my shirt over my nose and grabbed some tongs to lift the carcass out. Then, gagging and stomach heaving, ran for the back door. I didn’t have shoes, so I did the responsible thing. I flung it. Mouse and tongs. With any luck, the critter would be dissolved by spring and I’d dispose of the tongs when I found them again.
I left the door open to remove the smell and headed back for the box. Curiosity filled me. I’d never known my husband kept any kind of journal. Where had he hidden them? In the garage where I rarely went? How did the lawyer get their hands on it? The evidence bags indicated the cops had confiscated the journals. Odd how I’d never heard of them when we went to court for his attempted murder of me. Then again, did they need more evidence? They had all they needed for a slam-dunk case.
Peering back inside the box, I snared the plastic sleeve that was marked with this year with no end date. He must have begun it in prison.
I pulled out the journal with its hard cover and flipped it open to see penned handwriting. Legible. An account of his life in prison.
Can’t believe they arrested me. Can’t they see what she is? She’s dangerous. One of them. She took over my wife’s body. She has to die.
2
It chilled to realize he spoke about me. Slightly nauseous, I flipped deeper into the notebook and gagged in my shirt, not because the smell got worse but because of what I saw.
Scribbles and scribbles of something that had dried brown. Blood. He’d written in blood. Three words. Over and over. Sometimes only one word per page.
Kill that bitch.
I dropped the vile notebook. Definitely garbage. My kids didn’t need to see their father’s descent into madness. Perhaps he’d gotten some kind of brain parasite that chewed up his common sense.
Opening the cupboard under the sink, I prepared to dump it all, only to worry Winnie might see it and pull it out. Speaking of whom, she hustled through the door in a blast of cold air. Guilt made me shove box to the side, out of sight behind the counter.
“Morning, Winnie.” Not her real name. That was actually Wendy. But I’d given her that nickname at a young age because she was my cuddly bear. “Late night?” She’d left not long after Darryl’s visit.
“I spent the night with a friend.” She practically glowed.
“Oh. Do I know them?”
“Yes. You do, and I don’t need you getting judgy about it, which is why I’m not telling you who yet. I don’t want to jinx it.”
Would I get judgmental? Depended. Her last semi-boyfriend was much older than her and asked if I wanted to do a threesome with my daughter. The one before that was married and her college professor. She didn’t have a great track record, but I’d learned what would happen if I told her I thought she was fucking up, so I stuck with, “I am so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” My girl grinned so wide she almost lost half her head. “I gotta go get ready for work. I start at ten and work until close. Don’t wait up, though. I’m spending the night at my friend’s house.”
What should a mother say when confronted with her adult daughter being open about her sex life?
Old me might have spouted off something about giving away the cow, not respecting herself, or something judgmental and holier than thou. Why did I do that?
Why would I try to shame my daughter about being in charge of her body and sexuality?
I found the right reply. “Have fun and stay safe.”
The big wide smile wrapped me in warmth. “I plan to have fun a few times.” She winked.
I gasped. “Wendy Agatha Dunrobin.”
She laughed, and a second later, I joined her.
I shook my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I know. One of my finer qualities. See ya tomorrow sometime.” Winnie left, and still inwardly smiling, I started to make a new coffee. As I turned, I remembered the box on the floor.
Good thing Winnie hadn’t seen it. If she’d asked, I don’t know if I could have lied. Best hide it for now. I hefted the box and ran it to my bedroom, where I encountered the dilemma of where to put it. I crouched down and lifted the skirt on my bed mostly because it didn’t have a skirt when I woke up. Look at that, enough space to tuck the