Cheryl Tardif - Children of the Fog

“He’ll be bringing home girlfriends soon enough,” the doctor had said with a chuckle.

Sadie had believed him.

The next page showed Sam on his chubby little knees, a line of drool hanging from his smiling, toothless mouth. He was crawling to Mommy. Another photo showed Philip sleeping with a colicky Sam next to him. None of them had slept much that night.

Sadie turned the page and giggled. She had taken the picture a few months before Sam had turned three. He was sitting on the bathroom floor, an open box of tampons scattered in front of him. By the time she had discovered him, he had devilishly unwrapped every tampon and was throwing them like darts at the door.

The next page held one of her favorite photos. They had taken Sam to Galaxyland Amusement Park at West Edmonton Mall. All three of them were happy in the photo, especially Philip who was grinning from ear-to-ear. He looked so relaxed and boyish as he stood on the carousel behind the black stallion that Sam rode. Sadie stood next to him, after asking a young girl to take their photo. It was a rare moment when they had been a real family.

Sam had brought them all together. Once upon a time.

She sighed. “What happened to us?”

The last page in the album held photos taken a few months ago. On Valentine’s Day, at the parade downtown. People were lined up on both sides of the street. Sam’s class had gone there on a field trip, and Sadie had volunteered to meet them there and help. The moment he had spotted her in the crowd, Sam had beamed a smile and blown her a kiss. That’s the second she snapped the picture.

Sadie blew a kiss back. “You’ll always be my Valentine, Sam.”

Her smile froze. She squinted at the photo. There was a man in the crowd. It would be difficult to miss him. He was dressed in a clown suit. He didn’t look exactly like Clancy, but there was something about him that set off alarms. Perhaps because while everyone was watching the parade, he seemed to be watching Sam.

Since the photo was too small to make out any details, she rushed to her laptop and opened up the file where she had saved all the family photographs. Chewing her bottom lip, she scrolled down until she found the one of Sam at the parade. She enlarged it until it filled the screen.

She let out a muffled gasp.

Although his face was half hidden by shadows, the man was definitely staring in Sam’s direction. Unsmiling. Intense. Familiar.

And holding six red balloons.

“Gotcha, you bastard .”

Seated at the kitchen table with an oil lamp and the fireplace for light, Sadie tried to eat her supper, but she barely tasted the chef salad she had made. She picked at it, unable to get The Fog out of her head. He’d been watching Sam for weeks, maybe months, plotting his abduction, and she hadn’t had a clue.

She had to get the photo to Jay, and there was only one way she could do that without having to drive all the way back to Edmonton.

Digging through her purse, she found Jay’s card. Under his office phone number was an email address.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured.

She glanced at the bin on the chair across from her. LaToya’s letter lay on top, mocking her. She reached for it, then hesitated, resisting the temptation to read it again.

Her purse rang.

Without thinking, she retrieved her cell phone and flipped it open. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay, Sadie?” Leah’s voice was tentative, distant.

“I’m fine.”

“I was… worried about you, my friend. You left so suddenly.”

Sadie didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t feel like explaining herself. Not even to Leah. Or anyone, for that matter.

“So…” Leah said. “How’s the book coming along?”

“I’m almost done. Maybe another week.”

“Want me to come keep you company, wherever you are?”

She was hinting, trying to get information from her, but the last thing Sadie wanted was company. She was already a bit pissed at herself for getting friendly with the locals. Irma, Ed, Martha… they were all nice people.

Too nice to be exposed to what I’m planning.

“Sadie?”

“I’m not ready for company. I have stuff to take care of.”

“Why are you pushing me away?” Leah’s voice trembled. “I’m your friend, or supposed to be. But ever since Sam—”

“Look, I can’t talk about this right now. I’m sorry that things are the way they are.” But they just are.

Leah tried again. “Friends are supposed to stick together in bad times. You know I’m here for you. Any time, day or night. If you need to talk, just call me.” Quiet desperation echoed in her voice.

“I have to go now, Leah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Sadie hung up and turned off her phone. To preserve the battery, she told herself. In actuality, she didn’t want any more interruptions.

Annoyed by Leah’s call, she washed the dishes and wiped down the counters. When she was done, she picked up the rum bottle, intending to mix a stiff drink. It held less than half an ounce.

“No point in wasting it.”

She drained the rum and wiped her mouth with the back of one hand. Then she tucked the empty bottle in the cupboard, out of sight.

Philip’s Cabernet teased her, calling out to her.

“No way. I’m saving you for last.”

Resolved to a night without the comfort of an alcohol-induced sleep, she slumped down on the sofa, stared into the fire and tried to look at the positive side.

“At least you won’t see ghost girls if you’re sober.”

An hour later, she was bored. With nothing better to do, she sat at the kitchen table and caved in to the seductive pull of LaToya’s letter. She read it again, wondering why it felt so wrong. Afterward, she sorted through the folders and placed them in neat piles, her gaze skimming over them. They were legal documents, nothing exciting.

Until she found a letter that Philip had written two years ago, but never mailed.

Dear L.,

I can’t stop thinking about you. I know you wanted it just as much as I did, so don’t bother threatening that you’ll tell Sadie. I’ll tell her you led me on, seduced me. After all, you kissed me first. Sadie will never look at you the same way again. Especially if I tell her about Sam. I’m looking forward to your next birthday party, and I’m sure I can arrange to drive you home again.

Philip.

Sadie reread the last line. “What the hell?”

The truth hit her, hard and fast.

She swept aside the piles of paper until she found the first letter, the one she’d thought LaToya had sent to Philip. Then she snatched up her purse, rooting around for a sympathy card she’d received at Sam’s funeral. She set the card and letter side-by-side, her eyes widening in horrified realization.

She let out a pained gasp. “What?”

There it was. All the proof she needed. Philip’s name, in capital letters. Exactly the same as the card. That’s what had teased at the corners of her mind, something subliminal daring her to recognize Leah’s writing.

A cry ripped from her throat. “No! Not them!”

Sordid thoughts raced through her mind, taunting her, each competing for her attention. Philip had driven Leah home and they had had sex. Her husband and her best friend. Betrayal cut her like a knife, resisting at first and then slicing clean through her heart.

Philip and Leah.

She bolted from the chair and paced the cabin. Clenching her hands, she pounded on the counter. “Damn you, Philip, you fucking asshole!” She gritted her teeth. “And damn you, Leah. You were supposed to be my best friend.”

Leaving the oil lamp burning on the table, she walked in a haze toward the bathroom. The bottle of sleeping pills waited on the counter. She shook two out and swallowed them dry. Then she made her way to the bedroom. In the dark, she climbed into bed and curled up into a ball.