The Darkest Lullaby

Author:Jonathan Janz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2013-04-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

An hour after Ellie finally ceased her character assassination, Chris unrolled the last sheaf of paper and studied it.

With a satisfied sigh, he placed the sheet facedown on the others and stretched in his chair. Outside, the clouds portended another thunderstorm.

He reached up, massaged his scalp, and wondered what to do about Ellie.

He went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, toweled the oil off his nose. He rubbed his cheeks, the hard stubble scraping his fingertips, but decided against shaving. Back when he taught, he came to loathe shaving every morning, and now that he was done with that career he could forego a shave any time he damn well pleased.

Yes, he thought as he went downstairs to find Ellie, he really did feel finished as a teacher. Circumstances might dictate a reentry into education later on, but only if the writing gig didn’t pan out.

He suspected it would. He wouldn’t share this suspicion with Ellie, not yet, because her reaction would be what it was to every decision he made.

The decision to move to Indiana: hysteria.

The decision to not interview for a job right away: hysteria.

The decision to move Lillith’s stuff in here so they weren’t living in an empty house.

Hysteria didn’t even begin to describe her reaction to that one. You’d have thought she’d be happy to have furniture, appreciative of him busting his ass all day to get the stuff moved.

But not Ellie.

He came into the kitchen and saw her sitting at the little round table. She looked up at him, but he stared at the table a moment longer. It would need to go. It reminded him too much of California. Too much of her past.

“You okay?” he heard her asking.

“Fine,” he said absently. He went over to the coffeemaker, lifted out the plastic filter and tapped the grounds into the wastebasket.

“You don’t seem fine.”

He could feel her eyes crawling over him, probing for a weakness she could exploit. Marriage was always a battlefield with Ellie.

He chuckled to himself. Who’d said that? Pat Benatar? Sheena Easton?

“Wanna share?” she asked in her wheedling voice.

Washing out the filter, he said, “Not particularly.”

He removed the pot from the coffeemaker and held it under the tap. He waited, knowing she was working up to it.

“Honey,” she began. “We need to talk.”

When he didn’t answer, she added, “We need to talk about yesterday.”

He positioned the coffee pot and thumbed on the machine. “Great,” he said and leaned against the cabinet. “Let’s talk some more.”

Ellie frowned at him, but he folded his arms and kept his expression neutral.

“Can’t you sit next to me?” she asked. “You look like a bouncer.”

“I’d rather stand.”

She seemed to deflate. She scooted her chair around to face him and said, “Why do you suddenly hate me?”

“Why do you feel the need to vent your spleen against the woman who gave us all this?”

“All this? You mean this place that’s isolated from the rest of the planet?”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“The bridge is out,” she said, hooking a thumb toward the lane.

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