Winter's Destiny (6 page)

He had been stepping out of his trousers. The question stopped him. “Of course. Why ask such a stupid question?”

She slid around and looked at him. “Because, we hardly ever make love anymore.”

Dan turned away from her and busied himself laying out his clothes for morning. “Long days at the clinic and the hospital, that’s all.”

“That never bothered you before.”

He became agitated. “Come on, Amy, what’s the big deal?”

She had watched him, noticing that he wouldn’t
or couldn’t
look at her. Disappointed, she had turned around and stared at the double bed that Dan had bought her. She remembered thinking,
how many men allocate a separate bed for their wife?

Dan had continued to drift away from her…and now she knew with certainty where he had gone. Perhaps, that was the beginning of his infidelity, but the truth was, she
had not wanted to know about it!
She believed his excuses so that she wouldn’t need to face the facts. Facing the facts would mean dealing with the burden of being married to an unfaithful husband. It would mean calling Dan on his infidelities. Decisions about their future would have needed to be made, and she wasn’t up to that. She wasn’t up to any of it. Would she have left him? Will she leave him now? Was there any hope for their marriage and their future?

Amy put her hands over her face. She hated confrontation. She avoided it at all cost and always had. She had never stood up for herself over even the smallest issues with Dan. He’d won almost all disagreements simply because Amy couldn’t bring herself to fight for what she wanted.

She had been stupid, so stupid!
Confused, hurt, and humiliated, she closed her eyes. She ached so much inside that she felt ill.

Zombie-like she walked barefoot onto the veranda and stared at the ocean with unseeing eyes. She had to get away from the house. His presence was everywhere and it was strangling her. She found herself at the beach stairs, and gripping the rail, oblivious to the cold wind, she descended the uneven staircase.

The ocean always makes things right.

Amy ran, her bare feet flying over the hard, damp sand, her thoughts penetrating the seven years she had shared with Dan. It had been so good in the beginning. He had been the perfect doting husband: kind, considerate, and loving. Where had that gone? What caused the change? Was it her? Had she changed? Had she unknowingly pushed him away? Had she failed to meet his needs? Had she put Jamie before Dan once too often?

Gramps hadn’t always disliked Dan. That developed after Jamie was born. Did Gramps know about Dan’s transgressions? Is that where Gramps’s dislike stemmed from? How many others know?

Time passed. Eventually, exhaustion slowed her. Finding herself near the cape for the second time, she turned wearily back toward home.
Home?

The offshore fogbank had absorbed the sunset, sending a stiff cold wind into the early twilight. She had not stopped to put on a jacket and her bare feet were numb with cold. The heavy waves curled higher onto the beach, their icy wash stinging her ankles. Amy looked at the rising breakers with sudden awareness. One loomed higher than the rest, draining the bay in front of it. She’d been careless. Oregon’s infamous Sneaker Wave was a rogue wave that moves faster than others, absorbing them, growing higher, steeper, thicker, and more powerful, until it unleashes its fury onto the coast, and occasionally sweeps people out to sea. It can surge a hundred feet beyond the water’s edge, then retreat, sucking back anything or anyone in its path.

Amy dug her feet into the sand and raced up the beach, the roar of the sea pounding in her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a massive wall of green water curling behind her. Adrenaline pumped through her arteries and she spurted forward. She leapt over a log, and bolted for the rock embankment, striking it at full speed, desperately wedging her body into a crevice. The wave, a huge green claw, impaled itself on the embankment, sending tons of water into the air. The force of it flung her backward into the crevice, smashed her head and shoulder against the rock, pinning her, and drenching her with cold seawater. Pain ripped across the back of her eyes. She gulped salt water and choked, wishing desperately that the crevice was deeper.

The suction would come next. She knew she had to hold tight or be carried out to sea. Digging her feet into the rocky ledge, she stuffed her body into the wedge and wrapped her fingers around an extruding stone. The giant wave receded, its powerful suction tearing at her, ripping her fingers off the rock, and lifting her out of the crevice. She clawed at the rock, but the suction was too strong.

