Through the Shadows (7 page)

“By insulting me? Listen to me! Of course that’s what you’re doing. That’s the way we’ve always done it, right? It’s just that, sometimes, our insulting type of humor gets on my nerves.”

Sharon walked around the counter and put her arms around her only child. She urged Tori to move, by gently pressing against her shoulders.

“Let’s go in the living room where it’s more comfortable. We’ll drink our coffee and you’re going to tell dear old Mom what’s been going on in your house.”

They talked for over two hours. Tori would relate an experience with her “ghost” and Sharon would answer with a logical explanation. Both women were getting annoyed with the other one for not seeing things in their proper light.

The end result of their long conversation was to go back and visit the scene of the crime. Each woman was smugly certain the other one would be proven wrong. Sharon believed she could convince her daughter that there were reasons for each oddity and Tori just knew her mother was an unbelieving ninny.

The house was suffocating. The thermostat that Tori had turned up now registered eighty degrees; they started shedding clothes as they walked.

The first room they inspected was the kitchen. Tori was about to explain the slamming sound that had driven her from the house when her mother snorted.

“Could this be what you heard, dear?” She held up a very large, heavy cookbook that was lying face down on the counter. Tori had gotten it when she was into her “I want to learn how to cook” phase. The book had been standing on the microwave oven since the first day it came into the house.

“I didn’t see that earlier! How did it get there?”

“I think that you were so busy getting out of here that you didn’t stop to look, Tori.”

“But, why would it fall? It’s been on the microwave for… I don’t know how long. Why would it, all of a sudden, just fly off?”

“I really don’t think it flew anywhere. An old house settles, Tori, and everything in the house shifts when it does. That book’s probably been on the verge of sliding off for a long time. One final shift, or the movement of your step, and wham! There it goes.”

“Well, what about all the other stuff, Mom? What’s your rational explanation for those?”

Sharon hugged her daughter to her, and kissed her forehead.

“But, Mom, what about the cold wind on my face waking me?”

“Well, the furnace
was
off at the time.”

“Okay, what about feeling someone standing behind me, in the computer room?”

“Your imagination. Everything that’s happened to you can either be explained, or you imagined it.”

“Humph! Not everything in this world can be explained, Mom.”

“If it is in this world, Tori, it most certainly
can
be explained. If it isn’t in this world, well, that’s a different story. I’ll admit that there are many things in this universe that I can’t explain, and neither can anyone else, at least not to my satisfaction.”

Tori was somewhat pacified by her mother’s admission that there were oddities with no rational answer. But that didn’t stop her from being scared. All the logic in the world would only go so far and then pure terror could set in. But, for the moment, Tori was more than happy to accept Sharon’s theories. She didn’t
want
to believe there was something strange in her home.

Maybe it truly was her cursed, over-active imagination. Even as a child, Tori had always enjoyed being melodramatic. Could this be an example of believing her own hype? If so, she needed to make that call to a therapist-soon!

What Tori didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that the events that had happened were far from logical. There definitely was a presence in her house. It wasn’t a monster, and it wasn’t exactly a ghost. It was a being with form, but no substance. It was a being that was growing stronger with each day. It was a being that was angry with Tori when she degraded herself, or her capabilities. It was an entity that wanted to be physically near Tori, and was getting closer to that desire with each passing day.

Chapter Six

…her hand trembled as she reached out to trace the outline of his provocative mouth. He took her hand and brought the palm to his lips, softly kissing it, and she felt his breath waltz along her wrist.

He laid her upon the fragrant grass, then encircled her body with his strong arms. He nuzzled her neck, reaching out his tongue to trail sweet fire along her shoulder. He lowered his face, softly nipping at the warm hollow of the valley…

The concentrated frown deepened between her eyes. Tori sighed, then snatched the phone from its cradle, still focused on the computer monitor and the sensual words waiting there.

“Um… yes?”

“Tori? Hi, it’s Jim.”

Four simple, innocent words that tightened her chest, and made her lose all concentration on what Avery was about to do next. This was a voice she hadn’t heard in over a year.

“Jim! Hello! How are you?”

“Well… Actually, I’m doing great. Things are going so well in my life; I couldn’t stand it if it were any better.”

