I blinked away the tears.
For the first time since Phillip tried to tear us apart and someone violated our space, my tears were happy. “You did this for me? You had it planned since we got on the snowmobile?”
Van pulled the hat from his head, leaving his dark mane a mess and grinned. Despite the visor, his cheeks were pink from the cold and wind. “I had it planned before that. The snowmobile suit didn’t arrive until today.”
I too pulled my mittens from my hands and the hat from my head. “You know, I’m as much of a mess as I was that first night.” I turned to the door. “You will lock that?”
“I’ll lock it.” He tilted his head to the kitchen counter. “It’s a bit old-fashioned, but now we have a battery-operated CB. Our phones won’t work, but we can radio Michael or Albert if we need anything.”
Shaking my head, I wrapped my arms around Van’s torso. “I love you more every day.”
“You know me, more is better.” His expression turned serious. “We can leave and go back to the house if you want.”
“I don’t want that.”
Breaking away, he pointed to the table. “We even have Mrs. Mayhand’s cooking. It’s staying warm in the oven.”
“Is there anything you didn’t think of?” I asked.
He took a step toward me and reached for the zipper on the front of the snowsuit. “I believe the next order of business on our agenda is one of my favorite activities.” He pulled the long zipper until it was near my thigh. “Undressing you.”
I did the same, pulling the zipper on the front of his jumpsuit. “Only if you get to join me in my undressed state.”
Van
Less than eleven years ago
“Come with me,” I said. It was as if my voice weren’t audible. Perhaps it was only in my own head. “Madison.”
She turned my way, her green eyes glassy as if the world was no longer in focus.
I went closer. “Let’s get out of the house.”
“He’s coming.”
Her words were a direct hit, a kill shot to what was left of my heart. The one sentence hurt more than I wanted to admit, but it wasn’t a surprise. No, I’d been expecting it since the day Madison got the test result she’d wanted.
He was coming.
Phillip was on his way to take his wife and the baby within her.
Walking away, I gathered my thoughts as I entered the neighboring bedroom and flipped the light switch. The artificial illumination wasn’t necessary—the autumn sunshine through the corner windows filled the room. It was why she’d chosen this room.
Madison’s latest painting was still on the easel. Last night when I’d gone to bed, the work was incomplete. As I stared, I saw that she’d finished.
“It’s beautiful and sad.”
I turned, finding her standing in the doorway, a waif or maybe a ghost. It was what her presence had become. Only a few weeks pregnant, Madison’s first sign was nausea. It didn’t only hit in the morning. The sickness had taken its toll, lowering her weight, energy, and enthusiasm. Her cheekbones had become more prominent. Her watch hung from her thinning wrist. The walks she took around the property while I worked did little to bring color to her pale skin.
Madison was fading away.
It would happen whether I kept her here or if she left.
I felt that reality deep within me.
“They say she was paralyzed,” Madison said, looking at the painting. “A degenerative disease.”
I’d seen the artwork in one of the many books I’d brought to the house. It was entitledChristina’s World. Madison had even replicated the artist’s signature. The book was open and lying on the nearby table. Her dedication to detail was impressive. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe we were looking at the original work.