Amy was submerged now, unable to breathe, being swept backward over the sand. She clawed at it, hoping to stop the backward momentum, but the sand traveled with her. She tumbled in the receding surge. Her lungs were bursting. Something struck her foot. It was the log she had jumped over a few minutes earlier. She wrapped her arms and legs around it and held on tight. For a moment it held firm. The water receded past her and she surfaced, gasping for air. Then the log shifted, and they began to slide together down the beach. They were being sucked out to sea!

Amy could see deep water approaching fast. Only a few seconds left. The log hit something hard and came to a jarring stop, throwing her forward. She dug her feet into the sand and for a second she obtained a foothold, then the sand washed out from beneath her. She propelled herself forward again and dove for a boulder that protruded from the wash. Grabbing it, she held on while water and sand swirled past her. When she looked up, the surge was gone.

Amy tried to stand. Her legs were barely able to hold her, her body drained. She gasped and choked and coughed water from her lungs; then staggered up the beach, wet clothes clinging to her body. Shaking with cold and exhaustion, she collapsed at the bottom of the staircase and vomited seawater into the sand. With watery eyes she looked out at the angry sea.

Sneaker Waves.

Life is full of them.

Amy was in a deep, troubled sleep when a sound awoke her. She was lying on her side, back to the bedroom door, but she dared not roll over until she could figure out what had awakened her. She scanned the window side of the room: the curtains were still, the rocking chair empty. Dan’s bed was unoccupied. He hadn’t come home.

Nothing moved.

Then she heard it again. Closer this time. Behind her, near the door. A footstep? Her heart began to pound, her ears alert for the next sound, her body tense.

Was it Dan? He always went straight to the bathroom, closed the door, and switched on the light. Not only that, he always made a lot of noise. So it wasn’t Dan.

Amy had no weapon and vowed to get one for the bedside table. Every muscle in her body was poised for action.

Suddenly, two gloved hands grasped her head and pushed her face into the pillow.

Amy kicked out, her body flying off the bed.

“Don’t move!” Male voice--garbled. Strong hands.

The intruder slammed her down hard onto the mattress, shoving her face back into the pillow. Her heart went into overtime. She couldn’t stand closed spaces, let alone being smothered. It was her only phobia and it was debilitating. Now, it mixed with the fear for her life.

His hand squeezed the back of her head where she’d been bruised and cut by the rogue wave. “Lie still and you won’t get hurt!” He wheezed in her ear. “Stop! That’s better. Now listen carefully. You made a big mistake calling the Sheriff. Back him off before it’s too late. You hear! Back him off fast or your boy will pay for your stupidity.”

Fear pierced right through Amy’s chest.
No. Not Jamie!
She tried to nod, to tell him she understood, not to hurt Jamie, but his grip was viselike.

“Understand?” The pressure on the back of her head let up slightly.

“Yes!” Amy choked.

“Good,” said the muffled voice, “I’m going to let go. Don’t raise your head. Don’t move! Got that?”

“Yes!” Amy’s muffled reply sounded more like, “Us!”

He released her and said nothing more. Amy remained stone still under the pillow, sweat pouring off her. There was no air! She bit her lip trying to control her panic. Twisting her head away from the pillow an inch at a time, she finally freed herself and inhaled deeply.

At last, she could see across the room. It was dark, but she knew he was gone. The room was heavy with his presence. Sitting up, she grabbed the phone and with shaky fingers, she speed dialed Nita. After three rings her sister-in-law’s groggy voice answered. “’Lo?”

“It’s Amy,” she whispered hoarsely. “I know it’s late, but could you please check on Jamie.”

“What? It’s three in the morning!”

“Nita, someone broke into our house. He threatened to hurt Jamie. Please Nita, make sure he’s okay.”

“Broke in your house? When? Now?”

“Yes! Nita, please!”

“Be right back.”

Amy paced the floor beside her bed. For all she knew
he—
whoever
he
was
--
could still be inside the house.
Hurry up!

Nita came back on. “Jamie’s sound asleep. Everything’s fine. You want me to call 911?”