Her fingers twisted the phone cord into knots, nearly tugging the phone off the desk. Her pale complexion reflected back to her from the computer screen.

“Wow. That’s really good to hear, Jim. I’m happy for you. Has something happened to bring about this wonderful change?”

Momentary silence met her question. Tori couldn’t understand how Jim could be so happy, yet so reticent to talk about it. She was just about to change the subject when she heard him take a deep breath.

“Tori, I’m getting married.”

It was now her turn to be speechless. A hundred thoughts flitted through her mind, burrowing themselves into her heart. She was angry with herself to realize a tear had slid down her cheek.

“That’s fantastic! Congratulations. Anyone I know? When’s the wedding?”

“No, no, you don’t know her. She just moved into the area about a year ago. She’s a nurse, working at one of the hospitals here in town.”

“A nurse, huh? I’ll bet that’s interesting. So, you’re getting married when?”

“Uh… well… next week.”

“Gosh! Next week, huh? Have you been thinking of a big church wedding?”

“No. We’re just going to Eureka Springs, Arkansas and find a chapel. We’re not worried about a big, splashy affair. We’ve been living together for a few months, so this is really just a formality. We were going to wait a while longer, but felt it best to do it now.”

“But, why? If you’ve been together all this time, why not just wait and let her have a nice church wedding? Surely she’ll want that. What’s the hurry?”

Another long stretch of heavy silence, at last broken with his monotone answer, as if he were striving to make his voice noncommittal, devoid of any happiness.

“Well, Shawna’s pregnant. She’s due in about seven months. We thought it was a good idea to go ahead and make it legal and maybe have a fancy church affair sometime after the baby is born. You know, maybe on our fifth wedding anniversary, or our tenth.”

Tori no longer tried to control the silent tears running down her face, but she did wipe at them angrily. As she stared out the window, she thought how ironic it was that the reason she was divorced was the very reason Jim was now remarrying. An uncharacteristic feeling of hatred washed over her, and she knew it was jealousy, with a liberal dose of pain at the knowledge she would never be picking out infant clothing and furniture with Jim, or any other man.

“Well, Jim, congratulations, again. I wish you and your new bride the best of luck. I have to go now. I have something boiling over on the stove. Goodbye.”

“Tori! Wait! I didn’t mean to upset you. I only thought it fair to tell you before…”

She waited a minute to be sure the connection was broken, then lifted the telephone and placed it on the desk. She didn’t think Jim would call back, but she didn’t want to talk to him, or anyone else, at the moment.

She laid her head on her crossed arms resting on the edge of the desk. Hot, bitter tears fell onto her lap. She raised her head, picking up a reference book, and savagely threw it across the small room.

And though he was unseen, and the flying object could not yet harm his vaporous form, Avery jerked his body to the side, instinctively dodging the thick book.

* * *

Tori lifted her sleep-drowsy eyes to stare at the wall as she again heard someone knocking at her front door. She glanced at the clock above her computer and realized she’d been out of it again. After Jim’s call, she’d evidently cried herself to sleep while leaning over the keyboard. Her headache had not abated. In fact, it seemed to have increased in intensity. Cursing beneath her breath, she stood stiffly to her feet, proving her body complained at the idea of her sleeping at her desk. She shuffled to the door and opened it just few inches until she saw who was standing there.

Sharon’s face was pale and her eyes were large in her pretty face.

“Tori? What’s wrong? I’ve been calling you for over two hours and the line was busy. I’ve been worried to death. Honey, what’s going on?”

Behind her mother’s back, Tori rubbed her eyes, which felt inflamed and gritty. She took a deep, calming breath as she turned to put her arms around Sharon. She could feel her mother’s body held rigid, and the fast, short breaths she was taking.

“Mom, I’m all right. I’m sorry. It seems I have to keep reassuring you, don’t I? I suppose I worry you a lot, but I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. I simply took the phone off the hook so I could get some writing done.”

Sharon stared into Tori’s eyes and disbelief was clearly written in her face.

“Victoria, you’ve never done that before. And you look as if you’ve been crying. Honey, please tell me the truth.”

