Jaden Skye: Death by Honeymoon

Cindy’s heart dropped at the thought of Ann leaving. In the back of her mind she knew this would be coming. Ann couldn’t stay here forever. She’d been here way longer already than she should have. Tears filled Cindy’s eyes.

“I can’t go back and live with mother,” Cindy said, forlorn. “It wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t be comfortable and neither would I. She needs her space.”

“Well, you can get your own apartment near us. For a year or so anyway. It will help you get back to yourself again. Most of your friends are back home, too. You’ve only been East for a year and a half.”

“This is my home now. And Clint’s.”

“He’s not here anymore.”

“But we bought it together. We picked it out, moved in, put the pictures on the walls. We started to plant the garden together. Clint’s things are all over. How can I just leave everything behind?”

Ann took Cindy’s hands. “Cindy, sweetheart,” she said softly, “Clint’s things are here. But he is not.”

The words didn’t sink in. Cindy couldn’t grasp them. Looking around, she felt as though he were everywhere.

“You need to be close to people who love you, who will take care of you for awhile. You’ve been through a tremendous ordeal,” Ann said.

“I have some new friends here,” Cindy said. She thought of a few friends from work that she had lunched with, and others she’d met at the local book club. Her life here was beginning to grow roots. Most of the time, of course, Cindy had spent with Clint.

“I mean, you need to be near family,” Ann said.

Cindy sat down on the sofa. Ann was more than a sister to her—she was a best friend. She wanted to go back and be close to her, but she also knew she couldn’t. This was her home and she couldn’t run from it. There was too much unfinished business, too many strands to be unraveled. She had wedding gifts to unpack and return. Thank you cards to write, letters to be answered. She had all of Clint’s clothing and possessions to look after. And she had a job she loved as a research assistant at a top newspaper in the city. Cindy always loved to find little known facts, investigate details in a story. And her boss said she could take as much time as she needed; whenever she was ready, the job was waiting for her. Little by little, she’d get ready. She’d learn how to stand on her own two feet and make sense of all that had gone on.

“What about Clint’s family?” Ann continued. “They’re strange. They’re dangerous. And they only live a mile away. I’m nervous leaving you here so close by.”

“They don’t have the key to the house,” Cindy said swiftly, a wave of anger rising.

“This is my home, and Clint was my husband, whether they liked it or not. I’m sorry, Ann, really I am, but there’s no way I can leave my home with Clint behind.”

Cindy stormed away into her room and threw herself down on the bed. This can’t be happening , she said to herself, over and over. Then she closed her eyes and pictured Clint, as if to bring him back to her. She remembered the two of them together at the wedding, kissing, holding hands, how beautiful everything had been. That is, until it came time for the speeches.

When it was Clint’s mother’s turn to say a few words, she stood up and spoke about Clint as a little boy, how wonderful he’d been then, and that she had no idea what happened when he grew up. Everyone had laughed, except Cindy. His mother said a few more words about Clint, the ladies’ man, then fluffed her hair and sat down. She didn’t say a word about Cindy. When it was Marge’s turn, she went on and on about what a wonderful catch Clint was. Again not a word about Cindy, or welcoming her into the family. Cindy’d had a sinking feeling right then, but just let it drift away . She wasn’t going to let them ruin her wedding. Soon she and Clint would be away from them all, the two of them alone together, on their honeymoon . He was hers now, and the family could never take him away. Or so she imagined.

Cindy’s mind drifted back again to the honeymoon. They’d both been so thrilled to be in Barbados, it seemed that everything there was welcoming them, the sky, sand, rolling waves . They’d laughed and joked about everything, explored all kinds of nooks and crannies, saw the flying fish, whistling turtles, coral reefs, chatted with locals and guests at the hotel. It was as if they were exactly where they belonged and nothing bad could ever happen to them. She remembered snorkeling with Clint in the warm, turquoise water, swimming among gorgeous, slippery, red, green and yellow fish. As they swam, their legs intertwined, it seemed as if they would never be apart.

“We were put on this earth just for each other,” Clint had whispered to her late one night as they danced at the hotel.

Cindy felt that way, too. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve this kind of happiness.

Now she began to go over and over each moment, looking for the reason why everything had gone so wrong. She felt helpless not knowing, as if she were just letting the ocean sweep Clint away. How could it? He was such a good person, had always reached out to help everybody. Why would this terrible thing happen to him? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be an explanation. Maybe someone wanted to murder him . She had to find out who.

She went over each day before the wedding carefully, again and again. Clint had been more stressed than usual the last few weeks leading up to the marriage. She hadn’t thought much of it then, knew it was normal for tensions to build before the big day. His family only added to the tension, had something to complain about every day. They were upset with everything about the wedding—the seating, the flowers, the band. There was nothing that felt right to them. And they blamed Cindy for all of it. Clint’s mother even had Ralph call and ask Clint if he really knew the woman he was marrying. After all, they’d only been together for a year.

“Why do they hate me so much?” Cindy’d asked frequently.

Clint refused to consider that question.

“My parents don’t hate anyone. They love you like I do. They’re just nervous about me.”

Cindy didn’t get it. She wondered more deeply now about the extent of their hatred. What kind of action might it have led them to take? Were there secrets she had no idea about? Had he been holding something back from her? And, now that he was gone, would she ever know?

She broke down sobbing. It’s not fair, it’s not fair , she murmured, he didn’t deserve it . Not Clint. And, with tears uncontrollably pouring down her face, she fell into a torn, fitful sleep. In which followed, day after day, night after night, a parade of restless nightmares.

3 weeks later

Even though it was half past ten o’clock in the morning, Cindy was still sleeping . Oblivious to the world around her, she dreamt that it was early winter, the first snow falling, and that Clint was back. They were together, shoveling, making a path up to their home. They had on big fur hats and puffy gloves. Clint’s face was red, brushed by the cold wind. He said that after they finished shoveling, they could build a snowman in front of the house. Cindy was excited. She hadn’t built a snowman for years, and she’d find a funny hat to put on him, like the one Clint wore.

Laughing, they built a huge, fat snowman, with red buttons in his eyes.

But as soon as Cindy put its hat on, the snowman began to melt.

“It’s melting,” she yelled to Clint, who suddenly couldn’t hear her.

Desperate, she started to scoop up the melting snow, but then awoke abruptly .

Ann was in her bedroom, pulling open the curtains, letting in the light of day .