The Widow's Walk Read Free

like tears, dampening the neckline of the dress.
    Elisabeth took control of her tongue. “Green was always your favourite colour, my love. Our son’s birthday is coming. Almost a year since you last came to me. Pray tell, will you return once again?” Elisabeth’s longing, her anguish, released itself into the wind.
    A gust carried his response, a whisper for only her ears. “Stay here, in our house. Honour my memory by living your life. Jared is caring for you both now.”
    “No, Edward!” Elisabeth swept tiny icicles off the gingerbread railing in frustration, not even flinching when a frozen splinter plunged into her palm. “Take me with you, my darling. Please.”
    The air stilled. The kisses vanished along with his presence. He had refused her once more.
    Elisabeth shrunk back to mourn. Liz shuddered. Her hand throbbed. Bloody droplets froze before they hit the railing.
    Liz pulled out the shard of wood and rubbed an icicle over the gash. She made her way down the steep, winding stairs. Denying Elisabeth yesterday had brought her literally out of the closet. The only chance of assuaging the ghost was to come up here every day. The visits hurt no one, and they might banish the panic attacks, maintaining her image of a woman in control; a good wife, an attentive mother.
    Liz poked her head out the doorway. Once she was assured the hallway was empty, as fast as the bustle and high button shoes would allow, she hurried to her room to hide the dress, put away the toilet paper, to just be Liz again.
    With the grief-stricken widow subdued, and her resolve bolstered by the new resolution, Liz joined Mae and Kevin in the parlor. Eddie crawled over Kevin who lay sprawled on the floor.
    Mae dusted the bookshelves. “So, what do ya think about Mike leavin’ this mornin’ without Kevin?” She held the feather duster up like a teacher’s pointer.
    “Fer goodness’ sake, Mae. Leave the poor guy alone. Maybe he doesn’t want company and is just too polite to say so.” Eddie dropped a pile of wooden blocks on his stomach. “Ugggh.” Kevin sat up and tucked the baby under one arm.
    They still didn’t suspect. “Mike’s been . . .”
    “Upset.” Mae put her hands on her hips.
    “Ya should stop puttin’ words in everyone’s mouth, Mae. It doesn’t involve ya, does it now?” Kevin showed Eddie how to knock over a block tower, and the baby giggled.
    “No, but . . . ”
    Liz took her turn. “I’m worried about Mike out there all alone, Kevin. That’s all.”
    “Understood, Liz. Leave it to me, will ya? Us guys never interfere when the ladies are workin’ things out.”
    “Ya wouldn’t dare.” Mae stomped out.
    Kevin stood, brushed himself off, and handed the baby to his mother. “I’ve got to earn my keep. As much as I love babysittin’, there’s a lot more manly things to be attendin’ to.” He saluted, grabbed his coat and wandered through the dining room into the kitchen. “Mae, where are ya?”
    Unintelligible fussing drifted from behind the closed door –typical husband-wife bicker.
    Eddie rubbed his eyes and whined. Time for a snack, then a nap. Liz sat on the sofa, rested her feet on the stool, and stared into the flames. The baby helped open the bra snap. “Time to get off the breast, Eddie, isn’t it?”
    He latched on with a relieved whimper. Even though she was going back to work, Liz was in no hurry to wean him. She stared into the glowing embers. Nestled belly to belly, Eddie traced her breast with a chubby hand. She savored the moment, the memories of happier times. Even nowadays when every encounter, every conversation with her grown son was loaded with strife and anguish, thoughts of Jay as an infant, and a loving, inquisitive little boy, re-kindled her maternal instinct. Should she call and tell him how desperate the financial situation had become, ask him to call off Bill Jeffers? No, Jay would say that he was doing the right thing by protecting her from wasting more money on a