Tori fell onto the sofa cushions, leaning her throbbing head against the upholstered arm. Sharon came to sit beside her daughter, taking Tori’s cold hand into her own.

“Mom, I’ve just got this terrible headache I can’t seem to shake. I was trying to get some work done and must’ve fallen asleep at my desk.”

“Sweetheart, there’s more to this story.”

“Okay, you’re right. I got a phone call-from Jim”

Sharon’s face reddened into a mother’s protective shade of concern.

“Oh, really? And what did dear ol’ Jim want to discuss with you?”

Tori rubbed her tired face and began to tremble. Sharon’s heart squeezed with love for her child.

“Jim just called, Mom, to tell me that he’s getting married.”

Sharon’s gasp of surprise seemed to lend credence to Tori’s feeling of betrayal, validating her need to mourn.

“Not only did he tell me he’s getting married, but Shawna, his fiancée, is pregnant.”

Tori felt herself being pulled into her mother’s warm embrace. It was the only thing needed for her to fully give into the hurt that seemed to be tearing her heart apart. She laid her head on her mother’s shoulder, her face buried into her neck as when she was a child, and sobbed.
Her slender shoulders shook with the passion of her pain.

Spent at last, Tori was comforted by her mother stroking her hair, rubbing her back, murmuring loving words of consolation against her child’s tear-streaked cheeks.
Hiccupping, Tori drew away from Sharon to reach for the box of tissues next to the sofa. She loudly blew her red nose, eliciting a grin from her mother. Tori saw her expression and began to giggle. No matter that it was the nearly manic sound sometimes accompanying grief; it still felt good to stop crying.

Sharon joined in the laughter, then stood and pulled Tori to her feet.

“Now, show me that ring you bought—which I’m still in shock about. This has got to be some ring.”

Even though she didn’t understand it, wariness seeped into Tori’s mind at the thought of showing the gold and jade ring to her mother. She didn’t realize that a look of secretiveness stole over her puffy face. She was as easy to read as one of her own books.

“Oh, I took it back to the boutique. It was much too expensive, even though it was so not worth it, and I’d never go anywhere to wear it. It was one of those spur-of-the-moment purchases we’ve all made, then regretted. You know, ‘buyer’s remorse’. My checking account looks much healthier since I returned it.”

She sensed that Sharon didn’t believe her and held her breath until her mother’s next words proved she wasn’t going to push the issue.

“Well, okay, Honey. How about me making us some coffee? That may actually help your headache. Have you taken any aspirin yet? I have some extra-strength ones in my purse. Here, take a couple of these, Tori.”

Tori swallowed the pills with her coffee as she listened to Sharon talk about Lydia’s details of her night spent with the editor. Sharon laughed out loud at some of the things her best friend had told her, and it felt good to Tori to share in her mother’s anecdotes.

After her mother was reassured enough to leave, Tori allowed herself to dwell on the morose feelings she was experiencing. She was at long last permitting herself the luxury of truly mourning the death of a love that she had believed would be forever. Even though it had been five years coming, she was only now grieving.

Along with the dissolution of the marriage, she mourned the loss of a dream never realized. With this she admitted unmitigated anger that it was Shawna, and not she, who would be having Jim’s child. Anger at her barrenness filled her heart and hot, scalding tears once again flowed down her face.
Tori felt betrayed by her ex-husband going on with his life, fathering a child, being
happy
. She railed against the injustices of life as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, staring at the far wall which still held a portrait taken of her and Jim in happier times.

Tori walked over and took the photograph from the wall. With a calmness that bordered on catatonia, she shuffled into the kitchen and dropped the frame into the garbage. The sound of breaking glass snapped her to attention and she sank to the floor, her arms splayed outward in supplication, her harsh sobs filling the solemn house.

When the sobbing became merely loud sniffles, Tori lifted herself from the floor and shuffled into the bathroom. Opening the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet, she shook two of the sleeping pills into her trembling hand. She stared at the pale, tired face that stared back at her, gulped the pills, then went to the bedroom. She fell across her bed, the crying no longer abrasive, more like silent admissions of failure. She lay on her back, the tears soaking her hair as they fell unabated till the moment she fell asleep.