said without looking at Mindy, “So. What’d you do for a living?”
“I am… was… a housewife.” Mindy ignored the clench in Nic’s hand as it poured the iced tea. “Mostly.”
Mare, relaxed and comfortable in Nicole’s tidy kitchen, held up her own glass for a refill while rubbing her lower belly with her other hand. “You didn’t have to work?”
Mindy wished Nicole wasn’t so nervous and twitchy around her. She managed a thank-you smile as Nic returned her glass. “I’ve always wanted to bake for a living, or at least the joy of it. Cookies, cakes, that kinda thing. Jeff won’t let me, so I volunteer at fundraisers for the Kiwanis and the Chamber of Commerce. Pancake feeds, raffles, stuff like that. When Jeff says it’s all right.” She let out an exasperated breath. “Used to. Sorry. This time jump stuff is still unreal.”
Nic blinked. “You’re kidding.”
Mindy glanced at Mare, who had begun to stare.
“Um. No, not kidding,” Mindy said, shifting in her seat. “I lost almost three years. It’s seriously weird.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Nicole put the tea into the fridge then grabbed a dishtowel off the oven door handle to sop up the mess. “Your husband let you take raffle tickets?”
Mindy swallowed and sipped her tea, hoping they didn’t notice her shaking hand. Jeff’s ambition allowed no disobedience, no distraction, no possible impediment to his goals. He’d even, on occasion, bashed in headlights, altered records, or left dead animals as gruesome messages for his rivals, anything to ensure his plans would succeed. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. If she didn’t fall in line and help him, she was an obstacle, which simply was not tolerated.
She set her glass down and managed to squeak out, “He has to keep up appearances with his job, and me taking care of him, making sure he has everything he needs all of the time, is a big part of that. If I have spare time, I can volunteer. If the charity is suitable.”
Mare seemed to be struggling to find her voice, but at last she said, “You’re actually joking. Right?”
“No,” Mindy said, shaking her head. She remembered when she had been nominated for Kiwanis Secretary. Jeff had been furious. How dare she be nominated to be an officer before he was? How dare she have a goal or dream? How dare she upstage him? Did she sleep with the nominating committee? If that’s all it took to get a nomination, why didn’t she do it to get him on the ballot?
He’d struck her then, the first and only time he’d escalated from verbal to physical abuse. She’d called a lawyer the next day, but it had been so expensive, thousands of dollars for a retainer. And Jeff never let her have more than twenty bucks at once. She was trapped, and he liked it that way.
Mindy took a breath and said, “Jeff, he wants, arrgh, wanted to move up at the bank and part of that’s participating in community activities. Being noticed. Ya know? And I had to help him. It’s really not a big deal.”
Nicole tossed the towel on the counter and sat. She started to speak, then stopped herself and shook her head.
Mare said, “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Me either,” Nic mumbled, looking away as she sipped her tea. “Aaron knows I’d kick his freaking butt if he tried to tell me what I could or couldn’t do.”
“Not supposed to cuss, Mom!” Nic’s daughter hollered from the living room.
“I didn’t,” Nic hollered back.
Mindy took a breath. “I’m guessing your husband loves you. Jeff… I thought I’d won the luck lottery when he came along, yet look what he did to me.”
She held Nic’s distrustful gaze and her voice cracked as she said, “I think it’s his fault I’m dead. Was dead. Shit.” And now I’m cursing. Way to go, Mindy. She scrunched her eyes closed for a moment. “Whatever you call this—“
The little girl, Steffie, bounced in with a blue mason jar in hand. It was partially filled with change.
“I am… was… a housewife.” Mindy ignored the clench in Nic’s hand as it poured the iced tea. “Mostly.”
Mare, relaxed and comfortable in Nicole’s tidy kitchen, held up her own glass for a refill while rubbing her lower belly with her other hand. “You didn’t have to work?”
Mindy wished Nicole wasn’t so nervous and twitchy around her. She managed a thank-you smile as Nic returned her glass. “I’ve always wanted to bake for a living, or at least the joy of it. Cookies, cakes, that kinda thing. Jeff won’t let me, so I volunteer at fundraisers for the Kiwanis and the Chamber of Commerce. Pancake feeds, raffles, stuff like that. When Jeff says it’s all right.” She let out an exasperated breath. “Used to. Sorry. This time jump stuff is still unreal.”
Nic blinked. “You’re kidding.”
Mindy glanced at Mare, who had begun to stare.
“Um. No, not kidding,” Mindy said, shifting in her seat. “I lost almost three years. It’s seriously weird.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Nicole put the tea into the fridge then grabbed a dishtowel off the oven door handle to sop up the mess. “Your husband let you take raffle tickets?”
Mindy swallowed and sipped her tea, hoping they didn’t notice her shaking hand. Jeff’s ambition allowed no disobedience, no distraction, no possible impediment to his goals. He’d even, on occasion, bashed in headlights, altered records, or left dead animals as gruesome messages for his rivals, anything to ensure his plans would succeed. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. If she didn’t fall in line and help him, she was an obstacle, which simply was not tolerated.
She set her glass down and managed to squeak out, “He has to keep up appearances with his job, and me taking care of him, making sure he has everything he needs all of the time, is a big part of that. If I have spare time, I can volunteer. If the charity is suitable.”
Mare seemed to be struggling to find her voice, but at last she said, “You’re actually joking. Right?”
“No,” Mindy said, shaking her head. She remembered when she had been nominated for Kiwanis Secretary. Jeff had been furious. How dare she be nominated to be an officer before he was? How dare she have a goal or dream? How dare she upstage him? Did she sleep with the nominating committee? If that’s all it took to get a nomination, why didn’t she do it to get him on the ballot?
He’d struck her then, the first and only time he’d escalated from verbal to physical abuse. She’d called a lawyer the next day, but it had been so expensive, thousands of dollars for a retainer. And Jeff never let her have more than twenty bucks at once. She was trapped, and he liked it that way.
Mindy took a breath and said, “Jeff, he wants, arrgh, wanted to move up at the bank and part of that’s participating in community activities. Being noticed. Ya know? And I had to help him. It’s really not a big deal.”
Nicole tossed the towel on the counter and sat. She started to speak, then stopped herself and shook her head.
Mare said, “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Me either,” Nic mumbled, looking away as she sipped her tea. “Aaron knows I’d kick his freaking butt if he tried to tell me what I could or couldn’t do.”
“Not supposed to cuss, Mom!” Nic’s daughter hollered from the living room.
“I didn’t,” Nic hollered back.
Mindy took a breath. “I’m guessing your husband loves you. Jeff… I thought I’d won the luck lottery when he came along, yet look what he did to me.”
She held Nic’s distrustful gaze and her voice cracked as she said, “I think it’s his fault I’m dead. Was dead. Shit.” And now I’m cursing. Way to go, Mindy. She scrunched her eyes closed for a moment. “Whatever you call this—“
The little girl, Steffie, bounced in with a blue mason jar in hand. It was partially filled with change.
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