“What are you looking at?” I asked him.
“You mean who am I looking at?” He uncrossed his arms and brought one of his hands to my face, tucking stray hairs behind my ear that was still tingling from his kiss.
I rolled my eyes and looked over at him with a Cheshire Cat grin. He was trying hard not to laugh, I could tell. My eyes rolled again and I looked back into the sink.
“Hey?” I asked more than stated as I continued washing.
“Hey, yourself.” He popped up onto the counter next to me.
“Did Stassi ever mention what she thought was so funny when y’all came into the house earlier?”
He scrunched his eyebrows, trying to remember what transpired only hours before. “Oh,” he spoke suddenly. “Nope. I have no idea what she was laughing at. I thought you knew?”
“No . . . she was just laughing . . . she said ‘he funny, Mommy.’”
I pulled my hands out of the water as I placed the last dish in the drainer to dry. I wiped my hands on the towel slung over my shoulder and replaced it on the hook by the stove before opening the fridge to find the bottle of white wine I put in there to chill after the trip to the grocery store.
“He funny?” he repeated the haunting two words.
“Yeah, she was pointing out toward the woods and laughing and said ‘he funny’ and then ‘Dad funny.’ I thought maybe she would have mentioned it to you when y’all walked inside.”
I poured myself a glass of the wine and looked up at my husband, waiting for him to tell me if he wanted a glass. He shook his head and I put the wine back in the fridge. The first sip was just as sweet and as crisp as I hoped it would be and for a second, I was nowhere but in my own head and sometimes, that was the best place to be. When I opened my eyes after my gulp, I was back in my kitchen, my husband simply watching me.
“Well, she didn’t. I’m not sure how much a three-year-old can explain what’s going on in her head anyway.” He hopped off the counter and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He went back to where he was standing and I joined him in the corner, leaning against the counter next to him. The warmth of his skin radiated onto me and I never felt more at home.
“Do you remember those things I told you I experienced as a kid?” I took another sip of wine before putting the glass down in front of me.
He hesitated before answering. “Which experiences, Bobbi?”
“The ones with the old woman . . . and the shadow?” My voice subconsciously grew softer.
He just looked at me, not saying a word.
In his silence, I continued speaking. “I think I saw him.” The sentence came out barely a whisper.
“Who?”
“In the backyard.” My voice finally grew louder, finding a steadiness. “I think that’s who Stassi was laughing at.”
“The mysterious shadow? Oh, come on, Bobbi. You’ve got to be kidding me?” His voice rose above mine. His face twisted, but not in darkness. It twisted in a way that insinuated I had fallen off my rocker.
“Don’t look at me like that, Tanner. Don’t question my sanity. I know you’re doing it.”
“Bobbi Baby.” The sweet nickname he gave me when we were just teenagers in love fell out of his mouth with a pleading I couldn’t understand. “I love you, but you can’t seriously think that the nightmares of a little you are now haunting our daughter? That’s not how life works. Those things aren’t real. You had a wild imagination, Stassi just probably has one too. I’m sure that’s what she inherited from you, not the monsters of your past.”
He was so sure of himself that, for just a moment, I second-guessed my own thoughts.
“It wasn’t a wild imagination.” My voice fell soft again. “It was real and I’m positive he was back today.”
Tanner pushed off of the counter and began pacing the kitchen, one arm crossed over his broad chest and the other lifted, his fingers resting on his chin. His eyes met mine and when they did, I knew he felt my unease resonating. His arms dropped and he walked back over toward where I was standing and enveloped me.
Tears fell silently onto his chest as he held me.
As a child, I had been through so much with the demons that had terrorized me. No one ever believed me. I was stuck with my experiences and with him. The shadow. Until, one day, he was gone. He hadn’t returned, but I was always afraid that one day he might show up again.
He was back.
Why me?
Why Stassi?
When I opened my eyes, the others all had cups in their hands. They were laughing and talking and so comfortable in my home. It was like they had been coming over for years. I shoved the thoughts of my past back in my mind and forced a smile to fall upon my lips.
“So, where’s your husband?” Ted asked.
I almost choked on my wine. I hadn’t been asked that question in nine years. At least, not with the word husband in the phrase. Stassi had asked many times where her dad was, but . . .
“I don’t have one.” I took another gulp of the wine. “It’s just me. Me and my daughter, Stassi.”
They all looked around like Stassi was going to appear out of thin air. I snickered silently and waited for them to return their attention to me.
“She’s in her room. She probably won’t come out.”
They regarded me with quizzical faces.
“She’s sixteen.” I finished my wine.
Their lips all turned up with bright smiles. They laughed as if that answer summed up any questions they may have had.
“Well, what if you told her there was a bowl of lasagna down here for her, would she emerge?” Micah asked as she placed a bowl in front of me. She began looking around the kitchen for what I assumed to be the silverware.
“They’re in the drawer under the microwave.”
“Thank you! You were reading my mind.” Micah opened the drawer and pulled out five forks. She handed one to me.
“She’s sixteen, honey. You know how that goes. She’ll come out when she’s good and ready. Pick your battles. Remember that?” Ashley shoved a forkful of the red dish into his mouth.
“I definitely do.” Micah rolled her eyes before focusing them on my green ones. “We had one just go off to college last year.”
I nodded as I wiped marinara sauce that had dripped onto my chin with my finger.
“I always wonder how someone who started off being such a little miracle could turn into such a terror then morph into someone who wants to avoid you like the plague.” Amy laughed.
She poured herself another glass of wine, still grinning widely. Amy was just about to screw the top back on when she looked over at my empty cup. She winked and took it upon herself to pull my cup closer to her and refill it before scooting it back in front of my plate.
• • •
After several cups of wine, too many actually, I knew I was in for a good night’s rest that would turn into a terrible morning. I changed into a big white t-shirt and put socks over my cold freckled feet. I sat down on the edge of my bed and finished the water by my bedside. I looked out of the large window in my room. The neighborhood seemed smaller somehow in the dark.
I got the same feeling I had when I was a child and my parents would turn the lights off when it was time to go to sleep.