A Sinclair Homecoming. Kimberly Meter Van

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ He’d had so many of them. And of course, if she didn’t share his opinions, he’d had ways of impressing upon her his wisdom. Morgan suppressed a shudder and couldn’t help the glance over her shoulder, even though she knew her dead husband wasn’t going to be behind her, watching.

      He’d always been watching. Waiting for her to screw up so that he could correct her. Lovingly, of course.

      Stop thinking of him! He’s gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Morgan climbed into her Lexus and closed the door a bit more forcefully than she intended, and the sharp sound caused her to jump. Her heart pounded, and she emitted a shaky laugh at her foolishness. All she needed was time. Time to heal. Time to forget.

      But even as she rattled off to herself the same advice she gave others, she knew, in her case, it was a lie because there were some things that not even time could erase.

      The punishments. The rigid adherence to certain rules. David’s rules. That even now, three years later, she couldn’t free herself from. A part of her lived in fear that David might pop from the shadows and discover that the towels in the downstairs bathroom were not lined up properly nor were they color coordinated. It was a small thing. But not in David’s world. And subsequently not in hers. Usually, she could keep the memories from biting but tonight was proving more difficult as a particularly brutal one began nipping at her thoughts.

      “Morgan...would you come here, please.”

      Morgan stilled the chopping of celery and swallowed, a familiar trickle of fear following the knowledge that he was in the bathroom. Hadn’t she replaced the linens with fresh stock this morning? David preferred everything clean, particularly for the guest bathroom as that was the room others would see. Of course, it made sense to ensure the guest bathroom was spotless. Impressions were important.

      “Coming,” she answered, placing the knife on the cutting board and carefully wiping her hands on her apron and not on the dish towel as David had taught her.

      She rounded the corner and saw David scowling in obvious displeasure at the spotless marble counter. “Can you tell me what is amiss here?”

      Morgan tried not to tremble as her gaze quickly searched for what was out of place. Her stare settled on the tiny soap ooze from the dispenser. Hadn’t she wiped it down after using it? A bead of sweat popped along her brow in spite of the subtle chill of the house. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it right away,” she said, moving to clean the soap dispenser but he caught her hand in a tight grip, squeezing the bones until she winced. “I-I’m sorry...I didn’t mean—”

      “What would people think about our home if they saw this? Can we not keep a tidy home? Are we slobs?”

      She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.

      “No, we are not,” he agreed, tossing her hand away and grabbing a handful of hair in a move so fast she almost didn’t see it coming. Almost. Pain exploded as he wrenched her to her knees, practically dragging her from the bathroom. “I do this because I love you,” he yelled, his face livid with rage. “You must enjoy these punishments because you make me do these things.” He shook her hard. “Do you hear me? I love you! Someday you will learn and I won’t have to do these terrible things to you anymore. Don’t you want that?”

      “Y-yes! Please, David! Please!” She cried, her knees bruising from the hardwood floor. “I’ll do better next time. I promise!”

      “Lies...all you do is lie to me when I give you the best of everything. How did I get saddled with such an ungrateful bitch for a wife?” He tossed her away like garbage and she nearly shuddered with relief, believing his rage was spent but she was wrong. Suddenly, he buried his booted foot in her stomach and she blacked out from the pain.

      The next day she’d bled out the remains of the child she hadn’t known she was carrying.

      Six weeks was barely pregnant, she’d told herself as she’d tried to get over her grief. If David hadn’t been worried that he’d ruptured something internal when she wouldn’t stop bleeding, she might never have known about the child.

      And David had been so remorseful.

      Almost sweet—for a time.

      “Baby, you’re my life. I am nothing without you,” David had cried, clinging to her, demanding her comfort even though she was numb with shock. “I don’t know what came over me. I am completely distraught over what happened. You know it was an accident, right?”

      “Of course,” she murmured, stroking his hair with mechanical motions. David liked his hair gently stroked in a certain way. Although the hospital had recommended that she stay overnight, David had been insistent that he would care for her. Lying in their bed as David wept, Morgan had wished for the solitude of a hospital room. “It’s okay.”

      “Why do you push me to do those things?” he asked plaintively. “And why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

      “I didn’t know.”

      He pressed a tender kiss to her belly and hugged her tightly. “To think...my child had been growing right here... I am beside myself over what happened.” His words had seemed so sincere, so racked with grief that she’d actually begun to wonder if things were going to get better. Perhaps a child would heal what was broken between them. “Can you ever forgive me, my love?”

      “Of course,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. Six weeks pregnant was hardly pregnant at all. They could try again. They would try again. And everything would be wonderful again.

      Morgan closed her eyes, hating that she was stuck remembering old history when she tried so hard to forget. Maybe it was the Sinclair case dredging up the past. Or maybe it was her failed attempt to go to grief counseling. But either way, she wanted to be done with it.

      Startled, she realized tears were tracking down her face. Damn it. She wiped at her face with a tissue and forced a bright smile. That’s it. Smile. David is dead. No one knows your secret and everything is fine.

      Just fine.

      Morgan squared her shoulders and put the car into Drive, making a mental note to order new tires before the snow season started.

      * * *

      WADE WAS SILENT most of the drive to their parents’ house but his mind was anything but still. “I don’t understand,” he said finally, shifting in the passenger seat as he tried to make sense of everything. “How did this happen?”

      “I don’t know. It didn’t happen overnight. You know me and Mom have always had a rocky relationship so I wasn’t spending a lot of time at the house, plus with Dad doing his marijuana growing, I didn’t want to know too much. And frankly, I had my own stuff I was going through. I didn’t have time to try and figure out what was going wrong with Mom and Dad. I thought they’d work it out somehow. It wasn’t until a few months ago that I realized that things had gotten way out of control. By that time, it was more than I could handle on my own.”

      “But this sort of hoarding takes years to accumulate, right?”

      “Yes and no. I mean, Mom’s always been a collector so I was used to seeing gobs of stuff piling up here and there but it didn’t get to this point until the last year. I think it has a lot to do with Dad moving out to the shed to be closer to his marijuana. Maybe it was the final straw.”

      “And СКАЧАТЬ