Two Women, One Secret
Sandra McCoy sat at the head of a ugly, modern black dining room table, ‘no character’ she thought to herself. When had she replaced her antique mahogany dining table with this? She rubbed her feet together, her home felt colder than how she liked it, and usually she kept her slippers under the table within reach. Where had she placed them?
She could hear movement upstairs which was unsettling because her children had moved out decades ago and her husband Roger had died a few years back. Or had his name been Richard? Her relationship with Roderick had started off strong, after all they were high school sweethearts, but over the years and with each child they had together it further deteriorated. He began to change, turning cold, mean, and critical. Nothing she ever did was good enough for him. All he did was complain and nag, even a simple disagreement would turn into an all out arguing match. There were times things even turned physical. Sandra hated that her children had to grow up watching it all happen.
She hadn’t told anyone this but a small part of her felt relieved that he was gone. Having time to herself after his passing to rediscover her past hobbies that she had given up to be a wife and mother had been a blessing. The only problem was, her once lush flower garden in the backyard was now paved over, a small pool now sitting in its place. Toys spilled out of a chest that sat next to a couple of tan lounge chairs. Her brow furrowed. Who was making these changes to her home?
She wrung her hands together, too nervous to move from the table to check upstairs, the noise getting louder, coming closer. Randall used to be in charge of removing the rodents from the attic, sure he would huff and puff, cursing up a storm the whole time but he got it done. Or had his name been Ricky? Had it been so long that she couldn’t remember her own husband?
Sandra looked up away from the window and saw a young woman in front of her with dark brown hair and a sadness in her eyes she recognized. She had seen that look in herself. She knew her, but from where?
“Sandy, it’s nice to see you again,” the woman spoke as she leaned against the door frame. If they knew each other, why did she look at Sandra with such confusion and almost fear, like she had seen a ghost? “I took the advice you gave me,” the woman continued.
That’s when it clicked. “Joy, you look healthier than the last time I saw you. Did you get rid of him, like I told you,” Sandra asked in a whisper.
Joyce nodded, “yes, just like you said. I buried him in the garden. I didn’t want to take any chances so I had to have it paved over.”
A sad smile graced Sandra’s lips, “my husband Raymond —“
“You told me his name was Robert,” Joyce interrupted as she inched her way into the seat opposite Sandra.
“That’s right! Robert…,” Sandra frowned as all the memories of her late husband came rushing back after speaking his name. “Bobbie was a good man, at least he had been once upon a time. His job began to take a toll on him you know,” tears began to fill her eyes. “You can only cater to someone dead set on never being satisfied until one day you just give up.”
Again she stared longingly into the backyard, where her beautiful garden once stood, to the spot where her husband was buried.
“It didn’t get bad until our children were almost out of the house you see. He was powerful and he always went out of his way to make me feel so small. I had to take my power back!” Joyce was silent as she watched Sandra ball her fists up, her voice slowly starting to fade away.
Joyce knew the feeling all too well. Sandra had appeared at her dining room table one summer evening after she’d had a terrible fight with her own husband. He had slammed the door and walked out of the house to take a walk, to get some air. Better the door than her this time.
“When you moved in and I saw how your husband treated you and the children, I knew I had to help you,” Sandra said turning back to Joyce. “How’re you and the children doing now?”
“They miss him, sometimes I think I do too. I tell them he left and he’s not coming back and I know it hurts for them to hear it but I had to do what was for the best for all of us. There’s less tension in the house, they’re happier, they’re playing and smiling without fear of being yelled at or all of the nonstop arguing and that lets me know it was all worth it. We’re learning how to live together again, happily this time,” Joyce said.
Sandra McCoy smiled one last time. It had been years since she had sat at the head of the table in what used to be her home. She felt her good deed had made up for the mistakes she had made in her past.
The chatter and laughter of children could be heard as they descended the stairs making their way to the dining room.
“Thank you again Sandy,” said Joyce.
“Goodbye Joy, take good care of yourself and your children, and please get a new table and chairs that are actually comfortable to sit in.” They laughed.
Both knowing this was goodbye, Joyce stood and moved closer to Sandra in hopes she would be able to touch her for the first time, to comfort her for last time.
“I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine,” Sandra’s final words were whispered in Joyce’s ear as she disappeared from sight. The lingering smell of floral perfume left behind.
Joyce didn’t have much time to react before her children tackled her with a hug, the tears she had been holding onto spilled out. Quickly wiping her face, she enveloped them in a hug and chanted ‘thank yous’ like a prayer to herself in hopes Sandy could hear them.
This prompt was taken from The Write Practice, “a middle-aged woman discovers a ghost.”
