haven’t had breakfast.”
She shuffled to the corner of the room and pulled the chair toward the bed.
“I’m not hungry.” My voice sounded petulant, obstinate as a rebellious child.
“You know the first meal of the day is the most important,” she said, her voice bright as she looked down at me. “And you desperately need some food in you.”
“I am perfectly fine.”
“I know you think you are, but trust me, I know better.”
I laughed despite my rage. An ancient lush who’d caused her husband’s death was going to care for me . I’d have a better chance of surviving with Dr. Kevorkian as my nursemaid. “Why would you say I’m not well? I’m perfectly healthy.”
“If you’re of sound mind, you’ll tell me where you were all last night.” She grabbed the tray and settled in the chair she’d pulled alongside the bed.
I stared at her. She had me there. Where had I been after my argument with Jeffrey at the convenience store and before Mary confronted me in my car? I blinked. I couldn’t think of that right now. I had to get this maniac to admit she’d drugged me. “How am I supposed to feed myself when I’m like this?” I looked down at my still body.
“I’ll feed you, dear,” she said, digging a fork into the pile of scrambled eggs with gusto.
“Mary, you need to help me up and out of here. You know you do. It’s against the law to force someone to stay in your house.”
“Not if that person is a danger to herself.”
“Mary, I’m warning you...”
She smirked and held the forkful of eggs up to my mouth. “Please try to understand that I’m feeding you only because it’s what’s best for you. Now let’s try one little mouthful.” She pressed the tines against my lips.
I jutted my chin, sending the eggs flying off the fork.
“Honestly, Caroline, look what you’ve done.” She dropped the empty fork back onto the plate and lifted the tray as she stood. “Now you’ll have to sit there, breakfast on top of you rather than in you.” She sighed and left the room.
Was this really happening? Had my ditzy octogenarian neighbor managed to imprison me in her spare bedroom?
Think, Caroline.
I wondered what could have prompted Mary to take such drastic action against me. What could she gain by alienating me? I was her only acquaintance. No one else was ever over here. Why would she...
And then I understood. Mary was alone but didn’t want to be. She wanted to glom on to me, ensure I was alone too. Focusing all attention on her.
She was conspiring with Tim. Helping him prove the case against me, so I’d have no choice but to hand over custody of Emmy. Then Mary would have me all to herself.
I bit my lip. No, that couldn’t be right. Tim wouldn’t condone such behavior. As much as I blamed him for ruining our family, I knew he wouldn’t stoop to this level to gain custody. He wouldn’t have to. He made all the money. If he wanted to snatch Emmy away, he could, on the grounds that he could support her better than I.
But Mary, poor, twisted Mary, didn’t realize this. She clearly figured if she could keep me here until Tim came back with Emmy, she’d convince him I was a danger to myself and unfit to care for an infant.
“Mary,” I called through the closed door. “Please help me. I need coffee.” It might sober me up and flush the toxins out of my system.
I waited for her to respond. She didn’t. Feeling my face flush, I shouted, “You can’t keep me trapped in here forever.”
The bedroom door opened, and her face popped into view. “Rest assured, dear. I have no intention of doing that. As soon as you’re better, you’re free to go.” The door slammed shut.
I let my head drop back to the mattress, searching my mind for any clue, the tiniest hint of where I had gone after I’d sat in my car at the convenience store last night. I closed my eyes, trying to visualize the scene, but only blackness gathered into the space. Why couldn’t I remember?
My chest tightened, a dozen invisible hands clenching and squeezing the life out of me. I breathed through the irregular heartbeats, recalling the days just after Emmy was born, in the grips of a silent assassin who had sights set on me. I’d been able to overcome the evil last time. Ironically, it had been the darkness that had helped. The long walks in soothing blankness that had nudged me back to the light of my life. Would I be so lucky this time? I had to get myself back into the world and figure things out. It was only in the freedom of wide-open spaces I’d feel confident enough to look inside myself. And make sense of what I was to see.