“Don’t tell Dad this…,” Kelley LeBrock began as she strolled into the kitchen and made a beeline for the well-stocked fridge.
Her mother, Maggie, cringed every time she and Kelley were alone together now and Kelley started a conversation that way.
Twenty-two year-old Kelley had moved back home with her parents six months ago after losing her first high-paying job to downsizing and her hard-to-get bachelor apartment to a rent hike all in one month. Though she loved her daughter dearly, Maggie found the stress of the three of them back under the same roof again unbearable. It hadn’t taken long to realize that once a child has left the nest, they outgrow their parents, and the coming back is an uncomfortable fit at best.
Maggie hated having to keep secrets from her husband, mainly because she wasn’t any good at it, and she knew that sooner or later she would slip and let the proverbial cat out of the bag.
Some people have poker faces they can hide behind, but Maggie’s couldn’t hide anything. Any time she tried to tell even a little white lie, the truth was written all over her face.
Max, her husband of twenty-five long years, had often chastised her for it, particularly since he could lie like a rug and get away with it – and often had over the years.
This time, though, Maggie was cringing because she was being put in the position of trying to keep something from Kelley and hoped against hope that, for once, she could actually pull it off.
Right now Maggie was in the middle of making a batch of her prize-winning fudge, her back to Kelley as she stirred the bubbling mixture on the hot element the required five minutes. The concentration it took to cook the fudge usually had a calming effect on her and she hoped it would work now.
“He’s the real reason Mike Gallagher has stopped seeing me, Mom,” continued Kelley, not perturbed in the least that her mother wasn’t making eye contact with her while she talked. “We were talking about getting married. Did you know that?
(Maggie had already guessed as much, but said nothing.)
“Mike said meeting Dad changed all that. He said everyone in town had told him I was so much like my dad that he couldn’t wait to meet him. But when he did, he said he was so embarrassed that he didn’t want to be in the same room with him. He said that
he was afraid that if we did get married, the older I got, the more I might be like him. And if, God forbid, we should have children, being around him, they would be like him too.”
Maggie remained silent as she continued stirring, taking in her daughter’s every word. She had never been good at repartee, particularly when the conversation had the potential to turn into a heated debate.
“Remember when we all went to that fancy restaurant on South St. last month and Dad took over the whole show. He made a big deal about where we should sit and practically ordered for everyone. When he wasn’t loudly opinionated or just plan rude, he kept joking with the waitress using those same old tired lines he’s been using for years.
“And when it was time to pay the bill, you’d have thought he was being sent to the poorhouse by the look on his face, particularly when he hemmed and hawed over the tip he was leaving.
“I loved Mike, Mom. He was the best thing that’s come along for me in a long time, but now he’s gone. Why does Dad do that?”
“That’s just the way he is, dear,” replied Maggie, not knowing quite how to defend her husband when these were the very same things that had really begun to irritate her too. “I usually just ignore him and tune him out. It’s easier that way.”
“That’s why I won’t go anywhere with you and Dad any more. It’s too embarrassing for me too. I just can’t handle him any more; he’s so phony. I don’t know how you can, Mom. If I didn’t have to live here, I wouldn’t. By the way, where is he? Shouldn’t he be home by now?”
“Your dad called and said he had to work late,” replied Maggie, without turning.
Kelley watched for a minute longer as her mother concentrated on pouring the hot fudge into the prepared pan. Before leaving the kitchen finally, she admonished her one more time saying, “Remember, Mom, don’t tell Dad.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” replied Maggie, smiling to herself as she thought about her husband’s fast cooling body safely tucked away under a big blue tarp behind the garage’s locked doors till she could find a way to dispose of it. “I promise I won’t.”
Happy Halloween. A volume of Horrible Haunts & Twisted Tales taken from the horror books La Belle Rouge has written every October for a decade and a half. If you have read her works in the horror genre, you know the invitation is for you to enjoy thr
Did you ever wonder what happened after the Archangel Michael through the demons out of heaven? Let one of them guide you through the origin of evil in the world.
