“Oh God!” she cried out loud. She ran up the stairs, two at a time, tripping and stumbling over her feet. She flung open the studio door and focused her sights on Aaron’s newest painting, Evening Ghosts. With an inhuman cry, she grabbed a cloudy glass of water that sat by the painting, holding used brushes. She flung the water onto the painting. Iris and tulips melted before her eyes into a cloudy, carnival smear. And with that, Elly sank to the ground, feeling a bittersweet relief at letting the sobs propel her into hysteria.
She cried until the daylight faded into evening and then sat numbly, waiting. Waiting for Aaron to return. Waiting to wake up from this terrible dream – telling herself that it couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be. The dark sky churned thick humid air onto the streets and her house sat wrapped in fog. Covered in her mother’s favorite shawl, Elly silently watched out the window, watching her neighbors return from work, unaware that the life next door had been broken apart. She longed to scream questions at them. Had they never noticed a stray car? How long had this been going on? Was it love? Was it sex? How did it begin?
Elly had always known that Aaron was admired by the female sex. He was handsome and artistic, a deadly combination for women of all types. He had overtaken Elly with a smile, that’s all it took. One admiring glance and she had given it all over to him: her life, her virginity, her bank account. It was like taking candy from a baby. Elly pondered how within each woman lay a tightly wrapped box of secrets, the worst of these being that they would throw it all away for someone to love them. Aaron had flung open the box and her love, like bees, swarmed around him, living on his kisses like honey. Elly stifled a sob. She had learned from her mother’s death that even when the tears dried up, the sounds still came. The guttural gasps that were completely unattractive and very un-ladylike brought the most satisfaction. It wasn’t the tears; those, it seemed, just made her face wet. She raised her blanket into her mouth and bent over.
Elly was sitting in front of her picture window when the car pulled up around midnight. She saw Aaron step out of the passenger side. He brought her back, she thought; he brought his lover back to our house. He walked over their lawn and through Elly’s carefully planted flowerbeds. She heard his key in the lock and thought too late to try and hold the door shut. It swung open. Aaron stood warily before her, his tan and black leather jacket sitting tightly on his flat shoulders. He had large dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was combed back messily.
“Elly,” he said softly. Elly felt her chest rise with anger, but once her eyes met his, it deflated. She was tired. And she loved him. He had broken her, and she would never be right again. There were no words to say, words that would fall on him would not shame, only vindicate. Elly was done. Wrapping her shawl tight around her, she gave Aaron a withering look as she stood, swaying on her feet.
“I just came to grab my things,” he said nervously as he ran his hand through his hair. “Elly, please understand.”
Elly walked past him, brushing his arm slightly with hers. She slowly climbed the stairs, feeling in each step that her heart was growing heavy and jaded. Once she got into the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway. She closed her eyes and saw it again, the red hair twisted in his hand, the long back, Aaron’s contorted and ecstatic face. Elly cried out loud and ran forward, ripping the sheets off the bed, down to the mattress. The bed now bare, she lay down, her mother’s shawl wrapped around her. She pressed her face down on the naked mattress, the mattress that had once held a wife and now had held a lover. She cried out for strength, but felt empty inside, as her prayers disappeared into the night air. Sleep came and went, encompassing her violently and then leaving just as suddenly. But Aaron never came. She waited all night, and he never came back. In the morning, Elly packed a sandwich cooler, a bottle of water and her wedding dress, and without knowing it, turned her car toward St. Louis.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Present Day
“Oh my goodness, is she okay?”
“Is she bleeding?”
“We should call 911.”
“Make sure you pull her shirt down before she wakes up.”
“Should we sit her up?”
“She’s so heavy!”
Elly slowly opened her eyes to the fuzzy faces of Anthony, Snarky Teenager and Sunny Kepke. Cadbury was barking hysterically.
“Eleanor dear, are you alright?” Sunny asked anxiously, wringing her hands. “You fainted!”
Anthony’s face was paralyzed with concern. “Elly, I was about to call an ambulance.” He spoke very slowly. “Would you like me to do that?”
Elly shook her head. Snarky Teenager smiled sympathetically at her and then Elly felt fingers travel over her stomach.
“I’m just going to pull this down.”
Kill me now, thought Elly. She hesitantly put her arms underneath her and pushed her body up into a sitting position. What happened, she wondered. Why am I on the ground? Anthony hastily brought her a glass of water. Elly reached up with one hand to rub her eyes.