“No! They’ll hurt Jamie if we do that. You understand me, Nita?
Don’t call anyone
.”

“I don’t understand—“

“Wake up Brandon—“

“He’s awake.”

“Check your doors and windows. Make sure they’re locked. Let the dog out. If anyone comes onto the property he’ll bark. And Nita?”

“What?”

“Bring Jamie into the room with you. Don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Amy—”

“Bye. And thanks, Nita.” Amy set the handset onto the charger and tiptoed to her closet where she had tucked away the baseball bat she had bought for Jamie’s birthday. She gripped the handle and walked softly into the hall. Cautiously, she worked her way through the house, arms and shoulders tensed, ready to swing. She checked windows and doors, and turned on lights. On the main floor she felt a cool breeze coming from the laundry room. Tightening her grip on the bat, she crept to the laundry room door, readied the bat, and looked inside. No one. The window was wide open, and below it, leaves and dirt littered the floor.
He came in through here!
Amy shuddered, yanked the wooden window closed, and turned the lock.

The break-in jarred her. She felt violated even though he had not hurt her. She was angry that
he
broke into her home, but most of all, she was terrified for Jamie. She paced the entrance hall, the family room, the library, and ended up in the kitchen, where she put on a pot of coffee. She paced while she waited for it to brew.

He
had grabbed her head and pushed her into the pillow, but in the split second before his glove touched her, she had inhaled. There had been a distinctive and familiar odor on the glove, but she couldn’t place it. She poured coffee into a tall mug, knowing she would never go back to sleep.

Something terrible was happening, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She had seen the injured woman and called the sheriff’s office. Now, Jamie was in danger. How could she get the Sheriff to
back off
? She needed help, but if she couldn’t get it from the police, then where? Dragging anyone else into this would be crazy. She was trapped.
Gramps is right. I should take Jamie and get out of here.

Amy had her back to the living room. Something inside the house had changed. She could feel it. Looking up, Amy saw an image on the microwave glass. A man was behind her. Amy gasped and whipped around, coffee flying from her cup.

“Dan!” she screamed. Her cup crashed to the floor.

He stood perfectly still, his eyes on her, his face inflamed with angry red bumps.

Amy leaned on the counter, her heart hammering in her chest. Why had Dan made this sudden, silent appearance behind her when he usually makes enough noise for three people? “What are you doing! Why did you sneak up on me like that? What’s the matter with you? And why are you standing there, gaping at me? Jesus!” Angrily, she reached under the sink for a cloth, and then knelt to wipe up the spilled coffee.

Dan didn’t move, nor did he speak. Instead, he watched her mutely, a crazy, disjointed look on his face. Infuriated, Amy’s cloth flew in all directions at once, slapping against chair legs and cupboards. She stood up, tossing the mug into the sink. “What's the matter with you!” she yelled. “It’s like the twilight zone around here—a lookalike that somebody wants dead, a car pushed over a cliff, a warm fuzzy letter telling me about your affair, a Sneaker Wave out of nowhere—” Her voice rose to a breaking crescendo. “and then some thug breaks in here and threatens to hurt Jamie…”

“Rogue wave? Thug? You’re talking crazy.”

“Crazy! You have no idea what’s been going on, but threatening to hurt Jamie is the last straw.” She knew she was screaming, but couldn’t stop herself.

“Who would hurt Jamie? You’re losing it, Amy.”

Amy stood and let fly with the towel. It struck him on the cheek and fell to the floor. She suddenly felt better and used her sleeve to wipe the tears from her face. She had never done anything like that. Maybe Dan was right—she was losing it. Too much going wrong too fast.
Get a grip!

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Finally Dan broke the silence. “I’m leaving.”

“You just got here.”

“No Amy. I’m leaving permanently.”

Amy gaped at him. “What! Because I threw a towel at you?”

“No. Because it’s time, that’s all.”

“Time! You mean you set an alarm seven years ago, and it just went off?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’ve spent the last—how many years—screwing around. Now, you’re tired of playing husband and you’re bailing, is that it?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Really? You’ve got a libido from hell that croaks the minute you come near me, and
I don’t understand
?”