Chapter Twenty-Four
An absolute nightmare, the rest of the afternoon had been predestined. But it was worse than Emily had imagined. Thick tension filled every room in the house. Trevor whined, screamed and repeated over and over the same movie line, shoot the Wendy bird. He spun on his bum in the middle of the kitchen floor, and then flapped his hands when Emily stopped him from shoving toys in and out of the bottom of the stove.
Katy woke from her nap crying, and even now whimpered as she clung to Emily's food-splattered blue jeans, shoving her thumb in her mouth. And to make it worse, Crystal wouldn't stay upstairs. She violated all of Emily's spaces, rummaging in Emily's closet, and then Katy's, and wandering through every room in the house. She settled finally in Brad's office, seated herself in his deep padded swivel chair, and put her high fashion heeled boots on Brads desk. Her smile reminded Emily of the cat that stole all the milk. An hour later, Crystal retreated back to Brad's bedroom.
At three-thirty, while Emily huddled in a corner of the living room with Trevor and Katy creating a Lego townhouse, Brad stormed in. Hurray, the cavalry's here. She wanted to jump up and throw her arms around her guy; the one she knew would throw this awful woman out. But the dangerous glow that lit his face and could set a barn on fire had Emily hunkering down with the kids. Emily had no desire to be on the receiving end of his wrath.
"She in here?" He bellowed.
Katy practically leapt on Emily's lap. Trevor never looked up.
Emily wanted him to be her knight in shining armor, to ask how she was. But he had tunnel vision. "She's in your bedroom."
"Take the kids out of the house, now."
Well this wasn't good. Brad stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, slamming his door so hard the living room windows rattled, shredding all hope of a peaceful and calm resolution. Emily leapt to her feet and bundled Trevor and Katy in their coats and hats. She felt an awful chill climb her back; the same kind when you know there's an intruder. She jumped; Cliff lingered outside the door, watching her in an odd way. Emily yanked on her coat collar and shivered. He said nothing as he stuffed his hands in his grimy jeans pockets, rocked on his heels, and then strode away.
Brad was shouting so loud she'd swear the walls shook. Emily lifted Katy and grabbed Trevor's hand, leading them outside to the barn to let them romp in a hay pile. More than an hour had passed, and Emily crept in the quiet front door. She expected, no hoped, Crystal would be gone and this nightmare ended. When she opened the hall closet, the door squeaked and so did the floor board upstairs. Stress and fury lingered in the air, vibrated in the walls, the floor and the furniture; the kind that did after a battle swept through.
Her heart pounded as she tiptoed around the corner, except it was darn impossible to keep two tired and hungry kids quiet. "Come sit down, how about Winnie the Pooh?" The opening credits flashed across the screen when Crystal sauntered down the stairs, her high-heeled boots clicking on the hard wood. She froze at the base of the stairs. Her mouth gaped at the kids perched on the edge of the leather sofa.
The woman was a menace. She crossed her arms over her chest in an obtrusive, rude gesture and appeared to challenge Emily. Well, Emily didn't, and wasn't going to, take the bait. What did the woman expect, for her and the kids to disappear? Newsflash, not going to happen. She strode into the kitchen to start dinner and doing her darnedest to ignore Crystal. It was unmistakable; the clickity, clack that followed. Emily opened the fridge and looked over her shoulder. She couldn't help but notice that Crystal appeared like a duck out of water in this kitchen. She crossed her arms and surveyed the entire room with something resembling disdain. "Is that your kid?"
Emily squeezed her fists and closed the fridge. Focus on dinner. Forget she's here. But that was damned impossible when you had hell's fire burning a hole in your back. Emily yanked open the fridge again, her hands trembled as she lifted out the pot of chicken stew and set it on the stove to warm. She then pulled out salad fixings.
The woman didn't move. And now she tapped her toe as if to remind Emily she expected an answer.
Emily let out a soft sigh. "Katy's in with Trevor." She didn't look up, but stirred the stew, struggling against the urge to cry. While Emily made a salad and set the table, Crystal hovered in such a way Emily was forced to step around her. Crystal circled the table as if counting places. Hah, maybe she wanted to see if there was a place for her. Well, there wasn't, and, until Brad told her otherwise, there wouldn't be. What the hell was this woman still doing here anyway? Why hadn't Brad thrown her out?
Emily had a hundred questions for Brad. She glanced at the clock. Her stomach ached with unease. Where was he? "Excuse me." Emily uttered through a clenched jaw as she attempted to put the hot pot of stew on the table. Just then she heard the men stomp in.
Emily didn't realize she was wringing her hands; nor the doomsday clock nipping at the back of her neck. No one said a word to Crystal. Brad paused, glanced at Crystal, and then moved to his spot at the table. Emily's heart sank to her knees. Robotically, she shuffled to the living room, switched off the television.
"Katy, Trevor, dinner's ready." Emily nearly tripped over her feet; Crystal sat in Emily's seat, next to Brad. Mac and Cliff sat stiffly and averted their eyes. Brad wouldn't look at Emily. His face tinged pink and his cheek twitched. What the hell is going on? Emily swallowed the rock stuck in her throat and forced back the tears threatening to burn a hole in her head. She seated Trevor beside Crystal and Katy in her spot.
Emily, her face burning, grabbed another plate and cutlery from the cupboard, and stumbled to the backdoor for the extra chair. No one offered to help, and she blinked back those hateful tears. It wasn't until she lifted the damn chair that she heard a chair scrape and footsteps. She knew who it was, but now she was too angry and hurt to be relieved.
"I'll take the chair, Em. Let go." She struggled to hold it together, but a cursed tear slipped out, then another.
"Why?"
He closed his eyes. Maybe that was easier than seeing how much he hurt her. "Let's eat, Em. I just want to eat dinner in peace."
What kind of response was that? Left speechless, she let go of the straight-back chair. She swiped away the tears and followed Brad. She scooted her chair in beside Katy and dished up. But instead of eating dinner, Emily knew she'd be eating her heart.